#specific games from left to right (more or less) are:

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

[somnimagus]

colored some more things from my sketchbook! zelda edition this time

[id in alt!]

#loz #legend of zelda #food #specific games from left to right (more or less) are: #twilight princess #wind waker #skyward sword #ocarina of time #minish cap #it feels like i suddenly understand how to color when i do these.. i'm scheming ways to get digital art to click like this for me #but man i used to be obsessed with midna medli saria and vaati as a kid so drawing them again a decade later feels super weird #and adult me now has an additional love of telma ruto and for some reason fledge. i think his design is cute #i don't show my ocs on the internet so you're gonna have to take my word for this but #zelda actually completely sparked my love of character design! i'm still hugely inspired by the older games #plus the anthro designs from botw! i love teba very much #but fi specifically is probably my favorite character design from anything ever. she's perfect to me #fan art #my doodles #my art

[waffled0g]

Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it

Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.

Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...

Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.

Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 

Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.

Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.

Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.

Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:

Clashing, neon colors.

Use of diametric shapes.

Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.

It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:

It was a special time, yes.

I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:

I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 

Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.

Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.

So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:

It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.

Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.

Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.

I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:

1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.

Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?

Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.

#90s #1990s #memphis milano #grunge #everything you know is wrong #y2k

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I am posting and responding to this ask anonymously as I don't want anyone harassing its sender. This has already been communicated with the person who sent the ask.

I just want to thank you for being a light in the darkness of anti-semitism, especially on this website. I have found I am on this site a lot less ever since it was made clear that other leftists here are more anti-semitic than we ever knew possible, using very specific wording of our own trauma against us (i.e. saying stuff like "colonialism", "genocide/ethnic cleansing", and calling JEWISH PEOPLE Nazis). It feels like, at best, they know Hamas ≠ All or even most Palestinians, but think that they think all JEWS = Bibi; and at worst, agree with Hamas and think of him as some sort of "freedom fighter". So, thank you from one leftist Jew to another, just trying to keep afloat here. ❤️

You are very welcome; it's certainly been overwhelming, and I'm glad this can be a safe space for you.

I do want to push back on some of this ask, though. Specifically in regard to terms such as "colonialism," "apartheid," "genocide," and "ethnic cleansing."

The use of these terms is not inherently anti-Semitic. For a lot of people, these terms are the best ones they have access to describe what they are seeing. I do think such terms as “colonialism” and “apartheid” are overly simple in regard to the last ~3000 years of Jewish history, and that they cast the situation into an alien historical context which dilutes and uncomplicates the all the historical realities at stake, but I truly do not think that all who use these terms do so to cause Jewish people pain.

Further complicating the picture is that terms like "colonialism" aren’t completely wrong. Modern Zionism arose in the context of mid-nineteenth century European large-scale movements towards nationalism (ie, the creation of nation-states) and away from the multi-national empire. Jews—a subject of anti-Semitism and fifth columnist suspicions within those emergent European nations—reacted to all this by joining the nationalism game.

What’s ironic, is that those European Jews who founded contemporary Zionism were reacting to the exclusion and racial hatred with which Gentile Europeans treated them, and then once they had some settlements in Palestine, they deployed similar variants of racial hatred at both the Palestinian Arab population, and Middle Eastern Jewry.

The existence of a distinct people and ethnic group in Palestine before the aliyot were not something the first generation of Zionists were concerned with. Because they were part of the same shitty, white supremacist, pro-imperialistic intellectual European tradition to which they were responding as victimized parties. As time went on and Zionist thought spread across Ashkenazic communities, we can see some variants. Some forms of far-left Zionism in twentieth century Poland, for example, actively built the presence and rights of Palestinian Arabs into their ideology, some of them actively stating that Zionism could not be a success if it necessitated transforming Palestinian Arabs into a group of secondhand citizens and a cheap source of labor in their own home.

Those leftist strands of Zionism tended to be Socialist/Communist in nature, and centered around the idea of life in Eretz Yisrael as one of a series of self-sufficient communes. Thus when the 1930s hit and things start to go bad, the Zionists we see fleeing to Palestine tended to be of the more centrist and far right variants. The left wing, socialist movements, already operating as a collective, had a membership uncomfortable with fleeing to safety while the rest remained behind.

And that same socialist/communal attitude, is why those variants of Zionist thought never made it into the Israeli political mainstream; most of their members and proponents were murdered in the Holocaust in part because they refused to leave their comrades behind. The General Zionists and Zionist Revisionists who rode out the years of the Holocaust in Palestine therefore already had access to the avenues of power which would become important in 1948, when the British Empire shrugged off its responsibilities towards the regions it colonized and destabilized.

Now, as for ethnic cleansing. I can’t sugar-coat this: that’s what the Naqba was. It was ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arabs from their homes to make way for the Jewish State. The manipulative shit (but still somehow extremely prestigious) youth group I was in taught us that Arabs call it Naqba because they hate Jews and therefore existence of Jews in the Southern Levant was a tragedy, as was the fact that Hitler didn't finish the job.

That’s garbage: it’s called the Naqba because it was ethnic cleansing. And that's not the fault of the Holocaust survivors who made their way to Mandatory Palestine/Israel in the late 1940s--they lacked political power, and were often looked down upon by those who did; the Holocaust as part of Israeli National Mythology wasn't an immediate Thing.

If you spent your formative years around older Jewish folks of A Certain Generation, whose trauma has pretty much placed a permanent block on their ability to see some of what went down in 1948 for what it was, I can’t blame you for having that gut/cognitive dissonance reaction to the use of “ethnic cleansing” in the context of Israel and Palestine. I know those older folks. I loved them. They’re mostly gone now, and I miss them terribly. But their trauma-induced view of everything lives on in the ability of some younger Jews to properly name and understand what it is that happened in 1948.

It was ethnic cleansing.

Further, not only were Palestinian Arabs ethnically cleansed, but the Middle Eastern and North African (MENA) Jews who were forced by their governments to flee their homes of thousands of years and seek refuge in Israel throughout the second half of the twentieth century…the Western and Central European Jews in control of Israel and its institutions treated them like shit too. Hadassah actively stole the babies of Yemeni Jews, told the parents that their children were dead, and rehomed them to Ashkenazic couples. There were death certificates. Members of the Ethiopian Jewish community were forcibly sterilized, and their ongoing treatment by the State is racist and generally atrocious. And this analysis of the relationship between the Israel State, MENA Jewish populations, and different Ashkenazic groups in Israel is horribly short and overly simple.

As for genocide. I honestly don’t know. I do know many people, who are very much not Anti-Semites, who are calling what’s happening in Gaza right now genocide; many of these people are also Jewish. I know many others who refer to the experiences of Palestinians between 1948 and now as a slow genocide. Many of these people are also actively not anti-Semites, and many of them are Jewish.

So these terms, as uncomfortable as they may feel for people within the very specific Jewish generational background I believe we share, are not deployed as anti-Semitic weapons. Nazi comparisons? Yes. Swastikas superimposed over the Star of David? Yes. Very specific hook-nosed Jewish caricatures in relation to Israelis? Yes. Blood libel shit? Yes. These are all anti-Semitic, and are deployed to hurt and retraumatize Jewish people. But the rest are not nearly that simple.

And I didn’t learn this from like, Bad Evil Post-Modern Academics at Columbia University Who Hate Jews; I learned this from doing graduate-level work in the field of Modern Jewish History, and working in Jewish archives; this did not come from outside the building.

Now, as for Hamas as freedom fighters…that’s ignorant at best. Hamas’ charter clearly calls for the global destruction of the Jewish people [ETA: they edited this part out in 2017 for PR purposes], and their actions as rulers are horrifically, violently, homophobic, and seem to be more abut provoking Israel than they are about governing and protecting their people. But as you said, Hamas isn’t all Palestinians, and it’s also not all Palestinians who consider themselves freedom fighters. (A second reader of mine had the following commentary on this paragraph: "Might need a bit more complication around Hamas? I know that's not your area of expertise but it's worth mentioning that they were basically set up to undermine the PLO and what would become the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank. You're right that they aren't representative of all Palestinian thought and resistance, and that they are on some fuck shit.")

So while I’m so glad that blog is a comfort to you, I encourage you to also take a step into some of your discomfort, and ask yourself where it comes from.

No one reading this post has my consent to use it to silence other Jewish people who are in different stages of their journey towards understanding how generational trauma has impacted their ability to grasp all of this. Further, if you choose to attack me for gently calling my people in, you're a piece of shit and I will be mean to you.

#jewish history #israeli history #palestinian history #history of zionism

[toxicanonymity]

At the table.

2.2k, DARK!Joel x f!reader, then dark!Tommy

Joel master list

A/N: One shot, follows Caught, can read alone. Throwaway Joel encore by popular demand 🚬🤡

SUMMARY: Joel brings you back to his apartment and makes you suck him off then cockwarm him while he and the boys play cards. Tommy tucks you in but not before getting off.

WARNINGS: Very dark, mean, dubious consent (captivity & ongoing abuse), humiliation, degradation, manhandling, injury (intentional burns), shackles, blow job, P in V, cockwarming, stretching, fisting-adjacent fingering

He caught you. You knew he would. You never should have tried. It was too easy and you’re beginning to realize he probably left you unlocked on purpose. For the chase, the thrill of the hunt, and the punishment. The humiliation.

On the walk home, Joel screws open his canteen and asks if you’re thirsty. You nod and he forces you to your knees and tells you to open your mouth. He takes a swig of water, swallows it, then spits it in your mouth. Then he takes another sip and doesn’t swallow it. He squats down, firmly takes your jaw in his hand, and lets it dribble from his mouth to yours.

“Now get up.”

You struggle to your feet and he yanks you up by the elbow. His apartment isn’t too far, because you didn’t make it far when you ran.

On the way up the stairs, he groans with the effort. “Too fuckin tired,” he complains. “I should get Tommy to fuck some sense into ya.”

You’re quiet.

“Bet ya’d like that, huh?”

“No,” you reply.

“‘an’ why’s that?”

“Only want yours.” If he knew any different, he probably wouldn’t let Tommy speak to you much less touch you.

“Cause i ruined ya, didn’t i? Ruined all your holes.”

“I dunno”

“Got ya too stretched to even feel Tommy’s, right?” He sighs and musses your hair. “Ruined. Now you’re just for me. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“That cunt’s never gonna please another man now.” He chuckles darkly. “But hell, might as well try, darlin’.”

You don’t say anything else.

“I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He’s passed you around enough that you don’t doubt it, but he always keeps you to himself in the end. It’s almost like a game of dominance. Like he’ll let the men get a taste, then yank you away and laugh that they can’t have the rest.

Joel gets you back to his apartment and you’re briefly relieved when he doesn’t take you straight to the dim room with your bed and chains. But he does shove you up against the door with his hand around your throat. “Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You nod a tearful acknowledgement. He lets go of you and softens his tone. “Such a pretty girl,” before adding, “Fuckin’ act like it.” You nod again.

“Boys are comin’ over,” he says. “You’re gonna sit on my cock and you’re not gonna fuckin’ move.”

—--

Your clit twitches. The sitting-on-his cock part, that doesn’t sound half bad. But you’re afraid of what else he might do. You’re also afraid of what’s becoming of you. Part of you (a specific part of you) is more excited than fearful at the thought of him hurting you, humiliating you. It’s pavlovian - he’s forced you to cum so many times in fucked up situations, your body can’t help itself.

They’re coming over to play poker. They sit in the kitchen. First, Joel puts you under the table at his feet. “Do a good job, and I might let ya stay there.” You palm the warm bulge over his jeans, then straddle his boot as you unbuckle his belt. You slowly feel him getting bigger and harder. When he’s fully stiff and his hips begin to rock into your hand, you dig your knuckles into his belly as you unbutton his jeans then unzip him. You massage him through his boxers before unbuttoning the flap and taking out his hard cock. You wrap your hands around it as you sit up more to bring your head to his crotch as Tommy deals the cards. Joel moves an ashtray from the table to a shelf behind him.

As your head approaches his groin, you get a strong whiff of his musk and it makes you throb. You take his tip into his mouth and don’t go slow. He doesn’t like it when you ‘tease’ him. You suck with your whole mouth and throat, bobbing your head, getting him really slobbery, his girth stretching the corners of your mouth. Your suction extracts his salty precum and a drop trickles down your throat. Joel plays a hand of poker and growls from his chest. The sound makes you twitch and your crotch presses into his shin for relief.

“Lil slut’s already humpin’ my leg.”

They laugh. Tommy asks, “dibs on next?”

Joel scoffs. Not today, apparently. “Fuck off, man,” he grumbles, then peeks under the table at you. “Take your clothes off, baby.” You get his dick really wet, then take off your pants and underwear, preparing to climb into his lap. “Everything,” Joel says. You take off your shirt, too. You don’t own any bras right now. "C'mere." He puts down his cards and rests his hands face up on his knees for you to grab onto. You begin to hover over his lap, biting your lip. He sticks two dirty fingers between your legs and slides them through your folds. He laughs at how wet you are. "Thirsty bitch. Turn around."

Your thighs shake as he makes you face the rest of the guys. He holds his cock with one hand and guides you by your hip with another. The men stare. As soon as his slobbery tip hits your cunt, he impales you on his cock. You gasp as he bruises your cervix and your body tries to catch up with him, giving you more moisture. Then he roughly gropes your breast and pulls you back against his chest on full display for all of them. He massages both your breasts with a groan.

"Your hand, buddy," Joel says to the man across from him. The men compose themselves to keep playing.

