#okay so i lied i have a ROUGH order in mind

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you waking up in jack’s arms makes him realize he needs to do something soon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a lil kiss 💋, just fluff mainly

𝐚/𝐧: was half asleep while writing this so it might be rough

jack had his hands draped around waist, while you were laying on his chest. your head was snuggled in the crook of his neck, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine.

you were fast asleep, however he was definitely not. he was supposed to napping with you in his trailer, but he couldn’t sleep. he has something, or someone, on his mind. 

you and jack were filming Scream VI together and played love interests. it was fine at first, but as filming progressed, jacks feeling for you only grew. there was only one problem. you and jack were friends.

well, sorta. 

you did everything a normal couple would do, but just as buddies. hence why you were cuddled up together on the couch in his trailer. no one really knew why you weren’t officially together, for you would make such a good couple.

he wanted to call you his. it was silly, the only thing keeping you from formally dating was a label, and yet he craved it, more than anything.

he looked down at you, your glowed from the sunlight peeking through the windows. you looked angelic, and he wondered how a person could be this pretty. god, he hated himself for being so fearful of rejection. 

unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way. you wished you weren’t such a chicken, and could grow a pair and ask him out. how was it possible to want a person this bad?

you were a match made in heaven, as jenna liked to say. she was your costar, and your best friend. you told her all about your interactions with jack, the both of you giggling like little schoolgirls. you had given him the codename “strawberry,” so you could talk about him without others knowing his identity. 

jenna saw the spark in your eyes when you talked to him, and your pupils dilated in size every time you were around him. you were in love with a man you weren’t even dating. 

your body twisted and turned as you slowly woke up. you blink away the sleepiness and cautiously looked up at jack to see if he had waken up yet.  

“good morning, sleepyhead.” jack says. you smile at eachother, and you sat up, the shared blanket slipping off of your silky skin.

“how long have you been awake?” you asked, hoping you didn’t keep him glued in place while you were fast asleep. your sleepy voice made jack swoon, and he held back from doing anything he would later regret. 

“not long, i just woke up.” he lies straight through his teeth in order to make you feel okay. you just nod and pat around the cushions, searching for your phone. you find it smooshed in between two pillows, and you check the clock. it was two twenty three.

“what time do we need to be back on set by?” you curiously ask him.

“three pm, i think. but we need to go to hair and makeup at two thirty.”

you flash him the time, and hop out of bed. you and him take short walk to the costume department. there was two separate trailers, and all of the actors randomly assigned to one at the beginning of filming. you and jack got split up, which sucked, but the system was supposed to help with efficiency and speed. 

you part ways, and both get into full costume. your makeup artist was around your age, so you enjoyed chatting with her. after getting ready, you both meet up on set.

you and him weren’t in a lot of scenes today, so you mainly just played game pigeon together. the day was spent competing and laughing together, and you wouldn’t have changed anything.

however, the whole day jack had plastered on a fake smile. in reality, he was stressed to beyond compare. he was going to ask you out by the end of the day. 

seeing you all wrapped up in his arms this afternoon made him realize that he wants to start a future with you. so while his was alone, he called his buddy, romeo, and sent him to the store to get flowers. he made romeo send photos of every bouquet in the shop, so jack could pick out the perfect bundle for you. 

it was now dark out, and filming for today was over. you and him already had changed back into your normal clothes, and you both went back to your personal trailers to grab your keys. you separated and agreed to meet back up in the, now empty, parking lot. 

what you didn’t know was that romeo was waiting in jacks trailer, with the flowers that jack would use to ask you out. jacks heart raced as he rushed to the parking lot. he wanted to be there first, just to see your reaction when you saw him standing with a colorful section of gorgeous flowers in his hands.

he anxiously waited for you, nervously popping his fingers. he then saw you walking up to him, the moonlight illuminating your features. you approached him, getting closer and closer.

he handed you the flowers, and you smiled brighter than ever, wondering what they were for.

“y/n, i’ve loved spending countless hours with you over the past few months, and there is nothing i want more in this world than to be your boyfriend. will you please go out with me?” he lovingly asked.

you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his hand with your cheek, before connecting your lips together. you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him, and it definitely lived up to its potential. he kissed you back, passion filling your bodies. 

you pulled apart, and looked at him with a huge grin. jack opened his mouth to ask a sarcastic question.

“so was that a yes?”

taglist: @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @hillesem, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

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#ethan landry #jack champion #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x actress! reader #fanfic #masterlist #liv’s writing !

[heartsforsserafim]

First of all, your blog is amazing.

Second can I request a GP Siyeon X GP Minji X pillow Princess reader.

Subby reader wanting them to take care of her neediness.

Reader is also shy to ask for what she wants especially when she wants them to go faster. So Minji and Siyeon have ask them?

Nectar

pairing ; siyeon x minji x fem!reader

genre ; smut/fluff

tw ; gp!siyeon, gp!minji, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!siyeon, dom!minji, pillow princess!reader, somewhat shy/subby reader, oral (r receiving), threesome (kind of?), soft sex/rough sex

You always loved being in a relationship where both of your partners are dominant. Siyeon was way more than minji was but it of course worked out for you, they were definitely caring.

They knew when it was an even day, or which days worked best within their schedules. Today was an even day but they both were at work, and there was nothing to help you do with the heat between your legs.

Minji decided to text you since she knew today was the day, just checking in. You lied and said you were fine but in reality all you could think about is the girls fucking you dumb.

Minji ended the conversation with i love you, and you did as well. Siyeon texted you as well, checking in. The same process as minji's, god just texting them made you so wet.

You knew it'd be a long day before they're home, so you tried to distract yourself from it. Playing games, to watching tv, doing the laundry, changing all the bed sheet sets. Just everything that came to mind, you even started looking for a new aesthetic of clothing. Nothing worked all you could think of is your two girlfriends dicking you down and god did you just want that.

(...)

The two girls arrived home, around the same time. You were watching tv, not really paying attention since your brain wouldn't even let you think.

"Hey baby" minji said and kissed your forehead before walking down the hallway, to the bathroom you supposed. "Hi honey" siyeon said as well, kissing your cheek before going to the bedroom you guessed. Once again you sat here, needy too scared to voice any of your wants or needs.

Since the girls KNEW it was an even day, they wanted to go by whatever you asked for and well since you never asked for the sex they just assumed that you didn't want to do it anymore.

Therefore it was fine, after minji showered she ordered take out, and walked out of the bathroom in just her boxer shorts. Walking into the living room to ask you something, she saw you were decently dazed out.

"Hey babe?" minji walked closer to you, her eyes were filled with worry. "Are you okay?" she shook you a bit. "O-oh yeah i'm fine" you say, she looks at you. Direct eye contact, "I know what today is and are you sure you don't want to?"

You knew she'd ask all night since even days you'd never miss a beat about mentioning it to them. Sitting there in silence, before officially saying "I uh.. i-" you tried to speak but you couldn't say it. Your head fell down and your face was red.

Minji knew what you wanted but she wanted you to say it, siyeon soon walked into the living room dressed in grey sweats and a white tshirt. God did she look so attractive, the way her bulge rested in the pants too. God did you want them to ruin you, but you just couldn't say it.

(...)

Time passed and the girls were now sitting on the floor while you sat on the couch, minji had a thought and decided to tell siyeon. She agreed to it and began removing her clothes, only leaving herself in her boxers just like minji was. "U-uhm what are you two doing?" you asked, taking your attention away from the movie. "Nothing, don't worry my love" siyeon said, standing up and sitting next to you.

Minji followed the older girl, sitting on the other side of you. Siyeon whispered into your ear, "You know, me and minji would love some dessert" your face went red, knowing what she was referring to. "We would love to lick it all up my love" minji said in your other ear.

By this point you really had no more self respect, you sat back and told the girls you wanted it. They wasted no time in removing your pants and panties. Seeing how soaked you were made their cocks throb. Minji placed one digit onto your clit, and rubbed slow circles. Watching as your body responds to her movements.

Siyeon watched the girl while she removed her boxers, her cock standing tall along her abdomen. You were whimpering minji's name and god did those two love hearing it. Siyeon walked over and leaned down, marking your chest with her hickeys and love bites. Minji sped up a bit, you began moaning louder.

Those two were in complete ecstasy, switching positions. Minji was marking you up, while siyeon began lining herself up with your entrance. She slowly entered, "A-ah~ M-mmph~" you moaned. Minji found your sweet spot and you swore you could've came right there. Siyeon began pumping slowly, her thrusts deep and shallow.

Minji stopped kissing you for a bit, and played with your breast, her other hand going into her boxers to pump her long veiny cock. Seeing you and siyeon fuck was enough to make the girl cum so early, she had barely touched herself. Siyeon was going too slow for your liking and seeing minji cum made you so much more needy.

"F-faster.." you whispered, only minji heard you. Siyeon stopped her movements, wondered if you said the safe word or if you asked for more. Awaiting your reply, she stayed inside of you, not moving. You moved your hips a bit, moaning at the feeling. Then siyeon knew what you wanted. She grabbed your hips, and began fucking you faster.

You were a complete mess under her, the way her cock touched every single part of your cunt made you go crazy. Minji was still marking you, and soon began to give attention to your breasts. Cupping them and massaging them, occasionally licking them a bit. The two girls giving you this much pleasure, you felt so close to your orgasm.

You got louder and that's how they knew, you felt your high so close and then, siyeon pulled out. You whined due to the emptiness and how they were edging you, but minji filled you up so fast and began thrusting. She normally would've let you adjust but tonight they want you to get what you were asking for.

Minji grabbed your waist, holding it for dear life as she destroyed your cunt. Your orgasm was building up again, your walls tightening around her so well, she slid in and out faster and faster. Soon you came, and she came as well. Filling you up into your womb, she stayed inside for a bit before pulling out. Her load leaking out from your cunt, that scene drove siyeon over the edge she came onto your stomach.

(...)

Panting minji laid on the floor, her cock softening. She looked over to you and siyeon and chuckled a bit. "Guess we still ended an even day well" you two laughed along with her

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #newjeans #newjeans smut #lee siyeon #siyeon #kim minji #minji

[7ndipity]

Taking care of you

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook taking care of his s/o after a rough day

Warnings: a lil bit of crying, but it's mostly just comfort & fluff

A/N: first off, we just 300 followers?! Thank you all so much! This was another lovely request from @tpiliper, I hope y'all like it! I'll also be trying to post several other requests this weekend.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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You dragged yourself through the door of your apartment, movements slow and brain hazy from another exhausting day. The only coherent thought in your mind being the desire to crawl into bed and forget about everything for a few hours.

You'd barely kicked your shoes off before you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist.

"Hi." Jungkook mumbled, planting a small kiss against you neck. When you only hummed in response, he pulled back to look at you properly.

"Long day?" He asked, taking note of your tired eyes, to which you only nodded, too fatigued to elaborate at the moment.

"My poor baby." He cooed, taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling you into a tight hug. Jungkook gave the best hugs; if it were up to you, you would never never leave his arms, forever wrapped in the sense of warmth and safety that only he could convey.

"How about you go grab a shower and I'll order us some food, okay?" He suggested.

"I'm too tired to wash up." You groaned against his shoulder.

"You'll only feel worse if you don't." He said pulling back and taking your hand, tugging you towards the bathroom. "C'mon."

He sat you down on the edge of the tub and carefully removed your makeup for you before gently helping you into the shower.

You don't know how long you stood under the warm stream from the shower, but by the time you finally emerged, now in pajamas, he already had food set up and waiting in the living room. He was quick to pull you to the couch, giving your hand a little squeeze before moving to sit on the floor in front of you.

"What are you doing? There's plenty of room up here." You said.

"I like sitting here." He defended.

"You like it because I play with your hair." You teased.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied, flopping his head back as he spoke, so his hair brushed against you.

