#they’ve said they’re in love OUT LOUD

[run-towards-something]

Do you ever just think about how the words “We’re still going to be in love, right?” followed by the IMMEDIATE reply of “Yeah, absolutely” were really said in a whole ass press conference by Sergio Michel Peréz Mendoza and Max Emilian Verstappen???

Because I do.

ALL THE TIME

#they’ve said they’re in love OUT LOUD #WITH THEIR WHOLE CHESTS #NO HESITATION #they make me feel insane #sergio perez #max verstappen #checo perez #chestappen #perstappen #red bull #formula 1 #redbull racing #redbull bois

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts

“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)

“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 

“You look so hot like that.”

“God, you turn me on so much.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)

Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.

“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”

“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)

“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)

“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 

“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 

Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 

Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 

“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”

“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)

“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 

“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)

Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.

Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.

Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 

“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 

“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 

“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 

“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 

Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 

Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)

“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”

“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.

“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.

Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.

Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.

Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 

Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  

#long post #tried adding comments under the “keep reading tag” as footnotes but that didn't work out very well so here we are e;lfgmlr;emf #based on personal experience HEHEHAHAGAHA #im running out of names for these lists ffs #cat guy chronicles #just realised a lot of this is smutty than not-smutty lmfao #smut prompts #suggestive prompts #dialogue prompts #fluff prompts #otp prompts #writing scenarios #writing prompts

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

“It’s a,” and here Cody bites his lips, scratches the side of his nose.

“A?” Obi-Wan prompts gently. Keldabe Kiss doesn’t, objectively, sound too dirty. What’s in a name etc. but when Cody had said, if Obi-Wan is game, they could try something, Obi-Wan had kept his expectations open.

“It’s a headbutt,” Cody wrings out of himself after another few seconds.

On the list of things Obi-Wan had, after all, expected to some degree, this isn’t one of them. He keeps silent. “You want to give me a concussion?” He’s great at being silent, turns out. “Or vice versa?”

Cody is already shaking his head, foot gently shoving his helmet further away from them. “No! It’s a sign of affection…”

Only in the Mandalorian culture, Obi-Wan thinks fondly. “Explain it to me,” he signs, eyes crinkling despite himself.

Cody huffs, leans back against the wall behind his bunk. Most of his armor is stacked on its stand. The helmet on the floor near them because Cody had been fiddling with the antennas when he’d gripped it with both hands, stared at the visor, and asked if Obi-Wan knew what a Keldabe Kiss was.

Obi-Wan sits cross-legged in front of him, restless fingers playing with the starched to death blanket. The mask is on and he wishes it weren’t. The last engagement had knocked the air right out of his lungs when a Hyena-class suddenly dropped down on them and delivered proton bombs on mass. He ended up gasping and on his back after the action was over, so for now the mask stays on.

Cody adjusts the hem on the t-shirt he’s wearing, the bandage no longer peeking out when he’s done. “I’m stalling.”

“I noticed,” Obi-Wan signs back, knocks his shin against Cody’s and lets it rest there.

“Growing up,” Cody begins after a few long moments where he’s watched their legs touch, “we’d sometimes see the Template put his forehead against Boba’s. Gently,” he adds, crooked smile for Obi-Wan’s concussion related fears. His voice turns wistful and Obi-Wan’s heart aches. “We didn’t— most of us didn’t want to be in his place. The Template hadn’t been popular with the clones long before he rejected us. But something about that gesture…”

The gentleness of it in contrast to the cold, neutral environment they’d been growing up in. The obvious affection of it had been calling them. One of the trainers had let it drop what it was named. And over time they had been able to put together a definition.

“You headbutt your enemy to get out of close quarters engagement,” Cody explains. “You have to be aware how you hit them so you don’t injure yourself while inflicting the maximum amount of damage to your opponent.”

“Is that why your nose is a bit,” Obi-Wan signs, pointing at the crook of his own nose just above the mask.

“Wolffe’s head is harder than his bucket,” Cody mutters, thumb stroking over Obi-Wan’s ankle absently.

The other definition, the one the clones had mostly embraced, the one that brought warmth and solidarity into their midst when no one else provided it, that one was based on affection. Clacking your helmets together after the heat of a battle, a job well done. Bringing your foreheads together to be there, to mourn together, to show the other isn’t alone. To remind the other they’re loved.

“It’s also a proxy for a kiss,” Cody explains, color high in his cheeks which makes Obi-Wan’s heart squirm in his chest. They’ve had sex a few possible and impossible ways and yet Cody is blushing over explaining a kiss. It’s sweet and touching and— “You can’t kiss when you wear buckets,” Cody says, “and sometimes you can’t kiss at all for various reasons. So it’s— it’s a kiss by proxy,” he ends, shrugging helplessly and aborted.

Obi-Wan waits as the question builds up inside Cody, firming the strokes of his thumb, the determination in his spine. He waits while Cody is stealing his breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

#loud au #codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #mute!obi wan #jedi shadow!obi wan #cyberpunk au

[wandasfifthwife]

finding you ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

— wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || discussions of sexual acts/kinks but nothing (yet), reader deals with stress/anxiety, dom/sub dynamic/relationship, dom natasha/wanda w/ sub reader, reader’s personality is described to be shy/anxious/introverted, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference 😭

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.2k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part🌻 —

The city was truly a different world at night just with the way everything seems to take a breath of life. It was cooler, a breeze making its way through the buildings to cause goosebumps on any person walking by. It was cold enough that your friend had thought to try and hurdle you under their jacket, something you forgot to bring.

They didn’t seem to mind, pulling you under the warm blanket of a coat and rushing the two of you towards your apartment. You had just finished dinner—using it as a way to bond and meet up since work has separated you both for too long—and now we’re heading back to your apartment.

“You’re back,” one of your roommates speaks up from their location on the couch, “how was dinner?”

“Great, but I was freezing. You were right about bringing a jacket tonight, I really should’ve.”

“The winds tunnel through these buildings, it’s always good to pack a jacket.”

“Yes well thank you. Is it alright if my friend stays over?”

Your roommates waves a hand, dismissing her claim and focusing back on the tv show. The sounds of whatever bachelor show was playing quiets once you’ve shut your door behind you.

Your friend pins you with a look as she lays down flat into your bed, “what’s the deal with that person from work?”

“It’s really nothing, I think some people are just going through a rough time.”

“Okay well whatever—babe, it’s still not okay.”

There’s a creak in your bed once you’ve decided to join her, the old thing hanging on since you’ve not been able to afford a new one.

“Yeah sure they’ve made some rude comments, but they weren’t that bad.”

“Not to mention they also stole your idea and they’ve been aggressive towards you for no reason—tell them that they’re being a bitch.”

The emotions liked to confrontation are like sinking to the bottom of a body of water, suffocating. Your friend lies beside you, waiting, but her raised eyebrows give away her impatience, waiting to argue with you over your hesitation. A sigh makes it way out, a vocalization of how you’re feeling on the inside, “I really don’t know if I need to.”

“It’s less of a have to and more of a should do. Just be a bitch back,” she makes a poor attempt at reeling in her aggression after your expression of disgust, “or at least talk to someone higher up.”

“I’ll maybe talk to someone later—“ you put a hand up to silence her oncoming attack “—and that’s it. I appreciate you caring.”

“I just want you to be able to stand up for yourself.”

“I know, and I love you for that, but I’m done with stressful topics. I’d like to just talk about exciting things.”

She deadpans, “but this fun.”

A laugh filled amusement fills the room, your foot coming to shove her. There’s a pause after, ears turning into the smaller and more minute sounds. Dramatic stage music, though silenced by your door, it’s loud enough to still make an entrance in your room along with the sirens outside. The sheets rustle as your friend moves onto her side, body facing towards you. It was a gentle breeze until she began to fight off a grin, the thoughts in her mind almost driving a crazed expression in her face.

“Have you thought anymore about what I said?”

“You talk a lot, which of those many conversations are you mentioning?”

“The stress-relieving one.”

The words are quick to bring a similar crazed expression on your own face, one similar to your friend’s but more terrified.

“No.”

“Aw come on. I do it and it’s worked wonders, I still know—“

“I’ve heard enough for one night, you’re too public with it—how’re you not embarrassed?”

She rolls, resting her head on you, “you’re shy, I’m not. I don’t care what others say.”

“You’re weird.”

Her shoulders upturned in a shrugging motion, the vibration from her low hum ticking your stomach. The floor creeks again when she slings her feet off the mattress to find something to eat, leaving you alone for a minute. It seemed to stretch forever due to waiting every second to ask her a burning question. It was nearly on fire when she finally came back, the words tumbling from you.

“Who’re the people?”

It was, technically, four words that set off an hour and a half conversation.

Your friend’s persistently paid off after about two months of bringing it up. It started out as a question to check up, formed into a joke/tease, and ended up as a proposal. You’ve eventually thawed, only tonight feeling comfortable enough to ask, allowing yourself to be curious. It was curiosity, but you strayed far away from any sexual conversations, feeling that topic would actually throw you over the edge.