He rocks you on his cock, massaging your breasts in a circular motion with your nipples between his middle and ring fingers. His thick cock moving deep inside makes you feel good. Nothing hurts at the moment, except your nipples which are so hard they're on the verge of pain. He moves one hand to your clit and begins to rub you with abandon, still massaging your other breast. Tommy lights a cigarette.

By the time it's Joel's turn to play, you're about to cum. You look up at the ceiling and he bounces you on his cock in short quick pulses. The tension bursts and you whimper as he moves his hand from your clit to the back of your neck. "Look at me, baby." When you turn your head to the side, he slams you down on the table. Your hard nipples are swallowed up by your breasts with the impact and you're still coming. He holds you down and you whine as your walls choke his cock.

Your hips rock with your climax and he commands "stay fuckin' still." You whine and gush on his lap as he holds you down on the table.

"Good God," he grumbles. "You're gonna wash'em"

You finish coming and Joel keeps holding you still. You know better than to try to move. He picks up his cards and holds them between your naked shoulder blades as he plays his hand. Then he puts them face down on your back to light a cigarette. He picks up his hand of cards again and sits back in his chair.

The men continue their game, talking like you're not there, but you can feel their eyes on you. Your breasts are sweating against the slick wood table. Your eyes are growing bloodshot with the smoke of their cigarettes. Joel's cock occasionally twitches inside you, thick and stiff.

Tommy finishes his cigarette and hands it to Joel, nodding at the ashtray behind him. You flinch and your ass clenches as he brings it to your shoulder, close to a cluster of scars. He presses the smoldering end to your skin and you tense with the white hot burn, making your cunt choke his cock. You twitch with pleasure as the burn fades. His cock moves.

"Oof," his hips shift under you. "Easy baby." He's close to finishing his own cigarette. They continue playing. When Joel finishes his own cigarette he sits back and brings the cigarette butt to your lower back.

He lifts his hips as he presses the butt of it into your skin and your eyes pinch shut. Your body erupts in goose bumps and as you clench around him, he begins to erupt with a long sigh. He pulses warmly against your cervix. Lifting his hips and sighing as the other men watch. Your eyes briefly flutter open to see Tommy palming himself and you lock eyes with him. Your mouth falls open, you pinch your eyes shut, and you moan as another climax overtakes you.

Joel finishes dumping his load in you and you're a whimpering mess as you finish coming. He leaves you on his softening cock for the rest of the game, and you begin to drift off, then one of the men wants to talk about their drug supplier. Joel sighs.

“She asleep?” Tommy asks.

Joel leans to one side as he digs into his pocket and hands Tommy a key to your chain. “Put her to bed.”

—---

Tommy clears his throat then adjusts himself, then nudges you. “Hey, ready for bed?”

“For Christ’s sake, just take her, Tommy.” Joel lifts his hips and holds you up against the table by your sides. You wobble as you begin to stand on your feet.

“Clothes?” Tommy asks.

“Nah,” Joel says.

Tommy swallows and takes you by the elbow. His grip is firm but nothing like Joel’s. He takes you down the basement, catching you when you wobble on the stairs. Then he gently shoves you down on the bed like it’s a chore. “Why’d ya run?”

“I was hungry.”

“I’ll getcha somethin’ if you’re good.” He probably would. He was the one who got you a blanket.

“Thanks.”

Tommy palms himself over his jeans as he watches you turn on your side and reach for the dirty blanket. He shakes his head. “Not yet, sugar,” and you drop the blanket. He kneels on the bed. “Open those pretty legs and lemme see the damage.” You turn onto your back and spread your thighs.

Tommy bends your knees for you then spreads your thighs wider.

He watches Joels cum leak out of your fucked-out cunt and gives a low whistle. “Really did a number on ya tonight, didn’t he? Kept ya on it forever”

Tommy sits on the bed and reaches for your pussy. He runs his fingers through your slick and inserts two, then three of his thick digits within seconds. “God damn,” he mutters. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head no.

You squirm with tension building as he finger fucks you. You watch him watch his middle three fingers go in and out of your cunt. He then he adds his pinky, stretching you even wider. You gasp at the strain. "Fuck," he says. He thumbs your clit and slowly moves his fingers inside you in small pulses. Your body adjusts and gets wetter again. "You wanna cum again? Cum in my hand like a good little slut?"

You nod.

"Gonna let me fuck ya first though."

You swallow. "Okay."

Tommy takes his soaking wet hand away. He unzips his pants and takes out his hard cock, stroking it with his dripping hand as he gets between your knees. His cock looks painfully stiff.

He braces one hand on the bed near your navel and slides his cock right into you. "Shit," he mutters, disappointed rather than pleased. "Shoulda done this first," he laughs. "Could prolly fit two of me in here right now, huh?" His cock wasn't small, either. He thrusts a few times and pulls you toward him by your thighs. You try to squeeze him with your walls and he chuckles. “‘s good effort, sweetheart.” After thrusting a few more times, he speeds up. He slams his hips into you and your back arches. You whimper on the verge of coming.

“Really?” Tommy asks? “I’m hittin' somethin'? You can feel it?"

You nod with a whimper.

“Alright,” he pants, “I'll let ya have it.” He rails you hard and fast for a minute then you whine as a climax overwhelms you. Your walls contract around him and he says, “Yeah, there we go,” and keeps fucking you. "There it is." He fucks you through it. “Ready or not,” he mutters, then slams his hips into you and begins to dump his load. He sighs as his spend fills you and mixes with Joel’s. Then he pulls out and smiles darkly as some trickles out of you. He gathers it with his fingers and pushes it back inside.

"Gettin' real good at takin' all this," he whispers, then squeezes your thigh affectionately. He reaches for the floor and grabs the blanket. "you're a good girl, ya know." He cuffs you to the bed and spreads the blanket over you. "you know better than runnin’.”

You nod. Tommy squeezes your thigh as he stands up, then he goes across the basement and returns with some jerky. “I’ll talk to him ‘bout the food”

“No don’t”

“Why not”

“I’ll get in trouble”

“Not gonna say you said it.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

He walks upstairs leaving you alone.

-------

------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging 🖤🤟

@toxicfics for notifications ✉️

For a different dark Joel who's more complex, read raider Joel ⛓️🖤 read the latest if you haven't for his POV.

For a different dark Tommy, see Birds of prey (raider Tommy)

For another under table bj that leads to Tommy, see Tommy's hard day. 🗼

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️ #ultradark ☠️ #tw dubcon #tw dv

[cumikering]

Keegan Russ x reader

3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends

You matched with Keegan on Tinder

@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat

“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.

It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.

This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.

You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.

You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.

At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone.  Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.

“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?

He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.

Okay, so you were the life of the party.

Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you…  Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.

He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.

“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.

He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.

He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.

After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?

You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.

As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.

Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.

“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”

He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”

“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.

At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.

“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.

He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.

Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.

“Hi, Keegan.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.

“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”

His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.

“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”

But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.

“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?

“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”

He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.

“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.

Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.

“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”

“So soon?”

You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.

“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”

After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.

The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.

Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.

He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.

“Hi,” you said when you got to him.

“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”

You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.

You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.

First skin contact. Innocent enough.

But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?

Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.

You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.

Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.

Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?

You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.

Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”

“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”

“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.

“Can’t be. Let me try.”

You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.

He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”

By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.

It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.

“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”

“I told you!”

“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”

You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”

“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.

“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.

“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”

You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.

“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”

You wanted to kiss him right then.

Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.

Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.

You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.

It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.

Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?

Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.

He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.

“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.

“A few months now.”

“Any luck?”

He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”

When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.

“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.

“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”

A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”

“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”

“Handsome dude?”

“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”

You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar

“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.

Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.

He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.

Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.

“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”

He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”

“You ever told her?”

He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”

You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.

“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”

Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?

“What was she like?”

“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”

You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.

You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?

“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”

He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”

Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.

You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”

“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”

His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”

“Right away.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”

“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”

The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.

And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”

“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”

His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.

“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”

You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”

He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”

Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.

“Are you?”

“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.

You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.

“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”

You laughed against his neck.

Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.

With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.

More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU

A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.

@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts

#codholiday2023 #call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #keegan x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod fluff #call of duty fluff #keegan russ fluff #keegan russ #keegan p russ #brian bloom u my fave tuker tambah dong

[a-sip-of-milo]

Need a reason to live?

Recently, I made four polls with eleven reasons to live in each. Most of those reasons were given to me by people who have also been suicidal in the past, and I decided to compile them into one long list (plus some) for anyone who needs it to come back to when they're out of reasons to keep going.

⚠️ Disclaimer: Please do not turn this into one of those "ALWAYS REBLOG IF YOU SEE" posts. Thank you. ⚠️

Relationships

Your furry companion(s) (this means pets and friends who are furries <3)

Your friends

Your family

Those who look up to you

To reconnect with someone you haven't seen in a while

Your headmates (specific to those who are apart of systems)

There's someone who isn't around anymore who would want you to keep going

To eventually be a mentor to someone

To make sure your animals never have to sleep alone

To fall in love

Your partner

To meet your online friends/mutuals

To tell your mentor/the people who raised you with kindness that you made it

To see someone close to you through their final days

To make it big enough to eventually provide for those you care about

Your FP (personality disorder specific)

Group photos with your (found) family and friends

To help your friends do the same

The friends you've yet to meet

A promise you made to someone special

Acts of kindness

To be there when someone needs you

To see someone smile because of you

To make a stranger's day a little brighter

To hand out compliments to those who need it

To make the world a little bit better before you go

To treat the people around you the way you wish you'd been treated

To be the one person in someone's life who is there unconditionally.

To help someone you love to quit an addiction

To do charitable deeds

Affection

Hugs from someone you trust

Kisses from a partner, close friend or pet

Cuddles when it's cold/lonely

To laugh until your stomach hurts

Forehead touches

To hold someone so tight that they're wheezing

Doting on people when they're feeling down

To make the people around you laugh

Interests

That new game/movie/show/book/album/etc. that you’ve been waiting for

Telling everyone and anyone who will listen about your special interest/hyperfixations

To share creations that aren't appreciated enough

To save up for something that would make life more bearable

To finally complete a collection

Projects would be left unfinished

To travel

To complete a project you've been working on for a long period of time

Projects you've yet to come up with

To start participating in special interests you've had to put on hold

To laugh at the creations you made when you were younger and less experienced

Those who consume your work would never get to see another creation of yours

Spite (because I think spite deserves Its own section:))

To stick it to your abusers

To prove your younger self wrong

To prove the people around you wrong

To prove your younger self right

To prove the people around you right

To spit on the grave of someone who hurt you

As a big 'fuck you' to the world and everyone in it who tried to silence you

To outlive your enemies

To do something that you've never been allowed to do (get a piercing, tattoo, cut or dye your hair, etc.)

To show off your success to the people who doubted you

To make sure whoever hurt you doesn't win

Milestones

You've got a milestone of some kind that you'd like to reach before you go

To see your (future) children reach a milestone of their own

To see a birthday you never thought you'd make it to

To graduate from school

To see your wounds from self-harm heal

To experience old age

To get married

To recover from your eating disorder

To experience independence

To start/complete your transition

To go on your first date

To get your first job

To adopt a child and give them the life that they deserve

To rescue a pet and give them a home

To purchase your first car

To rent/purchase your first house/apartment

To have your first child

To lose your virginity

To experience the joy of knowing you escaped/got through a bad situation

To eventually publish your own book/art piece/etc.

Miscellaneous

To finally get diagnosed with something important

So if nothing else, you can still say you survived

You have a bucket list you'd like to complete

To live because you want to, not because others want you to

Comfort drinks with someone you love

You wrote a letter to yourself that you can't open until a certain date/birthday

Those rare and valuable pieces of media with good representation of a minority/marginalised group.

To read through past conversations with people and cringe/laugh/cry.

All the different foods you've yet to try

To see the world become more accommodating to those who need it

To watch the seasons change

To celebrate the holidays

For those days where you do feel okay, perhaps even good

To eventually replace the stuff in your closet with things that represent who you are now

To read back on journals and diaries you made when you were younger

If you are not in a place where any of these help, that's more than okay as well. It will be here if and when you ever need it. Being suicidal can be extremely lonely and scary and we all deal with it in different ways.

If you have your own reason and you feel comfortable sharing it with me, let me know via asks or DM and it will be added as soon as I can 💞

#reasons to live #npd safe #bpd safe #did #osdd #tw eating disorders #tw self harm #tw death #tw abuse #mental health #positivity #neurodivergent #cluster b safe

[sanakimohara]

“Stalker” B.C.

{ MDNI }

+++++

Chan as a stalker would be painfully toxic. The constant messages you’d receive from him, vague, but highly personal. He wouldn’t threaten you at all…at first.

It starts off with little random reminders or sending a few innocent pictures of you doing random tasks throughout the day.

“You look so cute when you’re cleaning, baby…”

“You should really eat something today, sweetheart…”

“Don’t stay up too late like last time little one…need you well rested okay?…”

Then he progresses to intricate gestures. It’s not hard to get to you since you’re a trainee under JYPE and coincidentally share the same dorm building as Stray Kids. Chan has easy access to the areas you occupy most often.

Even your dorm, specifically your bedroom.

Of course you don’t know this so when random pieces of your clothing start to disappear and reappear at odd times you just chalk it up to your forgetfulness. In reality Chan slips into your room when no one’s around, admiring how neat or messy you keep it, and committing to memory all the little trinkets/games/decor that you personalized it with. He likes the fact that your room reflects who you are, it brings out your purity in his opinion, and if he could lock you in it he would.

