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#really happy with how this one turned out :)
kenntolog · 2 days
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….. what if sukuna steals you’re phone while you’re scrolling on it and you magically pull a book out from behind your back because you predicted him to do that……
Bonus if he takes that too and closes it without a bookmark as he watches the smirk leave your face
an: hey anon!! sorry for the delay, hope u enjoy this :)) read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
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one thing that never fails to piss sukuna off if when people, specifically you, ignore him.
at first, whenever you start ignoring him — usually because he’s been too mean with his comments or behaviour towards you or has done something to make you really mad — his tactic is to just ignore you back. but that’s boring, sukuna gets bored so easily that he realises how pathetic he actually is. he even finds silence with you not boring. he could sleep on your chest at least.
so then, sukuna tries to woo you with affection; he kisses up your arms and call you his baby, his pretty girl and his one and only woman, he shoves his head between your arms and chest to kiss your face and not let you watch whatever the fuck you are watching on your phone(or reading, maybe even drawing). that usually is enough to melt the ice and say something resembling apologies.
if that doesn’t work, then it’s time for heavy artillery — he just takes your phone, throwing it away somewhere with no care and watches the way your unmoving features turn shocked and you finally talk to him(start complaining until he shuts you up with a kiss).
this time you seem to be prepared because when he takes your phone you pull out a damn book from under your pillow.
“what the hell?” sukuna curses at you, frowning when he notices the confident curve of your lips as you indulge yourself once again.
so after another period of silence he just rips the book out of your hand. at that you just stare at him, still stonefaced, just a curious brow raised.
that is until sukuna flips through the pages and closes the book quickly, letting the bookmark fall off somewhere, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of your smirk immediately disappearing.
“sukuna!”
he continues cackling like a maniac, clearly enjoying the bewilderment of your tone and happy that you finally talked to him.
“you’re such an ass,” you grumble, taking the book from him and frantically looking through pages to find the one you were reading last. “who even does that? that’s pure evil.”
he watches you with a sickly satisfied smile on his pleased face and takes the book away from once again, this time minding the bookmark you placed. sukuna wraps his arms around you tightly, bringing you to his chest.
“shouldn’t have ignored me for so long, loser, y’know i hate it.”
“that’s why i did it.”
“i will burn your book.”
you look up at him with a scared expression, suspecting that he might just really do that if you carry on, and he just continues smiling down at you like nothing happened. leaning down to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, sukuna finally feels you give into his touch, relaxing in his hold as you start rambling(complaining) about him being mean while he just dismisses everything you say, your soft voice lulling him to sleep.
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
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You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.
“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”
“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”
You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”
“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”
You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”
In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.
You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”
Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.
Two Years Ago…
“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.
“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.
“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.
“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.
“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.
“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.
“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.
“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 
“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”
He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.
“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.
“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 
The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.
“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.
“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”
You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 
“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 
Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 
“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”
You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.
“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”
Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.
“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.
With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.
“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.
You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.
He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.
“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”
He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.
Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”
He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.
You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”
His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 
“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”
“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 
“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.
“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 
“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”
With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.�� With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 
“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 
 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.
“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.
“I love it,” You answered.
“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.
“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.
He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 
“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 
The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.
Now…
Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 
“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 
Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.
You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.
Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.
Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.
“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.
Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 
A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”
“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”
“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 
“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”
Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.
“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.
You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.
“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.
Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.
“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”
The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.
“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”
He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.
Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 
You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.
You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.
“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.
“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.
“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.
“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.
“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”
“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”
You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”
“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.
“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”
It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”
There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.
“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 
“What happened to you, Rafe?”
“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”
You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.
You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,
“I hate your hair.”
And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.
(chapter 3)
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a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts
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candylix · 3 days
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one little lie | hyung line (part 2)
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Pairing • FWB!Minho x Fem!Reader x Hyung Line
A/N • This is part 2 (of 3) of the fic! You can read the first part here.
Summary • The boys have one rule in their shared apartment. Don't bring girls over for sex. So when Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin walk in on Minho fucking the living daylights out of you in the living room, he has to lie to save his own skin. His excuse? That's not a girl under him... you're a sex robot. And now they all want to try you out.
Genre • smut, sci-fi ish? (sex robots are a thing in this world that people know about and use)
WC • 3.1k
Content • reader pretends to be a sex robot, free use, dubcon, groping, nipple play, boob sex, orgasm denial, edging, riding, daddy kink, threesome, tiny bit of overstim, Minho discovers he's really into watching you get fucked by other people.
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Minho walks you out of the bathroom, and you head to Hyunjin's room. You're walking through his apartment naked, about to be handed off to his roommate for sex, and somehow you're more okay with it than you were earlier. Minho knocks on Hyunjin's bedroom door, and when it swings open to reveal a gorgeous man wearing only his boxers, you can feel you core start to throb in anticipation.
"Thank you for the delivery," Hyunjin says. He grabs your shoulders to pull you towards him, but Minho doesn't let go.
"Be careful with her, she's still sensitive after Changbin."
Hyunjin pauses at that statement.
"How can she be sensitive, she's a robot," he asks, and Minho tuts at him.
"I told you, she's very realistic. I couldn't even clean her up without her twitching every time I touched her."
Literally not true, but you couldn't complain out loud.
"I promise I'll be gentle. Happy?" he says, and Minho rolls his eyes.
He pulls your body towards him, and Minho reluctantly gives you away to him. He buries your face in his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso, and drags you away to his bed. Hyunjin looks back to his door, where Minho is still waiting.
"Are you planning on standing there? Close the door."
"Oh, right," he says, and hits his hand on the door frame before grabbing the handle to close the door.
His bed is in the corner of the room, and he props you up against a wall. You sit on his bed in front of him, and he admires your body.
"This is so fucking realistic, holy shit."
He spreads your legs, and takes a seat between them. His eyes are glued to your chest. He takes your boobs in his hands, weighing them, and then bouncing them. He plays with your tits, squeezing, pulling, pushing them together, pinching your nipples, exploring everything he can do with them. He's like a kid in a candy shop, if the kid was a grown man and the candy was your boobs.
Finally, he brings his mouth to one of your nipples, and you feel his tongue lick circles around it and over it until it's erect. He lightly bites it, and you yelp.
"Oh, that gets you vocal, huh? Interesting."
He goes back to teasing your nipple, licking and nipping, experimenting with what else causes you to make noise. He fondles one of your boobs with his hand while sucking on the opposite nipple, and he finally gets you to let out a quiet moan. Satisfied with himself, he turns to move.
He hops off the bed, and as he pulls down his boxers, you get a full view of his dick. It's not as thick as Changbin's, but it's long. You can feel yourself leaking from the sight of it.
He steps back to the bed, and lays you flat on your back. He climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, and lies down on top of you, burying his face into your chest. His long dick presses against your core, throbbing against you as he gropes your breasts. You whimper at the contact. You want nothing more than for him to start already. You can feel him stiffen up as he fondles you, and his body starts mindlessly rocking. His dick drag itself over your pussy as he rocks, and he pinches your nipples, earning another yelp from you.
He suddenly stops, and grabs your wrists. He lifts your arms up to your chest, and places your hands on your boobs to push them together. He lets go of you, and when your hands stay where they are, he smiles.
"Whoa, that worked."
He snuggles into your tits for a while, feeling how soft you were under him. When he's done, he moves his body, and you feel his dick slide away from your pussy. He straddles your stomach, and positions his cock between your tits. He slides it in, and you feel how hard he is already. Your boobs wrap around his dick, and it throbs inside your soft mounds. He hovers over you, with his arms on either side of your head as he holds himself up.
With a steady roll of his hips, he moans softly as he thrusts his long cock into you, the tip poking out the other side before getting sucked back in. He slowly rocks into you, feeling the way his stiff cock drags against your plush flesh. He wants to feel every inch of himself between your boobs, and he watches as they jiggle with every thrust.
His arousal grows at the sight, and he groans as he rocks into you faster. You press your boobs together harder, fully enveloping his dick and overwhelming his senses with the increased pressure.
"Fuck," he moans, and bucks into you desperately.
Your entire body rocks under him as he fucks your tits faster, humping your chest with all his energy. The movement of your body under him and his loud moans has your core pulsing intensely, and you want nothing more than to have him thrusting inside your pussy. You can't even touch yourself with him on top of you like this, with your hands busy holding together your boobs while he fucks them. The entire bed rocks with him, creaking louder with every thrust.
A string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' escapes his lips each time his dick buries itself into your tits, getting louder as the feeling builds.
Your boobs push and pull against you, bouncing in rhythm with his hard cock as it grinds against your chest. He moans louder as he feels his orgasm coming, and he increases the speed of his humping, which only shakes your boobs harder. A groan slips out of you at the sensation, and the sound takes him over the edge.
With a loud moan, his cum splatters across your chest and onto your neck as he reaches his climax. The creaks of the bed get quieter as he slows down, and his rocking gets softer and softer as he rides out his high. He finally finishes, and he pulls out his dick from between your breasts.
He doesn't pull your hands away, though, and lays down on top of you, his face buried in your chest. His thigh sits in between your legs, pressing against your bare cunt. You want to hump into him, feel anything to relieve yourself. You're wet, pulsing, and can't do anything about it.
Finally, he rolls off of you, panting in exhaustion.
"Shit, I forgot to set my name," he says, and you desperately wish he remembered so he could stuff his long cock into you. "Next time."
You don't want him to do it next time, you want him to do it now.
But you can't tell him that, and can't touch yourself, so you're left entirely at the whims of the man breathing heavily beside you.
"God," he says, in between breaths, "that was fun." His hand is back on your boob, kneading it softly. "I can't give you back to Jisung."
He fondles you, rubbing your nipple with his index finger. You're so sensitive that the slightest touch makes you whimper, which only makes him want to touch it more. After a few excruciating minutes of Hyunjin unknowingly edging you, you hear hard knocking at his door.
"Hyunjin, give her back!" Minho yells.
"No!" Hyunjin yells back, and Minho barges into the room. He sees Hyunjin, naked and playing with your boob, and he feels the same way as when he saw you leaking on Changbin's bed— arousal. And he has no idea why. Hyunjin quickly sits up to cover himself with a pillow, and you're finally released from his grasp.
"You can't just come in here!" Hyunjin says, but Minho ignores him, and walks over to the bed. He looks to the cum stain on your chest, and it's hard not to notice his bulge growing.