You pick at your nails, a nervous habit to ease the discomfort of the vulnerable conversation, “what do you do?”

“You mean my role? It’s what I said before, I’m a dominant in our relationship.”

“How often do you do it?”

“Sex?”

Her hand swats at your shoulder, enabling your fidgeting to become actions of aggression. You shove back, “fuck off.”

“Anyways, it depends on each relationship, but for us we fall into it most nights. Usually they come home and I can pick up the signs. I came to understand their body language about a month after us dating that they’re feeling a specific way.”

“Too intimate.”

“Oh yeah, it’s intimate and entirely built on trust. It’s why I love it so much,” your friend reached a hand over, stretching to reach until her fingers wrap around her phone, “I’ll send you their number. It’s entirely up to you from this point on. But genuinely though, if anything I say is making you uncomfortable let me know. I truly have just wanted to help.”

It wasn’t brought up again. An episode of some old show capturing the both of your attention the rest of the night, her scratchy laugh engraved in your mind from how often she found the dialogue hilarious. A small red mark forming from when she got too excited, jumping on the bed and bouncing your body to move and hit a dull item nearby. Thankfully you don’t have neighbors that occupy the room below you.

It was a sad goodbye when you both had the knowledge of how busy your schedules were. You had a form of contact, your phone, but you didn’t always have access to her in person. The lights in the apartment were shut off, the dark almost navy hue covers the room. You clicked your phone on, squinting from the onset of light before checking your recent text from her, “their” contact information sitting open on your phone for the night.

It turned out to be a weak battle, with the conflict being between man vs man. You had daily arguments with yourself, both sides—heart and mind—fighting with valid reasons. You don’t know if they’d be a weirdo overtime. They could not win your trust, or understand you, step over you like your coworker at work has been.

It could be a waste of time to be so intimate with someone and have the time come to a close, so you make a new space in your contacts for their number. You had a simple message typed out, introducing yourself and how you got their number, and then prompt turned your phone off.

The waiting period consumed you.

Brushing your teeth, you’d flip your phone to find that the notification was another spam email from a store you visited two years ago, reminding you to unsubscribe yet again. At work, you’d even pulled your phone from where it rested under your thigh to check whenever it buzzed. It was impossible to deny when the evidence was written all over your face, but you liked to believe you didn’t care.

The earth spun a whole two times and you’d still gotten no response. You checked your phone less, initial nerves transforming right into worry. Were you bothering them?

“Stop fretting,” your friend told you over the phone and then proceeding to let out a laugh at your embarrassed rant, all about how you regret reaching out.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have hooked you up if I thought they weren’t interested. It’s barely been two days.”

“You’re right,” your phone sat across from you, giving you the perfect view to stare at her personalized contact photo,

“Give it time.”

You had another speech about to spill about how you’re not going to obsessively check anymore, but that buzzed sound you’ve grown to respond to rapped against your wooden table.

Your lungs contract, closing when a contact with no profile photo and definitely no name appears. Your friend’s voice becoming background noise as your focus snaps to the unopened message, watching it as it slides away.

“Okay well I have to sleep. Love you, stop freaking out.”

The call ends abruptly, a habit of hers you’re usually frustrated with but now you’re grateful. Nerves at a new high for the day when a second message comes in. Feet patter on the hound, carrying you to climb into your room.

Realizing they’ve messaged you back is both an energy drainer and giver. Lights bright on your face while you’re unlocking your phone, clicking on the chat button. Your mind makes up the worst scenarios in hopes to keep your expectations low, but as your eyes sweep across the text a smile appeared on your face.

Long text summarized, they’d love to meet you in person and brief information was shared. They’d agreed to meet halfway at a coffee shop in Manhattan named, “coffee project nyc.”

The closest subway station was swarmed with a dozen people, the time on your phone being the explanation behind why others were brushing against you on the train. They contained to when after the train had arrived, pulling you along with them like a terrible tide.

Your phone map is a virtue, showing you the route until the cafe is in sight just across the street. It was across the street but your feet were stuck to the side you were on. Seconds passed like milliseconds, speeding up like your breathing.

The door had a little bell, one that rang when you walk through and sit down at the closest open seat to you. Eyes set on your phone screen like you were doing something meaningful by scrolling through already opened texts.

A new text appeared, a statement, telling you that they’d arrive. It wasn’t the intention, but you realized you hadn’t told them you had also arrived. The bell rung as it did for you, signaling to you and the others in the building that another had entered.

Her tone was clear when she spoke to you, leaning so she can look at your eyes. An air of calm around her when she introduced herself, saying how nice it was to meet in person.

“Is there anything you’d like from here? Natasha’s in line to get herself something.”

“Oh no,” you internally wince at how high your tone is pitched, “I’ll just pay for my own later!”

“It’s on us if you’d like any,” she repeats the offer with a smile. The scent from all the coffee beans and tea leaves is too addicting, filling your senses and pulling at the right heart strings to make you weak.

“If it’s okay could I maybe get a tea?”

“That’s perfectly fine. Natasha hasn’t ordered you yet, you can go tell her your order,” she says, words emphasized by her finger directing you to find the women fifth in line. An apology comes out as a whisper, feeling bad when you have to cut between two people holding a conversation.

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling nervous about being pushed to her warm body by those in line and others trying to move about.

“Breathe,” she says, pausing your sentence until she’s seen you visibly take a breath.

“Sorry,” you say, the unwarranted apology causing her eyebrows to furrow.

“Why sorry? You don’t have any reason to be.”

You say it again but she makes no pays if no mind, a gentle hand coming to rest under your forearm.

“Would you like something?“

The words you had spoken to wanda are repeated, asking about ordering a tea with another apology following right after. You fear she’s upset, but every movement she makes is kind, soft.

“You don’t have to apologize. Go wait with Wanda, I’ll bring it over once it’s made, okay?”

You thank her what feels like ten times, hoping each one is more sincere than the other before stepping away, mindful of the kicked up carpet. Wanda’s smiling at you, reaching over to push your chair out.

“Did you get a tea?”

“I did, thank you two—seriously—I appreciate this.”

Her response comes out as a hum, the words, ‘of course,’ mended together through the one sound, “how was your ride over? You mentioned the trip only being a few minutes, correct?”

“Usually yes.”

“Have you been here before then?”

“Not really, I don’t go out often. If I did I’d ruin my budget plan.”

The smell of the store is amplified once the cup is placed in front of you, the gentle steam floating off the top smelling exactly like the aroma in the small room. The seat to the right of you is pulled out, taken by Natasha a second later. Hers smells of coffee, a darker roast you’re familiar with from one of your roommates making it in the morning.

She picks through the sugars on the table, ignoring Wanda’s advice to leave the sweetness alone; Wanda mentions again how it impairs her dreams, giving her terrible nightmares instead. Natasha acknowledges what she says and still pours two in, her defense being the brand labeling itself as a ‘natural sugar’ as opposed to some other popular companies.

You turn to Wanda, “do you like to drink coffee or tea?”

“I do,” she says, fingers brushing under yours to stabilize the tilting hold you had on the cup, “every now and then I’ll get a tea.”

She quirks a quick smile, the mood fading fast once she’s turned her attention to Natasha and how bright the coffee has become. Natasha pulls the cup away from her extending grasp, bringing the cup to her lips with a grin.

“Do you work?”

“I do! I work in marketing at a real estate company, basically meaning I create pamphlets and design their websites. Do either of you have a job?”

Natasha keeps the mug in her hands, not letting go despite the heat, “we do. I work as a mechanical engineering, Wanda’s does corporate finances.”

You later worry about how your emotions are written on your sleeve seeing how they noticed the slightest change in your body language. Wanda lets her hand drift off of yours seeing as you’re now paying attention to how you’re holding it, “what do you do?”

“Nothing crazy like that. I sell art pieces, occasionally teach somewhere like an art class or work as a substitute for a school if needed.”

“Did you go to school for art?”

“I did, somehow passed to with how strict a few teachers were.”

They then ask to see a piece you’ve done, listening to every word you’re saying on every detail of each individual piece. You show ones you’ve sold, ones you’ve given as gifts to friends/family members, and some you’ve painted for yourself. You ease into the moment with every passing minute, tense muscles and fidgeting movements calming.

The room is small, but busy. A multitude of conversations being held in one place, all forming and coming together like the infamous background ambiance.

A watch on Wanda’s wrist catches light when she flicks her sleeve down to check the time, a deep sigh coming from her when she realizes it’s past 9:30PM, “it’s getting late.”

Natasha hums, grabbing your cups and stacking them to take to the dish bins nearby. You stand when she does, grabbing your coat to toss over your shoulders.

“We can walk you home if you’d like, it is quite dark out.”

You take a glance as well, the scarcity of light on the street enough for you to accept her help. The sidewalks are small, pushing you to walk so close to them you’ve stepped on Natasha’s shoes two times already. They keep close to you, sitting beside you in the subway ride. You’ve told them that you’re grateful they’ve offered to walk you back, but that you also feel bad for taking up their time. They keep reassuring you, every time gentle, if not gentler than the last.