Deep down he liked the idea of locking you in his room much better. Then you’d be even safer under his constant watch. For now he settled with invading your private spaces, slipping your panties into his pocket as he wanders around, picking up the little messes around your room. When he’s all done and satisfied with the amount of possessions he’s taken from you he writes a note to you before leaving and continuing on with his day like nothing happened.

“Keep your room clean, sweetheart.”

You’re shaking with fear and anxiety reading his note but seeing as you don’t have a clue who wrote it you keep the information to yourself. It bothers you all week but weirdly you’re loving the anonymous attention. Blushing at random times of the day just from the thought of who might’ve written that note for you. It’s still terrifying but you admire their devotion…

Chan observes you from an afar after that, continuing to sneak in your room when he has the chance, and leaving less than innocent notes on your desk more often.

“You did well practicing. I was impressed, really,”

“I left you a little gift for working hard, baby. Open it when you’re ready..”

You spot his gift at the foot of your bed, all the random clothes (mostly underwear) he’s taken from you are neatly washed and folded too. It disgusts you to see your intimates causally laid out -and probably used for other purposes- like a present. At the same time your mind is reeling with the image of your ‘admirer’ getting off to the simple scent of you or the thought of you wearing them.

You’ve never felt so beautifully violated in your life and you hate how wet it gets you.

Something has to be wrong with you…

Paranoid. You become extremely paranoid and Chan uses that against you. You’re such a young trainee, being tortured by some skillful stalker, and he’s the first person you open up to about it. How can he not help you cope?

Everytime you come running to him about the last occurrence with your supposed stalker Chan is ready to console you with a warm smile and loving embrace. Sure, he’s extremely turned on by the fear in your wide eyes, and his cock twitches every time you curl into him for a comforting hug. He’s just there to help you through this mess, right?

“Why would anyone want to treat you this way?..”

“I’ll protect you I promise… “

“You can always come to me when you don’t feel safe..”

Every word he says is a backhanded lie and you fall for it every time. You spend less time in your dorm and more time with him. The other trainees and his members notice but don’t say a word since Chan never makes it a big deal. That isn’t to say he doesn’t purposefully act unnerved by the notion of a stalker with in the company.

His habit of texting you escalates into sending obscure photos of you in the shower, alone in the practice rooms, or simply getting changed. He’s gotten comfortable with his obsession now, actively seeking out chances for vulnerability, and that raises your fears and fantasies higher.

“Want to see you do this in person…”

“I can’t help but to watch you , baby… I’m just making sure you’re safe…”

Safe….and unknowingly reliant on him.

A perfect combination of control and fear.

“I know everything about you, little one. You can never hide from me…”

+++++

#bang chan #bang chris #skz #skz smut #stray kids #bang chan smut #skz x reader #chan skz #skz imagines #stray kids x reader

[princessmaybank]

hi princess, I hope your break is going well <33 this is like super specific but could you do a jj x Routledge!reader with super blonde frizzy hair nd jj doesn’t know she dyes it brown until he walks in on her with a lions mane getting dye ready

No pressure at all for u to get to this, i love ur work so so much and I hope you’re going okay princess <333 thank you

thank you for the request! wasn't sure if you wanted smut in there but that's how all of my Fics end up so I'm assuming you do! I'm sorry this turned so dark if you wanted it fluffier. I have recently started Haunting Adeline 😂🤭🩷

Hair Dye

Pairings: JJ x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Surprise Kiss, Fingering, Rough!Dark!JJ, Spanking, Panty Ripping, Hair Pulling, Choking, P in V, Creampie, Caught, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^

Author's Note: Wrote this so fast, I hope you like it, sorry it's so late!

"I just don't see the point, dad and I have brown hair, you got blonde hair, you should feel special!" John B says as I walk down the aisle searching for the color I want. "That's exactly the point JB. I feel left out. It's odd, plus people have asked us way too many times if we're dating, even though we have the same face." JB rolled his eyes in defeat as I found the shade of brown I was searching so hard for. I was so excited that I could barely wait until we got home.

"Hey JJ is coming over soon!" I hear JB yell from the kitchen as he puts away some groceries. "I expect nothing less. Your boyfriend basically lives here!" I laugh as I go into the bathroom and read the instructions. Once I think I finally have it down and the parts mixed together, my brother calls me into the kitchen. "I'm gonna start cooking dinner. Is there any way I am going to talk you out of this? Blonde hair takes a long time to come back." He says and almost on cue JJ stumbles in the front door. "And yet yours keeps coming back." I say throwing my thumb over my shoulder. He chuckled at my stupid joke and ruffled my hair, causing it to frizz up even more than it already had.

"Hey there, hot stuff." JJ said with a wink. I roll my eyes before walking to the bathroom. "He was talking to you!" I shout teasing JB about his best friend. "I definitely wasn't but okay. What's with her?" I hear him ask my brother. I put the gloves on and get a towel ready under my neck. "She's going to dye her hair. I kept trying to talk her out of it. Fuck, I forgot something at the store. I'll be back, try not to kill each other." I heard the screen door slam as John B ran out.

I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway until they reached me. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it too are you?" I say setting down the bottle of dye. "Not gonna try shit" I breathe out a sigh of relief. "You're not doing it." He demanded. "Who do you think you are?" I ask with a full attitude. "Y/N. You don't need to dye your hair." I shook my head. "I want to!" I whined. JJ went to grab the bottle of hair dye and so did I. Eventually he tore it from me and held it above his head. I wasn't able to reach it and he laughed because he thought he had won. I looked him in the eyes and took his face in my hands, planting a big kiss on him. when his lips moved back and forth with mine, I knew he'd drop his arm any second. And he did. I took the chance and stole my bottle back running to the guest bedroom and trying to make it to that bathroom. I wasn't aware JJ was right behind me until I was pinned against the bathroom door.

"Why must you be a little brat all the time?" He asked. JJ's eyes are dark now. This wasn't a game anymore. He removed the bottle from my hand, I let him take it because I was so stunned by this sudden change. "You're. Not. Dying. It." He said with a low menacing voice. "Jay-" I tried to plead, I don't know why, but he was scaring me. He was also kind of arousing me. I never had these feelings for my brother's best friend, maybe it was just how dark he felt in this moment.

He stared into my eyes before placing his lips to mine once again. It felt different this time, I felt a zing, coursing through my veins. His fingertips were now bruising my hips as he lightly humped me through our clothes. This felt unreal. I peak my eyes open for a moment. Yep. it was still JJ. He was still grabbing me with an intense force and grinding his rock hard cock into me.

My eyes shut again and I just went with it. His right hand moved to unbutton my shorts. When he found his way in, he didn't tease, he only plummeted two fingers into my soaked core. "He won't be gone long, if there's something you want from me..tell me now." He demanded again. My eyes stared into his begging to be fucked but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "F-fuck me.." I whispered through my breath, unable to think as his fingers moved back and forth. "Speak up." His harsh tone scared me slightly but I said my phrase again, louder so he could hear.

His fingers escaped my opening, causing a whine to spill from my lips. He rolled his eyes before pulling my shorts down. I kicked them to the side before I was roughly turned around and slammed up against the door. A gasp flew out of me unexpectedly followed by another when I felt him slap my ass. I let out loud moans as he continued, taking turns with my cheeks. When they were blood red, he squeezed them in his hands. I hissed from the sensitivity he caused.

He toyed with my panties for a few seconds before he spoke. "You don't need these." He chuckled lightly before I heard a ripping sound. Shock was written all over my face as he tore the rest of the thin fabric off of my body. His fingers found my slick folds and teased them for a moment. I was about to chime in before hearing the sound of a zipper and shorts dropping to the ground. I didn't have enough time to process the noise before I felt his cock slide inside me. He let out a dark groan and quickened his pace, not letting me adjust to his size. He was going so fast and so hard. I was a moaning mess. My head started to fall but he didn't let it get too far. His hand pulled me back by my hair while his other wrapped around my throat. His fingertips squeezed tighter, not giving me much room to work air in or out. "You like that? Like my hand wrapped around your throat while you take my cock?" He asked and all I could do was give a small nod before he pulled my hair again, so now my ear was against his lips. "What would John B say if he walked in on us right now? Think he'd be pissed to see his sister with my cock jammed in her tight pussy?" He teased.

Those words were enough to cause an eruption in me. My orgasm hit me like a freight train and slid down his cock and onto his thighs. His hand left my throat and fell to my hips as I pulled in as much air as possible. He fucked me hard a few more times before his cum leaked inside of me.

The sound of the screen door opening and closing apparently wasn't enough to get JJ's dick out of me. My throat was tired, I couldn't mutter a word and JJ knew that. He rode out his high which made my eyes roll back. It was enough for me to squeeze my thighs together and cum again.

"JJ when I said anything, this is not what I meant!" JB shouted. We never even heard him walk in, but we heard the bedroom door slam. We cooled down and I went into the bathroom to inspect my neck. There were bruises where JJ had a hold of me. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. JJ was a lot brighter now. "Oh he messaged me before you two got home and told me to make you not dye your hair. He said to do anything I have to." He chuckled. "Wasn't planning this.." He said pointing to my neck. "But I'm glad it happened." He shrugged and kissed my forehead. A smile spread onto my face before I laid my head on his chest. He held me in his arms and I promised to never dye my hair.

"Good, I like pullin' on this blonde lion's mane." He giggled before I swatted at his chest.

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

[carav4l]

dim light

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Summary: After the first Quidditch match of the year, Y/N founds herself in the wrong side of the bar at the club she works at. And she’s not specially happy about it. However, Theo Nott is even more pissed, and he has all the rights to be.

Warnings: violence (not developed, but a fight does take place), swearing.

Before you read: this piece is set in a CollegeAU! English is not my first language, so please take that into consideration and be nice. Also, the whole piece is written in third POV because it’s the one I’m more comfortable with. Reader’s house isn’t specified, but definitely isn’t Slytherin or Gryffindor for the plot’s sake.

Y/N had to cover for one of her colleagues that night, Aubrey, who was feeling unwell after accidentally tasting some unfinished potion they had been working on that morning’s class. So, much to her regret, Y/N had to experience the post-season party from behind the bar at the Witch’s Hour Nightclub. Y/N wasn't the biggest fan of Quidditch by any means, but she did love everything that came with it at the castle: the colorful stands, skipping classes to watch the other’s houses games, the tension during the match, and above all, the celebrations that followed.

"Can I have two strawberry daiquiris, please?"

Ginny Weasley's words were met with a nod from Y/N, who smiled hoping to conceal her frustration. As she prepared the drinks, she glimpsed her group of friends amidst the dance floor frenzy. Just about ten minutes ago, they had all been keeping her company, sympathizing with her bad luck until Y/N urged them to enjoy the night on her behalf, and they had moved towards the dance floor to never come back. With all honesty, Y/N didn’t blame them for doing so.

Once the daiquiris were ready, Y/N placed them in front of the redhead without a word, her forced smile still in place. After paying for her order, the Gryffindor left the bar to join Luna Lovegood on the other side of the room.

Y/N barely had time to stash the money in the cash register before another group of girls shouted their order at her, noticeably less politely than Ginny. Y/N found herself close, very close, to spitting on the three Sex on the Beach cocktails in front of her. She couldn't stand how people could seem to lose their manners with the slightest bit of alcohol in their system. It didn't take her long to realize that, when it came to those girls, the unjustified attitude was because it had been Y/N who had taken their order, not the curly-haired guy going back and forth behind her.

Theodore Nott seemed considerably more annoyed about working that night than Y/N. And rightfully so, given his position as chaser on the Slytherin team, which had also happened to lose the game that day. Well, if Y/N was in a bad mood, Theo seemed ready to hex anyone who entered his line of sight at any moment.

Y/N took the wad of bills the group left, or rather slammed on the counter, and turned to head back to the register. This time however, she ended up colliding with something herself, most specifically her coworker's chest. The boy’s hands shot to her waist to prevent her from falling, and Y/N felt the exposed skin between her black crop top and low-rise sequin miniskirt burn. She unconsciously grabbed onto Theo's forearm, her chest constricted by the sudden scare.

"Hey angel, seems like you really tripped over me there," he said with a grin once Y/N steadied herself, not even making an attempt to let her go. In fact, she felt like he was tracing circles on her hip with his thumb. Y/N became acutely aware of the places where Theo's skin touched hers. "You good?"

She lifted her gaze to his watercolor eyes and cursed herself for the effect they, and the boy himself, seemed to have on her. It was utterly stupid, as everyone knew that Theodore Nott wasn't available and didn't seem like he would ever be. The boy seemed way above any one-night stand or anything as trivial as college relationships. Y/N believed she could count on one hand all the girls she knew he had been involved with. In some way, she respected him for that.

"Yeah, sorry," she apologized with flushed cheeks, silently grateful for the dim lighting of the venue. "It's just that tonight's been a mess and I'm a bit distracted."

Her words got lost in the music resonating through the speakers. Theo put a finger to his ear to signal that he hadn't heard anything, then buried his hand in Y/N's hair and gently brought their faces closer. Y/N repeated her response, earning a nod and a guttural sound of agreement.

"Tell me about it," Theo sighed then, pulling his face back just enough for their eyes to lock. They were so close that their noses almost brushed.

"I still don't quite get why you're working tonight, to be honest. I thought there was an unwritten rule that said Quidditch players didn't have to work on match days."

"Well, let's just say dear boss couldn’t seem to care less about that rule," the guy said, giving a sidelong glance at Philippa Harvey, a rather ill-tempered Ravenclaw who happened to be the club's manager. She was on the good side of the bar, dancing suggestively with a guy Y/N couldn't quite place. "Let's say she made me an indecent proposal, and I turned her down. And voilà, here I am."