"Yes I can. You didn't even lock the door," he says, ignoring the throbbing in his pants.
He pulls you up off the bed, and Hyunjin just huffs in disappointment, but doesn't stop Minho from taking you away. You walk back to the bathroom, which has now become your refuge, and the only place you can actually talk. Minho is already wiping your neck before you can even sit down.
"Two down, one to go. How're you feeling? Was he gentle?"
Hyunjin didn't touch your aching core, so you were feeling extremely needy and not entirely of sound mind.
"Worse than gentle. If I don't get something in me right now, I might explode," you say. You don't even care how insane you sound at this point.
You reach for the zipper of Minho's pants and pull it down, but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further.
"Whoa, slow down. Save that for Chan."
"Minho, please," you whine. He's still holding you, so you can't even touch yourself to relieve the ache.
"Wait just a little bit longer."
You pout at his command, but comply. You resist the growing urge to hump his leg. He holds both your wrists in one hand, while the other wipes the rest of the cum off your collarbone and chest. He takes his time with it, and you think he's going intentionally slow just to mess with you.
"See, that wasn't so bad, right?" he says, finally finished cleaning you up. "Now we can go see Chan."
He opens the door, and walks you back to the living room where Chan is waiting. Neither Changbin nor Hyunjin are there, so you assume they're still recovering in their rooms.
Chan stands up when he sees you walk in.
"I'll help you bring her to my room," he says, and he and Minho take you to your last destination.
"Where are we putting her?" Minho asks, and Chan hesitates.
"Actually... do you know if she can... ride people?" he says bashfully.
Minho looks at you, but you give no visible response. Not that you'd be able to.
"I don't know... probably not. She'd need help moving on you."
"Oh..." Chan says, looking defeated. "I guess we can just put her on my bed."
"Wait-" Minho interjects. His mouth is faster than his brain. "I could help you."
"What?"
"Like... with having her ride you. I can help."
Chan's face goes red.
"But that would mean having you watch me."
"That's not a big deal, right? Just bros helping bros. You want her to ride you, and I'll get her to do it."
Chan stares at him for a moment, debating in his mind if he wants this or not.
"Ok," he finally responds, "just bros helping bros."
Chan sits down on his office chair, and slides off his sweatpants and briefs. Minho moves you in front of him while Chan jerks himself off, just enough to get hard. His dick is big and leaking precum, and you're excited to have it inside you. You'd be excited to have anything inside you at this moment, but Chan looks tantalizing, sitting there with his hard cock out, just for you. He holds up his dick, waiting for you to sit on him.
"Remember to set your name when you're inside her," Minho reminds him.
"Right."
He lowers you down onto Chan, and you're finally about to get some relief. You're still extremely wet from your last encounter, so you slide onto him easily. He groans at the overflowing juices surrounding his cock, and how easily he's able to get himself inside you. He quickly fills you up, and he hits a sensitive bundle of nerves. You want to bounce on him, feel him hit that spot again and again, but you know you aren't allowed to move until Minho moves you. It's agonizing.
"Daddy," Chan says, surprising you and Minho both.
"Daddy," you moan, and you feel his dick throb at the sound of your voice.
"Daddy?" Minho asks. "I didn't know you were into that."
"Are you here to assist or make commentary?" Chan says, annoyed at his interruption.
"Sorry," Minho says, and stops talking.
Chan lifts up your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders, and lays his own on the armrests of his chair. Minho grabs your ass, and lifts you slightly. You feel Chan's cock slipping out of you, and you clench at the slow loss of contact, making Chan groan. Then Minho drops you back on his lap, and his dick spears your sensitive spot, causing you to moan loudly. You're finally getting the relief you've been whining about. Minho picks you up again, lifting you up and down on Chan's cock, and Chan's knuckles turn white as he grips the armrests.
You have no control over the pace of your bouncing, relying on Minho to lift you up and lower you down. But he does a good job, and every time Chan fills you up, your impending orgasm comes closer.
"Faster," Chan moans, and Minho picks up speed. He slides you down faster on Chan's dick, and it hits the right spot particularly hard.
"Daddy," you moan, and Chan's head goes back. He rolls his hips into you, increasing the impact against your pussy. His dick forces his way into you, and he's thick enough to rub against all of your walls as he penetrates you harder and harder. You can't help but to buck your hips into him, lifting yourself up and into him.
Minho doesn't have to do much now, you're moving all on your own, and Chan is too fucked out to notice, but he keeps his hands on your ass to sell it anyway. He leans his hips closer to you, and you feel his dick press against your ass as you bounce on Chan. You rub into him, and Minho moans against the friction.
You're very close now. You yell out 'daddy' with every thrust he makes into you, and Chan is a moaning mess on the chair. He can barely keep his eyes open anymore. The pleasure takes over his mind, and he bucks into you faster, completely uncoordinated with the pace of your bouncing. His thrusts penetrate you at erratic intervals, causing you to moan louder every time his cock buries itself fully in you. You can't think straight anymore, all you can do is submit to the feeling and yell out 'daddy' over and over again.
The only one still functioning is Minho, who's extremely turned on watching you fuck yourself on Chan's massive cock. He wished he could see the expression on your face every time Chan's dick rams into you, but hearing you loudly moaning is enough to know you're loving it. He's still grinding himself against your ass, and he can feel his own orgasm coming. But he knows if he cums now, he wont be able to hold you up and watch you cum on Chan's lap, so he stands back away from you. His dick throbs in his pants, but he knows he'll relieve himself later.
Chan continues bucking into you at an erratic pace, and every time his dick bottoms you out, you moan louder. You can feel your orgasm coming, and with one last thrust into your g-spot, you reach your climax.
"Daddy," you moan, clenching your walls against him, and a wave of liquid flushes out of you, drenching his cock with your cum.
"Oh my god," he moans out, feeling your juices spurt out of your pussy and onto his body. He grabs your hips, and rams into you harder, not letting you have a moment of rest as you come down from your high. His pace is unrelenting, and you spasm on his body as he thrusts into you. You hold onto his shoulder, trying to keep yourself up. He doesn't stop, and Minho helps him bounce you faster on his throbbing cock. The feeling overwhelms you, and you can't control your moans as he slams his dick into your sensitive cunt.
His own climax finally comes, and white hot liquid fills your pussy as he finally slows down. Minho's gently lowers you down, holding your ass as he hovers you over Chan's lap. Chan keeps humping into you, thrusts getting weaker as he rides out his high. Finally, he stops, and Minho lowers you down completely on him. Chan bottoms you out, but you're both too tired to do anything more. Chan leans back on his chair, and you lean back onto Minho.
"Fuck," is all Chan manages to say.
Minho begins to lift you up, and the movement of Chan's dick slipping out of you causes you to twitch, while Chan groans. He lifts you up completely, and your legs feel like jelly. Luckily, Minho is there to keep you standing.
He helps you walk, using considerably more effort than before. Before you leave, Chan calls out to him.
"Thanks... that was amazing."
Minho gives him an awkward thumbs up, and you both leave the room.
You collapse onto the toilet seat when you arrive at the bathroom.
"I'm gonna go get your clothes. You... catch your breath."
You can only nod in response, too tired to speak, and he leaves you there.
You can feel your mind clear, and your pussy leak with Chan's cum.
It's done. Minho's roommates have all fucked you, used you the way they wanted. Jisung would be here soon, and you could finally leave this all behind. You no longer had to pretend to be a sex robot.
So why did you feel disappointed?
The door opens, and Minho has your clothes in hand, and a visible erection in his pants.
You snicker at him.
"I didn't know you were into cucking, Minho."
"What? No I'm not."
"You literally volunteered to help Chan fuck me."
His cheeks go red, and he can't look you in the eye.
"W-well, you seemed to like having them fuck you like a sex doll."
"I was just acting," you say, and this time it's your turn to blush at his accusation.
"Was it acting when you were screaming Changbin's name? Or when you were moaning daddy, daddy-"
"Ok! Stop!" you say, waving your arms to get him to stop talking. "We both discovered something about ourselves today."
"I guess we did," he responds, and places your clothes on the counter. He uses a fresh towel to wipe you down, and you get dressed.
"Jisung should be here any second," Minho says.
One last time, he opens the bathroom door, and walks you out.
read part 3 here
taglist:
@loeyscock @0325tiny @5starlee @miupow @mapofthemazeinthemirror @sadrosessing @luminouskalopsia @minghaosimp @curiousgworge @azuna-sz @piscesrising01 @g-bbzz @extrhotjne @nabi-tokoshi @weareapackofstrays
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woso-dreamzzz · 22 hours
Text
Firsts V
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first steps
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There's something about your little family that makes Magda feel soft.
She isn't soft. Not really.
She's one of the best defenders in the world. She's intimidating and scary and people falter when she glared at them.
But here, in Germany, she isn't any of those things.
In Germany, she's lying on the sofa with Pernille on top of her, trading soft kisses while something random plays on the tv. You're sitting in front of them, banging some blocks together aimlessly.
You babble some half-words and Magda knows that you're very close to forming your first words soon. You grunt a little bit before deciding to taste your blocks.
Magda laughs. "Does that wood taste nice?" She teases and you turn to look at her.
You grunt at her again, before throwing your block over to where your girl-swan and girl-moose are sat further away.
"Oh!" Magda says," Did it not taste nice then?"
You hum, shuffling across the floor to where your stuffed animals await you.
Magda winces. "Does she have to do that?"
You shuffle more furiously on your bum to your other toys.
"She's happy," Pernille laughs.
"But..." Magda watches as you smash your moose and swan together. "She can crawl..."
"And she wants to bum shuffle," Pernille replies," She can crawl and she can bum shuffle. She tends to crawl more at training."
Magda pouts, something truly pathetic for such an intimidating Chelsea player to have on her face. "I want to see her crawl too."
She doesn't get to see you crawl often. When she comes over to Germany, you like to be carried and when you're put down, all you seem to do is bum shuffle your away around the apartment.
You giggle from across the room as you smash your toys together again.
"She's being violent, Pernille," Magda says.
"She's making them kiss," Pernille replies, glancing over at you.
"Really?"
"Yes," Pernille assures her with a little laugh," Princesse!"
You turn to look at her, halting your playing.