You weren't too far off with your comment, he did love it when you played with his hair, but also knew you loved it even more, having said before that you found it soothing to just sit and run your fingers through it, something he thought you might need at the moment.

The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence as you watched TV, with him coaxing you to eat a few bites of food here and there, when you began to feel all the emotions of the day that you'd been trying to push down starting to catch up to you.

At the sound of the first sniffle from you, Jungkook immediately whipped around.

"Baby? No no no, why are you crying?" He quickly moved to hold you as you cried. "It's okay, I've got you."

After a couple minutes, you calmed down. "I'm sorry." You said quietly.

"Don't apologize, everyone need to let it out sometimes." He said gently, wiping under your eyes. "You feel better?"

You nodded. "Thank you, for always taking care of me."

"Of course." He pressed another kiss to your temple. "Anytime."

You suddenly let out a yawn, making him chuckle.

"You wanna go to bed now?" He asked with a smile.

"Yes, please."

#jungkook fluff #jungkook reaction #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook comfort #jungkook imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts x y/n #bts x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts requests #7ndipity

[merakiui]

I love your apocalypse au so much omg. Especially with Riddle like MMMMMM

How would the rest of the compound leaders treat their brides? (Including RSA and Rollo if that’s okay)

:D thank you for enjoying it!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, misogyny, apocalypse logic, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, obsession)

Riddle is controlling. He has built up a system with rules and it must not be broken. Naturally, these rules extend to you and he expects you to follow them. He may seem cold and mean and immensely difficult to get through to, especially when he has such a short temper, but if it weren't for Trey's placating words and actions you probably would have found yourself cast out long ago. Riddle has to learn to live with you, much like how you have to learn to live with Riddle. He only took you as a bride because it's part of the rules, so for a while he views you as more of an obligation rather than someone he might want to spend a life with. It takes time, but Riddle will warm up to you and, hopefully, soften enough to be lenient when it comes to the rules. Always so efficient, he has a schedule listing all of the days in which he hopes to try for a child with you, and leading up to those times he'll be sure to prepare you well in advance. If you can smooth his rough edges, you'll find he can be a pleasant, caring husband. And perhaps a child is what he needs to learn patience in order to keep his anger in check!

Leona is respectful with you. He makes sure you're given proper treatment by those around you, and if anyone has a problem with you they have to take it up with the leader first. Though he can be lazy and oftentimes most of his work falls to Ruggie to complete, he is honest about what he wants. He has no need for mind games or intricate webs of lies. Leona is fairly blunt about it: he picked you because a leader needs a bride and you're supposed to give him children, but if you're against it he's fine with it. It's not like he's desperate to have children any time soon, and you're an interesting herbivore. If anything, he keeps you around because you're amusing and he likes using you for sex. If you know how to take advantage of good things, your relationship with Leona will become very give and take. It's important to note that, though you may annoy him at times, he never raises a hand to you or snaps at you or treats you cruelly. Leona respects you a lot, even if he never admits it outright, and he knows just how admirable it is for you to be able to take on the roles expected of a bride. He supposes that, after spending so much time with you, he's come to tolerate you. (In Leona language, that means he likes you. <3)

Azul is all business, so he views your relationship with him as a mutually beneficial transaction (i.e. he's rather distant with you and only does what's expected in a bride-husband relationship: the bare minimum). To be crudely blunt, he knocks you up and provides you with a comfortable environment and everything else a pregnant bride would need and in return you give him children, company, a reason to boast to other compounds about his sweet, healthy, always-pregnant bride. It's a lovely deal made even better when you take into account how truly lonely he really is. Azul's married to his work, so he never has time for relationships outside of compound leader duties. But his connection with you forces him to make a conscious effort to build something wonderful and everlasting, and he's always been a secret romantic at heart. It's no surprise when he finds himself considering you from new angles, no longer viewing you as a contractual obligation but rather as his bride to love forever and always. You may hate him; you may love him, or you might be indifferent on the matter. But one thing is very clear: Azul won't let anyone else have you.

Kalim treats you like you are the sun, the moon, and the entire universe all wrapped into a single person. He simply adores you, and he'll spoil you rotten even if he hardly knows you. Living as Kalim's bride is arguably the easiest and most comfortable compared to the other compounds. Kalim ensures you're fed the most delicious meals and snacks, you're given the warmest, nicest-smelling baths, and that your clothes are always tailored to fit you wonderfully (including the maternity wear that you'll eventually fill into). It can be overwhelming to receive such genuine care and respect from him when times are so uncertain and the world beyond the compound is dangerous. You suspect there's more going on behind the scenes, but why should you bother worrying when Kalim is always taking such good care of you? It's a normal relationship for the most part. You just can't leave, you're bound to Kalim forever now, and you're expected to have lots of children. But then that's the new normal of the world. Nothing can be done to change that, right? :)

Vil is critical of you. He always is with everything in his life. After all, even in an apocalypse, he will look and act his best and most beautiful! So it's natural he would want you to reflect your own natural beauty. Though that may seem like he's overly scrutinizing or even strict when it comes to your diet and what you do in your free time... Truthfully, Vil just wants you to lead a happy, healthy life, and since you're his bride he wants you to be able to revel in the wondrous glow pregnancy will bestow upon you. Vil also has schedules he sticks to. He expects you to follow the one he prepares specifically for you, which means you're expected to eat healthy foods and snacks, exercise alongside him, allow him to prepare you for pregnancy, and so on. Even though it's overwhelming and tiring, Vil does care for you quite a bit. It may be hard to see when he's scolding you for sneaking unhealthy snacks or trying to sleep in when you're meant to join him on a morning jog, but he just wants you to be at your best!

Idia neglects you. A lot. He only agreed to take a bride because it's what's expected and his parents wouldn't stop not-so-subtly bringing it up when he'd check in with them on occasion. It didn't help that Ortho was in his ear talking so excitedly about how he can't wait for his brother to find a special someone who he can settle down with! Idia has no interest in you, preferring to spend his days playing games or working on side projects. He lets you do your own thing so long as it doesn't cause any troubles for the compound, and if anyone hounds him about how he ought to start sleeping with you Idia complains and complains. He's not interested in 3D. It would be so much better to just fuck an anime girl in VR...or something. If you're really so desperate to be filled, the doctors can just inseminate you and he'll never have to come within touching distance. But of course his opinion will change when he finally looks at you rather than through you and begins to truly consider a real relationship with you. And since you're all his, you'll have no choice but to accept him whether you want him or not. It's really such a good cheat code!

Malleus is new to this sort of relationship. He was most likely your friend before your husband, as he values the sentimental nature of relationships forged over time. He wouldn't choose just anyone, and he feels drawn to you the most so of course it's no surprise when he takes you as his bride. Malleus is suffocating, always hovering you (even more so when you're carrying his clutch), but he just can't help it. He loves to be around you, to feel your presence, to be wrapped up in your warmth. He is so infatuated with you and everything that you are, and he doesn't spare you of the compliments, showering you with them in the quiet private of his bed chambers, whispering them into your skin like prayer. Malleus is sweet and gentle with you, and he's very protective of you. If he can't accompany you, then you'll find yourself in Silver or Sebek's care. Like Kalim, having Malleus as a husband isn't terrible. He wants you to like him for him, and he wants you to be comfortable. But since you were friends (and still are) before becoming husband and wife, he's much more familiar to you and that helps in fostering a stronger bond.

Neige loves, loves, loves you!!! He's so head over heels. The two of you probably met by pure chance. Maybe you delivered his laundry to him or you served him a meal once, but in Neige's eyes that was when your fairytale began. It was a chore to track you down, but once Neige finds you he's quick to make you his bride. He's so blinded by love and willing to do anything and everything for you that it can often feel so stifling. He never gets angry with you, and he's so patient. Even if you might fight him, he remains devoted, hopeful that one day you'll be able to see his perspective. He wants to build such a nice family with you so that this fairytale can have its happily ever after. Even if getting there means he has to be a little nasty and deceitful, he'll do whatever it takes. After all, love is always stronger than hate! You might not like him now, but soon you will. All it takes is time.

Che'nya thinks you're so fun to play with. He's always been mischievous, so it's highly likely he was visiting you during your shifts in the compound. Sometimes it was to bother you by swiping laundry you were folding and dancing around the room while invisible, chuckling at your attempts to snatch it back. Other times it was to simply watch you in secret, noting how you interact with other brides, how you look after the children, how you spend extra time in the kitchens trying to teach yourself new recipes. Che'nya is rather impulsive in his decision to take you as his bride, but he doesn't regret it! The way he treats you doesn't change one bit. If anything, he's even more attached to you than he was before, and since you're all his now he gets to have so much fun filling you up every single night.

Rollo has views that are very...dated. You're not sure if he even likes you; he's always frowning and scowling, and he never smiles genuinely at you (or at anything or anyone unless it's to put on an act). He needs you as much as you need him (if it's for the sake of breeding for repopulation, that is). He's not as strict as Riddle, though. So long as there is order and you're obedient in following traditions, he's fairly tame in your relationship. Like Riddle, you also have to warm up to Rollo and he has to warm up to you. But perhaps he's long since warmed up to you and you have no idea. He's considerably sweeter in private, and if you're on good terms with him (i.e. you haven't given him any reasons to severely dislike you), he treats you well. Of course this kind treatment is as much of a blessing as it is a shackle. You're still expected to follow the traditions of the compound, and it's non-negotiable that you'll bear his children.

#twisted chit chat #twst apocalypse au #yandere twst

[joonsytip]

Lean On || Lee Seokmin

Pairings: Seokmin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Established Relationship au

Synopsis: On rough days when you have nothing but tears to offer, Seokmin always provides his shoulders to lean on and it reminds you of everything his love language entails of.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nothing heavy, toxic workplace, reader is sad, mentions of migraine, THE ENDING IS CRACK.

This is an impromptu post because this 4 month old blog has hit 500+ followers. Thanks to all whom have showed loved, interacted, have been silently supporting me, I love y'all.

Thanks to @hoeforhao for planting this idea in my brain and also for this beautiful banner (i look at it and feel better instantly) <3

Permanent taglist: @kimmych @imsjane @novalpha @hiimhappysblog @fiantomartell (sorry if I missed anyone, please lmk)

Please send an ask to get added to my permanent taglist.

Please heart, comment and reblog, it would really help to keep me going <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

The raindrops splatter against the window panes and Seokmin drawls out a restrained breath when his slumber stirs. He checks the time with teary eyes as his head still throbs, cursing himself out for not being able to pick you from work because of the killer headache which forced him to take early leave from office and return home.

He hears the doorknob making a sound and perks up in relief just because he'd be finally able to see you, feel your touch after spending hours apart because of work.

When you take slight longer than usual to cross the hallway and reach the couch where he's seated, Seokmin thinks he can't bear another moment of not seeing you. He rushes to the hallway and is about to call out your name but stills.

Your mind is anywhere and everywhere but to notice your boyfriend's presence. You know how easily he gets worried, so you take deep breaths in hopes that those tears would stop falling, hands frantically rubbing over eyes and cheeks to wipe off any hints of them. While your back still faced him, Seokmin knows you too well to catch onto your actions and even though his heart breaks he quietly goes back to take his previous position on the couch.

"Hey baby, did your headache...", it's happening again. Whenever you're upset your brain decides to stop giving out the words and you're always failing to complete the sentences or make any sense out of it for anyone. You pray that Seokmin doesn't notice, albeit of him being aware of this habit of yours.

"It's better.", Seokmin lies inspite of the way there's a rapid pounding in his head. He pats the space beside him and you're occupy it with hesitancy.

"I tried to...", you regret two things. One, meeting his gaze because your eyes are bloodshot and two, opening your mouth because the words won't come out, "I tried to..", your hands gesture inwards and Seokmin smiles.