A pang of something close to jealousy reluctantly settled in Y/N's stomach. It's not like she had any right to feel that way, anyway. She opened her mouth to express how sorry she felt for him, both for Slytherin's defeat and the fact that Philippa had finished screwing the night for him, but the sound of someone banging on the counter forcefully stole her opportunity.

"Hey, you two! Less groping and more pouring drinks."

It was a Gryffindor from the Quidditch team, tall and big, with a rather ordinary face. Y/N assumed that's why she couldn't remember his name. In any case, he seemed pretty drunk to her.

After trailing her cheek with his thumb one last time, Theo let go of her and with the distasteful expression he had worn all night back in place, told Y/N that he would handle it. She sighed and resumed the task of putting away the money in the cash register. Once done, she walked over to where Theo was serving the Gryffindor big guy to attend another one who had just arrived at the bar.

As she was about to start making a gin and tonic for him, a shot glass was placed right in front of her. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Theo, and he just shrugged in response. "It's going to be a long night," he seemed to convey with the gesture. "We might as well make it as enjoyable as possible." She agreed, so she took the shot and brought it to her lips without hesitation. Theo did the same with his own shot, never taking his eyes off her, and Y/N wasn't sure if the rush of heat that swept through her body was due to the alcohol or his gaze.

"Have another one on me, Nott," the Gryffindor guy interrupted them again, placing another pair of bills on top of those already on the counter. "And another for your gorgeous coworker. It sucks that you have to be the one serving drinks after how we beat the shit out of you guys this afternoon, don't you think?"

Theo clenched his fist around the glass, his knuckles turning white. Lips pressed into a stern line, he continued preparing the jerk's drink without looking up from his task. Y/N continued hers, not taking her eyes off the scene unfolding by her side.

"I also think it sucks that such a pretty girl like you has to be on that side of the bar," the Gryffindor guy persisted, unabated. Y/N looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still working, grabbing a bottle of gin from under the bar and pouring it into the glass in front of her. "When you get a break, you could look me up. We Gryffindors know how to show a girl a good time."

Disgusted, Y/N opened her mouth to tell him that she'd rather get eaten by a basilisk than to let him lay a finger on her, but someone beat her to it.

"Don't you even think about talking to her," snapped Theo, slamming the drink down in front of the Gryffindor with such force that Y/N thought the glass might shatter. "In fact, don't ever look at her again."

Y/N was taken aback by such words. She glanced at Theo with a racing heart, but he didn't return the look because his gaze was fixed on the idiot. The latter laughed brazenly.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

Y/N saw a glint of anger in Theo's watercolor eyes, so she hurried to slip under the boy's arm resting on the counter and interpose herself between him and the Gryffindor. For a moment, Theo ignored her and continued to glare at the rival idiot. With a slightly trembling hand, Y/N grabbed his face by the jaw and forced their gazes to meet. If he had taken her that intimately before, he shouldn't mind her doing the same, right?

"Theo," she called him. He however, not willing to give in attempted to turn his face again. "Theo, just leave it. It's not worth it."

Y/N felt Theo's grip on his jaw tighten even more, but he nodded imperceptibly anyway.

"Fine."

"Yeah, Nott, listen to your little whore."

In the blink of an eye, Theo had jumped over the counter and landed a solid left hook on the round-faced Gryffindor. Y/N gasped in surprise at the sight. The Slytherin boy wasn't particularly known for getting into fights, not even when they happened during a match and the rest of his team and some of his friends were involved. That was more typical of Mattheo Riddle, or Lorenzo Berkshire. By Merlin, even Malfoy could be more prone to fights than Theo.

But there he was, straddling a guy who was a head taller and twice his size, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N figured the only reason Theo barely had gotten a scratch on his cheek was that, as she had suspected earlier, the Gryffindor was quite drunk. For a moment, Y/N just stood there, doing nothing but watching the spectacle unfold before her eyes, as if in a trance that prevented her from looking away. It didn't last too long luckily, and once she managed to move, she went straight to the dance floor, heading for the area where she thought she had spotted Theo's group of friends over an hour ago.

If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy's bleached blond hair, Y/N didn't think she would have found them in the mass of dancing bodies. Pushing any insecurities the group might make her feel deep down, Y/N grabbed the wrist of the person who was closest to her and shook them hard enough to get their attention. Mattheo Riddle's dark eyes met hers shortly after, giving her an unfriendly once-over from head to toe. The guy didn't even bother to speak, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm... I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she introduced herself awkwardly, trying not to dwell on it for too long. "I work here with Theo. This is actually about him. He's fighting with a Gryffindor idiot, and I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but the guy is like twice his size, and I can't separate them."

Surprise transformed Mattheo's face, which only confirmed the belief that Theo and fighting didn't usually appear in the same sentence. He turned to his friends to convey the message, and they all hurriedly followed Y/N to the bar where Theo was still straddling the Gryffindor, as if Y/N had never left. In less than a second, Mattheo and Blaise had each of Theo's arms and were leading him out of the club, followed by Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy.

Once again, Y/N stood still, not quite sure how to proceed. One thing was clear though: she definitely didn't want to be near the idiot once he woke up, or when his friends showed up and looked for someone to blame. Y/N approached the bar again to inform her only other coworker, a girl from her house with whom she maintained a friendly relationship of greetings and pleasant smiles in the corridors, that she was going to make sure Theo was okay. The girl nodded, and without further ado, Y/N headed for the back exit of the Witch's Hour, reserved only for staff and, on this occasion, Theo's friends.

Outside in the dimly lit alley, she found the curly-haired boy sitting on an old wooden crate, with Pansy Parkinson crouched in front of him at a distance that, for some reason she couldn’t wrap around her finger, seemed too short to Y/N. Pansy seemed to be giving him a quiet scolding even though there was no one else there but the two of them and their other four friends, standing prudently apart. Theo had his gaze fixed on the ground, and although Y/N couldn't see his eyes because of his bangs, she noticed that his jaw was clenched once again.

Y/N approached cautiously the rest of the group. The smell of tobacco from Mattheo and Lorenzo's cigarettes wafted into her nose, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste. Blaise was the first to notice her presence.

"You didn't need to come out," he spoke in a calm tone, giving her a friendly smile. Y/N shrugged and returned the smile timidly.

"Blaise’s right," Lorenzo chimed in between drags of his cigarette. The contrast between his boyish face and the action itself shocked Y/N. "Pansy knows how to handle him."

Y/N made an affirmative sound before giving a proper response. Why had she come out, anyway? The answer briefly crossed her mind, but she couldn't even process it correctly, let alone speak it out loud. She decided to go for the most obvious excuse.

"I just wanted to make sure he's okay. After all, this happened because..."

"I don’t fucking care, Theodore!" Pansy's shout cut her off mid-sentence. The five turned their heads toward them. Pansy had stood up and was pointing an accusing finger at Theo. "You're supposed to be the smart one in the group. You shouldn't stoop to this crap."

"Ouch," Mattheo whimpered, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Don't play the victim, Riddle," Draco said, leaning against the alley wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "She hasn't said anything that isn't true."

"It's still pretty uncalled for on her part."

The conversation died there, unlike the ongoing one between Pansy and Theo. Y/N decided to wait until Theo's friends went back inside the club to talk to him alone about what had happened. She didn't feel up to doing it with all those strangers watching her from the other side of the alley, and there was no need to create such a scene.

The night was strangely cool for the time of year they were in, and considering how lightly she was dressed, Y/N began to shiver slightly. Thanks to Merlin, only a couple more minutes passed before Pansy concluded her scolding and headed back to the club. Y/N couldn't quite grasp the look she shot her as she walked by. It wasn't a look of complete disdain, at least not entirely, but it lacked the warm smile Blaise had given her earlier.

"Ignore her," Blaise reassured, that same smile still on his face. Shifting his attention back to Y/N, he noticed her shivering and promptly took off his green and black Quidditch team bomber jacket to offer it to her. "Here, take it. Give it back to Theo, and he'll return it to me."

Y/N barely had any time to refuse, but was grateful that Blaise didn't give her the chance to as she truly could use some warmth. She slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, which was considerably larger than her, and involuntarily breathed in its scent: expensive cologne with hints of mint and chocolate. Y/N couldn't help but find it somewhat addictive.

Once alone in the alley, Y/N walked over to where Theo was still seated, head down and hands tangled in his hair.

"Hey," she managed to say.

After a significantly long sigh, Theo raised his gaze to meet hers. With a tired smile, he greeted her in a hushed voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhhm," Theo barely made a sound in response, unsure of what else to say.

There was an air of something new between them, and neither was quite sure how to proceed. Y/N raised her hand with the intention of cupping his face to see for herself if what the boy had said was true, but her hand stopped midway. She attempted to disguise the motion by placing her hand on her chest.

"Thanks for standing up for me," Y/N finally said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"Anytime," Theo murmured, his voice slightly huskier than usual. In a sudden surge of courage he took Y/N's hand in his and tugged it gently, bringing her closer to him. He played with her fingers as he spoke again. "I wish you hadn't had to see that, though."

"Let's just say you could have settled for threatening him or something," she excused him, downplaying it with a giggle that made the boy smile. "But I'm still grateful you did it."

Silence once again settled between them, but this time it felt more comforting in a way. For a few moments, they simply locked eyes, trying to find in each other's eyes all that they were feeling themselves. Y/N was genuinely surprised to find herself in this situation with none other than Theodore Nott. There had always been a sort of mutual understanding between them, a silent complicity they didn't share with any of their clubmates. But Y/N had always assumed it was a simple friendship, that Theo considered her a part of the short list of people he tolerated, and that was it.

However, under the dim light of the moon that night, it felt like much more to her.

"I think we should go back inside," Y/N said in a hushed voice, fearing that if she raised her tone too much, the magical moment would come to an end.

"We should, yeah," Theo agreed, but despite his words, made no attempt to go back inside. If anything, he pulled Y/N's hand a bit more until she was practically between his legs.

With his free hand, Theo cautiously cradled her face, as if unsure if she would pull away. On the contrary, Y/N tilted her head letting it rest in his hand, unable to believe that all these displays of affection were coming from him.

"Can I ask you something?" Theo's voice caught her slightly off guard, but she nodded all the same.

"Sure."

"Never wear Zabini's jacket again," his words caught her with a bit of surprise, and her cheeks turned an even rosier shade.

"Why? Are you going to lend me yours or something?" she joked, pushing a couple of strands of hair from Theo's face, using the excuse to touch him again.

Theo's gaze darkened a bit, and for a moment, Y/N cursed herself for choosing those words. Maybe they weren't at that point yet, right? Perhaps they hadn't reached the teasing phase, and her comment might had made Theo close up. It wouldn't surprise her coming from him.

Y/N didn't dare breathe again until Theo spoke, eyes filled with certainty.

"Consider it done."

Her heart raced, and seeing the smile that transformed her face into one of unexpected joy, his did too.

#theo nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin boys #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #harry potter #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #harry potter imagine

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Awlful, awful thought: A guilt-wracked Vaggie, trying to stay as quiet as possible in Charlie's bed as she cries herself to sleep. Wishing that she could bring up the courage and confess her sins to her girlfriend, who obviously deserves SO much better...

you put that thought back where it came from or SO HELP ME-

ugh, listen, i can see this horrible progression where at first it's Vaggie hiding (and failing but she doesn't know it) that she cries, and then it's Vaggie lying (a tiny little lie she thinks) about WHY she cries

them as strangers / new tentative friends and it took SO MUCH WRANGLING for Charlie just to get the dumpster woman to stay over with her while getting used to life with one eye instead of wandering off back onto hell's streets like Vaggie was ready to, and then getting her to use a couch instead of the floor, then finally the giant bed with a pillow propped between them

this is already a miracle enough, this is already more than she's ever gotten any other sinner to accept (and thank her for? and share a smile with her over it????)

so when she hears Vaggie's breath hitch in the middle of the night like she's hurt Charlie starts sitting up with her instinct to jump RIGHT INTO HELPING like usual- but Vaggie goes dead quiet the moment she moves and Charlie freezes, the sudden cold thought Vaggie doesn't WANT her to hear. Vaggie's been letting Charlie closer but maybe her not wanting Charlie to hear this (yet?) is part of why she's been so reluctant to stop sleeping in random corners of the house, and what if she packs up (metaphorically speaking, technically she has nothing) and leaves if Charlie spooks her now? Would Charlie ever find her again?

that's the first time Charlie lies awake listening to Vaggie cry softly to herself for half the night, pretending she doesn't hear it

it's not the last.

Because Vaggie ends up staying, with Charlie SPECIFICALLY, and it's a different kind of friendship than Charlie's used to- it's not Vaggie tolerating her ideas or her dreams or her wild bursts into song, it's Vaggie troubleshooting her ideas and agreeing with (!) her dreams (though she isn't as hopeful about it) (that's more than anyone has done since Lilith left-) and it's even Vaggie enjoying her silliness, joining in on a song with her,

a sad little song about a grown woman missing being close with her parents because having a friend like this is making her homesick for everything else she used to have-

but Vaggie doesn't roll her eye at the poor princess of hell she holds Charlie's hand when Charlie tears up, she just seems to like being around Charlie? even for the pity parties??? (Charlie for the love of all therapy i a m begging you go to THERAPY)

Vaggie is clearly missing something too though, and cries about it less often now- or

(a thought to keep Charlie awake all night when it comes to her)

is better at crying about it quietly so Charlie really doesn't hear her

and it's too much for Charlie to risk losing but it's also why Charlie rolls over that night, casual, casual, and pretends to be asleep as her hand drapes over that invisible line to just brush Vaggie's arm, and why she goes on pretending to sleep as Vaggie flinches, tenses, then lets out a breath and doesn't pull away.

it's the only way for Charlie to get any sleep now- making sure Vaggie won't feel completely alone, even if she won't let Charlie be there for her (Yet)

it's a short road from that to waking up snuggled together, because Charlie's a cuddle bug and Vaggie's surprisingly smug about being cuddled (by her), so Charlie's frantic pillow wall of privacy instantly falls the next night to laughter and a pillow fight, and their game of betting if they'll wake up in each others arms again also doesn't last long (because they always do) (this is NOT like friendships Charlie is used to) and soon Vaggie is hauling them both out of bed on her good days while groggy Charlie clings to her like a very stubborn blanket and

there's not much room for hiding tears like this. the lie comes out not long after.