"Can you show me how your toys kiss?"
Your head bobs up and down and you smash your toys together again.
"Good job, princesse!" She says before grinning at Magda. "See, she's just aggressively affectionate."
"Aggressively affectionate?" Magda laughs," Is that we're calling it?"
"I think it's sweet."
Magda rolls her eyes, dipping her head down to press her lips against Pernille's. Pernille kisses back until suddenly they're trading lazy pecks back and forth as they cuddle together.
You turn your head to look at them both.
Whenever Morsa comes to visit, she's very cuddly with you and Momma. Today is no different.
She flew in last night when you were already asleep so today is a calm day at home. That's what usually happens.
The day after Morsa flies in, there's a chill day where you do nothing but stay at home and then the day after, you will all go out and do something together.
Most of the time it's the park and Morsa will push you on the swings and help you feed the ducks.
But that's for tomorrow.
Today is for kisses and snuggles.
Momma and Morsa have gotten started without you. That was okay at first when you were still playing with your toys but you're done now and want to be included.
You whine a little but neither notice you.
With Morsa home, you don't really need to use your legs because she likes to carry you everywhere.
You raise your arms for uppies but no one comes for you.
You huff.
You don't want to have to shuffle over because it makes a silly noise and you would prefer to be picked up.
It's a little annoying and you force yourself to your feet.
You've stood before at training, holding Caro's hands even as she glanced around the room in horror at being responsible for you.
So, you've had practice at standing so you stand now.
Momma and Morsa are still taking up all your kisses.
You want kisses too.
One foot comes down in front of the other until you're standing in front of them both.
Somewhere along the way, they've stopped kissing to watch but you're just very happy to get your own cuddles and kisses to really care.
"Did she just...?"
"Yeah." Magda's face splits into a grin. "Look at you, princesse!" She grabs you, fluidly pulling you into her arms. "Walking already!"
Kisses are littered over your face and you giggle, kicking out your little legs in happiness.
Pernille stays frozen for a while before she's taking you from Magda's arms and placing you back down further away.
You frown.
You're pretty sure you've already earnt your kisses.
"Come on," Pernille says to you, a camera in one hand," Do it again. Do it again, princesse!"
You place one shaky leg in front of the other as you toddle right back into her arms.
"Look at you," She coos," Such a big girl."
"I think this calls for cake," Magda says and you perk up.
You know that word.
"You want cake?"
Your head bobs up and down.
"Let's get cake."
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dearlyjun · 3 days
Text
CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol
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☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)
☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)
☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?
☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k
☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!
☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.
BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!
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You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.
“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.
“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.
Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.
“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.
You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”
Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”
“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”
Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”
You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.
“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”
“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.
“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.
“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.
“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.
“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.
“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.
“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”
You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.
Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”
“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“
Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.
“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”
You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”
“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”
“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”
Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”
You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.
“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.
“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.
“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”
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“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”
Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.
Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.
“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.
“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”
You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.
Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.
You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.
“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.
“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.
Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.
“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.
He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.
Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.
“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.
“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.
You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.
“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.
“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.
You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.
“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.
“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.
You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.
“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.
“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.
“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”
The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.
“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.
Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.
“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.
“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.
The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.
“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.
He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”
You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”
Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”
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☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
Note
Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)
hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo
warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy
18+ (smut)
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Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 
So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 
“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 
“Hm?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 
“Why not?” 
“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 
“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”
You pout as if he can see you.
“But I like playing with your hair.”
Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 
“One or the other. You can’t have both.”
“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”
The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 
“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”
“What?”
It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 
“What what?”
“You didn’t consult me!”
The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 
“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”
“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”
“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”
“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”
“Your birthday’s not even—”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”
He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 
“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”
“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”
You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 
“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”
He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 
“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”
“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 
“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 
For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 
“Feels good?”
“Mhm,” you breathe. 
“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”
“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  
“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”
You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 
A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 
His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 
“Relax. I’ll come to you.”
You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 
“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 
“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 
“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”
Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 
“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”
“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”
The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 
“I bet you think that’s true.”
“It is!” you whine. 
“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”
“That did not happen.”
“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”
You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 
“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 
“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 
Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 
“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”
It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 
Maybe even especially then. 
The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 
You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 
Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 
“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”
He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.
The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 
When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 
But he likes those ones just fine, too.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”
The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 
At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 
“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”
But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 
“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 
You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 
Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 
“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  
Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 
“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”
He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 
“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”
You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 
“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”
“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 
“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”
“For what?” He snorts. 
You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 
“Handles! Duh!”
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animehideout · 2 days
Note
idk if u are taking requests but I thought about “jjk men reacting to a s/o with tramp stamp” … if u did it would be nice …
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JJK men reacting to tramp stamp
A/N: Hello, thanks for your request, I hope you like it <3 well here the reader is not necessarily s/o but reader and jjk men have feelings for each other.
Warning: hmm kinda smut ❤️‍🔥 ??
Gojo Satoru : At Prom Party.
It was prom party that night at Jujutsu High, teachers were also allowed to attend, and you were one of the new teachers who joined this year. So your secret admirer and co-worker Gojo Satoru seized the opportunity and found it fit to invite you to go to prom with him, as two young and beautiful teachers. Since all of you live in Jujutsu High dormitory, you were already in the middle of the party ground, and no need for Gojo to pick you up from your room.
Satoru mingled through the prom, wearing am expensive and elegant black suit, he was searching for you and then found you with your girl students, all of you dressed in cute dresses. Satoru's eyes widened. He wasn't used to you wearing dresses, you've always been clad in your teaching uniform or something sporty. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you in a sleek low-back dress, you looked really stunning and sexy, outshining everyone there. He took a moment to admire you from afar, then started walking towards but boy stopped mid way when you suddenly turned around to greet Itadori, the intricate design of the tramp stamp tattoo that's briefly visible above the edge of your dress caught Gojo's eyes and took his breath away. For a split second, his expression flickered with surprise. His gaze lingering on your lower back, trying to see the details of your tattoo, but soon you turned again and he's left with replaying that hidden and unexpected glimpse of rebellion in his mind. He'd walk over to you and try to stay composed.
Each time you turn around or something he tried to peek without appearing like a creep, but he desperately wanted to see it up close and maybe trace it with his long fingers. Even though he was surprised, he actually liked it and it made you look even more badass and he loves that. You'd notice how he was acting really awkward and weird, you thought he hated the party or something but truth is he couldn't stop thinking and envisioning his hands tracing your inked lower back so delicately, admiring and taking into the details of that tramp stamp of yours. You'd ask him if he's okay and he'll just blurt it out . He was so done and wanted to see it real bad.
" I noticed you've got a tattoo! I didn't know you're into tattoos "
"Oh this one?" you'd say and turn around giving him a better and clear display.
He'd gulp. His heart hammering against his ribcage at the beautiful sight, the tattoo, your well defined back, the way the dress was looking gorgeous from behind, he couldn't help but fall deep for you, he found you more and more irresistible.
"Wow I wanna touch it– holy shit sorry, I'm not a pervert!!! " he started explaining when he realized he voiced his deepest desires.
But you'd cut him off with a visible smirk,
" Of course, but let's keep it after the party, shall we ? "
He took the hint and realized that you've got something for him as well, and now he can't wait when the party's over so he can get what he's been thinking about for the whole night.
Suguru Geto : At Tattoo Shop
Your friend Geto started a new project and opened his own tattoo and piercing shop. So you and your group of friends, Satoru and Shoko thought about paying him a visit and support him. The shop screams Geto, it's literally his vibe, black and grey wallpaper, and electric guitar hanging on the wall, the scent of his cologne taking over the whole space, making it more inviting. You've always liked the way he smells tho.
Suguru got really happy when you arrived, he appreciated your support for his business, but more importantly cuz you were there. Shoko was getting a new piercing and you thought about getting a small design right under your collarbone. He was too excited to tattoo you and maybe exchange eye contact in the process. It didn't take too long for him to get the tattoo done, the design was really small and Geto is a pro.
" So what do you think?" he asked nervously, handing you a mirror.
" Oh wow I love it Suguru, you're really good at this, good job! you never disappoint"
" You took it like a champ tho! you didn't even flinch for a first time getting tattoed, especially that area is pretty sensitive " he said proudly
you giggled and said, " Oh actually it's not my first tattoo "
" What ? and how come we don't know about that? " asked Shoko
" Um because it's hidden!"
" Care to show us miss ? Come on don't be shy now" she added,
" Ugh fine " you rolled your eyes and smiled,
You lifted your shirt a bit and slightly pushed done your pants only to show your lower back, and a beautiful tramp stamp tattoo came to display. Geto's eyes were fixated in your lower back, your soft skin and how it was decorated with a breathtaking design that made your back even more attractive. His breath hitched up in his throat, feeling more drawn to you, but at the same time jealous because someone else got to touch you there and tattoo you. He wished it was him, taking his time to design your lower back and give you that pretty pain.
" A- a tramp stamp?" he stuttered,
" Yeah I got it 2 months ago, if I knew you're planning to open up a tattoo shop I would've waited so you can tattoo me "
" Oh shoot Suguru, unlucky " teased Gojo knowing about the obvious spark between both of you.
Suguru glared at his friend, getting really upset, because he desperately wanted to be the one to ink you and not anyone else. But he couldn't help how warm the atmosphere was getting, you looked very hot.
" I'm getting more tattoos though, but now I know I'll come to you to ink me " you said wanting his hands to be on you in any possible way.
Suguru's pupils expanded, a smirk appeared on his face. He got more excited and now he can't wait for his next session with you.
" Any specific spots ? "
" I like hidden spots more " you smiled,
" Alright Shoko I guess we don't fit here anymore " exclaimed Gojo wrapping his arm around Shoko's shoulder pulling her outside with him so he can give his best friend some privacy with you.
You spent the rest of the evening, in Geto's shop, just the two of you, discussing tattoos, exchanging your mutual likings, and choosing the perfect spot that he'll ink.
You spent the rest of the evening talking about your mutual passion for tattoos, chosing what spot you'll decorate next and maybe showing him once again that beautiful tattoo, for inspiration purposes.
Choso Kamo : At The Beach
Choso's heart pounded out of hos chest as he watched the sunrise with you, it was your second date together after you officially started dating. He thought that watching the sunrise together at the beach is romantic, and man wanted to act romantic just for you. Poor baby was doing his best.