"Work is busy, I know baby, it's not easy to leave at your will.", He responds as if he's cutting you off and pats on your head gently, "Go get changed, I'll make us something."

"No, I'm not letting you.", you protest sternly, "You're having headaches from....", you fist your hands determined to get out the word this time, "from... m-migraine", you sigh in relief and look around, "and by the way the only the dim lights are on, I can sense the intensity already. We're ordering take out."

The idea doesn't settle well with Seokmin, "Baby, it's raining outside. It's gonna be a bother to the delivery persons", his eyes go round in concern, "what if the delivery person gets into an accident just because they want to deliver in time, you know how bad the roads will be."

A smile grows on your lips, "Lee Seokmin, you got to worry about the whole world, don't you? And surely we won't be the only one ordering, there are lots of people who are, will gonna do that. But since you don't want to, let me freshen up and I'll make your favourite chicken soup."

"Okay, then I'll make your favourite mashed potato puffs.", he says and ceases every chance of protest from you by sending you into your shared bedroom.

Once you're into the bathroom, you ponder how Seokmin could make you forget about the world instantly when you're with him. But now that you're alone again, your mood sours. The hollowness returns as you shred your clothes and let the warm water wash you thorough.

Seokmin feels he could faint any moment because of the constant throbbing. It's one of those days where medicines does nothing to dull the pain. But he coaxes himself to get through because today you need him. He'd do anything to be your support, to be your anchor, to never let you go to bed upset.

He thanks heaven as he almost finishes making the puffs while waiting for you to join him. He counts sheeps, hums his favourite melodies, tries to think about something funny but nothing diverts him from the splitting headache which he feels keeps on increasing as moments pass by.

He prays he doesn't faint, he doesn't want you to worry more.

"Are you already done?", the smell floods your senses making you hungry instantly as soon as you step into the kitchen.

"Almost.", Seokmin tries to get up but tumbles on his steps and you run to hold him.

You eye him in concern as he seats on the chair. You hand him a glass of water asking, "How bad is it?"

You're met by silence and that's what you needed from him, an honest answer. Next you're running into your room to grab your scarf and purse.

"We're going to the hospital now.", you tell him, looking around for the car keys.

What Seokmin dreaded the most is happening, "Baby, it's not that bad. Plus it's raining outside, I won't let you drive, it's dangerous. I'll be okay in sometime."

You scoff as your angry gaze directs at him, "Your eyes are red, Min. You couldn't even stand properly."

Seokmin tries to open his mouth but you're cutting him off, "No more excuses. We're going to the hospital."

The temperature treatment and medicines did work some sort of magic because Seokmin feels a lot better and by the time you both are out of the hospital, the rain has also stopped.

Seokmin wants to drive, wants to tell you to take rest but with his current plight he wouldn't take the risk of doing so.

"Baby, could you please drive us to the riverside.", he asks and though you eye him questioningly, you don't say a word.

Throughout the ride his hand rests on your thigh, giving gentle caresses. It's oddly comforting you think. He hums soft melodies, adjusts the window glasses rolling them all up when he feels you shiver, rolling them down when it feels stuffy.

When you reach the riverside, Seokmin gets out urging you to stop the car at a spot and you decide to follow him after parking the car.

There's a designated bench for you two, it's your regular spot. You couldn't pinpoint why but that particular area beside the riverside had always enchanted you, during daytime it's filled with people and glee, at nighttime it's dimly lit. But today it's mostly dark maybe because of rain. That's the exact place where you met him for the first time, the memory is silly, it's beautiful and everything you'd be grateful for. Taking seat, while you wait for Seokmin your mind squares back to the incidents in the office and once again the tears start to pool in the corner of your eyes.

Those tears are now streaming down your face as you sob loudly. You don't care to hide it from your boyfriend because you know he already knows that something's off and it's a matter of time he asks you about it.

"Oh baby", you hear your boyfriend's voice and next you're being embraced by him while he sits beside you. You fist your hands on his jacket and some moments later he's loosening your grip on him just to make you look at him.

He wipes your tears and pecks on your forehead, "Wanna let it out?"

You nod like an eager child as if you were waiting for him to ask.

"I had told you about the...", It comes again, with waves of sadness, your brain not giving oult the words, "about the...", you whimper in frustration.

Seokmin knows it's something related to work so he turns the gear in his head and ask, "Project?"

You shake head.

"New team member?"

Again a no.

"Deadline?"

Still no.

He feels like ripping his hair apart and suddenly everything clicks, he thinks he knows what must have happened. With hesitancy he asks, "Promotion?"

You nod, your eyes becoming teary just at the mention, "I've been eyeing that position for a long time. My performance rating has been the best among the peer group so I was sure that I was gonna get promoted. But it was given to Jooseok, we all know he's a...", you look at him expectantly when you get stuck again.

Seokmin knowing in and outs about your workplace quickly adds, "He's a distant relative of the senior project manager."

You nod and continue, "And when I tried to talk to my manager he totally shut me out saying I shouldn't be petty about something I don't deserve in first place."

Seokmin feels unfair because he knows how diligent you are, he has seen how dedicated you are to your work. He remembers how your eyes glinted every time the topic of promotion was brought upon.

"Am I really being petty, Min?"

Vigorously shaking his head Seokmin answers, "Baby, I need you to know that you deserved it more than anyone else. I have known how many all nighters you've pulled to fill in for your incompetent teammates, to help new team members. You're so sincere and reliable, the type project leads would always want to have in their team."

Relief washes over you and you pour out more, "It's not even about the promotion, it's okay, opportunities would come more but what hurts the most is I never get credited for all the work I've put through. They always disregard everything and they're rude.", a pout settles on your lips.

"They need to be taught a lesson.", Seokmin quips because he already has ideas in his head, "Weren't you saying you had a meeting with the clients this week? When is that scheduled?"

"This Thursday.", you say unsuspectingly.

Seokmin grins big when he says, "When you go home you're gonna apply emergency leave for the remaining week. Let's see how things roll without you."

Your eyes go wide in shock, "I can't do that! Plus my manager won't approve it."

"They're called emergency leaves for a reason. And what's your manager gonna do about it? The most he can do is run his filthy mouth.", Seokmin reasons and you're laughing at how he's making questionable faces whenever your manager comes up in the conversation.

"Next you're gonna start applying for new jobs. Your workplace is toxic and sorry if I sound rude or demanding or controlling but I won't let you work somewhere where it costs you your mental health. You deserve to be appreciated for the efforts you're putting through, you deserve a better working environment."

You know what your boyfriend's suggesting is actually a real deal, not that you haven't pondered over this before. Having endured the dirty politics of the office for long actually fuels up in making up your mind.

"I think I'm gonna start applying for jobs.", you acknowledge and Seokmin hugs you in delight. When he does so you wonder where you'd belong if it's not to him.

"You don't even have to work through the notice period, you know I can provide for both of us unless you get another job.", he says and pinches the bridge of your nose, "But I also know your conscience won't allow you to do so, you won't leave that abruptly."

"Thanks Min. What would I do without you?",you whisper giving him a knowing smile. He pecks your lips before asking to wait as he runs off to somewhere.

Some moments later the area suddenly lights dimly in various colours making your eyes wonder in search of not anything in particular. Then falls a spotlight on the empty space to your front. You watch as your boyfriend walks in taking place into the circle of the light holding a what you assume to be a water bottle along with that a gas balloon, the thread tied on his wrist.

He looks at you, when your gazes meet his smiles ear to ear which turns out to be contagious because you're smiling wide too.

The characteristic goofy smile that he gives you tugs on your heart and when he's holding the bottle as a makeshift mic you're already laughing out loud.

"Silly", you call him out.

He points at you before he starts to sing.

And when he starts to sing, your eyes almost fall off the sockets because he's singing what you had never anticipated.

"Dogs goes woof, Cat goes meow...", he starts to sing so soulfully that if you didn't know the lyrics and the song you'd mistake it for some melody, "Bird goes tweet and mouse goes squeek…"

He's jumping around, hoping from one place to another, hitting notes effortlessly with such parodical expressions that you're sliding down the bench, holding your cheeks that are aching from all the laughing.

And when he goes quiet all of sudden, you squint eyes at him. He closes up to you and sings again, "But there's one sound, that no one knows......."

He hold the bottle to your mouth, urging you to continue and you're choking and bubbling out giggles when you manage to say, "What does the fox say?"

You are wrong to think this couldn't get funnier, your boyfriend couldn't get funnier. Because he's know holding the balloon and untying the thread. Next he's inhaling the gas which you're sure now that it's helium.

And that's it, that's what made you goner.

With his husky voice turning shrillest he winks at you and aggressively does the did, sings the catch part of the song.

"Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!"

You're rolling on the ground, kicking legs in the air, clutching your stomach in case it bursts open from excessive laughing.

"M-Min, please stop or I'll really combust.", your strained voice is pleading, "This is ridiculous, what are you?"

Seokmin gets the scare of his life as he takes the literal meaning of your words and stops instantly. And you regret taking a look at his expression because it's so funny that you're laying down again just to laugh.

"Are you done?", Seokmin tugs on your sleeves, "This wasn't supposed to be that funny. Why are still laughing? Do I look funny?"

You know he's sulking and teasing simultaneously so you're grabbing his face and pulling him down so that you could kiss him and gleefully he obliges.

"Idiot", you mumble against his lips once they part, "You're inhaling Helium and doing all sorts of hyping with this massive headache. It's gonna be worse."

"Anything to make you feel better.", he pecks your lips once again and says, "I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Never doubt your worth. I love you."

"And you're the best thing that happened to me. You should also be knowing how your presence itself can heal anyone around you. Love you too baby, thanks for being mine, for being with me.", You confess, honestly, feeling his face, asserting assurance.

He gets up and helps you to do so, "We'll pick up dinner from that takeaway truck on our way home."

"Fine, since it's late. I'll make you chicken soup tomorrow.", You say, "Let's go, I need to apply for leave and prepare the seperation papers as well."

"Sounds like a plan, but first let's return the bottle to aunt, her stall is still open. She must be waiting for us and also, gotta tell her to switch off the lights."

Aunt has been integral part of your journey with Seokmin. She runs a stall by the riverside and you had met her through Seokmin, the old woman is quirky, funny and an absolute lovebug. She loves you both as her own and you both reciprocate the same.

As Seokmin skips all the way ahead of you, calling your name to show random things he sees on the ground, your heart swells in your chest. You thank heavens for letting you have Seokmin to lean on.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

#seokmin #lee seokmin #dokyeom #lee dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom x you #dokyeom x y/n #seokmin x reader #seokmin x y/n #seokmin x you #svt seokmin #svt dk x reader #svt dk #seventeen seokmin #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt x y/n #svt fic #svt x you #seventeen x reader #svt au #svt fluff #svt imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen angst #svt angst #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello, can I have some headcanons of LJ, Toby and EJ with a y/n who acts like Ai Hoshino?

Various creepypastas w/ an hishino-type!reader!

OKAY SO I LITERALLY just watched the first episode/prologue thingy for the anime ai is from and lemme tell you. i fucking cried. like i knew how the first episode ends, more or less, but i still wasnt ready. she deserved more screen time frfr i wish to admit that i had a very hard time writing this one (not your fault!) since i struggle with writing characters similar to hishino SOBS so i sure hope this doesnt turn out too too bad! also if it sounds im ragging hard on ai/ai/type reader im so sorry TToTT i think its because i relate to ai a fair bit in regards to the whole masking/lies thing also spoilers at the end after all the hcs, has nothing to do w/ the request i just wanna yell ab episode one

Characters: lj, ej, and (platonic) toby

CWs; none!