Vaggie's bad days are things Charlie happily makes way too many sticky notes about: collecting Tired Vaggie or Grumpy Vaggie or Bumped Into Furniture One Too Many Times Needs To Go Beat Up The Nearest Dumpster With Her Spear Vaggie, or Vaggie Gluing Herself To The Nearest High Spot While She Broods (her small smile means more when it doesn't come out until Charlie's spent an hour sitting up there with her, chatting and pointing out landmarks like hell isn't that bad and everything can be okay)

and Charlie has bad days too (tries not to) (feels guilty about having them when she ISN'T even alone anymore) but lately her worst start with dried tears on the collar of her pajama shirt and Vaggie sounding a little bit more hoarse than usual in the morning

so it's not some, sudden nighttime feelings ambush. It's not Charlie waking up in the night to Vaggie crying and suddenly having the courage to pull her a little bit closer

it's Charlie having a bad day, afterwards, and Vaggie finding her hunched up in bed. (their bed)

It's Vaggie slipping quietly (worriedly) out of the shadows with a soft hey and are you okay? and getting hit with yes- no- does Vaggie know she can get up out of bed whenever she wants at night? she can wake Charlie up and leave and that's completely fine, if she wants to be alone for a bit, and then come back for snuggles after- or they can sleep separate or-

maybe it's the first time Vaggie reaches up to cup Charlie's cheek and ground her spiraling, maybe it's the first real jolt of fear Vaggie's felt since being eye-level with a sword. maybe not, but it gets her asking Charlie what the fuck are you talking about?

and then it's the truth-

Charlie can't stop thinking about Vaggie hiding her tears for her sake. it's fine if Vaggie doesn't trust Charlie with them- (yet) (someday?) (it's amazing Vaggie has put trust in Charlie at ALL)- but she should at least feel able to CRY when she wants to.

-and it's the lie.

Vaggie does trust Charlie. a small tiny lie that's mostly truth-

(she trusts Charlie is a good person) (she's scared of what that means) (she hasn't been a good person) (she isn't being one now)- she tells Charlie she cries because she misses her wings and the scars hurt and she hides it because there's nothing to be done about it, if they were coming back (for her) they would've by now (she DOESN'T want them to come for her she WOULDN'T leave if they did, if they offered-) (would she?) but they aren't so, (it's been too long) why waste her and Charlie's time being sad about it?

(how can she even still be SAD about it-)

I could hear Charlie whispering back something along the lines of, time with with you is never wasted, not to me. And, I want to be there with you, like you are when I need you.

I won't say this is when they both went Oh or even when maybe someone leaned forward a little and someone else met them half way, they're the sort of couple where it could have happened a in a million different times and places and it doesn't really matter

but afterwards, when Vaggie cries at night she doesn't hide it anymore

(now she knows she can't) (she can't hurt Charlie like that)

so some nights she sobs quietly into Charlie's shoulder while Charlie rubs soothing circles into old scars and holds her tight and the sickness over the lie that turned out bigger than she thought almost makes it worse than crying alone

(almost) (not quite)

those are the nights where she dreams of a sword and torn off feathers. other nights, Vaggie shuts her one eye and refuses to let any tears fall

some nights she dreams of damning wings on her back and Charlie turning away from her

she can't face Charlie or her love on those nights.

so she doesn't let herself cry at all

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angst #headcanon ideas #....... #ANYWAY #ughhhh

[coldfanbou]

Confessing

Wonyoung fic time. I got nothing else to say; nothing rough going on here.

Length 2.3K

Wonyoung x Mreader

You sat in a cafe, waiting for your friend to show up. You bring your drink to your lips, taking a long drink; as you place it back down, you see Wonyoung take the seat across from you. "I'm sorry for being late. I know I'm the one that called you here, but I-I just had to make sure I was ready." She says. You notice the slight stutter she made. 

"Don't worry about it; I wasn't here that long." You reply. Wonyoung fiddles with her hands and keeps her head turned away from you. A deep-seated redness is coming across now. "Are you alright?" You ask while putting your hand on her forehead.

"I-I'm fine; I just need some water. I walked here really quickly." She says, finally looking at you. A waitress comes quickly afterward, taking her order. While you're waiting, you notice Wonyoung violently shaking her head. "So, are you ready for today?" She asks after as if she hadn't just done that. 

"Yeah, it's been a while since we've gone out. Did you have anything planned? You kept everything secret from me.

Wonyoung nods and pulls out two tickets. "I got us these. They're for the carnival. I thought it would be nice to go." Wonyoung rubs her arms as she looks away from you again. Her drink arrives, and the two of you continue to talk until you're ready to go to the carnival. 

At the carnival, Wonyoung gives the tickets to the man at the entrance, and you both walk through the large hallway leading to the carnival proper. The colorful lights in the hall paint the area. You glance at Wonyoung as she smiles with excitement. Coming out of the hall, you both notice the giant Ferris wheel in the back. "Do you want to ride it?" You ask Wonyoung. 

She shakes her head, "Maybe later. Let's just walk around for now." You look at the many stalls; some are games, others are food, and a couple sells clothes, among other items. Wonyoung doesn't seem very interested in most of the games until she happens upon a fishing one. A simple game where you're handed a fishing rod and have to try to get the lure into a fish's mouth. The robotic fish pop up and bite the air before opening their mouths and sinking.  They were different colors, indicating a specific prize type that you would get. You watch Wonyoung drift toward the stall; you follow her closely, wading through the crowd. 

"Would you like a try? The first one is free." The carny operating the stand says. Wonyoung nods; he hands her a fishing pole and explains the rules. Wonyoung's attempt could have gone better, as her lure lands between the fishes. She lets out a disappointed sigh. You pay the man for a few more tries.

"What prize do you want?" You whisper to Wonyoung. She points toward a large bread plush, a red tag. You try to stifle a laugh seeing that of all her options; she'd want a piece of bread. She whines at you for laughing, slapping your arm. You grab the fishing pole and throw it forward to gauge how it'll fly. You land in between the fishes, much like Wonyoung's attempt. Noticing that the lure was lighter than expected, you give it less power and narrowly miss the red fish. 

Wonyoung jumps in the air, "You nearly had it!" She yells as she smacks your arm. Visibly excited, Wonyoung starts pointing out where it might be easier. The red fishes are spread evenly except for the far left corner, where four red fishes sit beside each other. You take Wonyoung's advice and launch the lure into the far corner, smacking the fish. It had popped up and shut its mouth right before the lure got to it. Wonyoung squats down suddenly, holding onto the edge of the stall. She pokes her head over the edge, observing as you try again. You wait for the fish to start coming down to throw the lure. In what seems like a miracle, your toss was short and bounced off a closer fish into the mouth of a red fish just as it came up to bite. Wonyoung jumps up and screams before tossing herself at you. She holds you tightly as you celebrate your victory. "You did it!" She buries her head in your chest as she continues to hug you. The man gives you the bread plush and hands it to you. 

"Your girlfriend must really like bread." He says with a laugh. Wonyoung immediately pulls away from you, turning bright red. You smile at her and hand her the bread. She immediately uses it to cover her face. You thank the man before walking away from the stall, telling him to give your other plays to someone else. 

Wonyoung holds the bread to her chest. "Thank you," she says quietly. You pat her head.

"It’s no problem. I'm glad you like it." The two of you continued to walk around the carnival, eating food and getting on an occasional ride. As evening comes, you both get in line for the Ferris wheel. Once the ride begins, you look at the city skyline from the top of the Ferris wheel. Wonyoung looks at the floor nearly the entire time. "What's wrong Wonyoung?" You ask. She grips the edges of her skirt, gulping before she opens her mouth.

"Um… t-there's something I want to tell you." Wonyoung tries to meet your gaze but can't hold it. She puts up her bread plush as a barrier between you. "I-I…I like you." 

"I like you too." 

"N-no, I mean that I-I love you. As more than a friend." Wonyoung's grip on the plush tightens as she peers over it. "We've been friends since we were kids, but I've loved you for a long time. I-I wanted to…." She pauses for a moment. "I wanted to confess to you today. I wanted to do it here." 

"You just did." You respond.

"N-no, but it's not the same. I don't want to be hiding behind this." She says, motioning toward the plush. "I wanted to have you really look at me."

You reach out and forcefully take the plush from her. "Go ahead then." 

Wonyoung places her hands on her lap and looks down before collecting herself. She shakes slightly as she looks at you. "I've loved you for a really long time, but you were always out of reach. S-sometimes, I wanted to tell you, but you would be dating someone else. I-I want to be with you. S-so w-would y-y-you…" She tries to take a breath, and you see her struggling. 

You kneel in front of her and take her hands in your own. "It’s okay." You say, reassuring her.

"Would you be my boyfriend?" She asks. Wonyoung has her eyes closed tightly as if awaiting rejection.

"I'd love to."

She hesitantly opens her eyes. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Wonyoung, I've loved you for a long time, too, but you never showed any interest in me, so I thought maybe I should date others to get you off my mind. Hearing you say that, though, makes me really happy." Wonyoung nearly pushes you onto the floor as she hugs you with all her strength. She continues to spout on and on about how she loves you. She can't help but cry as you accept her love. Wonyoung refuses to let you go as you try to return to your seat. The Ferris wheel ends soon, and Wonyoung rushes to dry her tears before you both leave the carriage. The day becomes night, and it comes time to go home. You both get in your car as you ready yourself to drop her off. "I guess I'll drop you off at home."

"Can we- can I sleep with you tonight?" She asks shyly.

"What?" You say, slightly stunned at her words.

"I want to sleep with you." She replies with her words trailing off at the end. "I've waited a long time, and I want to sleep with you," Wonyoung says, mustering her courage. 

"Alright, we'll sleep together. It'll be our first night as a couple." Wonyoung smiles all the way home. The car ride was slightly filled with sexual tension. You hadn't expected Wonyoung to be so proactive as to say she wanted to sleep with you. You also hadn't fully registered what she wanted when you agreed. You couldn't say anything to her at this point and awkwardly drove the entire way home. When you arrived, you both sat in the car for a minute, unable to move.

Eventually, you were able to step out of the car. Wonyoung quickly followed.  You both wasted no time as you made your way to your bedroom. "S-so, I guess we should take our clothes off." 

"Y-yes, we should," Wonyoung responded with the same nervous voice. You both looked away from the other as you stripped down. "I-I can turn around when you do."

"Okay, we'll turn around on three. One, two, three!" You both turn around, covering yourself. "W-we should probably take our hands away." Wonyoung shyly nods, and you both slowly put your hands to the side. Your eyes make their way down Wonyoung's body. You get caught up at her legs, though, long, toned, and thick; you marvel at them. You slowly get hard as you think about Wonyoung's body. Wonyoung blushes as she watches your cock rise to full mast. 

She steps forward, "Can…can I touch it?" You nod. She seems mesmerized by it as her hand reaches out and grasps your cock. You moan as she touches it. A smile crosses Wonyoung's face; she's happy she can make you feel good. Wonyoung starts to stroke your cock; without any prior experience, she's doing a good job. Her pace is anything but consistent, though, as she sometimes goes from incredibly slow to very quick. You run your hands around her stomach before taking a breast in each hand. Your palms squeeze her soft flesh, drawing a moan from her. Wonyoung's tits were topped with tiny pink nipples; her areola wasn't much bigger. Taking her nipple between your forefinger and thumb, you pinch her nipples while massaging her breasts. You both moan from the pleasure you're experiencing. You lean down slightly, kissing Wonyoung. She returns the kiss with enthusiasm, not wanting it to end. While you're kissing her, her hands start to move quickly. Her palm rubs the head of your cock as you both moan into the kiss. 

You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and your hips bucking automatically. Wonyoung feels your cock throbbing and sudden wetness as precum covers her hand. Your precum allows her to stroke your cock at a faster pace. "Wonyoung, I'm going to cum." You say to warn her. She continues to stroke your cock  at a quick pace until you cum in her hand. The warm liquid spurts onto her forearm and covers her hand. While you recover, Wonyoung stares at her cum-covered hand, mesmerized by it, before putting up to her mouth and licking it. The salty taste fills her mouth as she licks her hand clean. The sight makes you hard again. "Should we continue?" You ask her.

Wonyoung climbs onto your bed and lays on her back. Her hands go down to her shaven slit, and she spreads her lips for you. Her pink pussy is there for you to take in. "Please," she says, almost like she's pleading with you to do it. "I want you." She says quietly. You climb over her and align yourself with her. 

"Are you ready?" You ask before you do the deed. Wonyoung gives you a nod. You press against her entrance and push past her lips. You hear her gasp as you thrust inside her. You plant a kiss on Wonyoung's lips; her arms wrap around you as she keeps you there. Her walls caress your cock as you push deeper inside her.  Wonyoung moans into the kiss as you start to move inside her. Your hands grip her legs as you thrust into her. "Wonyoung, you're so tight." You moan into her ear as you thrust. Wonyoung's walls try to keep you inside her, clamping down on your cock. Her moans grow louder at your comments.