The street becomes familiar again, the lights from your balcony coming into view. The little store building with the apartment complex above it, your little home. It’s never fully quiet, but at this minute in the hour it almost feels like it’s just the three of you. An occasional car, bike, and stranger may walk by, but you barely notice.

“Would you like to see my apartment?”

“I wouldn’t mind a tour,” wanda says, her words making you smile and excitedly being to unlock the door. It’s late enough that either your roommates are out or asleep, leaving you and them to walk into a silent space. It’s entirely too quick tour; only showing them your balcony, bedroom, living room, and kitchen while trying to be quiet for the one roommate trying to sleep.

Wanda calls your name, finding you in your bedroom after hearing where your voice came from and following it. Your room is reflectively dark, only light source coming from the dim lamp by your bed. The one you’ve been meaning to repair.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, a bit tired.”

“I mean about this.”

Your lips fall slightly ajar, taken a bit off guard. She’s not rushing you at all, leaning against your vanity. She’s even gone far enough to not make you even more nervous by moving her gaze anywhere but you.

“I—“ you freeze momentarily when you realize Natasha’s come to stand in your doorway, “I’d like to if that’s okay with you.”

“We’d love to. Later tonight I can send you some papers for you to look over whenever you feel ready.”

You nod, thanking them with a smile. They bid you goodnight, both mumbling sweet words about the night. They both pull you into them, wrapping their arms around you in a gentle embrace before pulling back. You’re inside with heating AC and yet when they pulled back you felt colder.

Once the doors shut, the rooms entirely too quiet, the silence emphasizing the emptiness of their disappearance. They already made an impression, their good nights making you feel twice elated. It shows in your night routine, a smile etched on your face from the night. How beautiful they are, how someone they wished to also see you again, how they were mindful and intentional.

You had gotten dressed, wrapped up in your sheets with your phone settled between you, scrolling through the sweet text they sent after and the documents. The first were fine, but the last few brought nerves to the surface. Explicit acts and suggestive themes filled the page, maybe half you’ve never heard of. They were reassuring though, stating that you’d all run through them together once finished. During the whole process they were helping to answer any questions or concerns you had until you were ready to print and fill it out. After a week and a half you make your relationship official.

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part🌻 —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl

#baby im yours series #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x afab!reader #natasha x wanda #wanda x natasha x reader #dom natasha #marvel natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x wanda x reader #natasha x fem!reader smut #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff marvel #natasha romanov x reader #top natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

[wosoamazing]

Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper

Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper

Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)

A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?

You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.

‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’

It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.

“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.

“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.

“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.

“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”

“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”

“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.

“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”

“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.

“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.

“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.

“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.

“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.

“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”

“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”

“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”

“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.

“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”

“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”

“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.

“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.

“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.

“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”

“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.

“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.

“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.

______

“Shit” Sam said.

“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.

“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To go check on her,”

“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.

The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.

“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.

____

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.

“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.

Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.

“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.

“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”

“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”

“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”

“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”

“Well, that was easy”.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.

“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”

“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”

“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.

“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”

“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.

“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.

“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.

“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.

“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.

“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.

“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.

_____

“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.

“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room,  there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.

“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.

Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.

Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.

After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”

“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.

“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.

“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.

“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.

“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.

“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”

“Yeah, it seems we did,”

“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.

“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”

_____

“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.

A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.

Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.

You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.

Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.

You: Oh

Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.

You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?

You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.

Steph: Wait who told you about that?

Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.

You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.

Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.

You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..

Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing

You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing

Steph: Weirdo

You: Hey

You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.

You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you

You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.

Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night

_____

You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.

“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.

“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”

“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt

[maddipoof]

Incoming Steddie thoughts…..(brief mentions of Eddie losing weight, but it’s really just one sentence and he’s ok)

So you know how Eddie tapes his rings to make them fit? You’ve seen the pictures of his hands. Yes, you have don’t lie to me. So he wraps tape around the underside to make them fit his fingers.

Yeah, so what if they’d been together for long enough that they want to give each other things. But like subtle ones, cus like, 1980s middle america… So Eddie gives Steve his guitar pick necklace because of course he would, and he can just tuck it into his shirt. (and I really feel like Steve is a necklace type of guy, like not just a chain guy- no absolutely not he needs some kind of pendant somehow) But Steve needs to give Eddie something inconspicuous too, something people won’t notice right away and even if they did, something they wouldn’t question.

So he decides on his class ring but Whump Whump, Steve has bigger fingers than Eddie and he already knows that so before he gives it to him he gets some string and he wraps it around the back because it’s softer than tape.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah Stevie?”

“You know how you gave me your necklace?”

“Yeah and I told you I don’t want anything back so get that hand out of that pocket and it better be empty”

“I didn’t get you anything, I already had it.”

“I said you don’t have to give me anything.”

“Too late, take it” and he presses it right into his palm.

Eddie looks at it and he shakes his head and makes a face, “Stevie, what- I can’t take this from you.”

“Yes you can, I’m giving it to you. Does it fit?”

“Yeah, uh perfectly, actually”

Then nobody really notices for a while, Eddie’s hands always flying around so fast no one gets a chance to really look at the numbers engraved on the side. They all know they’re together, but no one really gets the intensity of their relationship, considering they’ve only been together for so long. But they do notice the different colored string on the other side. Then Dustin and Gareth get worried that he’s losing weight again. So they ask him about it and he cannot make eye contact and he’s just fidgeting with his rings, which only worries them more but then they see his goofy little smile under his bangs and he just spills about how he and Steve traded and it was so cute and “Steve’s just so ugh- I can’t even make it into words, but he got the size perfect and everything, and I just-“ and they haven’t said they love each other out loud yet.

Then one day he’s cleaning all his rings so he has to take the string off and he sees the engraving underneath it. On one side, in the standard times new roman every one got, a nice, even SH. Then as he’s unwrapping it, he sees something else, and he starts panicking “oh my god I scratched it, he’s gonna be so upset, I scratched it Jesus H Christ.” Then after he paces his bathroom for a solid 15 minutes, his hands dragging down his face, rubbing his nose, he finishes unwinding it and there, in the most scraggly looking etching is a little, uneven EM

@haydipoof

#steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie brainrot #steddie headcanon #steddie hyperfixation #Della’s headcanons

[yuyinesque]

WOMANEATER | “𝗒-𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗁-𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒…”

⚘ précis. ≡ you're a therapist in a psyche ward, and your new patient isn't one you're particularly experienced with.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ yandere!incel & psyche ward!therapist y/n, afab!reader (no fem-aligned prns used), physical violence, compulsive masturbation, hypersexuality, misogyny & women-blaming, usage of “bitch”, mentions of post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd); obsessive behavior; delusion (secondary erotomania); age regressing; & urine, manipulation (guilt-tripping & gaslighting), mentions of suicide & self harm, implied rape fantasies & perversion.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 781.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list

🧷 yandere!incel who is a scrub-wearing individual who wears stoic expressions like they’re permanent masks, though at times the said mask tends to falter vastly when he’s around any woman; even fem-presenting figures drives him an inch deeper towards insanity. he’s picked numerous fights with women and only women, even when they’ve done nothing but walked past him. the fights were always prompted by truculence and defense, as for he would disclose evident signs that he was terrified of said woman, completely convinced that they were after him in some sort of ill manner, so he strikes before they even get the chance to blink. because of this, he’s been isolated away from female figures, and only male characters were capable of catering to him, as he was indifferent towards them. well, every male but you, a female.

🧷 yandere!incel who is quite the handful for inexperienced, psyche ward!therapist darling, as for they haven’t dealt with a patient with such a high caliber of disorders; their worst case so far was a suicidal woman who was diagnosed with type one bipolar. one session with the individual was enough to question your overall abilities. i mean, he despised you. at least that’s what you believed.

🧷 yandere!incel who is tired of you cheating on him with other patients! this is why he’s so angry towards you specifically, but he won’t say. however, he’s also completely infatuated with you; have i also mentioned completely horrified with you? you’ve noticed each time you would change your tone slightly, he would convert into a fretful mouse, apologizing incessantly as tears glossed his dark, beady eyes, also slipping up by referring to you as “mother” in a small, infantile voice. you concluded it was because you reminded him of such, and she was primarily the reason why he feared and hated women so much. motherly abuse.

🧷 yandere!incel who would have his calmer days since he was genuinely interested in his spouse. he’s never had a woman so madly in love with him, so it not only fed his ego, but causes his dick to swell with cum each time you evinced signs that confirmed you were oso desperate for his attention. with the way you sit up when you walk in, reassure him that everything will be fine, or even going out of your way to smile in such a lecherous manner. it angered him, especially when he begins groping his hardened crotch in front of you and complaining about you and your whorish antics. you would ignore him in response or threaten to cut the meeting short, which prompts a loud, slur-screaming, victim-blaming outburst in response.

🧷 “you’re such a bitch, you hear me?! a bitch! and a bitch li-like you shouldn’t even be alive! luring me, t-teasing me—all women are just a bunch of fffffucking sluts!!”