Laughing Jack;

when he sees you acting cheerful and happy and put together around him, hes none the wiser

he may eventually catch onto some clues if the mask slips, and when he does hes going to poke and prod and pry

"why so sad, sugerplum?"

when or if you drop the perfect façade hes kinda... taken aback

more or less not much changes but hes more likely to keep a closer eye on you, pick up on small things that effect you

in a weird way he can relate

outwardly presenting as a charismatic person ready to catch the spotlight, but in reality being an reckless and inexperienced kid

its... comforting in an odd way, and while i want to say that lj helps you better yourself, i think he would cling onto it too hard and you two end up feeding into the lies

like i want to make this cute and lighthearted but with how i currently see lj, i just dont see him as being... the best, even if he doesnt mean harm to you

i mean, you love him, right? thats not a lie, is it? sure... neither of you had really.. said the words to each other, for fear that it wasnt going to be true.. but, hes sure he loves you-!

its

rough

honestly i think a raw and hard conversation is in order for the two of you to move forward and last

Eyeless Jack;

catches on almost immediately, unlike laughing jack, hes good at reading folks

i mean he kinda has to given that when he needs food....

moving on

he sees right through you, and hes scared that he can understand exactly what youre deal is; another who understands where youre coming from, only real difference with eyeless jack is that hes not trying to keep some charming act up

he subtly urges you to let the mask fall and talk to him, human to semi-human-turning-into-a-monster-human... afterall its not like he has someone to spill your secrets to, given youre really the only person he talks to on a consistent basis.... even if you werent the only person he had he wouldnt dare share your issues with others

with that said, if he cant help you, he wont force his help onto you... at least for as long as its not getting to ridiculous heights

generally minds his own business but he would love to get to know the real you

Ticci Toby;

obligatory hes written as platonic since im not comfy writing romantic stuff for him + im still trying to figure out just how to.. write him...

honestly i think its a 50/50 if he figures out something deeper is going on with you

on the chance he doesnt know, he just thinks youre a charming and bubbly person to be around albeit a little bit of a clutz... but hey when has someone not done something kinda dumb? doesnt think much of it, and things go on as usual

if he does find out youre only acting? i think at first hed be kinda mad, that you lied to him about... a lot of stuff, i mean can he really be sure he knows the real you? well, given the nature of your personality, yeah, to a degree he doesnt

as selfish as it sounds, i think hed need a minute to cool it before you guys can talk and find a way to move forward with the friendship. like i think ultimately hed come to some sort of understanding, since there was SOME ...genuine-ness.. to your actions

tries to make you cut out the pretending stuff outright, you can be genuine around him you dont gotta act like how others want you to act

ooooof yeah no im not too proud of this one but i didnt want to just give you nothing, so i hope that this doesnt totally suck to everyone else </3 again, im bad at writing like characters like this since obviously i feel i focus a lot on the façade thing anyways, below is me yelling about the first episode as mentioned above, spoiler warning !!!

I KNEW SHE DIED IN THE FIRST EPISODE BC I SAW SOMEONE MENTION IT WEEKS BACK I KNEW IT WAS COMING BUT I FUCKING CRIED LIKE A LITTLE BITCH

and when it showed the 1st birthday recording :( that just restarted the waterworks

i dont usually get so hooked on characters and feel for them this easily so quickly, but boy! was this an exception! maybe it was because the thing was an hour and a half long so thats a lot of time to get attached (thats probably what it was) but god

i knew it was coming but it still broke me

and when the babysitter lady offered to take them in

CRIES

anyways

sits

i might watch the rest of the episodes sometime, but idk how the rest of the anime is like after that banger opening

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x you #laughing jack x you #laughing jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x reader

[journalofimprobablethings]

JonTim Literal Sleeping Together: China Edition

(aka these two are still my faves, I will keep thinking about them being friends in s3 until the end of time)

--

On Jon and Tim's first night in Beijing, Jon books them a double room in a respectably unassuming hotel near the Research Centre. The room is on the sixth floor, and Jon supposes that the view from the window might be quite striking, if he was in any frame of mind to appreciate it.

Tim drops his bag onto the bed nearest the door with a thump as soon as they walk in.

"I never want to sit that long on a plane again, ever," he says. He twists and stretches his back, which emits several alarmingly loud pops.

"I'm afraid you'll have to in order to get home," Jon says, moving to put his bag down on the far bed. 

"Nah," Tim says. "We'll just do a bunch of hops. See the sights along the way. The Institute's paying, so why not?"

"Yes, I'm sure Elias will approve those expenses."

Tim snorts. Then he nods toward the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower. Unless you want first crack at it?"

It's an innocuous question, but Jon is still getting used to this old-new side of Tim—the way he checks in with Jon now, making sure that he's okay.

It's nice. He thinks it's nice. But it's strange.

"No, that's fine. You go ahead."

Tim nods and disappears into the bathroom.

–

The rest of the evening is like that—a bit fumbling as they work out bathroom logistics, then attempt to order some food ("I don't know why, but ordering Chinese takeaway when we're in China feels strange," Tim says). Even though Jon has spent occasional nights over at Tim's flat, somehow all their vocabulary for navigating a shared space seems to not quite fit here. 

But they're both trying, and considering how tired they are, Jon is proud of them for getting through the afternoon with minimal snapping.

By the time the food arrives, Jon's eyes are drifting shut of their own accord. He knows he should eat before trying to sleep, should try to stay up to a reasonable time to help with the jet lag, but when he's startled upright by the sound of his chopsticks clattering to the floor from his slack hand, Tim gives him a look and he nods at the unspoken message in his eyes.

He pauses only briefly between the beds—at Tim's flat, they had kept sharing the bed out of habit, and, as Tim pointed out, as the best option to avoid severe back pain.

But here there is no need to share. He had booked the double room on purpose, so they could each have their own space.

He casts one glance over at Tim sitting on the bed opposite. Then he crawls under the covers and is asleep as soon as he shuts his eyes.

–

Jon had hoped that tonight, just for tonight, he would manage a dreamless sleep. But of course, he's never been a lucky man.

The room is dark when he claws his way out of the dream, chest heaving with desperate, gasping breaths. The clock on the nightstand informs him that it's just past three in the morning.

He lies still, trying to get his breathing under control, hoping he hasn't made enough noise to wake Tim. The remnants of the dream still cling to him, wisps of fog and the hate in Naomi's eyes hovering at the edges of his mind, and as hard as he tries his breath keeps coming in rough, ragged gasps (loud, too loud)---

"Jon?" Tim's voice comes quietly from across the space between the beds.

Damn.

"I'm fine," he says, trying to ignore the strain in his own voice. "It's fine, Tim, go back to sleep."

It's a bit stupid, he knows, trying to act like everything is fine. He's already told Tim about the dreams. Tim has nightmares of his own, he knows; of clowns and theatres and that terrible helplessness, the feeling of being forced to watch someone else be torn apart.

But even though things are better between them now, there's always a part of Jon that feels the need to tread lightly; a part of him that worries that one day Tim will wake up and realize that Jon is a monster, that he's not to be trusted, that he should be pushed away.

So Jon curls himself into a ball, trying to make himself as small and quiet as possible, and hopes Tim will listen to him and just go back to sleep.

He's so focused on his own breathing, on trying to push the memory of the dream out of his mind, that he doesn't hear Tim get up, and he startles when Tim's voice comes again from just next to the bed.

'Budge up," Tim says. 

"What?"

The mattress sags suddenly, and it takes Jon's sleep-addled brain longer than it should to realize that Tim has sat down on the edge of his bed. Before Jon can protest, Tim lifts the blankets and scoots under them, giving Jon a gentle shove on the shoulder as he does.

"Move over a little, I'm going to fall off the side."

Jon does, mostly because Tim is already there and Jon wouldn't put it past him to actually roll off the bed just to prove a point. Tim settles himself in the space Jon's made–in a better mood, Jon would needle him about how much movement it seems to take for him to get comfortable, but as it is he just lays still and tries to even out his breathing.

Tim finally begins to settle, near enough to Jon that he can feel his body heat. Jon feels him roll over one last time, and then a gentle weight comes down on his shoulder as Tim reaches over to place an arm around him.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

Jon can already feel his muscles relaxing, the shakes leftover from the nightmare already subsiding.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Tim lets his arm fully settle around Jon, his chest a warm presence pressed gently against Jon's back. Jon takes a deep breath, and Tim's arm tightens around him, just a little, in wordless comfort. Jon reaches up to where Tim's hand rests near his collarbone and squeezes back.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"Shh, boss," Tim replies. "You're welcome. Go to sleep."

And Jon does.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #literal sleeping together #there were two beds this time #but that doesn't stop them #tma fanfic #scribblings #long post

[unchained-hound-dog]

Would you be ok writing Austin with a reader with depression? If not, that’s ok

Hi! Thank you for your request, I've put it under 'read more' as it contains talk of depression. Hope you like it.

TW: depression, bad mental health

Austin had been away filming for months, he'd come home occasionally once or twice a month and you'd spend the weekend or maybe just one day together before he headed back for filming. Despite the unimaginable amount of pride you had for the man, you missed him when he was gone and sometimes the facetimes and phonecalls just weren't enough.

You'd batteled with your mental health for a while, Austin knew this and made sure he checked in with you multiple times a day when he knew you were going through a rough patch, he would facetime you every evening to catch up on your day. Although, your depression often hit you harder some times than others, and although you loved having Austin there to speak to, your mind would tell you to shut everyone out and be on your own.

It had gotten particularly bad towards the end of Austin's stint away, the days seemed to be dragging and you couldn't seem to lift your mood, you spent more time in bed than you did out of it and you couldn't remember the last time you'd properly showered and gotten dressed. You sat in your bed, it was 9pm for you but you knew it was a couple of hours later for Austin. He'd texted you an hour ago to say he was going to facetime when he got back to his hotel and you assumed, by the continuous ringing of your phone, that he was infact doing just that. The phone rang out, guilt taking over you but also realisation that if you answered that call, Austin would take one look at you and probably end things. Your messy bun, which you'd done 3 days ago, was like a nest on top of your head, the bags under your eyes were a risk to you being charged extra if you had to go on a flight and your skin looked pale. You glanced down at your phone when it vibrated once, indicating a text message, a text message was something you were happy to look at.

hi babe, not sure if you're asleep but if you're just busy gimme a text so i know you're okay. love you - A

You sighed heavily, sitting up more in your bed and flicking the lamp on next to you. you pulled your hair out of its tangled lump and scrapped your fingers through your hair, re-fastening the hair-tie before running your hands over your face, you knew you should answer his facetime. You could just tell him you were busy with friends but it was a Tuesday evening and Austin knew you too well to believe you'd gone out with friends on a week day.

'Hi babe, was getting worried' Austin's voice sent a calming sensation through you as he answered your facetime call.

'Just doing some dishes, sorry' you half smiled in hopes he believed your lie.

'You okay? Look tired there baby' Austin recognised the headboard behind you, the face the blanket was pulled up to just below your chest. He knew instantly something wasn't right and he stopped what he was doing on his end to sit on the hotel bed.

'Mhm, been a long day at work just need a good night sleep' you could feel the tears hitting your eyes as you lied, knowing he'd be able to recognise the single tear that slipped down your cheek.

'Babe' his voice was soft as he spoke, unsure of what exactly to say next.

'Aus- I'm fine, i promise' you couldn't manage a smile as your tears fell, the hand not holding your phone came up to cover your face as you let out a sob.

'Listen to me, Y/N I need you to look at me a second, please' You could hear his voice over your sobs, glancing through watery eyes to see your phone.

'I'm coming home. I'll be back with you by the morning but I need you to just try and take a shower, order some food in and sleep. I'll be home by the morning'

'No! You don't need to come home Austin, I'm a big girl it's just a little bit too much at the minute'

'What's too much baby?' Austin began shuffling around his hotel room, packing up his stuff and texting the director to inform him he wouldn't be available for a couple of days due to a family emergency.