" I love this place " you said as you rested your head on his shoulder.
The water was inviting, sparkling in the sun rays, the gentle waves creating a therapeutic sound.
" Yeah, a calm place for both of us " he said, hesitantly pressing a kiss on top of your head.
He was still shy around you, very careful with his moves even though you were chill and cool around him. Trying to not rush things to not make you uncomfortable in any way.
" Should we swim ? " you suggest out of the blue with a big excited smile on your face.
" Swim? Now ? I think the water is cold now!"
" I like it cold, it's refreshing. Don't you think " you answered, your eyes shining with happiness.
" I– "
But before he could say anything, you already stripped out of your clothes, living you in your bikini. You knew you can't resist the water, so you wore your bikini in case you decided to swim.
" I came prepared " you laughed and started running to the water.
Choso froze. He didn't know how to act. He didn't expect you to easily take off your clothes, in front of him like that, his cheeks turned red like cherries. But what made him more flustered is the tattoo that was clearly visible on your lower back. Choso gasped, his heart almost jumping out of his throat. Your figure, your inked skin made it hard for him to breathe or function and now he's all red, awkward not knowing what his next move is. But he took his time to stare at your back, since he's your boyfriend and he kinda felt that he has the green light to look at you as much as he wants.
" Aren't you coming? " you asked, as you started playing with water.
He smiled at your cute behavior and built up the courage, taking off his clothes and joined you in the water. You were pretty aware that he noticed your tattoo, it was meant for him to see it and you patiently waited for him to say something. You hugged him while both of you were in the water, his hands wrapped around your waist.
" Your back.. it's so pretty ! " he whispered
" Hmm, come again? " you teased
" T-the t-tattoo on your back, it looks so p-pretty on you! I didn't know you have it " he stuttered,
" Oh thank you, I keep it hidden most of the time only for y– " you said with a shy smile.
" me, only for me to see it " he interrupted growing more confident.
" Yes Choso only for you to see it "
It turned him on, and he felt proud that you're his girlfriend and that he gets to see and touch that tattoo as much as he wants. Without hesitation this time, he crushed your lips together, taking you into a deep wet kiss, while the waves made you sway.
" And only for me to touch it " he mumbled into the kiss.
Ryomen Sukuna : One Night Stand
You've liked Sukuna for so long, but didn't have the courage to confess or even start a conversation with him, so you've always watched him from a distance completely unaware that he's actually obsessed with you. He wanted to have you so bad, he's always seen you as an innocent human being so he was very careful with the way he'd approach you, worried that he might scare you away.
One night, you went to a party to celebrate one of your friends birthday and to your luck, Sukuna was there. You didn't notice he was there, till he offered you a drink and invited you to dance with him. Both of you living the dream that you desired for months.
The sexual tension was so strong between both of you, and none of you could wait any second longer. So you left the party early to be together, under each other's touch. He took you back to his place, and all what you can do is making out, you wanted this for many months and now you can't let this opportunity to taste him slide from between your fingers. That make out session, eventually led to sex. And now both of you stripping out of your clothes. You knew Sukuna is dominant, his appearance, his attitude, his everything screams dominance and you couldn't help but submit to him.
" And now turn around princess can you do that for me ? " he said in his deep voice, sending shivers down your spine.
You did as he said, waiting for his next move. But he didn't do anything. All what you can feel is his veiny hands around your waists.
" Sukuna? " you started and looked back.
You can see his eyes fixated on your arched lower back. His eyes darkening full of admiration and lust.
" A tattoo? " he asked,
" Y-yea ? " you were confused and worried thinking that he changed his mind and didn't wanna make love to you.
" Fuck! and I thought you were innocent huh ? "
" Why? innocent girls can't have a tramp stamp? " you said teasingly,
" Damn, and I thought you can't get any hotter.. that's so rebellious of you princes, and I enjoy handling rebellious ones " he smirked and pushed you down even more.
His tattooed hands roaming your lower back, tracing your tattoo with his nails, that poking feeling making you jump slightly but he kept you still, you can feel his breath and lips on your skin, kissing your tattooed skin, making your heart race and head spin.
" Imma enjoy this pretty view while I make you scream my name "
To say the less, he gave you the best night of your life.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 days
Text
Eddie was all about desecrating corpses. 
Particularly, the huge ones--and nothing was larger than the burnt out husk of Starcourt. 
Yellow caution tape, muddied and ripped from its time in the weather still decorated parts of the doors. 
The place used to be crawling with security, but that had eased off now, the job returning to a local outfit rather than the smooth and swift guards who previously haunted the joint in pairs. 
It was easy as two days spent camped out in his van, watching the main entrance and a few side doors. In no time at all, Eddie had schedules memorized, points of entry selected and even three possible escape routes should things get dicey.
He didn't expect them to. 
Not when he’d already rolled his checks and came up with a number that, were this an actual D&D game, would make him a happy man. 
It was always a point of contention between him and his Pa. This perception. The natural ability he had that good ‘ol dad just didn’t seem to possess. 
The one that made him patient long enough to get a feel for a gig. 
To know instinctively how hard a job might be, and how to go about doing it safely. 
(Eddie personally doesn't believe much of it is talent. Thinks it is in fact, forcibly learned, due to the nature of his upbringing. 
Grandma and Grandpa Munson, bless their dead, departed souls, had at least given something of a shit. Tried to keep family things family and work things work, even when said work was illegal as it gets. 
They understood things like appearance and public reputation. 
How that kept the pigs off your back and food on your table.)
His Pa had never cared for any of that. 
Eddie didn’t grow up with family meals, or even food in the house let alone on the table. He grew up watchful, forced to learn or take a hit meant for an adult in the process. To weigh the risks against the benefits, and how to charm the pants off an unsuspecting target while doing so. 
It was how he’d escaped his own prison sentence when his Pa finally got eyes too big for his abilities.
Eddi had gotten lucky in that situation. 
Or rather--he’d gotten Wayne. 
Wayne, who gave up his own room, his own bed, for his nephew. Had bought him his sweetheart on his sixteenth birthday and a van on his eighteenth. Both things were used, and a little battered around the edges, and Eddie had almost thrown up the day he accidentally found out Wayne had used his life savings for the damn car, but they were above and beyond anything he had any right too. 
Eddie would be damned without him. 
But he knows his uncle needs help. 
Can't pay for himself and Eddie. Never really could, and so has been giving his nephew literally everything he has in an effort to make up for it until Eddie could help pay his way. 
Not that a singular soul would trust a teenage Munson with such a precious thing as a part time job, and so Eddie had turned to the familiar. 
The mall fire, and the resulting flood of federal agents had really put a damper on his income the past few months. Drugs were risky, and getting riskier with them sniffing about, and things were getting tight again in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. 
(All it had taken was finding the hidden stack of bills. 
Big ol’ words stamped in red topped every one. Bold letters screaming ‘Overdue’ and ‘Payment Missed’ and ‘Late Fees.’ 
One single letter had panicked Eddie more than any other, the one that clearly said Wayne had been talking to the payday loan place down the street, and he’d be damned if his shortcomings made his Uncle willingly walk into a debt pit so few climbed out of.) 
Growing up like he had, Eddie was trusted in certain circles. Had access to places many didn't as his sole inheritance, because he was known.
 Someone who didn't rat, who could be trusted with given tasks. Who kept to the criminal code, and was good about not backstabbing you if caught.
He’d hit up a few old connections, dropped some hints. Put out “feelers” as one might say. 
Got a nibble and soon enough, Eddie was back in business, getting called up and offered a few small tasks for decent dough. 
Sometimes it was fetching information. 
Sometimes it was ferrying an item.
Today, it was a retrieval.
There was something someone wanted in the ruins of Starcourt--and they were offering an insane amount of money to get it.  
The plans hadn't made sense, not at first. The instructions Eddie had been given sounded outlandish, if not outright total bunk. 
Like the existence of a multi level basement under Starcourt? How the hell had no one caught that being built? 
Or that the security systems down there could possibly still be turned on? After four months? 
Who was even paying for it? 
Eddie had heard stupider things though, and the pay for this little jaunt was good. Too good to pass up. 
"They want a local in case something happens and the rescue squad comes running in. That way, it's just a little trespassing fun. The town deviant getting his kicks in the big scary mall, and not what they think it is." His connection had told him, meeting with Eddie in a Mcdonalds the town over. 
The place had a play palace, big enough to host a number of screaming rugrats. It made for a great cover as they pretended to be just two men in overalls, getting burgers on their lunch. 
Not a soul could hear a sound over the kids screaming, and if a blueprint sat between them then, well, if it looks like a maintenance worker, and it talks like a maintenance worker…
People never did look twice.
"And what else exactly would they think this is?" Eddie asked, munching on the food he got for free as part of even entertaining the offer. 
"A retrieval, Double D." 
Eddie hated that nickname.
"Some rich kid bit it in the fire, and his parents are paying out top dollar to get a few of his things, seein’ as the feds wouldn’t let anybody back in after they condemned the place." The guy, whose name was Mickey said. 
He idly traced a finger along the lines of the blueprint, the path he was wanting Eddie to take. 
(The path Eddie would later ignore, on grounds that it was going to get him caught.) 
 “Specifically a signet ring and car keys.”
“Car keys?” Eddie had asked, mostly in a bid for more information. Mickey was the kind of guy you could breadcrumb into giving more information than he intended to, if one played their cards right.
And Eddie was a damn good poker player. 
“Yup. Goes to a BMW--which they want you to drive to a safe place. Parents think he lost it somewhere around,” Mickey’s finger stopped, before tapping the blueprint twice. “Here.”
Something had niggled in the back of Eddie’s head. The first whispers of recognition, of a fact that he knew something about this--something he couldn’t yet recall. 
He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it. 
“Who's the kid?” He’d asked. 
Mostly because he was curious, partially because it was a way to ease in the real questions he wanted to ask.
Like what a rich kid was doing four levels down in Starcourt the night of the fire. 
“Does it matter?” Mickey said, but dug into his pockets anyway. Retrieved a little 2 by 3 wallet photo, done in the traditional High School Picture Day style. 
He’d tossed it on the table, and Eddie didn’t react. 
Kept his face perfectly blank, even as his stomach contracted and his breath caught in his chest. 
Carefully pulled the picture to him, to make a show of examining it. 