🧷 yandere!incel who also showed signs of hypersexuality and exhibitionism. he was a chronic masturbator, pleasuring himself to the most horrific things with your face in mind. just the thought of keeping you in your place by forcing you to perform taboo acts on the receptionist desk as everyone watched rotted his mind.

🧷 yandere!incel who would try to convince you that he doesn’t hate you only to voice his hatred towards you the next week. then he’d not only do that, but then claim that he’s never done such with tears in his eyes, finding your scoldings utterly unnecessary and so mean. there was even a time where you lost your patience and raised your voice at him, immediately causing him to not only an apologetic rant, but to begin pissing himself in the chair he was trembling and sobbing on, the strong scent of ammonia filling the room during the process.

🧷 yandere!incel who needed your touch or he’ll perform said disgraceful acts. there was a day where he pleaded for just a hug from you if he was good the whole week. once you confirmed it, he did just that. no fights, no arguments, nothing. he even apologized for freezing up and screaming at the poor, feminine soul that walked near him. you knew it was against the rules to be this affectionate towards patients, but you couldn’t break a promise. and so, you did—hugged him. awkwardly, even. he was rather short, so his face was buried within your chest, and the boner pressed against your thigh only made you feel nauseous, but not as nauseous as his next, ominous set of words.

🧷 “y-you better hope these h-hands hold mercy on your.. body once i luh-latch them onto you…”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft

#𖧷 𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 #ᖭི༏ᖫ 𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓸𝓬𝓼 #divider crds : hyelita #divider crds : benkeibear #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yande.re #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x female reader #yancore #yan x reader #yandere original character #yandere headcanons #yandere male #yandere scenarios #yandere nsft #yandere imagines #yandere aesthetic #yandere love #yandere boy #yandere angst #yandere guy #yandere smut #yandere idea #yandere hcs #yandere x oc

[onmydelulushitasalways]

the marauders being clingy

Characters: James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Synopsis: The Marauders loving their s/o and being all clingy

TW: Drunk, alcohol (Sirius)

James Potter

“James,” you whined, “breakfast is going to be over soon, we need to get out of bed.”

James was still half-asleep, with his face pressed against your chest as he laid on top of you. He was like a koala to a tree, clinging onto your warm body.

The way your hands massaged his scalp probably didn’t help keep him alert.

“Five more minutes,” James mumbled sleepily against your skin. “You’re too comfy.”

“James, don’t you have a quidditch match this afternoon? Don’t you want to strategize with the team this morning?”

“They can wait.”

“I have classes to get to, you know?” you stop playing with his hair, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Please, baby, I don’t wanna get up yet!” James complained pathetically.

“You have to get up eventually,” you sat up slowly, James reluctantly following suit. “Let’s get ready, go to breakfast, go to class, I’ll cheer for you at your game, and then tonight we can cuddle until we fall asleep.”

James grumpily got out of bed and ready. “Tomorrow morning is a Saturday. And I will not let you out of my arms until lunch, you hear me?”

Remus Lupin

“And so the combination of rose petals and swan feathers creates a sand-like powder that is commonly used in beauty and love spells. Rowena Ravenclaw, however, feared that access to such emotional magic would harm the students, so for the first two centuries of Hogwarts’ existence was an impeccably swan-free zone…”

You read your history book out loud to Remus, who had his head rested in your lap.

“Remus? Are you listening?”

“Hm? Yes, of course, love. Swans and the lack thereof,” he nodded, as he flipped himself from his back to his stomach. His head still resting comfortably on your thighs.

“Tired, Moony?” you put the book down.

“Mhm, a bit. But don’t stop reading on my account. I’m still listening,” Remus’s voice was tired and relaxed.

“Don’t be silly, you go to sleep.”

“Are you gonna fall asleep with me?” he looked up from your lap, expectantly.

“No, I still need to study. The history of Hogwarts waits for no one,” you sighed with a faint smile. “But you had this class last term, so you don’t need to sit through all this.”

“I want to, love. I like hearing you read,” Remus laid his head back down. “Please, continue.”

You smiled with a roll of the eyes and reopened the book. “In addition to swans, all white feathers were equally prohibited. Notably, doves and cranes got it particularly rough…”

Before you could make it to the next page, Remus was asleep on your lap.

Sirius Black

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” Remus frowned as he led you into the Gryffindor common room.

On a couch, laid a very drunk Sirius, talking some poor second year’s ear off.

“Oh, and you should just see them! They’ve got this smile, and these eyes, and, ugh! I hate them they’re so perfect. And I’m dating them! How did that happen?” Sirius ranted.

“I, um, I don’t know,” the perfectly sober second-year shrugged awkwardly.

“Me neither!” Sirius said just a bit too loud.

You walked over to relieve the poor kid from their duties. “I’ve got him from here, thanks.”

“Darling!” Sirius cheered happily at your arrival. He opened his arms for a hug, which when you accept he turns into a cuddle.

He wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you down on top of him on the couch. The scent of alcohol hit you.

“How much have you had to drink, Sirius?” you inquired.

“Enough to feel good enough to do this,” he smirked as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kiss was long and sloppy, until you pulled away. Sirius frowned slightly at that.

“Siri, you’re smashed. I think you should get to bed,” you advised.

“What? No! You just got here, I’m just starting to have fun!” Sirius whined.

Suddenly, another Gryffindor approached you, asking for help with an essay he had due tomorrow.

“Back off! She was just about to take me to bed!” He declared proudly, with drunken loudness and shamelessness.

And you did just that. Took him to his room, and cuddled him to sleep. Although his hangover was not as pleasant.

#marauders #the marauders #the marauders fluff #the marauders x reader #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff

[bearhugsandshrugs]

Ok imagine a sleep talking Tav tells their romance partner “I love you” in their sleep and their partner is just floored at the first time confession in their earnest, too-honest sleep haze and ofc Tav doesn’t remember in the morning

I had to write this for all of them, obviously, because this is so cute.

Thank you so much for this!

Astarion

He scoffs at the confession, taken aback in the moment, defenses rising sky high as he prepares for mockery. When he realizes Tav is half asleep, words tumbling out of their mouth unguardedly, he sits there in the dark, lower lip trembling as he stares at them. The next morning when they’re both awake, he softly tries to get a reaction out of Tav. He wants to, needs to hear them say it again. To make it real. So when the first opportunity presents itself, he jabs a “It’s because you love me, isn’t it” at them, and it’s absolutely not as smooth as it sounded in his head, but Tav stares at him, considering. Then it hits them, that they do, in fact, love Astarion. So when they reply “Yes. I love you”, simply and matter of fact, he can only grin, exhilarated by the repeated confession. “It does sound sweeter when you’re awake, my love.”

Gale

Love who? Gale is confused. They can’t possibly mean him, could they? But then Tav says it again, a soft “Gale” added to their confession, and the wizard’s face burns so hot that a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead. “I love you too” he whispers into the dark, gently placing a kiss on Tav’s lips before nestling his body against theirs. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t say a thing, a sweet secret that he is happy to hold for the both of them, until Tav is ready.

Halsin

A small smile flashes across his face, but gets replaced by furrowed brows as Halsin softly strokes Tav’s hair. Love. A feeling, no, a concept, that is so deep, so complex, that he’s glad for his partner’s quiet breaths as they fall back into a deeper sleep. Does he love them? Deep in his heart, he knows. Has known for a long time, as their presence brightens all colors, heightens all senses, like a beam of sun breaking through a cloudy day. Still, the confession hits him unprepared, and he sighs as the meditation does not come easily that night, his heart stumbling over itself again and again as the memory of Tav confessing their love for him takes hold. The next day, he asks his lover on a walk, gently breaching the subject and telling them about their words, in the candid and tender way they’ve come to love him for. Sensing his struggle, Tav pulls him into a hug, whispering the confession into his ear again. Yes. It does not feel wrong, merely unfamiliar. Smiling down at them, Halsin finally responds: “I did not expect to go on yet another adventure with you, but for what it’s worth, this might be the sweetest one.” He isn’t ready yet. But he will be.

Karlach

“What?!” Karlach’s voice is loud enough to startle Tav, pulling them out of their dreams. “You what?” Slowly coming to, Tav rubs their eyes as they try to comprehend what has their beloved tiefling in such an outburst. “What’s wrong?” they ask groggily, but Karlach shakes them awake, beaming, grinning, giggling. “Say it again”, she demands, and Tav is too tired to understand. “Say what again” they ask, fumbling for Karlach’s face to caress her cheek. “You said you love me, you dumbass”, Karlach chuckles. “Which is good, because I love you too, and you know what they say about the drunk and the sleepy: they don’t lie.” Tav chuckles nervously, confused but not opposed to the sudden declaration. “I do”, they eventually sigh, and Karlach’s face lights up, even in the dim light. “I love you.”