'Everything, work is so stressful, everyone just keeps piling things ontop of me. My friends keep reminding me that you're away by asking how I'm coping without you' you sniffled, placing your phone on the bed as you used both hands to wipe your face.

'Y/N?' You glanced back at the screen to see Austin's face.

'Yeah?'

'Will you get up right now and run yourself a shower or a bath, keep me on the phone if you want. I'm ordering you take-out right now'

You spent that evening on the phone to Austin until you fell asleep. The director of the movie he was filming was more than happy to jiggle the scedule around for a couple of days until Austin was able to return. He got the next flight home, landing at 6am and arriving at your shared appartment at 7am. He unlocked the door, wheeling his suitcase through to the kitchen before dumping everything there and walking slowly over to your shared bedroom. He pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the bed and noticing a small lump in the middle of his, soft snores coming from it as you slept. He pushed off his shoes and took all but his boxers off before walking over and begining to untangle the blankets.

'Austin?' your voice was startled as you turned over.

'It's me baby, I'm home' he found your body under the pile of blankets and snuggled in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to the back of your head where your hair smelt like your shampoo.

'I love you' you relaxed into his body, placing your hands on his.

'I love you more gorgeous, so much more than you'll ever know' You both fell asleep, cuddled up into each other under the weight of the blankets.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine

[pedroscurls]

Title: One Drunken Night (Part 6.)

CHAPTER TITLE: The Result

Character(s): Negan (pre-apocalypse), Joel Miller (pre-apocalypse, au), Reader (third-person POV) Summary: Reader finds out something unexpected, while Joel and Negan encounter each other once more. Word Count: 2,407 Author's Note: My, oh my! Now we have a reason for the title of this series... I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! We’re in for a more angsty ride ;) Warning: Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, death, language

(GIF Source: @joelmjller, @londoncapsule)

Two pink lines.

Two fucking pink lines were staring at her, almost mocking her for being so reckless.

And with a man she hadn’t even known for that long. With a man who had stopped talking to her. 

It was one drunken night and now, here she was, pregnant and feeling like utter shit.

She was overcome with so many emotions. So many things had happened in the last couple of days and finding out she was pregnant was the icing on the cake. She didn’t have Joel. She didn’t have Negan. 

She felt utterly alone.

She dropped down to the tile floor, her pregnancy test staring at her as she let out a loud sob. She was terrified. She never planned on having children and now she was going to be a mother. She didn’t know if she would even be a good one and it scared her. 

—

Joel was sitting at a bar, staring at his glass. It was a quiet night and he was grateful that there weren’t a lot of people. His mind kept drifting to the night of their date, the conversation he had with Negan, and the look on her face when she told him to leave. 

It wasn’t any of his business what she did. They weren’t in a relationship and they never had a conversation about who they could or couldn’t see. 

Then, his mind shifted to his brief conversation with Negan. He hated how the other man crawled under his skin, saying just the right things to get him riled up. Generally, Joel was able to maintain his composure, but Negan was different. 

He barely knew him and already, Joel didn’t like him.

“Want another?” The bartender asked, pulling Joel from his thoughts.

“Yep. Thanks.”

Just then, Joel felt someone take a seat next to him. He glanced over in that direction and immediately noticed the leather jacket first before his eyes moved to the familiar face. It was just his luck that the man he despised was now sitting next to him. It was as if the universe was punishing him.

“Joel,” Negan said, ordering himself a glass of scotch.

“Leave me alone,” Joel replied. 

Negan tightened his jaw. It had been a rough couple of days and this was the only time he had to get away after Lucille’s diagnosis. They had been at the hospital for a couple of days now and Lucille had urged him to get out of the hospital, even for just a few hours.

“Listen–”

Joel turned his attention to the other and tightened his jaw. “I just said, leave me alone.”

Negan chuckled, taking a sip from his glass. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“Haven’t I made that obvious?”

“Just admit it,” Negan said. “You know we’re the same type of guy.”

Joel curled his hand into a fist, staring at the other man with a glare. He couldn’t get that thought out of his mind, but mainly because Joel knew that Negan was right. The only difference was that Negan was loud and Joel preferred to stay to himself.

“She’s a good one, isn’t she?” Negan continued. 

“Don’t talk about her,” Joel replied protectively. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know her more than you think.” Negan smirked, flashing the other man a wink. “If you know what I mean.”

Joel then stood from the counter, downing his drink. He pulled out his wallet to pay for his tab before he heard Negan sigh. It seemed like the facade the other man had was slowly diminishing.

“Okay, wait, hey…” Negan sighed. “I would really like the company. I’m sorry for being an asshole. It’s kind of who I am.”

“Oh? I never noticed,” Joel lied, sitting back down. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just leave the bar. Maybe it was something different about Negan’s demeanor, about his presence that was a complete shift from when they first met and certainly since their conversation on the phone. “But you’re buyin’ my next round.”

Negan nodded. “Deal.” He raised a finger in the air, getting the attention of the bartender as Joel ordered another drink. 

Both men sat in silence, the sound of the bar filtering the building. Both their minds drifted; Negan to Lucille and Joel to Y/N. 

Negan, unsurprisingly, was the first to break the silence. “Is she okay?”

Joel sighed. “Not sure. She won’t answer my calls.”

“She really is an amazing woman,” Negan admitted. “I just wish– Different circumstances and all that, you know?”

“Hm,” Joel replied, keeping his eyes on the counter of the bar. He knew exactly what Negan meant. If he had taken a risk sooner then maybe she would have never met Negan. It was something he thought about consistently since meeting the other man. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“Got nothin’ to say to you,” Joel said.

Negan ran his hand over his beard, feeling the scruff against his fingertips. He had barely gotten any sleep since the news about Lucille and his body ached. 

“I don’t see what she sees in you,” Negan commented. “Maybe she just has a thing for us older men, huh?”

Joel huffed. “Listen, let’s not talk about her like she’s here. It ain’t respectful.”

“I do have a question for you, Joel.” 

Joel sighed in response.

“You love her?” 

Joel tightened his jaw. He knew the answer to that but hadn’t ever admitted it to anyone else, not even to himself. The plenty of times that he spent time with her had slowly brought him out of the dark pit that he had been in for so long. She was such a breath of fresh air he didn’t realize he needed and when he realized that Negan had been with her, it just made Joel have to come to terms with his true feelings for her. 

“She’s a good woman,” Joel answered. 

“That wasn’t my question.”

“Why do you want to know? She’s confused and it didn’t help that you decided to end whatever you had with her,” Joel replied. This had been by far the longest conversation he had with Negan so far.

Negan sighed, dropping his eyes. “A lot of shit happened in the past couple of days and I don’t want to drag her into my mess. She deserves better than me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel replied too quickly.

Negan caught onto his quick response and sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, Joel.”

“I don’t wanna understand. What you did the other night affected her.”

“I’m married,” Negan blurted out. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders and he sighed. He knew that Joel was going to react and Negan was preparing himself for it. “And I just found out my wife has stage three breast cancer.”

Joel immediately turned his attention to the other man. He felt his blood boiling, but it was accompanied with a mixture of emotions. Anger. Frustration. And… Sympathy? Regardless, Negan was married and Y/N had no idea.

“You’re a fuckin’–”

“I know,” Negan interrupted. “I know. Like I said, she deserves better than me.”

“So does your wife,” Joel retaliated. 

This caused Negan to tighten his jaw. He was already feeling like a complete failure before the diagnosis and finding out that Lucille had cancer was like pouring salt into the wound. 

“We– We were on the verge of divorce,” Negan admitted. “She wasn’t happy. We were always arguing… Nothing I did was ever enough and so one night, one drunken night, I met Y/N. It wasn’t my intention to sleep with her and it certainly wasn’t my intention to cheat on my wife, but it happened and I’m trying to make things right.”

Joel was conflicted. He had been in Negan’s position before; Joel had his fair share of failed relationships, but the one that pained him the most was his ex-wife, Sarah’s mother. He had wanted to do anything and everything to make it work, but it just never did. 

But one thing he never did was cheat on her. 

He couldn’t. 

He had Sarah to think about. 

“I’m sorry your wife’s got cancer,” Joel finally replied. He knew grief and losing someone close all too well. His mind drifted to Sarah and it still pained him to think about her and it wasn’t until he met Y/N that he felt comfortable enough to speak her name again. 

“I don’t know if she’s gonna pull through this, but–”

Joel interrupted. “You stay by her side every step of the way.”

Negan nodded, downing his drink. He looked over at the other man, noticing the distant look in his eyes and Negan had to wonder where his mind drifted to. 

“You gonna tell Y/N about this?” 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “Some things are meant to be kept secret. For her sake, at least.”

“I appreciate that,” Negan replied. He stood from the bar stool and sighed. He knew he had to get back to Lucille. “And Joel?”

“Hm?” 

“Take care of her.” Negan was walking towards the door after paying for his tab before he heard Joel call out his name.

“You know, you got one thing right,” Joel called out.

“What’s that?”

“She also deserves better than me.”

—

A couple of days passed after Joel’s conversation with Negan at the bar and he couldn’t help but wonder and think back to the other man. 

Though, it was Tommy who brought him out of his thoughts. “You haven’t talked to her?” He was sitting across from Joel after having dinner. They were both now having a beer and Tommy noticed the distraught on his older brother’s face throughout the night. 

“I tried calling her. It’s been almost a week,” Joel replied. “She don’t wanna talk to me.” It was true. The day after their date, Joel tried to reach out to her, but she never replied, never returned any of his calls. 

“I shouldn’t have ever crossed that line,” Joel muttered. “We were better off the way we were.”

Tommy shook his head. “And what’s that? Just friends?”

Joel nodded. “It was fine.”

“Joel…” Tommy set his beer down and looked across the table. He hadn’t seen his brother like this in a long time, probably before Sarah. His brother was in love and it was obvious to him.

“It’s fine, Tommy.”

“Y’know, sometimes I feel like an older brother.”

Joel scoffed. “Yeah, right. From the amount of times I have to bail you out–”

“Okay, I was just jokin’.” He interrupted. “Anyway, I’m just sayin’ if she’s not answering your calls, it wouldn’t hurt to apologize the old fashioned way.”

“And what way is that?”

“You’re the older one, you should know.” Tommy teased. Joel rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. “Bring her flowers, apologize in person.”

“But she don’t wanna see me,” Joel protested. 

“How do you know that?”

“She won’t answer my calls, Tommy.”

“It’s been that long since you’ve been out of the game, huh?” Tommy teased once more, causing Joel to stand from his seat to smack Tommy’s arm. 

“Let’s just drop it.”

Tommy sighed. “Listen, it’s clear you like this girl, Joel. When was the last time you’ve truly been happy?”

Joel glanced at Tommy as he walked into the kitchen, biting the inside of his cheek. Truthfully, Joel had numbed himself when Sarah died, not focused on anything but work. He had a routine. Wake up, go to work, go home, sleep. And he would do it all over again the next day.

But it wasn’t until he met her that everything began to shift. 

“I don’t know, Tommy.”

Tommy stood and followed Joel into the kitchen, setting the empty beer in the recycling. He clasped a hand over his brother’s shoulder and gently squeezed in reassurance. “What else do you have to lose?”

Joel looked over at his younger brother. Tommy was right. Joel was used to being alone, especially after Sarah died. The worst that could happen was that she didn’t ever want to see him again and while that thought scared him, he was already used to being by himself, unbothered by anything and everything. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“Attaboy,” Tommy grinned. 

—

It had been a week and it was another morning where she was on her knees in the bathroom, throwing up the contents from the previous night. She was a complete mess and couldn’t wait for her appointment with her doctor the following week. It had been a consistent five minutes of being at the toilet when she finally stood to try and make herself presentable. She brushed her teeth and grabbed an oversized hoodie to put on. 