“Don’t know him.” He lied after a moment, fighting to get his breathing back under control before Mickey figured out what was up. 
“Told you it didn’t matter. What matters is that you get the shit. And hey, while you’re down there…” 
Mickey talked a bit more, and idly, Eddie listened. He knew this little B&E was going to have more components than just retrieving a few things. Had long figured out that this entire front of retrieving “some rich kids keys” was just that--a front. 
Word on the street was that Starcourt was hiding something--something a lot of very powerful people were getting increasingly interested in. He’d rolled his eyes when he caught wind of the first little rumblings, the rumors and whispers that the thing was shrouded in Government secrets and conspiracies, but hadn’t been able to ignore the shit that had come after. 
Likely, the people who had hired him and Mickey understood they had to act now, before someone else did, to see if anything worthwhile was actually down there. 
The real question is why the hell they were using Steve Harrington’s death to do it--when Eddie knew for a fact that Steve Harrington was alive. 
Or alive as anyone could be, at two am at a Shell gas station. 
“Alright.” Eddie said finally, pulling the blueprint towards himself before rolling it up, making sure to casually roll up Harrington’s picture with it. “You got me interested. Half up front and I’m in.”
Mickey grinned at him. “Knew you would be, kid.” 
One hand shake and a hefty envelope later, and Eddie found himself on the way to Starcourt on his very first stakeout. 
It was that first initial look that confirmed it--Harrington’s prized BMW was in fact, still sitting in the parking lot.
Abandoned by rich assholes who absolutely could have paid to have it towed.
Which led to a domino effect of stakeouts, late nights and confrontations, up to and including his present position, counting down the minutes before he could break into Starcourt.
“Ready?” He murmured, and one could be forgiven for thinking he was talking to himself given how quietly he said it.
They would be wrong. 
“Yeah.” The not-so-dead rich kid drawled from the passenger seat.
Eddie tossed a grin at Harrington, who rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. 
“Come on, Stevie.” He purred. “Let’s go find out who impersonated your parents, and why they want that ring you supposedly own so badly.” 
“Honestly dude I just want my car back.” 
“That too.” 
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concreteparasite · 3 days
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⋆Happy Birthday Ray!!!⋆
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It's Ray's birthday today (04/30)
I am not able to do much this year b/c I'm pretty busy, but I wanted to take some time to do a little something. So I did a quick painting and a story blurb :3 hope everyone enjoys!
04/29 11:57 pm
"Shouldn't you be asleep?"
The blonde man gives me a questioning look. I look at the tired hero leaning on the kitchen counter. I caught him after he got back from work, fresh out of the shower, towel around his waist, exhaustion written all over his face. He forces it back to give me a small smile.
"Are you having trouble sleeping Star?"
Ray looks around the kitchen, then back at me.
"You seemed to be hard at work in here today."
My eyebrows knit "What? But I thought I cleaned everything up?"
Ray chuckles lightly. "You did, I just have an eye for detail."
11:58 pm
A smirk moves across my face. "Oh do you?"
"Well, yes I do. For one, What are you holding behind your back?"
"It looks to me that you are up to no good."
"Well your eyes must be going bad old man."
Ray's eye gives a little twitch of annoyance.
"'Old man'? You know, if anyone else called me that even accidentally they would apologize to me profusely..."
Ray leans over me studying me with his eyes, smirk across his face.
Ray's voice lowers.
"So what makes you so special huh?"
I lean into Ray.
"I think I can list a few things."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I'll take a demonstration then. I'm a visual learner you know."
11:59 pm
I break into a smile.
"How about later?"
Ray gives an amused look, leaning back into his original position.
"What? your schedule isn't open on a Monday at midnight?"
I glance at the clock. It was almost time.
"Well it's not just any Monday is it?"
Ray seems confused.
"Wh-?"
12:00 am
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY!!!"
I nearly shout bringing forward the box behind my back.
Before Ray can even respond I bound forward planting a kiss on his cheek. He wraps his arms lightly around me on instinct, looking down at me his face utterly shocked.
I bring the box forward.
"You can probably already guess what this, 'eye for detail' and all~"
Ray's arms fall from my side as he takes the box in his hands.
He opens it to reveal a small cake, with admittedly less than beautiful craftsmanship.
"I thought, since cooking is your hobby, maybe you would like it if I made you a cake..."
"It kind of fell apart though... and didn't really turn out the way I wanted..." Ray looks back up at me, his eyebrows are knit as a sea of emotion runs behind his eyes.
"Maybe I should have just bought-"
Before I can finish the statement Ray places down the cake, taking my face into both of his hands and kissing me deeply.
His thanks and feelings that he was unable to vocalize he instead pushed through his lips into my own. His hands trembled just a bit against my skin.
Ray eventually pulls back and he looks into my face, giving a lovely bright smile, free from any of the exhaustions from earlier in the night. He whispers to me as he plants small kisses everywhere along my face.
"I can't believe you forgot your own-"
"Have I told you that I love you?"
"Yes, many times."
"I love you."
"Yes, I know."
"I don't think there is anything in this universe that can truly convey how much you mean to me."
I smile "I know Ray. You don't have to say it."
"I just don't know what to do to express it."
"You don't have to do anything Ray."
"But that doesn't feel like enough, nothing will ever feel like enough."
"I love you so much."
Ray nuzzles his face into the crevasse of my neck.
"Ugh, I'm going crazy... You're making me go crazy. This is all your fault." I laugh at Ray's out of character antics.
"Well wait to say all that until after you try the cake."
Ray chuckles against my neck giving it a short kiss before pulling away from me.
Ray grabs two forks.
"So... should I put poison control on speed dial first?"
I lightly hit Ray on the arm.
"I hope it takes you out."
"Oh no Star, don't say that, you aren't cut out for a life of villainy."
Ray winks at me.
He leans forward and down closer to my eye level, staring at me.
"What?"
"So are you going to hand feed me?"
"Okay."
Ray looks a little shocked.
"You didn't think I was going to say yes did you?"
"You just wanted to tease me didn't you."
"You evil old man."
Ray smirks, leaning down and closer. He opens his mouth.
I grab a piece of the cake, bringing it slowly to his mouth. Ray's finger's entwine my wrist, steading it as he leads the bite into his mouth. Frosting smears his lower lip as his lips enclose the fork and it pulls out.
Ray chews and swallows the cake. By the time I realize my wrist is still in his hand, he already has me pinned between the counter and his body. He kisses me deeply, licking the frosting off of my lip.
"You make a better cake than you think star."
"And it tastes even better on you."
His eyes darken.
"Now how about that demonstration?~"
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buddie-buddie · 18 hours
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“So,” Buck says, blinking up at Tommy. He still hasn’t gotten over how good that feels– looking up at his partner. Being with someone whose warm, protective hand settles on the small of his back and nearly spans the distance between his hips. Someone whose big, strong arms envelop him when they hug, someone who can tuck Buck into his chest almost effortlessly. Someone who makes him feel grounded, protected, safe. In more ways than one.
“So,” Tommy returns the word, accompanying it with a warm smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle as he looks down at Buck. 
“You met my parents,” Buck says with a laugh, because really– how could he not? It’s a little ridiculous, now that he’s saying it out loud. “On our third date.”
Tommy nods, leaning against the wall outside of Buck’s front door. “Mhmmm,” he hums, watching Buck with a fond smile as he fumbles for his keys. “Sure did.”
It takes a minute, but Buck finally manages to get his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Tommy is nothing but patience and fondness, watching him with a sparkle in his eye that makes Buck feel warm all over. When he finally gets the door open, Buck’s chest swells as Tommy’s big hand comes out to hold the door open for him, nodding for him to head inside first. 
That’s a first. Buck’s stomach flips, a warm, pleasant feeling skating across his skin as he pulls his key from the lock and steps inside. It’s the same feeling he had on their first date when Tommy pulled out his chair before he sat down. The same one he had the first time Tommy texted him Be safe at the start of a shift. 
A smile tugs at his lips as Tommy follows him into his apartment and the door clicks shut behind him. There’s something so simple about it, something so mundane and normal and domestic that it makes Buck’s head spin and his heart pound against his ribcage in the very best way. He wants this again. And again, and again, and again. Wants to come home with Tommy. Come home to Tommy. Wants the door to close behind them, wants to leave the world outside and exist only in this world here, in the one with the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows on Tommy’s face as he toes his shoes off beneath the bike that hangs on Buck’s wall. The one where he pulls two beers out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, and Tommy opens them wordlessly, the silence comfortable as it stretches between them. The one where the necks of their bottles clink and their knuckles brush and Buck’s skin hums and his heart sings from just one small taste of Tommy’s skin against his. 
Buck’s the one to break the easy, comfortable silence. He does it with a small laugh, just shy of a giggle, as he thinks back to the look on his mother’s face when he walked into Chim’s hospital room with Tommy by his side and she connected the dots. “You were covered in soot.”
“Wasn’t the only one,” Tommy points out, grinning against the lip of his beer bottle as he takes another sip.
Buck blushes at the memory of Hen whispering in his ear that he needed to find a mirror, and the moment of horror when he did as much. The horror was fleeting, though, quickly chased away by a swell of pride and a round of hugs and shoulder claps from the people he loves most in the world. He smiles, running his finger over his bottom lip. He has a feeling it’ll be one of those moments he doesn’t ever forget. And something about that makes him really, really happy. 
“I’m glad you were there,” Buck says, meeting Tommy’s eyes and hoping that the look in his own is enough to say all the things he can’t quite figure out how to put into words just yet. If the way Tommy’s eyes shine and the way the hint of a smile dances across his face, he hears him loud and clear. “And, uh,” Buck pauses, clearing his throat. “I hope my parents were alright.”
If he thought he knew horror before, it was nothing compared to the moment he turned away from talking to Christopher, only to see his parents talking to Tommy. 
“They were fine,” Tommy assures him. “They seemed… nice,” he says, almost cautiously. 
Buck shrugs, a little unsure of what to say to that. Yeah, his parents are nice. They traumatized him and Maddie both and they’re responsible for tens of thousands of dollars in therapy bills at this point, but they’re nice people. And they’re trying. And Buck’s learned that all of those things can be true at once. He’s just not quite sure how to put any of that into words without unlocking the Pandora’s box that is his childhood and completely killing the mood. But he doesn’t have to, because Tommy speaks again.