"You're so big," she groans. You're pounding her into the bed as you revel in the pleasure. Her legs keep you in place as you split her apart with every thrust. Wonyoung closes her eyes and moans; you watch the beauty before you enjoy herself as sweat begins to cover her body. Her hair becomes more of a mess with every thrust. You cup her cheek, and she opens her eyes; she meets your gaze.

"You're the most beautiful person in the world, Wonyoung. I love you." You groan as the pleasure starts to become too much. 

Wonyoung pushes her head up to kiss you. "I love you too." Wonyoung whines as she feels her climax coming. Her walls tighten around you as you continue to thrust. 

"I'm going to cum, Wonyoung. Let me go." 

"No, I want you to cum inside me. Please." You relent and slam your cock into Wonyoung again. You both shout as you reach your orgasm. Your semen fills Wonyoung. Her leg’s grip on you doesn't loosen; she keeps you in place as her cunt milks you for all of your cum. You watch Wonyoung's face drift into a pure orgasmic state as she feels you fill her womb with cum. After a few minutes, her legs finally release their hold over you. You stay buried inside her for a little longer before pulling out of her. You roll over onto your back, and Wonyoung moves to place her head on your chest. Cum leaks from her pussy onto her thighs as she uses her fingertip to trace something on your chest.

You put your arm around her head and kiss her forehead. "I love you," she says, her eyes trying to remain open as she slowly drifts off to sleep.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop smut #m reader #male reader

[itsss4t4n]

Hi!! Could I get some harry hook x male!reader where reader is the eldest child of Anna and Kristoff please? Also maybe reader looks just like his mum but acts like his dad? Thanks and sorry if it's too specific fjdjdjvjs

Always - Harry Hook x male!reader

a/n: I honestly think that reader personaliy is more like anna han kristoff. somehow i really struggled wih that. i lowkey hate this but i still hope you enjoy his <3

warnings: no use of y/n, making out, small fight/angst, ew emotions, I love some good drama, i hate this tbh, not proofread

When Mal decided to open the barrier forever, it was cerainly an adjusment for everyone.

The Vks that came over to auradon were enrolled into auradon prep and all assigned an auradon student to help them settle in and answer any questions they might have.

You weren't the biggest fan of that arrangementt. Not because you didnt like or trust the vks, you were actually quite close with all of the cour four. You just werent a big people person. So having to share your dorm with someone you dont know and most likely having them at your side 24/7? Not ideal for you.

Especially when you heard who you were going to be paired with. 

But Mal had basically begged you to help. 

"Please. I know you dont like this but he is kind of difficult and i know that you could handle him. I dont know anyone else that could."

So you reluctantly agreed.

Mal was right. Harry Hook was certainly difficult. He was really stuck in ways and refused to change. He refused to follow any rules, he was mean and he hated school. And the worst thing? He was stupidly hot.

Now, you hated school just as much, and you did skip a few lessons here and there but you had respect for your teachers and your peers. And you knew that unfortunately school was important for your future. 

Usually you couldnt care less if other people got on trouble but harry was your responsibility now, so everytime he got into trouble, you were getting dragged into it. And you hated it.

So thats how you ended up in fairy godmothers office for the 7th time that week (it was thursday) sitting next to Harry, who just looked bored while you were about to beat him up.

This has been happeneing for almost 3 months at this point.

"This can not keep going on. Harry If you cannot follow the rules and integrate yourself into Auradon then we might be forced to take stronger action." 

Back in your dorm Harry threw himself onto his bed.

"Well that a tad overdramatic aye?"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. 

"HARRY! THIS IS NOT A GAME! YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE SIMPLY FOR THE SAKE OF IT AND YOU HURT OTHERS. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU ARE BASICALLY A FEW OFFENSES AWAY FROM EXPULSION?! AND IF THAT HAPPENS YOU BASICALLY HAVE NO CHANCE ANYMORE TO DO ANYTHING! NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR AS WELL. JUST THINK ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!"

Without looking at him you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

The rest of your day was spend ranting to Mal and Evie about Harry.  Mal hat texted Uma during your rant, telling her to speak with Harry. He would probably listen to her. She was his best friend after all.

You dreaded going to bed that night. Just being in the same room with him.

Uma left your Room just before you arrived, so when you entered Harry was sitting on his bed, a conflicted expression on his face. 

You decided to ignore him, just grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading to the bathroom to change for bed.

When you exited the beathroom agin harry had also changed into sweatpants. GREY sweatpants.

Fuck. Was he trying to kill you?

His head perked up at the sound of the bathroom door. 

"Hey..."

You looked over at him.

"What Hook?"

He looked a little conflicted still, which confused you. Why the sudden change in mood?

"Look... I'm nae good at this but- fuck..." He sighed exxasperated. "I wanted to apologize."

You head snapped to him again In surprise.

"What?"

"I acted like a total dickhead." He started ranting, trying to get it all outbefore he mentally talked himself out of it. " I didnt care how I might hurt ya. And I don't even have a good reason for that. I was just scared. I was scared of being vulnerable. All I have ever known was the Isle. I am used to hiding myself behind a Tough outside and I was scared to change from that."

Harry quickly wiped his eyes of the tears swimming in them, hoping you wouldnt notice. But you did.

You were shocked by his sudden and surprisingly honest outburst. For a few very long seconds you just stared at each other.

"Harry...." You took a slow step towards him. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how hard this would be. And I know it will be difficult, but i promise you that from now on you wont have to hide anymore. You're safe here." 

Now, standing right before harry, you layed your hand on his shoulder. Harrys eyes met yours, once again swimming with tears but a small smile gacing his lips.

"Thank ye."

You reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from his eye, your hand resting on harrys cheek, his head leaning into your touch.

You noticed how close you two had gotten. Your eyes flickering from harrys eyes to his lips for a split second.

"Harry?" Your noses brushed against each other ever so slightly.

"Yea?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"I really hope I'm not reading this wrong," You voice matched his. "but can I kiss you?"

Harry was silent, and for a few excruciating second you truly thought you were wrong. Harry was into guys, you knew that much. He didnt hide that part about himself. But did he like you?

"Yes please." 

A small sigh of relief left your mouth as you leaned in, your lips moving against his. Harrys hands moved to your hips, gripping at the exposed skin, thanks to your lack of shirt. In turn your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers gripping onto his hair.

When you parted for air, you kept your eyes closed, your foreheads leaning against each other. 

For a few seconds all you could hear was you heavy breathing and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears, before Harry leaned in and kissed you again. His hands pulling you flush against his bare chest by your hips.

Once again you pulled back, this time a little more, looking into each others eyes.

"Thank ye, darlin"

"Always."

#writing #reader insert #fanfic #descendants x reader #fluff #harry hook x reader #male reader #harry hook x male reader #harry hook #descendants x male reader

[sunfyresrider]

You’re the best part of me

Aegon II Targaryen X Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The beginning of your secret relationship with Aegon proved why you need to stay with him for the rest of your life. TW: forbidden relationship, daddy kink, smut, watersports, virgin!reader, Aegon isn’t the best influence but he can show you a good time. AN: Too lazy to proof read or edit. Part one of two, best smut I’ve ever produced if I say so myself. May or may not finish tomorrow depending on if my inspiration to write returns.

Most believed being a princess was filled with days of excitement and adventures no one else could comprehend. They had choices and power unlike anyone else who shared their gender. Except, those who assumed that were all tragically incorrect. Being a princess meant you rarely left your castle, you must obey everything others tell you, you had no faculty since you lacked a cock.

It was dreadfully boring and each hour seemed to stretch on for days. However as you aged you gained one unlikely companion that made your days seem less droll. Aegon, your uncle, was not as bad as he may appear to others. Yes, he drank a bit much and scoffed at his duties more than others but he, like you, was still young.

He was the only one who joyfully kept you entertained and filled your life with some adventure. Aegon played games with you, let you join in on pranks, took you to explore the city streets and actively helped you escape septa lessons. He was by far your favorite person and truthfully your only friend.

It was easy to speak to him, as if he were the only one who truly understood your feelings. At this point he probably knew everything about you and how your mind worked exactly. It was not one sided affection, you knew as much about him.

Tonight was one of the rare times you both decided to escape the keep together. Aegon had adorned you with the shabbiest clothing he could find and a little hate to hide your identity. Everyone in Flea Bottom knew him by now so there was little point in disguising himself.

Your destination? The one place Aegon swore to never allow you to go to. You’ve never seen a brothel before and you would be lying if it didn’t pique your interest. Besides, Aegon was the only one you trusted enough to take you anywhere. You quickly undid the bundle of clothing gifted to you, "Wait outside while I dress." He cocked an eyebrow, "Are you being shy, Princess?"

"Aegon,” You warned him. He put his hands up in mock surrender and disappeared into the dark corridor of Maegor's tunnels. You quickly stripped your dress away, discarding it onto the floor. Cautiously, you tiptoed into the tunnels, holding onto the walls to feel your way in the darkness.

You called out to Aegon, who did not reply. It became increasingly eerie the farther you walked inside, especially since most of the torches were blown out and the walls were covered in cobwebs. You creeped forward, slipping when the wall opened up to another hallway. "Boo!"

You squealed, backing hard into the right wall. The sounds of Aegon’s chuckles echoed within the vast hallways. "You aren't funny!" He snatched your hand and began the descent to Fleabottom, basking in your annoyance. The specific exit you used led to Fleabottom, or at least close to it. It was an alleyway filled with muck and excrement but was the best place to go when someone doesn’t want to get caught.

Luckily, the stench of cow shit and rotting waste slowly dissipated as you got close to the main busting streets within the city. As always, the streets were filled to the brim with people from all walks of life. Your favorites were always the citizens from Tyrosh, with painted hair and unusual hats dancing in the street.

Aegon wrapped an arm around your shoulder in a protective manner, pulling you into him. You attempted to work yourself out but his grip was insatiably tight. "Uh uh, no running away in this area. Men will descend upon you like moths to a flame if I let go." You gave up on trying to escape, besides his body provided much needed warmth.

As the journey continued the music rang louder in their ears. The kind only drunken bards would play in the late hours. You began humming along to the tune, your feet becoming jittery with the urge to move. Aegon loathed dancing and you knew it, but he would never say no to you. "I want to dance!"

He shouted back over the noise, "I can't dance!" You shoved his body away from you, grasping his hands. "That wasn't a request, Twas’ a demand!" You spun him in a circle, twirling every so often. His face turned a bright shade of red, his feet tripping over themselves. The sounds of your laughter reverberating in his ears.

Aegon could watch you like this forever, red faced, blinding smile, and not a singular care in the world. It was a minuscule moment in the grand scheme of things but it would be one that never left his head. Seeing you enjoy the life bestowed on you so easily, It was the only thing he looked forward to anymore.

However, there were other things that would bring him enjoyment tonight. Acts that would never leave his brain even in his dreams. So, he entertained you with several more songs. Let you drag him as you prance around the cobbled square. Allowed you to step on his toes and nearly run into other couples so long as you remained happy.

But as your breath became heavy, and your steps began to slow. When you began to lean into him more than what was deemed appropriate and your excitement deemed. Aegon decided it was time to take your leave.

He tugged you closer to him, leaning to cup your ears. "I think it's time we get out of here,” he shouted into your ear, voice barely audible over the instruments. "I'll follow your lead, my Prince"

The journey to the other side of town was short, however the people around you became more conspicuous the farther you went. The smallfolk looked more rugged and the number of men increased indefinitely. All the women were inside windows, hanging out and hollering incoherent sentences.

This was the beginning of the Street of Silk, and the end of your night. The women wore less clothing and their bodies were far bustier than that of regular peasants. Dare you say they were becoming prettier the farther in you traveled.

Aegon’s grip was unbelievably tight, and his eyes rarely roamed anywhere but you. You failed to understand previously why he adorned you with boys clothes, now you were getting a hint. Anyone who remotely resembled a girl was immediately glared at like they were prey. You hoped the place you were going was far less… uneasy feeling.

The building with the red door was on the far end of the street of silk, the patrons became fewer and fewer the closer you approached it. Seemingly, he took you to the most private place on the entire road. Aegon’s grip lessened as he knocked on the door thrice.

An older woman, with breasts falling out of her chemise opened the door. Her eyes scanned over you both, a curious look plastered across her face. “One room in the back," he deadpanned. Aegon tossed her a bag of coins, overpaying her by the look on her face. “Of course, my prince…” She paused, glancing over you twice more. “…And princess.”

The inside was decorated almost elegantly, the women wore more clothing made out of expensive silks, dyed with colors from Tyrosh. It was far more clean than what you assumed a whore house to be, “What is this?” Aegon appeared aloof to his surroundings, “The most expensive brothel you’ll ever enter, reserved for those who want to avoid prying eyes and fuck virgins instead of experienced whores.”

Your face twisted in disgust, “No need to be so crude.” The woman with black hair stopped at a room at the end of one of the vast hallways, dropping the key into Aegon’s hand before taking her leave. A few of the other workers glanced by as they walked past you, your ears ringing with the subtle noises coming from the various rooms around you. “I didn’t mean to be crude, it’s just the truth. Would rather take you here than a place covered in filth.”

Aegon was partially lying, you probably wouldn’t have minded witnessing it all but it would be a cold day in the seven hells when another man was allowed to gaze upon your nude form. “How thoughtful of you,” the door opened to a room illuminated gently by candles. The windows were covered with red silks and the bed appeared completely unused. It almost looked comfortable.