Once she finished, she heard a knock at the door and sighed. She didn’t know who it could be, but she truthfully didn’t want to deal with anyone. 

She assumed that if she didn’t answer the door, the person knocking would just leave, but they were persistent and it was slowly becoming an annoyance. 

“Fuck, hold on.” She called out.

When the door opened, there stood Joel with a bouquet of flowers covering his face, but peering over enough that she could see his eyes. 

“Joel, what are you–��

“Hey, darlin’.”

She was overcome with emotions, staring between the flowers and Joel. Suddenly, she began to cry at the sight of him, taking a step back and allowing Joel to step inside. She wasn’t sure why seeing him made her emotional but subconsciously, she blamed it on her recent pregnancy.

“Oh, no… I’m so sorry. I–” Joel started, lowering the flowers as he inched closer to her. 

When she looked up at him with teary-filled eyes, Joel immediately felt his heart ache. Instantly, he pulled her into his arms and he relaxed once he felt her leaning against him. Despite the situation, Joel enjoyed their embrace and he tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer. They stood like that for a few minutes, feeling his shirt become slightly wet due to the stain of her tears. 

She pulled away, wiping her eyes from the fallen tears. She didn’t look up at him yet. Joel bit his lip and set the flowers aside. 

“I’m sorry,” Joel repeated. “For what happened the other night. It wasn’t any of my business and–”

“I’m pregnant.” 

---

Part 7.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged!): @kaitebugg03, @a-girl-interupted, @igotbasicdrag, @darkshadow6200, @fandomoniumflurry​, @xhannahbananax03​, @quinnverses

#story: one drunken night #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm fanfiction #jdm fanfic #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #pedro pascal fanfic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller au #the walking dead #twd fandom #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #negan the walking dead #negan pre-apocalypse #joel miller pre-apocalypse #the last of us fanfiction #the walking dead crossover #tlou x twd #twd x tlou #the last of us crossover

[pigeonwhumps]

Forced to hurt a loved one

MD-264N masterlist

Febuwhump day 13: forced to hurt a loved one

Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @den-of-evil @dustypinetree @cardboardarsonist @skittles-the-whumpee

Morgan's conditioning is triggered again, for more nefarious purposes, and Director Jodie Armstrong makes a breakthrough.

1.3k

CWs: conditioned whumpee, living weapon whump, forced to hurt, burns, dehumanisation, self dehumanisation

Morgan lies on the floor in the front room, legs up against Rhian's armchair, colouring. This is the most comfortable position, and even though weapons shouldn't take up so much space, Rhian says it's acceptable to sit here.

Asha hops over Morgan's legs to join Asim and Blue on the sofa, and the weapon cranes its neck all the way back to look up at her. She peers at the colouring book.

"Nice owl. You're doing the same colours as your Archimedes?"

Morgan nods. Technically this is a Sword in the Stone colouring book and so maybe it should colour the pictures the same as the film, but both Asha and Rhian have said that it doesn't need to be accurate, and this is the first time in its memory that that's been allowed. Despite seeing the video, it still can't remember any solid memories of its childhood before the government.

It is allowed, right?

Asha grins. "I like it. Hey, Asim, you can start the whales now."

Rhian squeezes its ankle reassuringly as the DVD starts, and it relaxes. Yes, it's allowed.

This is Asha's favourite whale documentary, and Morgan's seen it several times before, so it doesn't pay as close attention as it might otherwise, focusing on its colouring. It's okay, that's allowed here, the video isn't training or a briefing or anything that it's expected to memorise in its entirety. It's just entertainment.

Suddenly, a loud siren-like sound emits from the TV and Morgan jumps, looking up. Blue curses.

Asim frowns. "We didn't hear anything about this."

The screen switches to a news channel, and Morgan straightens up immediately, dropping its pencil and sliding onto its knees, hands behind its back.

"Morgan?"

Morgan doesn't respond, doesn't look round. It can't. That's the Director on-screen, and its full attention must be focused on her at all times.

"This is an emergency announcement. All citizens within the immediate area of Base 47 are requested to stay in their homes until further notice. Please be alert, but do not be alarmed, there is no danger to civilians if you do as requested. We are searching for the stolen government property MD-264N and the traitors hiding it. The crisis will be resolved swiftly and the traitors taken into permanent custody."

MD-264N, whose mind went blank when the Director spoke its designation, doesn't hear anything beyond that point. It has its orders, to take the traitors into permanent custody, and it stands, swiftly identifying the leader. It picks up the nearest makeshift weapon it can identify, an electric iron that swiftly heats in its hands.

Then it strides forward and pushes the rebel leader to the ground. It's not hard, he's clearly not really expecting it, and it presses the iron into the top of his shoulders. It tunes out his ear-splitting screams from years of practice, pressing it down, its free hand holding him down to stop him bucking away.

Someone wrenches it off its target and throws it to the side, kneeling on its back to cuff its hands as it struggles. No, no, it hasn't completed its task yet, it can't be captured.

It's sat up against the wall forcefully, still struggling, and someone crouches down in front of it.

"Sweetheart, you're crying," she says gently.

"Weapons don't cry," refutes MD-264N.

"Yes. You do. Morgan, do you remember who I am? Think, sweetheart, it's okay. Come back to me."

The person touches it gently on the shoulder and pulls it into a careful hug, one its commanders have never given it before. It feels so warm, so cared for, so–

A soft and rough owl-shaped toy is pushed into its hands.

Its mind rushes back and it gasps. Morgan. It's Morgan. That's Rhian. This is Archimedes. And– and–

"Asim. This weapon hurt him. Is he okay? It– it didn't want to, it's sorry, it's sorry, it–"

"Shh. It wasn't your fault, that was Armstrong forcing you. Asha's with him now, he'll be okay, I'm sure. Do you want to go back to your room?"

Morgan nods vigorously. "Please."

"Okay. Let me help you up, sweetheart. Blue's going to escort us."

"This weapon's ankle is malfunctioning. It, it doesn't think it can walk there."

"I'll help you."

Rhian puts her arm under Morgan's shoulders and starts helping it towards their bedroom, Blue following close behind. He shuts the door, standing guard outside, and Rhian tries to help Morgan into the bed.

Morgan stops dead in its tracks, forcing Rhian to pause, frowning at it.

"Sweetheart?"

"This weapon is dangerous. It should not be out in the open where it can hurt people."

"We broke through your conditioning, faster than last time. You're not going to hurt me."

"But it, it, I, it might. Something could set it off again. It doesn't want to risk it. Please, Rhian, it should go in the cupboard, where it can't harm anyone."

Rhian bites her lip. "It won't be comfortable."

"Weapons do not need comfort. It is a more usual place to be stored than a bed anyway, it will stay in good condition."

She sighs. "Okay. Okay. Can I uncuff you?" Morgan shakes its head. It should stay disarmed, it's not safe. "At least let me refasten them in front of you." The weapon pauses, uncertain, and then nods. Its hands will still be cuffed, after all.

Rhian uncuffs it, massaging its shoulders as she moves its arms in front of it, making sure that the sleeves of its hoodie are cushioning the cuffs.

"Is that comfortable? I know you said that doesn't matter but it does to me."

Morgan nods. "Thank you, Rhian."

"No problem. Let me sort out the cupboard. I wish you'd consent to staying somewhere more comfortable, sweetheart."

"The cupboard is already more than this weapon needs or deserves," replies Morgan readily. "This weapon's top priority is your safety and the cupboard will allow it to fulfil that objective best."

"Okay. Okay."

Rhian doesn't look happy as they line the cupboard with spare blankets and pillows, and Morgan doesn't understand. It's fulfilling one of its basic functions, to keep people safe, surely they should be pleased?

"Alright. I'll give you a duvet, torch, and a bottle of squash once you're in, we have all of them in this room. Can I give you another hug first?"

"Yes, Rhian."

They pull them into a tight, warm hug that Morgan wishes it could stay in forever.

"You're sure about this, sweetheart?" Morgan nods. "Okay."

Too soon, Rhian lets go, and Morgan climbs inside the little cupboard. Rhian passes it a duvet, a bottle of squash, and a torch.

"Come out when you're ready, yeah? I hope it's soon."

"Yes, Rhian." It might not be soon, it needs to stay in here until everyone's safe, but it will come out.

Rhian shuts the door behind it, and it's in darkness, alone. It buries its head in its knees, Archimedes held close to its chest, and tries to stifle its muffled sobs.

It didn't want to hurt anyone. It never does. But somehow, it always has to anyway.

_

A few miles away, Director Jodie Armstrong smiles at the blinking light on her computer screen. It worked. It actually worked. Maybe the scientists deserve a bonus for this.

It'll be a few days before anything's settled enough to come online properly, but that's okay. She can wait. She's waited months, after all.

And then, once MD-264N's back, they'll see what needs to be done about it. Whether it can be re-trained, used for experiments, or just needs decommissioning. It all depends on what's been done to it in its absence, because wherever it is, she's sure it hasn't been treated appropriately.

She presses a finger to her ear.

"Contact Colonel Colgrave of Section 13. Tell him that the verbal activation of the implants worked. We'll have MD-264N back in a matter of days, along with all the information we require. There's no need for him to interfere again."

#whump #whump writing #living weapon whump #living weapon #conditioned whumpee #whumpee and caretaker #whumpee and whumper #forced to hurt #burns #dehumanisation #self dehumanisation #md 264n #morgan the weapon #rhian the fighter #asha the medic #blue the engineer #asim the leader #recovery whump

[ticklishshenanigansau]

Day 19. Pedicure Sans was running completely on autopilot as he pushed open the bathroom door, resulting in a startled grunt as he nearly stumbled over Frisk. The girl squeaked from her position on the floor, bent over a small assortment of objects next to a wide open drawer. "O-oh! Hi, Sans...!" Sans took a moment to get his skull back into working order, processing the scene before him, grin stretching slow and casual. "woah, kiddo. i know you've always been kinda nosy, but raiding tori's bathroom supplies is kinda scandalous, don'cha think?" He grabbed his toothbrush and a tube of minty paste. Without missing a beat, he added, "so, what did'ja find?" Recovering with an embarrassed giggle, Frisk started cleaning up the small mess of toiletries. "Not too much, but, I did find this cool rock. I'm not sure why it was in there." She held it up. "Do you?" "le's'see." Starting to scrub his teeth with one hand, Sans took the rock in the other. It was lightweight and incredibly porous; a bit rough — much like his own fingers. Humming, he rinsed off his toothbrush and grabbed a towel to wipe his face before declaring, "no idea. but you can have it back for five g." "Saaaaans!" Frisk whined at him in playful annoyance. "No fair!" "pay up, kiddo." "Give it back!" "nuh-uh." "Give it!" "Give what, may I ask?" Toriel's amused voice rang out from the other side of the door, the boss monster peeking inside. Frisk and Sans both jumped, sheepishly turning to Toriel as she came inside. "uh ... jus' this," Sans admitted after a moment's hesitation, extending his hand to show her the rock. "...found it in your drawer, so, uh, i'll just put it back." "Oh, did you now," Toriel replied dubiously, swiping the object from his hand. "This is my pumice stone." "What's that?" Frisk asked curiously. "What's it for?" "Well, I would give you a little demonstration, but it is not good practice to share pumice stones for hygiene precautions." Turning on the faucet, she began soaking the stone. "However, as Sans is physiologically resistant to those very precautions, I will instead demonstrate on him." "h-hey! when did i sign up for this?..." Sans asked with a hint of a flustered pout, taking a step back. "When you lied, trying to cover for Frisk just now," Toriel answered with a giggle. Picking up the apprehensive skeleton, she placed him on the counter, pleased to see his feet were already bare. Kneeling down on the floor, she gripped one of his ankles and very gently placed the wet stone against his foot, starting to rub in slow circles. "A pumice stone is a tool used to exfoliate and soften skin. Since Sans is lacking in skin, I am being extra careful with him, hmhm." The skeleton huffed and started to squirm, the texture strangely triggering his reflexes. "no way...." It was a bit reminiscent of a scratchy tongue, or perhaps his brother's bony knuckles — but still, "you are not t-tickling me with a rock rih-rihight now...!" "Oh, I am not? I suppose you will not mind if I continue then." Frisk giggled at Toriel's playful smirk and Sans's exasperated eyeroll. "You see, sometimes, when we perform repetitive tasks or otherwise repeatedly irritate the skin, our bodies will adapt and start to thicken and harden, so, if you prefer your skin to stay soft, you must use a method such as this to maintain it the way that you like. It is also important not to exfoliate too much at once, or you may end up hurting yourself. Balance is key." "ghh~hk—! nnnmh...!" Sans couldn't sit still, hands creeping up his arms until he was outright hugging himself. "In Sans's case, however, it looks like it's just stirring up his magical nerves to the surface." She smiled jovially, setting the pumice stone aside and gingerly scrabbled her filed claws against his now-glowing sole. "Which I am certain he finds just as beneficial...."