“But there’s a story there,” Tommy says, and it’s more of a declaration than a question. There’s no judgment behind it. He says it simply, easily, as if he’s commenting on the stretch of warm weather they’ve been having. 
And maybe it is just that— maybe it is simple. Maybe he’s so tuned into Buck that he noticed the way Buck’s smile faltered when he noticed they were talking to Tommy. Maybe he picked up on the way Buck stood up a little straighter when he came over and spoke with his parents. Maybe he could feel the way Buck’s skin prickled when his mother spoke— maybe he could feel it from where his hand rested easily on the small of Buck’s back, as if it was always meant to be there. 
But now, one look in Tommy’s eyes— just one glance at the protectiveness that flares against familiar, striking blue— erases any doubts Buck may have had. No maybes. Tommy knows. 
And while he may not know the shades and sizes of the bruises Buck’s parents left behind on his soul and he may not know the things they did– and didn’t do– that put them there, Tommy’s attentive enough to pick up on the fact that they exist. And something about that— something about being seen, being known— makes Buck’s chest ache. 
Buck huffs out a laugh, “Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing down at his feet. “Yeah, you could say that.” 
Tommy hums, taking another sip of his beer before setting it down on the counter with a dull clink. “But you’re okay?” he asks, and it takes everything Buck has not to start sobbing. 
Tommy doesn’t push for more details, doesn’t try for platitudes, doesn’t brush past it. None of the things Buck’s used to. None of the things that, despite best intentions, still manage to feel like salt in a wound that’s been healing for three years but isn’t quite closed up yet. Instead, Tommy knows exactly what to say, exactly what to do. 
He checks on him. 
And he does it so easily, so effortlessly, that Buck’s chest squeezes and he feels a tightness behind his eyes, the kind he feels just before the prickle of hot tears he’s rarely ever able to blink back. Tommy is perfect. He’s kind and he’s good and he’s thoughtful. He’s protective without being overbearing. He’s patient and supportive and so honest, so genuine in everything he does. He’s gorgeous and he’s smart and he’s so ridiculously charming, it’s almost infuriating. He makes Buck feel safe and good and wanted. And he can pull off royal blue polyester better than anyone Buck’s ever seen. He’s just…. he’s perfect. 
So much so that Buck is overcome with it, and instead of the affirmative yeah that plays in his head, what he blurts out instead is, “I really, really like you.” 
The words tumble from his lips before he can stop them, rolling off his tongue effortlessly. His hand moves on instinct in an attempt to fly to his mouth, but Tommy intercepts. His fingers curl around Buck’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks with a gentle hold and an amused smile. 
“You better not take that back, Buckley.”
Buck’s cheeks are on fire, his words caught in the back of his throat. “Uh, I—” 
“You better not take that back,” Tommy repeats. “Because I’m not taking mine back.” He lets Buck’s wrist go, and Buck mourns the loss of the warm, grounding feel of Tommy’s skin against his. But only for a moment, because then Tommy is moving forward, stepping around the corner of the island and closing the distance between them effortlessly with one smooth step. He takes Buck’s face in his hands, his fingers splaying out across stubbled skin and fanning the sparks beneath Buck’s skin into an all-out inferno. 
“I really, really like you too, Evan.” 
“You-you do?” Buck is too focused on the way Tommy looks at him— at the fondness in his eyes and the way his lips quirk up into a small, amused smile— to be embarrassed by the way he all but squeaks out his response. 
“Of course I do,” Tommy says, grinning in earnest now. “And,” he murmurs, tipping Buck’s chin up with two fingers, the same way he did the first time they kissed. The thought of it alone has Buck’s stomach doing somersaults. “I think you,” Tommy drops a quick, closed-mouth kiss to Buck’s lips. It’s small and it’s quick and it’s chaste and yet, it still lights Buck up from the inside out, still has his breath catching in his throat and his chest swelling with something that feels warm and safe and good.  
“Are,” Tommy continues, letting his thumb skate over Buck’s bottom lip with what can only be described as reverence. He kisses him again, still quick and still chaste and still more than enough to leave Buck’s heart pounding, his breath hitching, everything inside of him yearning for more, more, more. “Adorable.” Tommy punctuates the word with a third kiss, this one deeper than the previous two. 
Buck relaxes beneath his touch almost instantly, melting into Tommy’s hold. It’s far from their first kiss, and yet, Buck still feels butterflies kicking to life in his gut when Tommy touches him, their wings flapping so furiously it sends a flush crawling up his neck and settling on the apples of his cheeks. 
Tommy so much as looks in his direction and excitement flares in Buck’s gut. Warmth curls around his chest and beats out of his heart, swelling behind his ribs and making each breath come easier. He feels seen and safe and whole in a way he doesn’t think he ever really had. It’s a little dizzying, knowing that Tommy wants him— that Tommy likes him— just as much as Buck does him. 
But all of that is nothing compared to when Tommy kisses him. When Tommy kisses him, Buck feels absolutely giddy. He feels like he did the summer he turned thirteen and Lydia Harris kissed him on the cheek at the Fourth of July fireworks. He feels like his cheeks might go numb from smiling so much, like he might drown in the happiness that’s flooding his veins and thrumming beneath his skin. 
It doesn’t help that Tommy kisses him like he’s drowning and Buck’s the first breath of fresh air, that he kisses Buck like he’s everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever needed. And nothing has ever made Buck– who has quite literally come back from the dead– feel so alive. 
Tommy tastes like beer and wedding cake and only a little bit like the soot he showered off when Buck brought him back to Harbor to return his gear and get his car. He has Buck’s face in his hands like he’s something worth holding onto, and Buck has never felt more whole than he does right here, right now. He’s bone tired, still hungover, standing here in his socks and a hoodie that’s been all over LA, and when Tommy pulls back long enough that they can catch their breath, he looks at Buck like he just hung the moon and all the stars. He holds him like he’s precious, like he’s something sacred.
It’s Buck who closes the distance this time, sighing into the kiss and melting into Tommy’s touch. His hand skates up Tommy’s side and settles on his neck, in the same place where it did just a couple of hours earlier in the hospital lobby. Heat zips up his spine as he the memory washes over him, and if the way Tommy’s lips curl into a smile beneath his is any indication, Tommy’s reliving it too. 
When they part, it’s only long enough to draw in a ragged breath and for Tommy to murmur, “I’m happy I could be there today,” into the space between their lips. 
“Me too,” Buck breathes, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m always happy when you’re around.”
Tommy grins, and if Buck's not mistaken, there’s a flush creeping its way onto Tommy’s cheeks. Tommy’s blushing and it has absolutely no business being half as cute as it is. “Then maybe I need to be around more often.” 
“Yeah,” Buck agrees. He’s helpless to keep the smile off his face, but he doesn’t try. He’s happy. Maybe more than he’s ever been. And it feels good. Happiness feels good. Being with Tommy feels good. Buck feels good. And he doesn’t want to ever stop. “Maybe you do.”
read on ao3 here
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babyleostuff · 17 hours
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taking care of sick svt | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
turns into the biggest man child, he’s like your typical man with a cold - he thinks he’s dying and is one step away from writing down his will. other than his usual dramatics, he’s easy to take care of, because let’s face it - cheol lives for your attention, and he gets plenty of that when he’s sick. his pout stays on his lips 24/7, even when he doses on and off, most likely while you cradle him close to your body, because only then is he able to rest properly. 
❥ jeonghan 
is being sick really that bad when your attention is 24/7 on him? jeonghan would be more than fine to take care of himself on his own, the cold wouldn’t really bother him anyways, but your presence would change everything. he’d let you dote on him as much as you’d want - he’d know your worry comes from a place of love and he would not have the heart to tell you that he wasn’t feeling that bad. would turn into the biggest cuddle bug, and you’d most probably spend the day under a thick blanket in your bed, watching bad movies. 
❥ joshua 
would insist on repeating that he is definitely not sick, not until his fever makes him look like an angry red tomato, and all he does is sneeze and cough his lungs out. 10/10 patient, he doesn’t try to fight with you over the medicine, he isn’t whiny like cheol, nor does he have the attitude of a dying man from a simple cold. he listens to you (like a good boy). when you tell him to rest - he rests, when you tell him to eat - he eats, when you put another blanket around his shivering form - he lets out a content sigh. 
❥ jun 
tries his best to find some medicine for his fever, before he gives up, and calls you for help (turns out he took one of your painkillers you use during your period). a clueless bub, but he tries, keyword - tires, his best to take care of himself. one of the koala squad members that will low key glue himself to you, and follow you anywhere (not that you mind, you love it when jun gets so clingy). you’d spend most of your days on the sofa, and when you’d get bored of the silly reality shows you’d change the scenery to your bedroom, and put on an animated movie (jun falls asleep 0.001 second after the movie starts).   
❥ hoshi 
a child. a literal child. while cheol is a man child, hoshi is just a child. you’d have to chase after him with medicine, and a cup of milk with garlic to help his cough, but he’d run away the second you’d enter the room. doesn’t want to listen because, one - he’s not sick (he’s coughing like a demon possessed him), and two - he can take care of himself (he can’t). but when you tire him enough, which is quickly because, well, he’s sick and his energy isn’t as high as it usually is, he becomes such a polite cutie pie, and doses off the second you pull his fav blanket over him.
❥ wonwoo 
he’d insist that he’s fine because he wouldn’t want to be a burden to you. he’d go around the apartment coughing and sneezing, his cheeks clearly red from the fever - but would still insist that he was fine. it wouldn’t be until you’d drag him by force to your bedroom, place him under the blankets, yell at him (lovingly) that he could never be a burden that he’d admit that he wasn’t feeling that great after all. wonwoo would try not to show how happy he was when you took care of him, but it wouldn't work - the sparkly eyes, and small pout told you everything you needed to know. sick wonwoo is also a very clingy wonwoo, so get ready for a clingy cat that will follow you everywhere.
❥ woozi 
another member of the “i’m not sick, i’m fine, leave me alone. proceeds to almost die from a cough” squad. woozi will go about his day like he’d usually would, and by now you know there's no point in trying to get him back to bed. the only solution you have left is to follow him around the apartment or his studio to make sure he stays hydrated, and to remind him of taking the medicine. as much as he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of his sickness, he’s so so grateful for you, your presence, your comforting hugs and gentle pecks on his forehead, as you try to silently take care of him, without disturbing his work. 