Lae’zel

“T’chk”, the githianky scoffs, shoving her elbow into Tav’s side. “Don’t mock me with such foolery.” When she realizes that Tav’s asleep, unable to defend themselves (or reassure her), Lae’zel rolls her eyes and pulls the covers over her shoulders. “Stupid”, she curses under her breath, and it’s unclear whether she means Tav or herself. The next morning Lae’zel pulls Tav aside, a worried expression plastered across her face. “The tadpole seems to be messing with your head”, she says, eyes skeptical and alert. “Otherwise you’d hardly confess your love to me in your dreams.” Tav stares at them, then chuckles softly, touched by their lover’s particular way of expressing concern. “I’m fine, Lae’zel”, they insist. “Loving you is not a weakness.”

Shadowheart

Her small gasp surprises even her. Then, the pain follows. The white hot flash in her hand brings her to tears, and Shadowheart is glad that Tav is sleeping, oblivious to what has happened. Loving them should not hurt, but Shar keeps her brutal grasp on her. The next day, Shadowheart keeps looking at Tav, trying to gather the courage to tell them, but each time, the pain takes her breath away. When Tav ultimately notices, they pull her into a calm embrace, rocking her slowly until the cleric confesses. “I love you”, they repeat, kissing Shadowheart on her forehead. Suddenly, she feels safe – cradled and protected, belonging to them as they belong to her. The pain fades. Shar has no power over her heart. Not while she’s with Tav.

Wyll

When he hears Tav mumble the declaration in their sleep, he rolls over, facing them. Looks like he needs to speed up his plans – he’d been wanting to tell them that he loved them for days now, debating with himself if it was too much, too soon. Tav’s confession eases him. This is good. The next day he takes them to a secluded spot, flowers upon flowers decorating a small picnic blanket. “What’s the occasion?”, Tav asks, and he smiles, he already knows, so nothing they can say will deter him. “Oh, nothing”, he teases, “just that I love you.” Tav’s surprised, or relieved, maybe both, and they giggle with joy as Wyll pulls them in for a kiss. “I love you too”, they sigh, eliciting a knowing grin from their partner. He will never tell. Some things are sweeter left in the dark, quiet nights he intends to share with them, every night, for the rest of his life.

#astarion #halsin #karlach #shadowheart #gale #wyll #lae’zel #i don’t know shit about minthara so i’m skipping her #should i add gortash and raphael??? #my writing #thank you for this prompt it’s so wholesome #please send me more stuff like this

[korasonata]

JUST finished Cleo’s first stream for Pirates SMP, and the amount of times I just fully burst out laughing like—

—

Sausage: *kisses Scott on sight*

Owen: *throwing himself in front of Sausage * Hi. 😏

Scott: I like a forward man 😉

—

Sausage: Where do you get these? This silk?

Scott: Thank you, thank you…

Sausage: Can I touch it?

Scott: Yeah of course. You can touch whatever you want 😏

—

Oli: I’ll give you 5 gold to tell me what’s beneath that patch.

Cleo: Look my eye got stolen by a monkey, ok?!

Oli: Oh! Was it a my cock?

Sausage: WHAT?!

Oli: A ma’ cock!

Sausage: THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PRONOUNCE IT!

—

*Owenge_Juice becomes a Heron*

Scott/Cleo/El: (chanting) ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!

Owen: …are you allowed to change your mind afterwards?

Scott: NO! :D

—

El: So you’re like a lone wolf?

Owen: Uh…kind of. More like a lone sea dog.

El: Come on, give us a bark.

Scott: Yeah!

Owen: Uh…I only bark in certain situations…

Scott: Oh. What situations?

Owen: …uh, oKAY! WHICH WAY—

—

El: This is my bed over here. There is one right next to it, you can take that.

Owen: Perfect! Thanks!

El: I do make really loud noises in my sleep.

Scott + Owen: Oh???

El: Yeah.

Cleo: Yeah, but not the noises you would expect either.

—

Cleo (about Olive): They said they’d got invitations from Herons and Nightingales I think?

Scott: Yeah it was Heron, Nightingales, and Kestrals, they didn’t get Kites.

Cleo: Who DOES get Kites unless you’re a psychopath.

Scott: Owen got all 4.

Owen: Yeah…umm…

Cleo: Oh…

—

*Cleo gets everyone drunk*

Cleo: Ah, you’re all lightweights!

El: *flirting with Water* Oh, you look so lovely in this light right now!

Water: Oh El!

El: Lovely!

Scott: I feel I can take more damage. I’m gonna go jump off the cliff guys!!

—

Cleo: Maybe one day you can buy a real hat!

El: Well I will, but you know, I just think— I don’t see anybody else having made one when they’ve not got one. Gonna get a wet head.

Cleo: *absolutely lost it*

—

Cleo: Gotta get the alcohol. Otherwise I’m gonna kill someone. It’s fine.

—

Oil (Distant): ARE WE SURE THIS IS THE WAY?!

Cleo: Scott’s sure it’s the way!

Oli (distant distress): I— DON’T LIKE IT!

Aimsey: Honestly I’m hoping for the best! I hope he does!

Oli: Ya Damn Herons!

Cleo: You don’t have to follow us, ok?!

Oli: Well unfortunately my Kestrals already ran off

Aimsey: This is what I mean! I— I’m hoping you get this! I’ve dunked this too many times!

Cleo: It’s very Kestral of you to just wait until the end and have other people to do it for you!

Aimsey: I’m a Kite! I’m a Kite! Thank you!

Cleo: Well, yeah you know what? It’s very typical for Kites to do it too.

Aimsey: Oh well is it now? Is it then?!

Cleo: Oh yeah yeah! It is it is!

Aimsey: Do you wanna duel?! You wanna duel when we get back, Cleo?! You wanna duel?!

Cleo: Do I want to punch you in the face a bunch? I do. But I’m drunk. I don’t know what you want from me.

—

Oli: There we go, I’ve got a side angle. I’m overtaking you, Heron! SLOOOOWWW

Cleo: *cuts him off*

Oli: No stop crashing! You’re crashing my port side!

Cleo: Well you know—

Oli: GET OFF ME PORT SIDE!

Cleo: NO ONE WANTS TO BE ON YOUR PORT SIDE, OK?!

Oli: Everyone wants to be on my port side!

—

Cleo: This is very far away. Like I haven’t heard Scott this whole time. I feel like Scott’s monologuing.

Aimsey: I can hear you though, Cleo!

Cleo: I hear YOU. And I—

Aimsey: You love that, right? You love hearing me. 😏

—

Cleo: *singing* What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we— *talking* apparently put her in a boat and let her follow Scott, that’s what you need to do with a drunken sailor.

—

Oli: AIMSEY! AIMSEY! AIMSEY! STOP SINGING!

Aimsey: *distant singing*

Cleo: Oh I can’t hear Aimsey, that’s good.

Oli: CAUSE I HATE HERONS!

Cleo (a Heron): AIMSEY’S NOT A HERON!

SILENCE

Oli: …then what are they?

Cleo: They’re a Kite.

Oli: OH STUPID KITES! Herons, you’re alright. KITES. Imbeciles.

—

Owen (talking to chat): No, there’s no canon lives, chat. Except in specific cases. *whispering* check with Twitter.

Cleo: YOU’RE BREAKING MY EMERSION OWEN!

Owen: Sorry!

—

Olive: Hey! Where does a pirate go to school? HARRRvard!

Cleo: …You’re out of the faction.

Olive: Oh no! Not on my second day! H—how does a pirate protect themself? ARRRmour.

Cleo: …I’m gonna run a vote…

Olive: No it’s fine, I’ll go join the Kite’s or something, it’s fine.

Cleo: Oh dear.

Olive: What do you call it when two pirates are in a draw? A staleMATEY.

Cleo: OUT! OUT OF THE FACTION!

—

*Cleo walks up to a female NPC*

Cleo: Hello sweet lady 😏

—

Other things I also enjoyed

•Scar managing to get a Jellie and literally everyone swarming around to pet her

•Scott, Aimsey, Cleo, and Oli sailing together and all of them singing a completely different pirate song simultaneously.

•The entire dynamic between Cleo and Aimsey

•Cleo being HELLA sus of Cruppy the entire time right up until Scott hands it a beer and it drinks and suddenly Cleo’s just like actually you know what? You’re alright. We cool.

•Cleo being given babysitting duty and then literally within 5 minutes pawning off the child with a rival faction

•Cleo using being drunk as an excuse for everything. Lag? Everyone is drunk because she keeps giving out alcohol. Server crash? Don’t mind her she’s just vomiting in the corner of a pub somewhere. No tools? She needs the iron to make kegs for MORE alcohol. Oh you wanna fight? I would but I’m drunk. Shit babysitter? I’m a drunk what do you want from me? She signs off for the day and her excuse for her absence is literally just “imma go get blackout drunk for a solid 14 hours”. The fact that the excuse works lore wise for almost every situation.