You walked around the room,carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. You gently bounced on it once, testing for stability. Aegon did not wait, he locked the door and pulled the blinds closed, plunging the room in a darkness only the few candles could help.

You felt Aegon kneel in front of you, a small piece of fabric sliding against your legs. His head began to rise up, resting against your thigh. You shuddered, "What are you doing, Aegon?" He stared up at you with those beautiful large blue eyes. "Waiting for permission, princess.”

Your face began to heat up, you shifted in your seat, trying to hide the growing arousal in your pants. You stuttered over your words, “I- I think I am ready." Aegon knelt upwards, sliding his hands up your body to cup your face. Your breathing quickened as you felt him move closer and closer, until he pressed a kiss against your lips.

Your eyes slowly closed, awkwardly you tried to move your lips with his, following his movements closely. Aegon smiled against your lips, his hand sliding down your body, down your stomach, until he reached the front of your breeches. “Don’t be nervous,” he hummed in a seductive tone you didn’t believe he possessed. “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Aegon’s hand slid down to your breeches, slowly unlacing the strings that held them together. He slid them off you with haste, exposing your thighs to the cool air. Aegon licked his lips, his hands sliding against your silky soft skin and thumb grazing over your cunt, sending jolts through your body.

His finger dipped down, sliding along your folds, spreading them as he did. A soft groan rumbled in his throat, "So wet for me already." Aegon’s head dipped down, the sensation of his lips against your core making you squeal.

He began to nip at you gently, using his tongue to trail your slit and collect all your juices on his tongue. He groaned into you, “You taste so sweet, Princess." Aegon began to suck on you gently, using his tongue to part your folds.

You gasped, feeling his fingers rub at your entrance. Your thighs clenched around his head, a new feeling building inside you. “A-Aegon I need to pee,” you squeaked. He dropped a finger inside you, pressing against the soft spongy spot inside you. “Just wait, promise,” he murmured into you.

His tongue lapped against you more fervently, his fingers pressed inside you with ease. "A-Ah, Aegon-" He added an another finger , curling his fingers so they hit your sweet spot perfectly. "That's it, princess,” he groaned, the vibrations from his baritone voice sending shockwaves through you.

Your eyes screwed shut as your body became tense, his fingers working inside you. Your hips twitched, unable to find a rhythm with him as the pleasure built within you. His tongue moved circles around your bud, nibbling at it every so often. The strange feeling inside you began to burst, your legs trembled and your arms struggled to support you. You truly believed you had to pee, "Aegon I-," you cried out, your thighs clamped down on his head.

Aegon’s tongue moved fervently, fingering you with more ferocity. You felt yourself tighten around him, his name tumbled from your lips over and over again as he kept up his pace. His fingers purposely hitting a certain spot repeatedly, the coil inside your core began to unwind. As your orgasm began to crash down over you, your bladder released itself accidentally.

This didn’t remotely phase him in the slightest. Aegon kept his mouth pressed to you, feeling your juices drench his hand. Murmuring praises, “Such a messy girl… Keep cumming for me. Fuck that’s so fucking hot.” Aegon did not let you move an inch, his fingers working you like a puppet as the pleasure sent you into a frenzy.

You collapsed onto the bed, heaving as your heart steadied itself. You were unable to see him through the haze but you could feel him smile against your cunt, kissing your thighs and moving towards you. Aegon crawled on top of you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

His hands found their way under your tunic, lifting it over your head. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he muttered, his lips suckling at your neck. He shifted above you, rolling his hips against yours in a seductive manner. You gasped, feeling his cock press against you.

His lips traveled down to your breasts, teasing the tender flesh with his tongue. Aegon pressed a kiss to your nipple, his hips rolling again. You mewled softly, unable to fight back any moans that escaped you. His mouth sucked on your nipple, nipping it lightly with his teeth.

“Aegon,” you whimpered, growing impatient. He pulled back, cupping your face so you looked directly into his eyes. "Needy for my cock too, Princess?" You nodded lazily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. He smirked at you, tugging his cock free with his left hand.

His length pressed against your cunt, your breathing became ragged as you stared up at him. Aegon slid his cock along your slit, you could feel the precum dripping from his tip onto you. He continued to tease you, moving it up and down, pressing against you. You bit your lip, whining softly, "Please, Aegon."

"That's not my name," he pressed against you harder, his tip pushing into you. You arched your back, trying to coax him further inside you. “M-My Prince, please,” you whimpered. Aegon clicked his teeth together, teasing your entrance but refusing to go further. “Try again, little girl.” You flushed at the pet name, a mix of arousal and embarrassment flooding your system. You looked up at him, eyes pleading, "Please, Daddy, I want you to fuck me."

“That’s my good girl,” his hips slowly moved forward, his cock slowly stretching you out. Your mouth fell open, eyes screwed shut. You whimpered as he pushed deeper inside you, filling your cunt entirely. Aegon paused, "Am I hurting you? I’ll be gentle." You shook your head, “p-please keep going, daddy.”

You felt him shift, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. His hips moved backwards before sliding back in, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you. Aegon's thrusts were gentle at first, slow and calculated. "Gods you're tight," he growled in your ear. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him close.

“Beg for it,” he growled into your ear. You moaned softly, not entirely sure what he meant. You pressed your lips against his shoulder, kissing it softly. Aegon stopped moving, his breathing heavy, "Don't play dumb. Beg for me to fuck you harder, Princess." You felt your face heat up at the thought.

"P-Please," you mewled, "Fuck me, Daddy, I want you to fuck me harder." Aegon let out a shaky breath, pulling his hips back so only his tip remained inside you. His hands grabbed your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin. "Better," he huffed, slamming inside you. You let out a yelp, his pace increasing with every thrust.

Aegon pinned your hands behind your head, holding you in place with his right. "Who does your cunt belong to, Princess?" His free hand began toying with your clit, rubbing it in small circles. Your moans and whines increased in volume, "Daddy! I-it belongs to daddy!"

"Louder," his hand was moving faster now, rubbing your bud relentlessly. You couldn't see through the blur of tears in your eyes, his hips slapping against you loudly. "Daddy! My cunt belongs to daddy," you cried out, your voice echoing in the small room. “That’s my perfect little girl,” he slurred.

Your walls began to flutter around him, feeling a pressure begin to build in your core. You squeezed your thighs together, pulling at Aegon. His breath became shaky, his eyes temporarily rolling into his head. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you princess? Cum on my cock like a good little girl, hmm?," he growled into your ear.

Your hands grasped for his, squeezing tightly as the coil began to snap within you. "A-Ah, Daddy-" Your back arched, eyes squeezing shut as the pressure built inside you, "Yes, yes, yes," Aegon's moans were becoming more frequent, his face glistening with sweat. Your legs twitched around him, your walls clamping down around his cock.

"Fuck," he hissed, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. “D-Da- Aegon,” you moaned loudly as a different kind of pleasure washed over you. Your cunt began to spasm around him, soaking his cock with your juices. “Oh gods,” he moaned loudly, his head tilting backwards. You could feel his cock twitch inside you as he began to fill you with his seed. His hips jerked erratically, his fingers squeezing your hands tightly.

Aegon collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. You could feel his heart racing, a mixture of excitement and satisfaction coursing through you. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “I love you," he murmured into your ear.

You paused for the first time tonight, a blush quickly coating your cheeks. You had never expected to hear those words from him, ignoring the fact you just coupled mere moments ago. Your fingers unconsciously combed through hair, pulling him closer to you. "I love you too,” you spoke softly.

He had been with you since the beginning and you never grew tired of him. He was the only one you wished to spend time with, to experience things with, and to sleep with. You smiled sleepily, the realization coming over you, "I love you too."

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon targaryen #aegon fic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon smut #hotd fic

[roosterforme]

Boys Night In | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The boys make Bradley self conscious about you, and you give them a formal dressing down.

Warnings: Fluff and angst and more fluff, swears and adult banter

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You?

Check my masterlist! Banner by @mak-32

Bradley hated asking you to make yourself scarce for the night, right after you'd moved in with him no less. You didn't seem to mind though, rather you seemed really excited to go out dancing with Phoenix. 

You walked out of the bedroom just as Hangman, Coyote and Bob arrived, and Bradley took a moment to ogle you in your skin tight black dress paired with your beat up high tops. "Jesus, you look hot."

You just chuckled at him. "Even with these shoes? I don't want my feet to hurt, so I figured, who cares right?"

Bradley just shook his head as he let the guys inside. "Don't even think about talking to any other boys tonight. Phoenix is allowed to, but not you," he joked. 

You laughed and kissed his cheek, greeting everyone as they arrived. Bradley noticed Bob blush as you hugged him briefly, and as many times as he had told Hangman not to look at you, he was still looking at you. Specifically your ass. Bradley was going to need to have another conversation. 

And then he had to listen to Coyote flirting with you as well. "Oh, you're going out dancing? Rooster lets you go out dressed like that? You know, I think I'll skip the beers and poker game and join you instead," he told you, linking your arm through his elbow.

As Fanboy and Payback arrived, the flirtatious banter just escalated. Bradley didn't really mind. He did realize you were objectively very pretty, and you were a good sport about the teasing. Plus, they were really trying to get a rise out of Rooster, not you. So he decided not to react at all.

"Have fun, Baby Girl," he told you, planting a lingering kiss on your lips before you waved and left for the evening. 

Fanboy hooted with laughter. "Oh man, you're so lucky, Rooster."

Bradley just smirked and led everyone to the brand new dining room table to play cards while Hangman pulled a bunch of beers from the fridge. He knew what the other guys must be thinking, but he was happy they never said it out loud.

Until they did.

After a few games of poker and a case and a half of beer, the guys all stood to stretch and have some snacks. "These cookies are amazing," Payback remarked, eating a stack of three of the chocolate chip cookies you had made for them to enjoy. "Did Y/N make them?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley confirmed while he finished his beer. "She bakes and cooks all the time. I've gained so much weight in the last three months, it's ridiculous," he said, patting his still fairly muscular abdomen. 

Hangman just shook his head. "I still can't believe you got her to move in with you, man. Nice work."

"You still sore she turned you down?" Bradley asked with a grin.

"Nah. She's better off with you. Don't get me wrong, she's hot, but I would have probably just tried to hit it and move on, if I'm being honest," Hangman told him. The look in Bradley's eyes must have spurred him on to add, "Which is why it's great that you and she are together, man! She's awesome! Everyone likes her a lot!"

Bob, who was clearly drunk, decided to chime in next. “I’m just surprised you bought the house and had her move in this quickly, Rooster. Usually you’re quick to get a girl to leave after she's been in your bed once."

All five guys exploded in laughter around Rooster. Fuck, he knew he had a reputation, but he wasn't like that anymore. At all. There was only you now.

"Very funny," he muttered, setting down his fresh beer. He had a tight feeling in his stomach that was making him uncomfortable. If this is how his friends felt about him, that was pretty telling. God, was it embarrassing for you to be with him? He couldn't stand that thought in his head, but he could tell it was already taking up residence there. 

"I can't believe she settled for you, bro. But good on you," Coyote told him.

"I never thought we would see the day when you would retire from sleeping around," said Fanboy, shaking his head. "But she's a real sweetheart, so you made a good choice. She's definitely a dime. It's honestly crazy how you pulled this off." Fanboy clapped him on the back, but Bradley just stood there for a few extra beats as everyone else returned to the poker table. 

------------------------------------

Even with the sneakers on, your feet were aching when you arrived home just after midnight. Phoenix had you dancing to every single song the DJ played, and you'd had so much fun with her. 

As you stepped onto the porch, you could hear the boys inside. It sounded like a mini frat party was happening. You unlocked the door and let yourself in, only to find Coyote was already passed out on the couch. Bob was for some reason sitting on the kitchen floor holding a plate of cookies. Rooster, Hangman, Payback and Fanboy were playing a video game really loudly. Every single one of them looked slightly drunk. 

"Having fun?" you asked the room at large.

A chorus of yeses greeted your ears, and Rooster immediately dropped his game controller to give you a hug and sloppy kiss on your cheek.

"Rooster! We're playing melee, dude!" complained Fanboy, slurring his words a bit. "We're gonna lose if you don't come back!"

"Play three player for a minute," Bradley told them as he followed you through the living room like a puppy. He watched you stop to pat Bob gently on the head, earning you a look of adoration from the WSO.

"You okay, Bob? Need anything?" you asked him sweetly.

"No, Y/N, I'm fine," Bob told you, his eyes a little glassy. "Rooster was right about you, ya know?"

You crouched down next to Bob to hear him better over the noise the others were making. "Oh yeah? Rooster was right about what?"

You turned to look up at your boyfriend. He'd clearly overindulged in drinking tonight, and he had a miserable, sad look on his face. He was alternating between reaching his hands out toward you and then tucking them into his jeans pockets.

"He stopped sleeping with anything with tits when he met you. Good decision," Bob slurred, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

"Oh," was all you managed to say as you withdrew your hand and stood to face Bradley. "That was a strange thing to say," you remarked, trying to lighten the tense look on Bradley's face. 

Bradley swayed a bit on his feet and just grunted in response. When you reached for him, he started walking toward your bedroom.

"What's wrong, Roo?" you asked, following him in.

He looked dejected, running his hand up and down the back of his neck. "Is it embarrassing for you? Being with me?" 

"Bradley? What are you talking about?" you asked, reaching for his hand. He wouldn't look you in the eye, no matter what you did. 

"I'm talking about us," he murmured, staring at the wall above your head. 

You pulled on his hands until he finally met your eyes. "I don't understand what you mean, Bradley."