Arching with a squeal, Sans yanked on his ankle until Toriel mercifully released him. "ohokay, okay! show's over! nhnn—!" He quickly scooted down off the counter, wincing and whining when his sensitized foot met the threads of the rug. Trying to avoid putting too much pressure in his steps, he hobbled his way out of the bathroom to the couch to calm down, cheeks bright and blue. "Thanks for the demonstration, hehe!" Frisk called after him, sharing a bubbly giggle fit with the boss monster.

#Tickletober #Tickletober2022 #Undertale #Sans #Toriel

[kittlesandbugs]

No rest for the wicked Fandom/Pairing: FHR / Chargestep Word Count: 700 Warnings: Retribution spoilers, but otherwise fairly innocent Summary: Ortega tries to get Sidestep to open up about how tired she looks.  It goes as well as expected.

"No offense, but you look like shit."

Your third cup of coffee of the day burns hot in your sinuses as he catches you off guard. It takes you a moment to cough it out. When is he going to stop sneaking up on you? 

"Someone has to keep you looking pretty," you snort when you can again, wiping your face on your sleeve, glaring at him for both the insult and the near-drowning. 

"We both know I don't need any help there," he says with a wink that makes your face warm up. Then he sobers too quickly. "Seriously though. You look rough.  You alright?"

"I'm fine," you growl, taking another slug of coffee.

"Riley…"

"What," you ask flatly.

He lets out a long-suffering sigh and mutters something under his breath in Spanish that you don't quite catch as he massages his temples with one hand. Mothering then, just like his.

Your face tightens, scowl deepens, and you repeat slow and punctuated, "I'm. Fine."

His back turns to you as he gets his own drink from the pot. Pours it into a sterile Rangers logo'd mug just like yours. You hide your frown with another sip even if he can't see it. Too many old memories itching in your skull. Too many things have changed. No way to tell if he's haunted by the same ghosts. Static is all you can get from his brain. 

He takes a seat across from you, hands cradling the hot mug of black coffee. Blessed silence reigns supreme. Maybe he's gotten the message. Maybe you won't have to spin anymore lies about how you have your spiraling life perfectly under control. 

"Are you sleeping okay?" 

You can't stop the cracked little "Ha!" that slips out. Sleep? When? Even if you could go a night without waking up screaming, you skip several just to keep up with your lives. Jolene isn't around anymore to give your body a break, even if you rarely gave your mind one. 

"Nightmares?" he asks quietly. 

"Yes," you cautiously admit because it's only half a lie. Doesn't count, right? 

He mulls that over before asking, "You wanna come over tonight?" 

Of course he'd ask that. You do sleep somewhat better there, but… You drag a hand down your face as you consider your options, because saying no to him rarely gets the desired result. Maybe after… No, no, you don't want him picking up the scents of expensive cigars and vodka off you. Asking questions. That won't end well. 

"Maybe tomorrow," you say, finally. "I already have plans tonight."

"With Angie?" Still no jealousy there. You do all manage to share well, for being selfish assholes. 

"No, someone else." 

"Look at you, being all social," he teases, but you can feel a brittleness to it. 

"I'm retired," you lie for the millionth time, easy as breathing. "How else am I supposed to pass the time?" 

"I'm sure you have ways. Do I know them?" 

There's an intensity there in his eyes that wars with the innocence of his question, and you don't particularly like it, so you drain the rest of your mug and stand. 

"None of your business," you retort as you abandon your mug in the sink. Time to bail before he tries to sink his claws any deeper. 

He puts himself in your path because of course he does, and you allow the easy embrace, the kiss, slightly bittered by more than just black coffee. You still need it as much as you need the caffeine. 

"What time are you off tomorrow?" you ask, too breathless and too warm when he lets you go. 

"Seven, pulled the mid shift."  His nose crinkles in displeasure, but it's a farce. You know he loves sleeping in. 

"I'll have pizza ordered for us."

"And dessert?" An eyebrow waggle and a grin you can't mistake the intent of, and you chuckle. That would almost certainly help you sleep.

"We'll see," you say coyly as you slip out of his arms towards the door. 

"Riley?" 

You pause in the doorway and meet his gaze. "Yeah?" 

"Please take care of yourself."

"I always do," you lie again and slip out the door. 

#kitbug writes things #fhr #chargestep #ricardo ortega #sidestep #riley owens #still playing catch up on posting shit i wrote before retri dropped #the spoilers in this one are minor lol but you know #riley try sleeping at night challenge

[fanficsforfun]

Close to you

Pairing: Yondu Udonta x female reader

Word count: 1,1k

Warnings: some rough language

Summary: You like Yondu and come up with a genius plan to make sure you get his attention

---

Come a little bit closer You're my kind of man So big and so strong

Come a little bit closer I'm all alone And the night is so long

You had seen him a couple of times. In your opinion he was cute, the blue skin, bright red eyes and all. He lived by selling stolen stuff to collectors. He was dangerous as hell, you knew that but you were completely under his spell. You needed to get in touch with him and figured the best way you could get his attention would be by letting him know you had something interesting to sell. So you stole a very interesting thing and as you suspected, got his attention. Word spread quickly and it wasn't long before he came to you. He and his scruffy gang of bandits staring at you curiously.

“I’m willing to sell this for 30 000 units”, you started and could see that he was really interested now. Well of course, as the price was less than half of what it would be on the market. “But only if you promise we’ll meet again.”

“Deal”, Yondu agreed off the bat. He’d get a Goddamn treasure practically for free if he’d just bother to meet with this little girl someday in the future. It was a great deal. Only a total idiot would turn it down. So the goods changed hands, and so did the money.

After the deal was done, you two went in your own directions, but you couldn't get him out of your mind. For a moment he had been so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body. The urge to touch him had been irresistible, but you hadn't done anything. That would have been too much of a risk. Yet the memory made you longing after him. The man's red eyes often twinkled in your daydreams and if you closed your eyes you still could see a smile flickering on his lips. It was just a smile to the good deal, but you gave him the reason to smile so it was to you too, right?

For a while you were okay with only having your fantasies, but eventually you got tired of waiting. You started hanging out at every possible place where Yondu might be, but you didn't catch a glimpse of the blue skin nor the black and red clothes. You already started to doubt that the man had lied until one day, while you were walking alone on the street, you suddenly felt someone's hand on your shoulder.

“Surprise”, a husky voice whispered right next to your ear. You shivered as you recognized him.

“Yondu”, you greeted him and turned to look at him with a smile. “Long time, no see. I thought you stood me up!”

“No, I keep my promises”, he stated, his hand still on your shoulder. The urge to touch him became overwhelming, so you decided to act, regardless of the consequences.

“Hey, um. May I hug you?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

The question came out of nowhere. He didn’t see it coming and for a second he couldn't answer anything out of surprise. It only took a moment before he got his thoughts back in order and was able to put the pieces together: an interesting object, a really cheap price, as a condition a promise to meet again and now this. That girl likes me!

“Of course”, came Yondu's reply with a smile that this time was for sure to you.

Your gaze wandered into his red eyes that sparkled brighter than you remembered before you wrapped your arms around him. You shivered again as you felt him do the same. You squeezed his jacket into your fists and let out a deep breath. Damn, how long had you wanted to do this. To hold him close.

“Ya could have just asked, ya know. No need to trick me with exceedingly low price requests and unusual terms of trade”, Yondu commented.

You felt your cheeks heating up. Oops, you thought. Of course he would eventually figure it out but regardless you felt like you would have done something really bad. Played dirty, nasty games behind his back. For a moment you felt like running away, but his grip on you was tight. He wasn't going to let you go.

“What did ya think? That I would say no if ya wouldn’t bribe me first?” There was amusement in the man's voice. “Come on!”

“Well, that’s what I thought”, you admitted, relaxing again.

“That’s ridiculous”, Yondu laughed but the laughter wasn’t malicious, more like when an adult laughs at a child's silly fallacy.

“Oh please, you’re not exactly the kind of man I would think wants to waste his time on something like this!”

“Everybody needs a little love, even me, although it may not seem like it”, he smiled.

“That’s not how I meant it”, you hurried to explain after realizing you sounded pretty blunt. “I just, um. You’re a damn captain of Ravagers faction and-”

Yondu cut you off before you could explain further.

“I got it but stop acting around me like I would kill ya any second or I might actually do it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry”, you whined.

The smile on the man's lips told you that he wasn't quite serious, but you weren't going to try your luck. When he loosened his grip on you, you took a step back, trying to hide your disappointment. You didn't want to let go just yet. The air suddenly felt cold when you were no longer in his arms.

You shouldn't have worried as before you knew, you found yourself from Yondu's bed right next to him, cheek against his bare chest. You had pressed yourself against him as closely as you could get, arms around him and leg over his thigh. The man stroked your back, smiling to himself. He was still amused by how much effort you had put in to make sure he would come back to you one more time and all that was just so that he wouldn't reject you when you just wanted to be close to him.

That night you had no trouble sleeping as Yondu’s presence made you feel so safe. If anyone would try to bother you, one whistle from him would be enough to scare whoever away (and if not, that problem would easily be solved with another whistle!). Honestly, you hadn't expected him to let you stay the night by his side. In fact, you thought he would have refused the hug, not to mention everything else, and laugh at your stupidity. Sometimes it was nice to be wrong.

#marvel #guardians of the galaxy #yondu udonta #yondu #yondu fanfic #yondu fanfiction #yondu imagine #yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Wolfstar hand kisses

Here I am again with the worms. Enjoy this thing, whatever this is.

Also, a little competition(?). There is a certain typo in the text that is very much intentiomal and is a result of me and bestie being sleep deprived at like three in the morning. Those, who will find it and comment, get my eternal love (and a cookie).

Remus Lupin would like to call himself a reasonable man. He would also say he had immaculate control of himself, considering his many years spent dealing with his unfortunate lycanthropy. Remus rarely got distracted from his goals, he also wasn't too quick to anger. The teen was usually the brains of their pranks, quick to make up lies to cover their mischief. But so help him god almighty, he would lose his mind tonight.

Sirius Black, the inarguably most desired man of their year, was currently laying on Remus’s bed and twirling his wand between his long and thin fingers. He was reading his herbology book, probably studying for the upcoming test that loomed over the Marauders’ heads.

-Hey, Remy? - his voice was an innocent sing song as the teen pulled Remus’ attention to him. The taller man hummed in response. - Did you know that Asphodel is part of the lily family?

of course he knew. He was already done studying for their test, so it would be obvious to him. That, however, didn’t mean Sirius needed to know that.