•THE ANIMATICS

•The LORE. JUST ALL THE LORE

Solid start. 10/10

#pirates smp #pirate smp spoilers #spoilers #zombiecleo #zombie cleo #mythical sausage #owengejuicetv #dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #aimsey #oli orionsound #soupforeloise #watermunch #olivesleepy

[celandeline]

in your head, on your mind // Jordan Li x Reader, Part 2

the brainrot only increases day by day. i want to be them. i want to fuck them. i cannot decide which one of those options i want to do more. anyways, here's part 2. thanks for all the love and support on part 1!

word count: 1874

previous part // next part

You ended up texting with Jordan for most of the night, smiling and giggling to yourself as your roommates slept across the room, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. It was hard though - with every text you found yourself more and more enthralled with Jordan. Everything about them, their sense of humor, their obvious intelligence, the way that they blended flirting with casual conversation, just made you like them more. And the fact that you couldn’t read their thoughts over text only added to the experience. Made it authentic - what were they thinking about right now? You couldn’t know. It was intoxicating. 

Around three in the morning, when you were finally ready to pass out, you made plans to hit the gym together tomorrow. 

Which is why you loiter in front of the gym now, checking and re-checking your phone to see if they’ve texted you again. It’s 1:57, three minutes before you said you would meet up, though you’ve been waiting for at least five minutes more. Anxious. Excited. Thinking about them already. 

…be perfectly fine, you’ve got this. It’s not even like a real date or anything, you’re just hitting the gym. Casually. Casual. Okay. Oh, fuck okay. Wow. You look really good in workout gear.

You pick up on their thoughts before you see them, just as anxious and excited as your own. Turning, you smile as they come into view, today in their masculine form, dressed in a loose tank top and baggy sweatpants. “Hi Jordan.”

“Hi.” They say, a smile stretching across their lips. “You look nice.”

“You said.” You say. “Or, thought, rather.”

Right. You’re in my head now, shit. Different than text. “Still thought I should say it out loud.” They say with a shrug. 

“I appreciate it.” You say, and you do. It isn’t often that people take to repeating what they’re thinking in speech once they learn you can hear their thoughts. 

For a moment, the air is silent between the two of you and you simply look at each other. They really are pretty - you could fall into those chocolate eyes and never be able to find your way out. And their hair, you so desperately want to run your fingers through it, it looks so silky smooth. 

You smile as Jordan’s thoughts - much the same as your own - run through your head. You’re so fucking pretty its unreal. I can’t believe you said yes to hanging out. I can’t believe we spent all night texting each other - when was the last time I did that? Like highschool probably. I need to pump the breaks dude fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry. 

“You don’t have to apologize-” You start. 

“I know, it’s just- I’m not used to it yet.” They say, pulling open the door to the gym for you. 

You walk inside, hit by the smell of sweat and rubber and the metallic tang of blood all at once. The sounds of working out - machinery clanging, grunting, screams of pain, echo around the place mixing together with the generic pop music playing over the gym speakers. You hover near the entrance, waiting for Jordan to take the lead. 

“I, um, took the liberty of reserving a sparring room for us.” They say, voice raised a little over the din. “We don’t have to though - I mean, that’s just usually what I do to work out.” No pressure if you don’t want to touch me. I didn’t mean it like that - you already know. 

“Sparring’s fine, yeah.” You say. “Thanks for getting a room.”

“‘Course.” Jordan says, starting towards the back of the gym, where the sparring rooms are located. You follow in their wake, passing hordes of your sweaty peers, all focused on bettering themselves. It is easy to tune out the telepathic chatter when you are inclined to focus on Jordan anyway. 

It isn’t a far walk to the sparring rooms, and Jordan pulls open the door to room five, holding it open for you to walk in. Like the rest of the sparring rooms, it’s completely padded - ceiling and all - to minimize the amount of damage students would do to each other. A circle is drawn out on the center of the floor, a boundary to use for a more traditional match. You drop your gym bag near the door, and turn to Jordan. 

“So what rules do you usually go by?” You ask. 

“Hand to hand only, no powers if you can help it but I guess since you can’t really turn yours off don’t worry about that.” They say. “Uh, we can use the circle if you want but usually me and whoever I’m sparring with just go until someone’s pinned.”

“That sounds fine to me.” You say. “And since I can’t not use my powers, I think you should be able to use yours too. Just to be fair.”

Jordan purses their lips. I would throw you through these walls with my energy blasts. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You say. And then, planting your voice in their head, “I trust you to be gentle with me.”

Jordan’s cheeks tint red. “Okay.” They clear their throat, and set their own gym bag down. “Stretch first?”

You stretch together, working through most of the usual positions and then some that you hadn’t heard of before at Jordan’s prompting. Now, feeling nice and limber, you stand in the center of the room, across from Jordan, your fists raised in front of you, ready to strike. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Jordan raises their own fists, adjusting their stance. For a moment, everything is still. 

You know they’re going to move before they do it. 

Jordan lunges forward, but you’re already darting back, finely tuned into their thoughts, able to counter every move they make before they’ve even finished deciding to do it. When you’d first arrived at GodU, people had underestimated you, thinking your power couldn’t be practically applied in combat situations. How wrong they were. 

Yeah I figured as much. Jordan, unsurprised, changes forms, trying again to land a hit now in their more lithe female body. Still, you’re able to stay one step ahead, dodging the moment they begin to swing, darting back as soon as they lift their foot from the mat to kick at you. You take the opportunity to land a sharp hit on their side, right between two of their ribs, and then another in the center of their stomach. 

Damn, okay Y/N, packing a punch. Jordan groans, but doesn’t stop, instead doing their best to return the hits. You dart away again - keeping yourself one step ahead and an arm’s length away. 

It goes like that for a while - you, carefully in tune with Jordan’s every move, and Jordan, growing more and more frustrated as they fail time and time again to land a punch. It’s fun, listening to their thoughts grow more and more frantic, strategizing and re-strategizing ways to knock you off your guard, and you find yourself biting back a smile, not wanting to infuriate them further. You’re winning without a doubt, until-

Is this what it’s going to be like when we fuck?

Jordan’s thought throws you off your rhythm, and you falter, their fist breezing past your face as you barely move away in time. They grin, and you hear their voice in your head; what? I thought you were used to that sort of thing?

It’s true, you had told them that it happened more often than you liked to admit - and it did, but never in a situation like this. In a fight, most people were focused on well… the fight. Not…

God, your shoulders look so good in that shirt. You should get more shirts like that. I want to sink my teeth into your muscles. 

Jordan throws another punch, and you only narrowly dodge it again, doing your best to ignore the way they’re thinking about you. It’s hard though, when you’re so focused on their thoughts anyway to try and keep ahead of their punches. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

It all comes to a head when Jordan actually lands a hit on you because you were distracted by the image of you and them, pressed against the lockers of the locker room, making out with furious intensity. There was a quality to the thought that made you think it wasn’t the first time Jordan had conjured this image - but it was the sharp change in focus that actually made you falter. 

Jordan lands one hit, and then their hand wraps around your arm. Before you can wiggle free, they shift into their male form, grip tightening. I’m going to throw you to the floor. 

If it had been anyone else, the thought would have sparked fear. But instead, excitement swirls in your stomach. 

As gently as someone can throw someone else to the ground, Jordan flips you. You land on your back against the cushioned floor, the impact radiating through your whole body. Before you can scramble back to your feet, Jordan - still masculine and therefore immovable - pins you down, almost laying on top of you. 

“I win.” They say, lips only inches from yours. I could kiss you right now. Would you let me? You don’t have to. 

You press your lips together, fighting off a smile as you pretend to struggle in their grip. “Fine you win. What kind of prize do you want?”

“Don’t tempt me.” They say, eyes darkening as their pupils widen ever so slightly. Fuck. Do you mean that?

You smile, and wind your thoughts into theirs. You don’t get to fuck me - not yet anyway - but I’ll kiss you if you still want it. 

The second the thought registers, Jordan is pressing their lips to yours, roughly, hungrily, like they’ve been waiting. You know they’ve been waiting - you can feel it in their thoughts, in the way that they run a hand down your side like if they stop touching you you’ll disappear. As soon as you feel them let their guard down, you flip the both of you over, giving yourself a turn to hover over them. 

Their eyes widen as you break the kiss to start leaving little kisses along their jaw, working towards their neck. Oh fuck. You can’t- you said we can’t fuck right now, you cant start kissing me there- fuck. I can’t fight this boner-

They shift under you, reverting back into their female form. You take it in stride, still continuing your path to the sweet spot beneath their ear. You suck hard on the delicate skin once you land, and they groan deep in their throat, pushing their chest up against yours as their eyes roll into their head. You pull back to enjoy their reaction, and when they open their eyes again, you smile. 

“I wouldn’t have been offended by a boner, you didn’t have to switch to hide it.” You say. 

Jordan smiles. “Habit, sorry.” They pause. “Um.” I need to go home and jerk off. Like right now. Sorry. “We should do this again, sometime.”

You roll off of them, smiling as you plop down on the matted floor. “For sure.”