❥ dk 
happily lets you take care of him, because according to dk, your hugs and small kisses on the forehead are the best cure for sickness. does anything you ask him to (which is mainly to lay down) without any questions, and it makes the whole process of getting him back on his feet so much easier. he spends most of his days resting, wrapped up securely in your arms, with his head right over your heart, dozing on and off, while you read or watch a movie or show with the volume turned down as not to disturb his sleep. in conclusion - seokmin is just a little cuddle bug that wants to be the little spoon.  
❥ mingyu 
a very clingy, very pouty, and very sniffly gyu would be stuck to you for the whole time. he’d look a bit comical - his already big body covered by at least two thick blankets would make him look low key scary (don’t tell him that, he’d do sad puppy eyes, and bury himself in your bedroom under even more blankets). when he’s sick it’s also the only time he’s cold, and he’s the one in need of more heat, so his shivering form would be glued to yours because he needs specifically your body heat. but other than being a human koala, he’s very easy to take care of. no complaints, no whines.  
❥ minghao    
if it wasn’t for the sneezing or coughing, and he’s slightly red cheeks, you’d start to question if he really was sick. minghao is born ready to fight the cold, sneezing, and coughing - he’s the master of homemade medicine, and life hacks that seem to repel the germs better than the actual bought medicine. as much as he wouldn’t mind your doting, he always silently thrives off of your affection anyway, but he’d never act like he was feeling worse than he did - he wouldn’t want to make you worried just to have your attention in him. 
❥ seungkwan 
it’s time for you to turn into a stay at home mum, because seungwan needs you (read - your attention). he can get a bit bitchy and whiny, especially about medicine, but it’s mostly because he’s not feeling well (and a sick boo seungkwan equals a cranky boo seungkwan), but you know better than get angry at him for fussing over the coughing syrup. to be honest, all seungkwan wants, is to crawl under the blankets with you (preferably with you running your fingers through his messy hair). 
❥ vernon 
you have to pull out your nursing degree with this one. the only thing vernon relies on when sick is google (which tells him he’s on the verge of death) (he only has a slight cold), and phone calls to his mum (he tried making a soup) (he failed). he’s very easy to take care of, though, mostly because he’s pretty much clueless, so he doesn’t question anything you do. nonetheless, vernon would try to help you out as much as he could - he wouldn’t want to be a burden (he could never). + another one that gets so so clingy when sick 
❥ chan 
our baby chan is such a strong and independent person, and he thrives off of taking care of his loved ones, so when he’s the one in need of help he has a bit of a hard time accepting it. he’d insist he’s fine, then he’d almost cough his lungs out, and still insist he’s feeling great (which earns a very disapproving look from you), and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. it’s not that he doesn’t want your help, he’d just be afraid you’d think he’s weak, and a baby for asking for help. you’d have to scold him, before urging his ass back to bed, and threatening him that you’d deprive him of cuddles for the next month if he ever even thought like that ever again. 
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ddejavvu · 3 days
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MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed
"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"
Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.
"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"
Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.
"Actually, she's-"
"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.
"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.
"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.
Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.
"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."
"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.
"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"
Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.
"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."
Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.
"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.
"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."
Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.
Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"
Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.
"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"
"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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just a kid iii || jenni hermoso x teen!reader ||
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jenni finally meets your girlfriend, but it doesn't go according to plan.
"chiqui!" alexia flinched at the volume of jenni's voice in the very public place. you jumped up from the table and ran over to jump into the woman's arms. back at the table, alexia shot carmen an apologetic look. your girlfriend had been warned by alexia, olga, and several of your barcelona teammates how you got around jenni. they had failed to mention how much worse it seemed to get after jenni had moved away.
"jenni, i missed you," you told her. jenni smiled as she cupped your cheeks and kissed the top of your head. tucked beneath her arm, you walked with jenni back to the table. "carmen, this is jenni. jenni, this is carmen, my girlfriend."
carmen stood up, standing just a couple of inches taller than jenni. alexia smirked at the look of surprise on jenni's face. she wasn't used to people being taller than her, especially not someone so much younger. it took jenni by surprise, enough so that she didn't mention the very obvious resemblance.
"nice to meet you. i've heard a lot about you," carmen said. she held her hand out for jenni to shake. things seemed to go back to normal once everybody had sat down again. alexia almost wished that jenni had stayed quiet, but she wasn't going to complain when it obviously made you happy to be around the striker again.
carmen seemed to get kind of quiet as jenni took over your attention. alexia tried to engage your girlfriend in conversation a bit more, but it didn't seem to work very well. as much as carmen looked like jenni, she acted just as much like alexia did. according to most of your older teammates, carmen would grow out of being so awkward around people eventually, you just had to be patient.
"hey, i think that i might head home soon. it's getting kind of late," carmen told you. for the first time in what felt like forever to carmen, she had your attention. however, it didn't feel as good as she had hoped it would. you looked hurt, a pout on your face as you prepared to ask her if everything was okay. "have fun, okay?"
"you're leaving now?" you asked. carmen nodded as she stood up from the table. she got money out to pay for her part of the meal, despite alexia's protests that she had it covered. "you're leaving alone?"
"yeah, i'm going to the gym early tomorrow. have a good night." carmen leaned for a moment, and you foolishly thought she was going to give you a kiss. instead, she offered handshakes to alexia, olga, and jenni.
"bye, i love you," you muttered quietly. it really wasn't loud enough for carmen to properly hear, but you were still hurt when she didn't say anything to you. alexia noticed your shift in mood and turned to olga for help, her girlfriend being a better choice of comfort for you.
"do you want to come stay with me for a while?" jenni offered. you shrugged, having hoped to stay with carmen at her new place. it had taken you nearly two weeks to get alexia to agree on letting you spend the night over there, and the one night you get permission, carmen left hastily without you.
"am i boring you, chiquita?" jenni asked as she nudged you with her elbow. the two of you had spent the day catching up with each other, but you couldn't tear yourself away from your phone for more than a few minutes. you were going crazy waiting for the good morning text from carmen that didn't seem to be coming. you knew that she was awake, you had seen the posts on her story from the gym.
"no, sorry. it's just that carmen usually checks in with me by now," you told her. jenni frowned as she understood what you were going through. "i'm scared that she's mad at me, but i don't know what i did."
"they say that she looks like me, but that girl is all ale. trust me, it takes time to realize what little things set her off. maybe you should go see her. talk to her, make sure that she knows you love her," jenni suggested. you were nervous about showing up to her place unannounced, but you couldn't just sit back and wait for her to text you anymore.
"who says that you and carmen look alike?" you asked. none of the team had brought this up with you yet, so you were a tad bit confused.
"alexia, olga, eli, pina, jana, mapi, ingrid, and um, everybody else who has met both of us." jenni's tone may have been a bit sarcastic, but she wasn't joking. you scoffed, not believing that at all. sure, carmen was tall with dark hair and a few tattoos, but that was about it. you hadn't put that much thought into her similarities to jenni at all whenever the two of you had started dating. you were just glad that the hot girl in the gym was giving you the time of day.
"whatever," you huffed. jenni teased you a little more as she took you to carmen's apartment. you made jenni drive off, promising to call alexia if things went badly. a part of you was terrified that carmen wouldn't want anything to do with you. if what jenni said was true about everybody believing that they looked alike, you realized that you had probably made carmen jealous. and so, you very nervously made your way up to carmen's apartment.
"(y/n)?" of all the people carmen expected to see as she came out of the stairwell, you were the last one. "what are you doing here?"
"i had to come check on you. it's been three days, and you haven't answered any of my texts or calls. i've been out of my mind worrying about you," you told her. carmen rubbed the back of her neck as she shifted from one foot to the other. she could easily see the evidence of what she put you through as you played with your fingers.
"i, uh, i'm sorry too. it was stupid, but seeing you and jenni interacting, i got kind of jealous. do you want to come with me to dinner?" carmen asked you. you nodded, happily taking her hand as she led you out of her building. you were finally able to enjoy your night as the weight of your worrying was lifted from your shoulders. that night, as you let yourself get comfortable in carmen's bed, you made sure to send both jenni and alexia texts that everything had been sorted out with carmen.
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whytheylosttheirminds · 18 hours
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)
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“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.
“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 
By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.
“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 
“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”
You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.
Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.
Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.
He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 
Two Years Earlier…
“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”
“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”
Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.
“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.
“I need you,” he growled.
“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.
He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.
“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 
“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.
“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”
You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.
“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.
“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”
He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.
As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 
Now…
Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.
But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 
It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.
Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.
Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.
Two Years Ago…
“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.
Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.
“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 
“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”
“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”
With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.
“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.
You just kept walking.
Now…
You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 
You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 
You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  
Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.
His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 
For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.
“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 
“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”
You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 
“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020
You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.
You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.
“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”
As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…
“Ward Cameron.”
Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 
And Rafe…Rafe.
You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.
You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.
You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.
You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 
By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.
When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.
“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.
“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.
You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 
“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.
You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.
“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”
“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”
“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.
“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 
You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.
“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”
Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.
You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.
Twelve Years Earlier…
“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”
“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 
“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 
The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.
“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.
“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.
Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.
to be continued
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a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶
If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq
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maxwellatoms · 1 day
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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
Okey dokey.
1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.
Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.
The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.
Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.
A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.
I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.
Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.
Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.
2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?
It's the only way to get anything done, currently.
The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".
It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.
There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.
Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.
3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?
I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)
The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.
Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.
Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.
I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.
Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?
You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.
To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.
4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?
The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.
I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.
Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.
I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.
The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.
5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?
There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.
The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.
---
So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.
Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.
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crazy4leclerc · 3 days
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imgonnagetyouback — c.l.
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: you and charles have been broken up for a couple months now, but things take a turn when he sees you at a race and then with his teammate at the after party.
warnings: angst, jealous!charles, possessiveness?, swearing, alcohol, kissing, making out, charles being needy, and lil bit of sexual scenes
a/n: based off taylor’s new song ofc ;)
it’s been months since i’ve been to a race due to mine and charles’ break up but i was dragged here since my best friend, shelbi, is now currently dating lando norris.
“y/n, can you keep up? i’m dying to get to the mclaren garage to see lando!” shelbi whined to me as i was dragging behind her, arms covering myself in hopes that no one will see me or recognize me.