"I need to know if I embarrass you. Apparently I'm just a retired manwhore, Y/N. That's how they all see me. That's how everybody sees me."

Your eyes went wide, gaping at him as you searched his face. "Roo, nobody sees you that way!" you told him, pulling him down to sit on the foot of the bed next to you. 

"The guys all do. They are genuinely shocked you're with me."

You cracked your knuckles and pulled your shoes off, tossing them into the corner. "They told you that tonight? They literally called you a 'retired manwhore'?"

Bradley just looked at you, misery on his face. "You're too good for me, Sweetheart. You could do a lot better than dating me."

You pushed his hair off of his forehead and caressed his cheek, and Bradley leaned into your touch. "Oh, Roo," you whispered before kissing his lips softly. "Nobody gets to talk to you like that when I'm around." You placed one more gentle kiss on the tip of his nose and pulled him to his feet. 

Once you had dragged him back into the living room, you clapped your hands loudly, waking up Coyote and making Bob jump to attention, cookies flying everywhere. Then you reached behind the TV and unplugged it forcefully from the wall.

"Listen up, assholes!" All six men just stared at you, thoroughly confused and quite drunk. "On your feet!" 

You watched as all six of these large men lined up silently in front of you, expressions of concern and fear on their faces. 

"Now, one or more of you made my boyfriend feel bad about himself, and that's not going to work for me. Understand?" You lectured loudly, pacing back and forth and making eye contact with each of them in turn. When you reached Bradley, you gave him a little peck on the cheek before continuing back down the line.

"You don't get to call Rooster names or make fun of him. Didn't you learn that in elementary school? It's not nice to do that to people. And sadly for you, now I'm in a not nice mood."

Bob audibly gulped. Hangman pressed his lips together in a tight line. Fanboy looked like he was going to wet himself. 

"It doesn’t matter who or what he used to do. He’s with me now, you absolute dickwads! Would any of you like to come forward and tell me to my face that you think I'm a joke? That you think I make poor decisions? That you think I settled for Rooster?"

They all stood silently in their lineup, staring straight ahead. None of them moved except for Bradley, who turned to face you with a look of absolute devotion on his face. You winked at him before you continued.

"No? I didn't think so. Furthermore, for all you know, I could have fucked a million other guys before Bradley. But the only thing you know for sure is that you think I'm pretty, and that I've never fucked any of you. And I never will. Except for you, Roo."

Bradley was smiling now.

"You all have exactly one minute to apologize sincerely to Bradley and then to me, or I will kick you out of my house and you'll never be invited back. And it better sound sincere, or I'm telling Penny that you insinuated that I settled for Rooster. I'll have her ring that bell every time you're at the Hard Deck, and I'll invite all of my friends to drink on your tabs. One minute starts right now." You crossed your arms and watched as they jumped into action.

Each man apologized in turn to Bradley and then to you with looks of real remorse on their faces. Fanboy looked like he might cry as he told you, "I didn't mean what I said to Rooster. And I'm sorry I upset you. I love the two of you together."

Bob was still wiping cookie crumbs off of his shirt as he gave you a gentle hug. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I should have never said what I did. I'm embarrassed, and I'll never do it again."

Payback looked at the floor as he apologized profusely. "You're right. It wasn't funny. Rooster and you are lucky to have each other."

Hangman half smiled at you and nodded. "Angel, you're perfect for him. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset either of you."

Coyote just said, "I'm very sorry, ma'am."

You uncrossed your arms. "Apologies accepted. Now you are welcome to crash here since you're all sloppy drunk. But I'm not going to get up and make you waffles in the morning like I originally planned." The looks of devastation on their faces were very satisfying as you continued. "I know you are all better than this, and I expect you to be better in the future. Now I'm taking this one and going to sleep," you said firmly, taking Bradley's hand in yours and heading to bed. 

"And don't you ever doubt that I want to be with you," you told Bradley. "I love you, Roo."

The next morning, you woke up early and made french press coffee and a stack of heart shaped pancakes just for Bradley's hangover. You tossed some granola bars and bottles of water at the rest of the guys. They moped as they inhaled the delicious smell of pancakes cooking, but they were nonetheless on top-notch behavior for you from that day forward. 

--------------------------------

Thanks for reading!!! This might be my new favorite B and BG moment!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x female reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Some paz vizsla x sith male reader?

Paz Vizsla x Sith male reader

Headcanons

Because of my love for fanfic and the Kotor games, theres a lot of headcanosn in this. I will find a way to involve Revan when I can, so he’s also there, in the background. Theres also a single Revan x Canderous mention.

Theres so much about Kotor in this, it really took a life of its own, so I hope you enjoy.

I missed writing star wars so bad, can yall tell?

First of all, being Sith doesn’t immediately make you evil. It just means you follow a specific religious groups way of teaching and practice their rituals to some extent. This means you use the dark side, and have nothing against harming others to reach a goal.

You aren’t as power hungry as other sith in this time, and you aren’t under Palpatine’s thumb. Far from it actually. The dark side is to some extent fueled by your hate for the empire and anyone involved with it, as you were once a jedi youngling when the purging happened.

You were a padawan at the time, and your master had always been very interested in holocrons and the past. Their most prized possession was the holocron of Darth Revan, or one of his many holocrons that had been left all over the galaxy.

So, after you saw them gunned down by the clonetroopers you thought you could trust, you ran, taking an escape pod to get as far away as possible. It just turns out you had been carrying Revan’s holocron in your bag at the time, and after landing on a smaller less populated planet, you had hidden away in its vast cave system.

You feared going mad for a while, as you were just a padawan, one who had lost everything. You were almost consumed by this anger and rage, so uncontrollable as you cracked at the edges and fell.

Revan’s force presence must have felt this inside the holocron, as he appeared before you, and guided you through it, keeping you from completely shattering your mind and becoming a beast hellbent on revenge.

From then on, Revan became your new master, leading you around the galaxy to find his other holocrons and artifacts as he taught you everything he knew, and to the best of his ability.

He was kinder than any sith you had ever heard of or met, and he taught you a lot about the sith empire and how not all sith had been power hungry madmen, that before the rule of two, they had been more on the stable side, to a certain extent.

He never claimed they were good people, but you didn’t need that, you appreciated his honesty. Along these journeys, you even found holocrons of some of the other sith of his like, like Malak, who was Revans old friend.

Malak hadn’t been happy about you in the beginning, but he had ended up begrudgingly taking some kind of master role to you, almost like a standoffish uncle. But thanks to their training you are able to stay completely hidden from the empire, and live the life you want to live.

You go where the force leads you, which just so happens to be places that Revan and other great sith of made themselves at home in the past. You had almost started cheering and singing when you found what some would call the tomb of Darth Nihilus, much to your masters embarrassment, as Malak looked at Revan with a lifted brow.

Your interest in the past had been something you had picked up from your first master as a padawan, and it stayed. It was something Revan had to accept as his force ghost watched you fanboy over a mummified hand of Darth Sion, or leftover notes left over by Darth Malgus on saber forms.

Your greatest achievement was your helmet. Or rather, your master’s old helmet. Palpatine had pretty much ransacked the jedi temples after culling them all, stealing whatever he wanted, and the jedi had owned Revan’s helmet for many years, locked away far away from prying eyes.

With your master, and uncle-masters help, you were able to sneak in and steal it right back, taking it from right under Palpatine and Vader’s noses. The helmet barely looked like a helmet with how old and worn it was, but the power inside it made it clear. It was Revan’s helmet.

Revan had gifted it to you, almost beaming as you teared up at the trust he seemed to put in you. You were sith alright, and your emotions were what fueled you, and your love for your master and his love for you was the strongest there could be between family.

You were able to create a new helmet, using what was left of Revan’s and other materials, one of those materials being Beskar you stole from the empire. You even painted in similarly to Revan but added some of your own touches.

Little did you know, this helmet is what caught your future lovers attention first. Mandalorians love a strong partner, and those that follow the creed love some good armor, so Paz couldn’t keep his eyes off you when he saw you the first time.

You pretty much just bleed raw power into the air around you, letting it swirl around you like a second armor and letting everyone around know you were a possible threat if crossed. That was the kinda person that had Paz sweating and his blood pumping.

You would meet because you found yourself on the same planet as the covert hes with, hunting down something left by Canderous ordo, some piece of armor, like a pauldron he had left behind for Revan as some kind of marriage declaration.

Its after finding these pauldrons that you meet Paz, and some of the other older members of the covert. Apparently, words of a guy in scary black and red armor skulking around was enough to have them weary.

In the beginning they might think your Mandalorian, from the style of your armor and the new unpainted pauldrons you have added to your armor, making them hesitate, but that moment of hesitation if all you need to launch an attack.

You don’t kill any of them, wouldn’t want too, but by the force do you kick their ass, another thing that has Paz feeling hot under all that armor. He almost wants to drop to his knees to say the marriage vows right then and there when you fling him over your head using one hand, the other reflecting blaster bolts with little difficulty.

What can he say, mandalorians fall hard and they fall fast, blame it on living such dangerous and hard lives. So, when he sees you aren’t actually trying to kill them, Paz hopes there’s a chance you might stick around.

You end up getting away, ignoring the cackling of your master and the glowering of your uncle-master. The tables turn when Malak starts mentioning Ordo and the love declaration through the pauldrons, leaving your master quiet and mumbly as Malak smirks. They are definitely the reason you don’t fear the sith of old as much anymore.

Paz grieves a little as he doesn’t see you again for a while, even though he tries to keep an ear and eye out for you in your black and red armor and that flexibility that has him gripping the wall when he thinks about it too hard.

In the end its Ragnar, Paz’s son, that brings you before them again. He had ended up in some trouble, and the force had almost screamed for you to help him. Listening to the force was what you did, so you helped the helmet wearing kid out.

Ragnar was smart, and had heard his dads dreamy mumblings and the other mandalorians teasing, so he could immediately tell who you were. One way or another, and though it’s extremely against the rules, he gets you to where the covert is hiding.

Paz shows up and starts worrying about Ragnar, cuz he loves his son and doesn’t wanna see him hurt, and when he hears its you who saved him, he starts feeling hot under the armor again.

On the insistence of the force, you stick around the covert. Paz takes the time to go about romancing like mandalorians do, by peacocking and challenging you to spars. He never wins, not even the ones where you don’t use the force.

Its humorous to see that large hulking back being wrestled to the ground by you, or thrown around like he weighs nothing. You can tell how he feels about you, but you fear acting on it, even though Revan keeps bugging you to do so, much to Malaks annoyance.

In the end you two end up getting together like how many mandalorians do or did. During a fight. Things were getting tough, and a couple of your allies had gotten hurt, even Paz was down for the count.

You needed him up and at em though, so you had reached down and pulled him into a keldabe kiss, pressing your helmeted foreheads together and told him if he got out of this alive, you’d let him take you on a date.

That immediately had him standing, even though his leg wanted to buckle from a stab wound. The enemy were taken out in record time.

Your first date goes a little awkwardly, as neither of you actually have any experience dating. You spending all your life as a jedi and then sith, and Paz being part of a pretty hard covert. But you two work it out, and it ends with you sparring and scuffling in the sand, which maybe lead to something more. The helmets stay on the entire time.

No one is surprised when you two start dating, or when you start becoming a permanent fixture in the covert. Sure, they’re weary in the beginning because you are an outsider and because you are sith, but they come to appreciate you.

They really start welcoming you when you can use your dark presence in the force to hide them away from anyone searching for them, or to take out possible threats. You even start teaching some of the force sensitive members. You don’t force them to use the dark side, but you do end up teaching them about the balance between both.

When Din shows up again, he doesn’t fully know what to do with the information that Paz went and got himself hitched, and to a sith of all things, but he sees you well you fit into It all and their creed, and who is he to judge.

You get on well with Ragnar, as he was pretty much the one to bring you to his dad, and the kid grows attached to you. Who else but him can brag about his powerful dark sider warrior dad? That gets him some brownie points from the other foundlings.

When you and Paz marry there is no big ceremony, its just a vow spoken between you and that’s it. You always find yourself cackling at the memory of how jittery he had been to see your face for the first time, now that you were married.

During all this time you hadn’t been against taking your helmet off, but you just hadn’t had a reason too.

Paz spends a lot of time just holding your face in his hands and taking you in, with you doing the same to him. Expect many kisses from then on, every time you are alone. He is really bad at kissing in the beginning, since he has zero experience, but he makes up for it with his enthusiasm and willingness to learn.

Paz is still stoic around others and is a big presence, taking care of the dirty work and keeping people safe. But with you he gets to be soft, he gets to be weaker for once, which only fuels his feelings for you.

He never makes you feel like a monster for using the dark side, and he had marveled and just stared at your glowing yellow eyes for a long time the first time he had seem them, barely believing it was possible for them to look like that, just because of the force.

You are still a sith after all of this, and you still leave now and then to hunt down artificacts and other types of knowledge left by the sith of old, but you don’t feel as much urgency as in the past.

You even bring Paz and Ragnar along for the less dangerous ones, as a family trip. You can’t bring them along for most artifacts though, since you don’t wanna lose them to ancient sith traps or mind tricks.

It’s the stability you’ve needed for many years, and though you are still fueled by passion and emotions, it isn’t the same anger that you had harbored all these years. It was more the love you had for your husband and your son, and the fact that you would tear apart the galaxy for them if they asked.

The feelings are returned from Paz of course, and Ragnar too, as you guys’ care about each other deeply, as any family should. They do get a bit freaked out, even years later, when you tell them about force ghosts and how Revan is always present. Sometimes you say it just to see them subtly looking around, it’s hilarious.

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