#gen v #jordan li #derek luh #london thor #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader

[seungmoonandstars]

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: ~2k

rating: fluff -`♡´- (seungmin finally tells you he loves you...but then he has some other problems)

contains: tipsiness, drinking, lots of kissing and touching. part of the blind date universe, but also works as a stand alone piece (⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝ ;)

☾ masterlist

｡⋆｡

Seungmin, your Seungmin—your favorite person in the entire world. Your comfort and your good luck charm. The one that you’ve come to know so well...he's still sometimes a mystery.

You’ve learned so much about him in the months that have passed, even though your nights together haven’t totaled up to much more than…maybe six weeks—you know his favorite dishes, and you always work on making them just how he likes it (he still blushes when he comes home and sees something simmering in the kitchen). If his timing is right, he’ll help you cook, and he’s pretty good at it.

His favorite movies, the music he likes to listen to when he's trying to unwind and turn his brain off for a while. Sometimes you hear songs and take note of them, because you think he might like them. You make him playlists—he makes them for you, too.

He’s neat, and he keeps his things as organized as possible, which you can’t imagine is easy, seeing as he divides his time between two places now. You hope that habit rubs off on you.

A few of his bad (and not so bad) habits have shown themselves, too. His showers last twice as long as yours, so you always have to beat him to it in the morning. And he talks (mumbles) in his sleep...usually when he’s very tired and keeps himself up too late. If he’s not talking, he’s wrapped around you on your side of the bed. Seungmin is a fierce cuddler in his sleep.

He’s reserved, and sometimes he’s still hesitant to share things with you, and that's okay. It’s normal, because your normal is to over share, and he loves to listen. He’s so good at listening. You don’t think he knows how much of a comfort he really is to you.

The first time…no, technically the second time you told him you loved him (the first time was during sex because you couldn’t help yourself), he was just getting ready to leave. His ride was waiting, and you were holding him up because you needed to work up the courage to say it again. His ears turned red when the words spilled out of your mouth, he stared blankly at you for a moment, then held you against him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t expecting him to say it in return—the kiss, his hand rubbing your back, the barely discernible giggle—all of that said it for you.

Seungmin is a little shy. But even more, he knows how to save things for just the right moment.

｡⋆｡

Tonight, you have him. But not at home. He insisted on bringing you out...out in public, with his friends. Breaking two rules at once. You both agreed on staying away from anywhere anyone could see you together, and you also planned on waiting as long as possible before revealing how serious the relationship was to anymore friends.

You’re shoulder to shoulder with him on one side of the table, Jeongin and Felix are on the other side (Seungmin claims this whole thing was Jeongin’s idea). The food set out in front of you reminds you of your first date, but there is so much more. He has an appetite tonight; he doesn’t seem at all nervous, like you are. But that could also be the second drink he’s throwing back. You’re only halfway through your first.

“How are you feeling?” He leans in to say it directly in your ear. The restaurant is busy, and it’s a little loud. “You look distracted.”

“It’s weird being out like this. But…”

“But nobody is paying attention to us.”

You nod, look at him, look at his lips. Kissing him would be nice, but you won’t do that here. That can wait until later. When you look across the table to your dinner dates, they’re both staring and smiling at you. They’ve been talkative and warm and sweet, just like Seungmin said they’d be—asking questions, wondering how it was being in the situation you’re in.

Jeongin made a point to tell you how he figured out your existence on his wits alone, and that he’s glad Seungmin stuck with it and kept you around. They, of course, don’t know how difficult the whole thing was, but that’s between you and Seungmin.

Somehow, he notices your exhaustion tonight…your social battery starting to run low. There’s no reason why he should even know what that looks like on you, but he does. He grabs your hand under the table, sets it on his thigh, and holds it tight.

But you don’t want to cut anything short, and it hasn’t been a very long night. This feels important to Seungmin, though. You order another drink. He gets one, too, and soon the need to kiss him becomes a little too overwhelming, so…after a little bit longer, a few more drinks, questions, musings, Felix and Jeongin wondering when you’ll meet everyone…it’s time to go home.

｡⋆｡

Seungmin is quiet the entire ride back. Tired, a little touchy, but he doesn’t say a word. You lead him inside, into the elevator, down the hall—hand in hand. He watches carefully as you unlock and open the door, and it’s then, in the too bright hallway light, you see his heavy, glazed over eyes staring at you.

“Hey,” you grab him by the waist and walk him inside, “how many drinks did you end up having, pup?”

He laughs, but doesn’t answer.

“Can you get your shoes off?”

He mhmmm’s as he falls back onto the chair, “I can…” leans forward, and pulls at the laces on his Nikes, “I can.”

His gaze follows you as you head to the kitchen and fill up the electric kettle, and when he does manage to get both of his shoes off, he shuffles in and leans against the counter, “did you have a good night?” He wets his lips and runs his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah, I did. They’re both very sweet, I can you see why you’re so close.”

“I think they liked you, too.” Seungmin leans forward and kisses the same spot on your cheek, “I knew they would.”

You turn your head and catch his lips. His laugh breaks up the kiss, and you grab him by the waist again, “go sit down, I’ll bring you some tea.”

He pokes out his tongue and pouts before stumbling away from you, “too warm for tea. It’s warm in here…” his voice trails off as he heads for the living room.

It is warm. It’s still warm outside, too, so opening the windows won’t help much. “I’ll put it on ice.” When you look to him again, he’s already sprawled out on the couch, arms above his head, t-shirt pulling up just enough to reveal his stomach. His eyes are open though, and he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. A yawn escapes him.

You decide against the tea and grab a bottle of water instead. “Up,” he groans as you shake his knee, but he listens and makes room for you, “drink this, it’ll make me feel better.”

“You? I will drink it, but I feel pretty good.”

“Yeah, I should’ve cut you off.”

“I’m good,” he paws at you and pulls you closer. “I feel good. You feel good.”

“You feel good right now, yeah.”

“Mhmm,” Seungmin gently grabs your face and kisses you, once, twice… “very good.” His eyes are still shining with tipsiness, but he’s all there. Drinking isn’t something either of you do often, but Seungmin does like his beer and soju (tonight it was soju) with dinner. He also knows his limit. Tonight, he got there, and maybe a little extra. “Will you be here with me all day tomorrow?”

“I’ll be home before noon, so sleep in for me.”

Another groan. He pulls you closer, “peach…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?” He says it into your neck and kisses slowly upward.

You leave him hanging for a moment. He knows you do, and he also knows you’re going to indulge him and tell him over and over again, if that’s what he wants. “Do I…hmm.” The feel and sound of him biting at the skin below your ear gives you goosebumps…”yeah.” As soon as you close your eyes, everything falls away. It’s just the two of you—nothing else. Seungmin’s touch makes you feel like the only thing that matters.

“Tell me,” he holds tighter and softens his kiss.

I love you

His hands run up your back, and he scratches gently as they come back down. “You do…” he coos, and pulls you onto his lap, so you send a soft string of I love you’s into his ear.

“I love you, too.” He finally says it, a little muffled, lips pressed gently into your skin like he’s savoring the taste.

It feels so good hearing it in his sweet, tired voice. Until now you’ve only heard it in your head. Seungmin’s actions speak very loudly, though, so you knew.

“Do you?” you tease. “...you love me?”

A sweet, tired laugh follows. His hands pull at your shirt, but it stays in place as he makes his way to your lips. You didn’t plan on starting anything—he’s too sleepy and too drunk, but you always want him, and you need to kiss him. You need to get your hands under his shirt and touch his warm skin. So you might start something.

Seungmin giggles again as your fingertips graze him…they run slowly up his side and over his ribs. The laugh turns to a moan, soft, and suddenly very needy, when your thumb circles his stiff nipple. If you had any intention of just getting him safely into bed, it’s now gone. The only thing on your mind is the look in his eyes. And all that matters is how good you can make him feel tonight.

He pouts, moves his hips. “Mhm…I do,” it comes out in another moan, needy and whiny again. Full of want. Maybe your touch is enough to sober him up. “I love you,” he says it again, eyes carefully watching his hand move up your thigh. “I love the way you love me.”

That last part…he says it so quietly you almost don’t catch it. You want to hear it again, though, so you lift his chin and look at him. “What did you say?”

A blush forms over his cheeks and on his ears. He licks his lips and bites down on it, eyes grow bigger, “uhm…I said—“ he stops short and smiles. Shyness is taking over again.

Instead of forcing it back out of him, you decide to show him more of how you love him. You lean forward and kiss him softly. Show him just how much. Both hands slide up his stomach and chest until he’s relieved of his shirt. Your lips close around him, tongue slides slowly over his nipple until he groans. How much you need and love to take care of him. You squeeze his hip, his thigh, sneak your hand between his legs and feel every soft inch of him through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Sorry,” he squeaks out between kisses, “sorry…too much—“

You shut him up with your mouth and shake your head, “it’s okay, pup, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

And how much you love the way he loves you.

His eyes are open and unsure as you kiss him. Seungmin has never had a problem getting hard before, and he’s feeling self-conscious, nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. When you open yours and stare back at him, he lets go… “I want you,” he starts, and you kiss him again.

“You have me, and we have all week. I’m just happy I have you here right now, so let me have you.”