-Oh, really? That’s interesting. - Ouch. He sounded tired, more than usually. It was only a few days after the last full moon and his voice was still hoarse.

-Yeah, I know. We should give Lily Asphodels for her next birthday. Maybe she could dry them and use them in her potions. - Sirius’ eyes twinkled prettily in the warm light of their room and for a moment Remus forgot how to make air move into his lungs.

Remus smiled at his dear boyfriend with a gentle look in his eyes.

-Why not. Just remember to order them a couple days before so we won't have to steal them from the greenhouse, okay? 

Sirius only nodded with that wide grin he got when he was excited about something and went back to his textbook. He started twirling his wand between his long fingers again. A shiny ring that Remus has never seen before catches his attention.

-Is this one new? - he wrapped his fingers around Sirius’ own and pulled his hand closer. Sirius dropped the wand on the bed and scooted closer, resting his chin in his palm.

-Yup. Pandora made it. She found the rock last Saturday when we went to the lake for a picnic, remember? - Sirius sounded awfully proud of the shiny ring. That wasn't an unusual thing for him. He loved showing off the things his friends made for him or gave him. Sometimes he reminded Remus of a bird, making a little nest on his bed. He would pile all of the shiny things in a very specific spot that would be the same without fail every time it was stocktaking time. He would pull Remus next to the bed and show him every single rock, ring, piece of glass or can tab. Sirius was very fond of stealing the tabs on the cans his friends had. Sometimes he would be so quick with it they wouldn't even notice when he took them. 

-Mhm, i do.

Remus gently took the ring off and looked it over, observing every detail. He put it on the bed with the most gentle move he could muster through the shaking of his hands. 

He slowly removed every ring from Sirius’ pretty fingers and put them in that spot. He rubbed the spots they revealed. Sirius’ skin was so much softer than his. Where Sirius was all soft lines and thin skin that was awfully smooth (probably from the cherry hand cream he was fond of so much), Remus was rough skin and scars. His hands were bigger, sturdier, more square. Remus’ skin was covered in tiny scratches and scars almost constantly. Sirius would say it was his anemia, Remus would every time try to convince him it was actually just bad luck. Sirius’ fingernails were perfectly manicured almonds with trimmed cuticles and sometimes even a shimmering nail polish. Remus’ nails were more square and rarely kept in a state that maybe stood next to presentable (it was usually when Sirius insisted on doing his nails with him. Remus liked it very much. He would disappear you quicker than James catches a snitch if you ever told anyone that.). 

When all the rings from Sirius’ fingers were securely laying in their little spot on his bed (why Sirius always demanded to do the showcasing on Remus’ bed was lost to him (he learned a long time ago to not think about Sirius’ life decisions)) he pulled his hand closer to his face.

-Your hands are really pretty.

Remus’ voice was a soft rumble as he turned his hand this and that way, observing his skin. Sirius smiled and his expression melted instantly. Damn that observant bastard. Maybe Sirius played dumb most of his life to get people to do things for him, but he was far from stupid. He had two perfectly working (and looking) eyes and he knew how to use them. Right now those eyes told him that the cold of the early autumn night got to Remus and his bones were aching. He would probably have to take out his cane soon.

-Are they? - Sirius cooed at him softly. He let Remus have this moment and enjoyed the rare softness his dear boyfriend was showing him right now. 

Remus rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

-Yes, they are.

He pressed the softest kiss imaginable to Sirius’ wrist, holding his hand gently in his own trembling grip. He moved up, pressing little kisses higher and higher, over his wrist and palm. He stopped at the spot where his fingers started and turned Sirius’ hand over. He kissed his prettily pink knuckles and moved down. Around his thumb, on the back of his hand, over that one vein that always seemed to be there, nicely protruding from under his thin skin, his lips made their journey already engraved in his soul.

He tried fixing his grip on Sirius’ hand but hissed and let go completely.

-Remy? Are you okay? - Sirius’ awfully sweet voice hit his ears. There were suddenly thin fingers gripping his own in a gentle touch that made him want to weep.

-Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little achy from the cold.

They both knew it wasn't fine. The aching always started in his knuckles and then spread to his wrists, elbows and everywhere. Sirius decided one winter to knit him gloves and then have Lily, the lovely woman that she was, enchant them permanently with a warming spell. Although Remus’ hands got too big for them and the charm faded, he still always kept them in his trunk, safely tucked among his treasures.

-Well, if you say you’re fine, then you’re fine.

Remus knew Sirius wouldn’t drop it. He never did. He would find some sneaky way to make him feel better, just like he always found a way to get Remus to tell him he loved him.

-I think your hands are pretty, too. They’re the prettiest necklaces.

Sirius had a serious (no pun intended) look on his face but broke after only a second under Remus’ gaze and started giggling wildly. The sound tugged on Remus’ heart painfully. Call him a masochist, but he was happy for this pain.

-Okay, okay. But seriously, they are pretty. Because they’re yours.

Sirius started rubbing his knuckles in a completely not suspicious way. He picked up his wand, not suspicious, muttered something, also not suspicious, and tucked the wand into his bun. Remus felt heat spread over his fingers, Sirius’ rubbing only making the heat rise and melt deeper into his aching fingers.

He huffed out a breath but let Sirius do his thing, knowing how important this little ritual was to his dear boyfriend. And okay, maybe having the absolute prettiest person on the planet rubbing his aching knuckles gently while rambling about which crystals were the prettiest wasn't so bad after all. But you wouldn't catch him saying it.

And then, unfortunately for Remus’ poor heart, Sirius leaned down, held his trembling hands in his own and started pressing gentle kisses to every single knuckle on all ten of his fingers. Remus grumbled and tried pulling his hands away.

-No, Remy. Please let me. I wanna do this for you. - Sirius looked at him with the prettiest eyes in the universe and something in Remus crumbled. - If not for you, let me do it for me. I like to keep my jewelry in good shape.

He slowly relaxed his hands and let Sirius do his thing. His touch was gentle, like any pressure would cause him pain (which was actually probable, just not now. It got worse the colder it was, and during winter even holding a pen or squeezing his fingers together was just too much). The warmth seeped into his bones and spread through his body. The stress of the fool moon, annoyance over his slowly slowing down bones and anger over the whole world really, because why were there so many things that annoyed his dear boyfriend and why couldn't he fix them right now, slowly seeped away. His head started dropping and it was hard to keep his attention on Sirius.

-Hey, Remy? Let’s go to sleep. We can shower in the morning.

Remus quickly gathered Sirius into his arms and laid them both under the blankets, securely pushing Sirius’ lean body into his chest and wrapping his own long limbs around him. Right before and right after the fool moon the wolf in him would get possessive of Sirius and the only way Remus could sleep was with his painfully familiar body held in his arms. 

He sighed happily into Sirius’ lavender smelling hair (because of course Sirius would give up his painstakingly crafted hair care routine just to use the shampoo that least irritated Remus’ sensitive nose around the full moon) and squeezed him tighter. The warmth of Sirius’ body pressed into his own seemed to soothe his perpetually cold and aching limbs and slowly lulled him to a deep sleep, uninterrupted by pain or nightmares.

#wolfstar #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #not beta read we die like me rn #this was made for one (1) person

[tea-with-eleni]

What went wrong?

So... the whole education department is leaving my museum. Well, okay, not the whole education department. The manager and the two part time workers are staying. But the three of us who were the actual museum educators, who did most of the legwork and actual educating? we're out after the eclipse.

I consider the other two educators my friends. We have quite a bit in common. We're all the same awkward not-quite-millennial, not-quite-gen-Z age. We went through college at about the same time. We're all the kind of people who will teach somebody something if you leave us along in a room with them long enough, but have no desire to be classroom teachers. Our skills aren't quite identical, but we can all cover for each other in a pinch. We're all single and likely to stay that way for the immediate future, have religions but don't really publicize it, don't drink (two of us never bothered, one of us can't), are adhd, and share similar tastes in literature. They couldn't have found a more evenly matched team if they tried. Which is, it turns out, to their detriment.

see... it means that we all generally agree with and empathize with each other. If they wrong one of us, they wrong all of us.

So... a rough list of grievances, in approximately chronological order.

They threw one of the educators out of the loop and effectively banned her from working in the planetarium. The planetarium she built up from ground zero. That one.

They told the other two of us to make a push-button show in two months. It takes experienced teams with no other responsibilities six months. Then, they yelled at us about how much time we were spending working on the show in the planetarium, even though we were going a bit mad, even though we were effectively casting from hit points to keep going, even though we were making incredible progress and could tell EXACTLY where the time had gone; we were hardly goofing off. Even though it was not, in fact, detracting from our other responsibilities. All three of us ended up breaking down inside the planetarium.

They drove us to varying degrees of anxiety/meltdown at their holiday event and didn't need to. Nor did they apologize or even acknowledge what happened. I'm sorry, I don't forget when multiple coworkers have to talk me through an autistic meltdown while they themselves are coping with their own sensory hellscapes.

No educators qualified for a raise this year, ostensibly for assorted minor reasons but probably because they were trying to gaslight us into blaming ourselves rather than fessing up that they couldn't afford it. Had they been honest, I think we would have been understanding. But. Yeah. They lied. Not cool.

I was written up for showing too much emotion at my manager when something went wrong that wasn't my fault, on my recently deceased grandfather's birthday. And told I would be fired if it happened again.

They assigned a stupid and pointless recurring task to the worst possible team member they could have assigned it to. I offered to take it over, since I didn't mind it and (as previously stated) all of our skills overlap to the point where it didn't make a difference. Then they refused to listen, for months, when we pointed out that giving them what they wanted was actually impossible with our current staff -- we can't teleport.

They totally ignored almost all of our suggestions to improve the planetarium and, in fact, told the other two of us to not work on it so much too. Some of the suggestions they used to deliberately insult us and the hard work we'd put in about something we were truly passionate about.

Policy decisions are routinely made by our manager without consulting us concerning things like the planetarium, which she never enters and cannot even turn on. Let alone make it work.

They care more about how effectively we've swept and vacuumed and put away gross toddler-spit-covered blocks that aren't even our department's property than how well we do things that are much more obviously in our job description. The blocks have been disappeared by one aggrieved part time worker. We will never tell. When we leave, they can pin the blame on us. It's fine.

They seem to have it in for the one male coworker. Not sure why. Could be misandry, antisemitism, or maybe they just don't like that he's speaking his mind. Or maybe they don't like that he's a northerner. Impossible to say.

They sent the most personable manager, who isn't even our manager, to try to boost our morale.... her tips were received as "don't think about it too hard", "accept you'll be written up, a lot", and "your anger at your current treatment is overrated".

They fired the education coordinator two months after she started. Was she good at her job? Not really. Did I like her as a person? Not especially. Was she properly trained in her job? NO. Should she have been fired? Probably not.

I genuinely don't think they realize how much we do empathize with each other. I genuinely don't think they realize that we relate much more to each other than we do to management; the differences in stage of life or maybe generation (managers are much more firmly millennials, we relate more to the Gen Z part time employees) is quite sharp.

And clearly, they don't value that they have three employees who all possess fairly rare and valuable skillsets. We can wrangle our planetarium. We can plan low budget educational activities that capture public interest on a dime. We can run summer camps for kids ages 7-13 with very little prep work. We can lecture on things we barely understand and convince people we're experts because we all have that broad kind of knowledge acquired by ADHD people with internet connections. And we're all very comfortable public speakers. We can analyze a situation and come up with ways to creatively improve it.

Other museums -- other institutions, we're not all going to museums next -- can see what we are. They're bending over backwards to get us to join them.

So. We're out. And we're looking forward to some very.... interesting.... exit interviews.

Assuming they get around to doing those, since our last day is April 8 and a little bird told me there's going to be some kind of major celestial event that day that the museum might be a little bit busy wrangling. IDK.