“i’m sorry shelbs, you know how out of place i feel here since the breakup.” she stops and walks back to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “i understand, im sorry for dragging you here, i just wanted you to meet lando since you never have.” she says with a smile on her face.
i’m happy for her. i really am but i just wasn’t happy being at a race since every little thing reminded me of charles.
as we make our way past all the paddocks i was not pleased to see that mclarens was right next to ferrari.
“oh fuck me.” i grown out and shelbi only giggles, “you’ll be fine!” i roll my eyes at her as she tugs me into the garage. i watch as shelbi runs over to lando with his arms wide open for her. a smile graces my face at their interaction.
“y/n, this is lando. lando this is my best friend, y/n.” she introduces us, “i feel like i’ve seen you before.” he tells me and i want to die on the spot.
“uhm, yeah.. i used to be with charles.” i noticed a frown come across his face, “im sorry about that. if it makes you feel any better, i don’t think he’s doing too well.” he tells me as shelbi has her arm around his waist.
“well that serves him right. i hope he suffers!” she says and me and lando both laugh at her statement. “i can show you around the circuit if you ladies want me to?” he asks and we both oblige.
as we’re walking around the circuit, i can’t help but awe at how cute lando and my best friend are. i sneak some pictures of them as we continue to walk, but only being stopped by fans every now and then.
“y/n? is that you?” i hear a thick accent say behind me. it takes me a bit to register who’s voice it is but as i turn around, the biggest smile spreads across my face.
“carlos!” i say as i jog to him and wrap my arms around him.
“what are you doing here?” he asks as he pulls away and sets his hands on shoulders. “i’m here with my best friend, she’s dating lando.” i say as i point back to where they’re now standing, greeting a fan.
he nods and lets go of me, “i really never thought i’d see you again, at least so soon.” i laugh awkwardly since i already know charles will be a hot topic in our conversation, “yeah, me either. i was forced into coming but i will do anything for my best friend, even if i have to see him again.” he smiles at me and says, “well that is why you’re such an amazing person.”
i blush at his words and thank him. “don’t feel too bad, charles has been having it a bit rough since they breakup.” carlos tells me truthfully. i sigh, “i mean it’s only been a couple of months, i think he would move on by now.” carlos shakes his head no, “you’re crazy if you think anyone would want to move on from you.”
i don’t wanna be crazy but is he flirting?
“is this spaniard harassing you, y/n?” lando says as him and shelbi make their way over to us. i giggle and tell him no.
“she’s an old friend! don’t be like that you asshole.” carlos says as he smacks landos chest. me and shelbi giggle at them. “yes, carlos is right.”
we all stand around chatting to one another since the race didn’t start for a little bit longer, carlos says he has an interview so we bid farewells, “see you around?” he asks and i shake my head, “yes, i’ll see you.” he smiles and surprisingly kisses my cheek goodbye.
“he wants you.” lando says to me as carlos was walking away. i smack my forehead and shake my head, “no, he shouldn’t.” shelbi smirks at me, “he does, i think the flirting was obvious. he was shooting his shot since he knows your now single.”
i groan, “what is up with these god damn ferrari drivers.”
as we make our way back down to the garage, i could almost feel his gaze staring holes into me. i refused to look anywhere near the ferrari garage but of course, carlos had seen me once again.
“y/n! come look at the new livery for the race!” i’m literally going to off myself. shelbi gives me a comforting squeeze on my arm, “you should go. make charles jealous, espically of his own teammate.”
i make my way over to carlos with a smile on my face. “new livery?” i ask and he nods, grabbing my arm to pull me into the garage.
charles doesn’t go unnoticed. i can sense him, almost feel him everyone around me. i’ve yet to take a full look at him, only glancing in my peripheral as carlos shows me his car and what is all new about it.
“i like the designs that are on it.” i tell carlos and he hums as he begins to put on his racing suit.
i feel so awkward since i’ve never been too close with carlos before but i help but hear shelbi’s words ringing in my head.
“can you help me?” carlos asks and i make my way over to him. “zip me?” i can’t help but laugh at the situation, “i think it’s supposed to be the other way around but sure.” i giggle as i began to zip up his suit.
then all of a sudden i was aware of how close i was to carlos. i could feel his breath fanning on my face and i felt like i could barely breathe. not because of our close proximity, but because of charles staring daggers into me. and that’s when i snapped my eyes to meet his.
dark green. staring right back at me. he had this dark look in his eyes that i couldn’t make out. but if this is what jealousy looked like, he sure as hell pulled it off god damn well.
honey, i can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean
i forced myself to look away, gulping, i step back from carlos and give him a smile. “thanks, sweetheart.” he gives me a smirk as he reaches for his balaclava and helmet. “good luck out there, carlos.” i tell him as he puts on the balaclava. “i think i got my good luck charm here with me.”
i swear he’s got to be doing it on purpose.
“i’m not!” he laughs and grabs my arm, “well i guess we have to wait and see.” he says as he leans down once again to kiss my cheek.
in front of charles.
fuck me.
well to say i was a good luck charm is an understatement since carlos did win the race.
i’m currently in the back of landos mclaren as he drives me and shelbi to where the after party will be.
“carlos is about to pounce on you. i can feel it.” shelbi says and i groan, “please. he’s attractive but i think in my books no one can beat my ex.” shelbi rolls her eyes at me, “girl you have got to move on and carlos is right there!”
“yeah but i’m not like that! im not over charles!” i exclaim and that’s when lando butts in, “look i get where you’re coming from, but i think for tonight, just flirt back, make charles crawl in his skin seeing you all up and close with carlos.”
i sigh, “okay. fine. i’m gonna get him back.”
the second i stepped in the door of where the party was it was like my presence summoned carlos.
“there’s my good luck charm!” he exclaims and i blush at his words. he makes his way over to me, hand outstretched and i take it. his warm hand grasps mine as he leads me over to the bar.
“a drink for my good luck charm. because of you, i won the race.” he whispers in my ear and slides a drink over to me.
“thank you.” i tell him and he wraps his arm around my waist. “don’t thank me, i’m going to continue to thank you.” he smiles at me and guides me to sit in the bar stool.
but then again, charles’ presence doesn’t come unknown. i can hear him down at the end laughing at some joke max made.
standing at the bar like something’s funny
after my drink, carlos asks me to dance and i don’t deny. i’m getting revenge.
carlos grabs my waist as i wrap my arms around his shoulders. “did you have fun at the race?” he asks and i nod. “just making sure. i know it was hard going back to one.” well shit. am i that easy to read?
“it wasn’t too bad. you made it worth while.” i smile at him as he squeezes my waist.
carlos spins us around and that’s when i make eye contact with charles again and i don’t hold back the smirk on my face.
whether i’m gonna be your wife or..
he’s sitting at the bar now, hand gripping a glass so hard his veins look like they’re about to pop out.
gonna smash up your bike i haven’t decided yet
“i can’t forget to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” carlos whispers in my ear, “thank you.” he smiles down at me. “don’t worry about him, yeah?” i nod and wrap my arms tighter around him, soaking in this moment.
but i’m gonna get you back
after dancing, i excuse myself from carlos to go to the restroom. he kisses my cheek as i part ways from him.
once i’m in the bathroom i decided to freshen myself up and just take a breather because what the hell am i doing?
i’m not over charles. i’m not one to make anyone jealous, but here i am.
“making me jealous tonight, are we?” i nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
“what the fuck are you doing in here?” i grip the sink as i see charles standing a few feet away from me.
a smirk spreads across his face, “i think you’re good at playing whatever game you’re trying to play, mon cheri.”
“don’t even think about using that on me. you have some nerve coming in here.” i scoff. “i think you asked for it.” he says as he makes his way over to me.
“fuck you. you’re an asshole.” i roll my eyes at him.
whether i’m gonna curse you out or..
i collect myself, ignoring his presence as i turn away and begin to walk away only for him to grab my wrist and pin me against the door.
“don’t leave. i know you don’t want to.” he almost pleads. and he’s right, i don’t want to.
“i hate the way he’s looking at you. i hate how he gets to touch you. i hate that he’s calling you his good luck charm. i hate that he’s kissing your cheek. i hate that he gets to look at you the way that only i do. i just hate that you’re even near him or in the sight of him.” charles confesses.
i’m godsmacked honestly.
“i- charles there isn’t anything there.” i confess. but he isn’t having it.
“don’t tell me that. i know there is.” he says as he reaches down to grip my waist and i feel my body heat up in flames.
“there’s not! he’s the one who’s been flirting with me all day. i swear. i’ve just been going along with it.” i huff out but it’s not what he wanted to hear.
“go along with it? make me jealous? you knew i’d come crawling back.” i nod. “yeah i was hoping you would.” i say as his grip on my waist tightens even more.
“charles, look i am sorry. but why am i apologizing when you’re the reason we broke up? you were the one that said you didn’t know if you could do it anymore but now here we are.” i say, frustrated.
“i’m so sorry, baby. i never meant it. it was all me, never you. we were perfect together. i was just so caught up in my head, i was struggling but i do so much worse without you. you’re my constant and i don’t see a life without you.” he confessed as he grabs my face in his big hands.
“i still love you charles.” i say and it was like everything fell into place because as soon as those words left my lips, his came crashing down onto mine.
it was so euphoric feeling his lips against mine again. it felt so right. it felt like home.
“god, i’ve missed you so much.” he whines as he breaks the kiss and begins working on my neck. “i’ve missed you more, charlie.” i say as i reach around his neck to grip his hair.
his lips make their way back up to meet mine. i know exactly where this is leading.
“i can’t do this here.” he says and i nod in agreement, “take me back to my place, please.”
take you back to my house 
“of course, love.” he kisses my cheek and forehead. “now only i get to do that.” i giggle at him as we walk out the bathroom together.
i haven’t decided yet
when we get in charles’ ferrari it was just like before. everything felt right and at home. the entire ride back to my house he couldn’t keep his hands off me. when we got into my house, he rushed us inside and slammed the door and pushed me up against it.
“fuck, mon amour.” he groans as i wrap my legs around his waist, grinding over the growing bulge in his pants.
but i’m gonna get you back
to say everyone was baffled about me and charles being back together… they were. but i find it kind of funny since i manifested it on accident.
i did get him back.
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