Seungmin relaxes—as much as he can manage—and lets you kiss with no protest.

You work slowly, leaving loud, wet kisses all over him; the soft spot underneath his chin, his throat. It tickles, and he stifles his laugh, so you move even slower across his jaw until you can bite his earlobe.

“…feels good,” he sighs.

“Why don’t we get into bed…” you pull back, push the hair away from his forehead, and kiss there.

“Mhmm…”

“I’ll light some candles, turn off all the lights…and give you a nice massage, wherever you need it.”

Seungmin nods, “everywhere.”

“Okay…everywhere.”

#kim seungmin #skz seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fanfic #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #☾ blind date

[sugrhigh]

BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #drummer!matt #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #band au #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

#i love like genuinely painfully oblivious keith the autism is strong in this one #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #pre klance #pining lance #oblivious keith #s1 #ish #rivals to lovers #rivals to nothing really #keith is a little shit #my writing #longpost #pining keith #but he’s too up his own ass to realise lol #autistic keith #brown eyed lance

[unfinishedslurs]

RIP Mike Wheeler’s heterosexuality

“Is being gay contagious?”

Steve stares at his phone groggily before putting it back against his ear. “…Mike?”

“Is it?”

“It’s three in the fuckin’ morning is what it is.” He rubs his nose, Mike’s words finally catching up to his brain. “Seriously, Mike? No it’s not fucking contagious, you’re not gonna get the gay disease or whatever from me. I promise you’ll keep liking girls.”

He’s a little hurt, even though he knows the question is innocent. They’ve been asking a lot of questions, like the inquisitive little assholes they are, but none of them had seemed like they weren’t okay with it. Until now.

“…that’s not what I meant,” Mike says. Steve realizes that his voice sounds shaky, even over the phone.

“Then what—“ he cuts himself off, realizing halfway through his bitching that there was only one reason Mike would call about this. “Oh.”

“Can you pick me up?”

“It’s three in the morning,” he repeats, even as he starts wondering where he left his keys. “Your mom…”

“Steve,” Mike pleads. “Please?”

He sighs. “I’m on my way.”

Mike is sitting on his doorstep when he pulls up, head in his hands. Steve doesn’t have to get out of the car, he stalks to the passenger door with all the vitriol of a boy with too many emotions to hold in, and wrenches the door open hard enough that Steve worries he’s going to break it.

“Watch it, noodle arms,” he says, trying to pretend this is normal. Maybe if he acts like it’s not well past midnight, Mike will relax.

It doesn’t work. Mike slumps in his seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. “Can you just drive?”

Steve drives. Doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. Just away seems to suffice.

He eventually pulls into a side road

“I’m scared to even touch another guy now! Because apparently hugging is gay when you’re older, and so is sleeping in the same bed, and telling your friends you love them, and…and I’m fucking scared all the time, ‘cause what if they’re right? How do they know? How can they tell by just fucking looking at me? It’s bullshit!”

“Shit, kid,” Steve says, heartbroken. “Shit. C’mere.”

He pulls him close, and Mike turns his face into the crook of his neck, shaking. His shirt collar starts to get damp.

“I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I thought it was normal, I thought everyone was just…so scared all the time, and we just didn’t talk about it. But then you said that thing about being afraid and pushing it down, and I didn’t— I tried to ignore it. I tried so hard not to think about it, Steve, I swear I tried.”

“I know you did,” he says quietly. It hits him that he might be the only one who really gets it. Eddie gave up denying it long ago, deciding to evolve into something else for them to focus on. Robin’s a girl. Which doesn’t mean jack shit in most cases, because being a lesbian fucking sucks in a town like Hawkins, but girls aren’t as obsessive about it. Sometimes when they compare notes, Robin will just stare at him.

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve says with a surprising amount of vehemence. He grabs Mike by his scrawny little shoulders, pulls him away so he can look directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Not a damn thing, do you hear me? There is nothing wrong with you, and anyone who tells you otherwise deserves a swift kick in the balls. Got it?”

Mike responds by bursting into loud, messy sobs.

Steve just keeps holding him, running a hand through his hair and soothing him gently, like he wishes someone had done for him or Robin or Eddie when they were young. Finally Mike pulls away, embarrassment starting to set in.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asks instead of a meaningless platitude he knows Mike wouldn’t accept.

Mike gives him a suspicious look. “I guess.”

“I’m scared too. All the time.”

“No you’re not,” Mike snorts. “You don’t need to make me feel better just because I’m a pussy.”

“I’m not joking,” he says. “Why do you think I dated girls? Why do you think I went through so many lengths to hide it? It’s fucking terrifying, man. But you know what makes it less scary?”

“Dating girls? Marrying a woman?”

“No.” He pokes Mike’s chest, right over his heart. “People. Friends who love and accept you. Friends who know what you’re going through, even.”

“Do you…” Mike chews his lip. “Do you think Nancy would be okay with it? With me?”

“Absolutely I do. She was okay with me, wasn’t she? And I was her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your family, right? Sometimes people don’t care if someone is… people don’t care until it affects them. Do you think Nancy is like that?”

He knows Nancy isn’t like that, but that's a talk they’re going to have to have themselves. “I really don’t,” he encourages. “I think she’d be really glad to know this part of you, actually. She loves you.”

“…I know,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t… we made this dumb no secrets pact the first time the Upside-Down happened, I don’t know why. It’s stupid. But…I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore.”

#stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #mike wheeler #lavender overload au #this is part of my finished fic where Steve and Robin get married #Mike can be read as gay or bi here #Mike and Steve is an underrated dynamic and I love them being friends #‘oh but mike hates steve-‘ WRONG. mike hates that he wants his sisters dumb idiot ex boyfriends approval #like don’t get me wrong I do think he hated Steve at one point #but after he protected them from Billy I think it went out the window #and now he begrudgingly thinks steve is cool. and HATES it #the funniest moment in all of stranger things is when Steve called Mike Nancy while concussed #and Mike gave him the most disgusted insulted face imaginable #i laughed so hard

[inklore]

whispering "i love you" to your "lover" while they're asleep because you're not sure if they feel the same way but you really needed to tell them that

this screams Jordan pretending to be asleep and accidentally hearing reader confess her feelings

Only they actually love reader as well

THREE LITTLE WORDS.

pairing: jordan li x (f)reader

contents: established relationship, love confession, nothing but fluff with angst, jordan being love sick.

note: thinking about them in love and happy makes me cry ok!!

It actually stops their heart. Like their body is cemented beside you, forgotten how to function properly.

Air stunts in their lungs—that haze that flows through ones brain as they’re trying to fall asleep, swept away by your words. 

“I love you.” 

A brush of a thumb against their cheek, a touch that they want to lean into, that they want to press their lips to, but their body refuses to let them. Brain refuses to work the way it’s meant to to have them open their eyes and stare back into the ones they know are looking at them.

Even when there’s rustling and you’re turning over on your side, your back snuggly pressed to their front. The smell of your shampoo brings them back to some kind of reality that doesn’t have their lungs deflating. 

You completely filling their lungs. The synapses in their brain finally sparking to life. Finally, letting air move through their chest as they breathe in and out slowly. 

Their heart following suit and beating rapidly and heavily in their chest. 

Their eyes opening, the back of your head a solace in this moment,

This moment where they don’t know what to do.

To say.

To act. 

“I love you.”

You love them. 

And fuck, of course they love you too. The longer they think about it, the longer their heart pounds in their chest, and the more images of your smile, your laugh, the way you feel beneath their fingertips flash in their mind.

They’ve loved you for a long fucking time.

Longer than they're even sure they’ve allowed themselves to grapple with. To overthink, to wonder, and to worry if you’d ever love them too. In the same way. With your entire heart, like you can’t breathe or think straight unless you know you have them—that's the way they feel about you. That’s the way they know they love you.

They've been completely enamored by you since day one, as silly and cliche as it sounds. Even with strains of hookups with other people. The two of you skirting around each other. Like fate was patiently waiting to push you two together at the right moment—a moment that would feel like a volcano bursting. 

Sparks, stars, explosions. 

They’re so sick with affection and love for you that their chest hurts. 

Any insecurity that has plagued their mind with how you felt about them, how you viewed them, has always been kissed away. Smiled away with reassurances and words.

You were an anchor to their loud mind. 

Support they’ve been craving and finally have.

But they still can’t say it back right now. Can’t pull you closer and whisper it against your ear or your lips. 

You thought they were asleep; they weren’t meant to hear it. 

There’s a fight in their brain as they debate if you really mean it or if you just said it to test it out and don’t actually like the way it feels.

Sounds.

But when they wake the next morning, their overthinking finally lolling them to sleep after hours of tossing and turning—when their eyes meet your sleepy ones, when you give them that groggy smile, they can’t help it.

They need to say it.

Need to tell you, or they might fucking burst.

“I love you too.” 

#jordan li fluff #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li fic #jordan li imagine #gen v x reader #gen v fic #jordan li x y/n #gen v imagine #gen v fanfiction #ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ blurb night