#I CATCH NEW FISH 2-3 AT A TIME

[praeluxius]

c'est la vie - Kim Minju

Part 3 of folie à deux.

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male reader smut. (ft. a sprinkle of Wonyoung)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Masterlist word count: 10,553

c'est la vie - that's life

"I'm so fucked."

Fists clenched and eyes scrunched, you’re venting out loud to no one in particular. You repeat it, "I'm so fucked." Louder this time—to the sky. Well, more accurately, to the plastered ceiling of this little hole-in-the-wall. Either way, the solution isn't there.

It isn't at the bottom of a bottle either, but you're determined to find that out the hard way.

"Is there a friend I can call for you?" The woman behind the bar has stopped polishing off the glasses; interrupted by what she would say are the ramblings of a madman.

"There's no coming back from this." You throw your head forward, catching it in your now open hands, elbows resting on the wooden bar top.

"Sir? I'm going to call you a—"

"I don't need a cab." You draw your head from your hands and open your eyes—allowing the light to pour onto you from one of those little round lights above you. The drink sits in front of you, unfinished. Hard liquor in a tumbler just waiting to be thrown back like the three before it—a plea you can’t ignore. The large ice cube rests against your nose as you pour every last drop onto your tongue and swallow. "I do need another drink."

With the glass set back down, your body slouches and sinks. Eyes stare down at the empty glass and your face is cold to the world, cold to the woman across from you. You must reek of self-pity, the smell thick in the air. 

Let’s be honest, you've had far better days.

She's got her delicate fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring you a fresh drink and placing it on a napkin, "you know, you're not the first person to stumble into this bar wearing a face like that."

You slide your eyes over to the glass and reach for it. "I highly doubt it."

"But, few of them show up this early, even if it is a Friday." She has a point: you’re propping up the bar alone and drowning your sorrows solo. In fact, there are only two other people in this whole place, sitting together at a table. "So what’s your story?"

"Does there have to be one?" You grip the glass in your hand, giving the stranger the best smile you can fake.

She steps back and brushes her hand on her trousers as she laughs, "I've seen many broken men and women sit at this bar and spend too many hours drinking their life savings, with hearts broken, dreams smashed and most of all, mistakes they regretted. But you seem different."

"Oh really, why's that?" Your eyes stare into your drink. It stares right back at you.

"You're still young."

"Does being broken have an age requirement?"

She shifts and reaches for something, something you can't quite make out, being locked in the most intimate of stares with your drink. It’s the sound of her placing down another fresh glass that gives it away. "Actually, yes. Because you've still got time to work with."

"That's the irony. All I have left is time."

“Then you have to believe in yourself to make the most of that time.” Her words are heavy, like their meaning holds weight within her too.

She lets you dwell on it for a moment while she pours her own drink. She settles herself against the bar top, across from you, resting her head in one open hand. Her gaze burns into you like sitting in the sun. You can feel something else too, a soft vibration in your pocket.

You finally break away from your staring contest with your drink—one you lost anyway—to fish your phone out of your pocket. The screen alights with Gaeul’s name and is followed by the words ‘1 new message’.

After a swipe, it reads, ‘wtf where are you? what happened?’ but the thought of sending a reply never crosses your mind. And, just in case, you switch it over to silent.

“Is that her?” The woman gently waves a slender finger towards your phone as you put it back where you found it. “The reason you’re here?”

"Do you press all your customers like this?"

“Only the interesting ones,” she returns her hand to her glass, taking a sip of it before continuing, “and there’s sadly so few of those.”

"And if I'm not as interesting as you think?"

"Then I'll buy you a drink.” She tilts her glass at you. "For the trouble."

"And if I'm fascinating?"

"I'll still buy you a drink." Another sip from her glass as her lip gloss stains the rim, "maybe two."

"Then no, it wasn't her." And here's the thing, you don't know who to blame. Yourself? Probably. Wonyoung? Maybe. The mystery cameraman who got it all on video? Almost definitely. 

“But it is another woman, right?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m not exactly rushed off my feet here.”

You sigh, unsure exactly where to begin with this whole mess. The complete story is a long one. You could tell her about your family—the trouble at home and why you had to leave—but that’s not for anyone to know.

"I transferred here. Moved here with my brother. He's at work right now, and he will be late into the evening." You pause to take another drink. Another burning sensation. "To keep food on our table and keep me in college." 

Even saying so little it weighs on you, the feelings of regret and the feeling that you're saying too much. You bite your tongue and hesitate.

"So why are you here and… you know... not at college?" She pushes you for more. She flicks a finger towards you with her free hand and then brings her glass to her lips.

You drag your eyes up for the first time and finally inspect the woman across from you.

She's your age, roughly—if you had to guess. She's pretty, and that part you're more confident about. She wears her long brunette hair over one shoulder, running in a loose wave, over her slate black blazer, which sits over a small black tee, cropped at the waist. She smiles when your eyes meet hers. And maybe she had no idea, and perhaps it's all subconscious, but the tips of her slender fingers squeeze slightly against the glass now that you're paying her some attention.

"I never got your name," you say with curiosity laden in your voice.

"Minju."

"And why is a young woman like you working here on a Friday afternoon?"

"Were you not the one telling me about your troubles?" She follows her words with a soft laugh.

"Call it quid pro quo. You answer and then I’ll tell you all about it," you say.

"Fine." She stands back upright, adjusting her blouse with a few gentle touches. The way her finger glides across the collar and tugs at it slightly. It's more than a little distracting. She cuts a sleek hourglass shape out of the shelves of bottled booze behind her. "I'm between gigs right now."

"Gigs?"

"Ah." She waves a finger. "My turn."

Minju tilts her head and then rests her palm against the bar—leaning toward you and eyes focused. It’s like an inspection and you instinctively sit up straighter.

"So why are you here?" she asks.

"Expelled. About..." You bring up your wristwatch into view. "About an hour ago."

Her brows go up a fraction and her eyes narrow on you again, almost as if to accuse you of lying to her. But her expression softens almost instantly. You would never notice if not for watching every second in painstaking detail. Her widening eyes reveal to you the thoughts passing through her mind as she racks her brain for a reason you would be expelled.

"You said that you're between gigs, so what is it you do?" you say, shifting the focus back away from yourself.

"I sing. I dance. I model. I act." She pauses with a bitter look. "However, right now, I serve drinks." You get it; she looks the part. That much is clear. She's far too gorgeous to be spending her time polishing glasses and serving screwdrivers to burnouts at happy hour. She looks every bit like a woman who should be so much more, but this isn't Hollywood, and the storybook tale of the waitress who makes it is so cliché.

You swill the last of your drink around in the glass, watching the little tidal pattern inside. The way the ice cube moves with the current, it hypnotises, entrances. You speak, looking down into the amber-hued ocean within your glass.

"And you have the talent to back up the looks?"

"So they tell me." There's no joy in the words or the tone. No pride or smug sense of achievement. If anything, it's dismissive. “It’s just a slow period. That’s life.”

“C’est la vie.” You catch her gaze as you utter the phrase under your breath.

Minju continues despite you, “but things will turn around soon enough. I'm going places."

"Every actor who is going places never seems to get there." Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's because, right now, you hate this city and everyone in it, but everything that comes out of your mouth is uncharacteristically curt.

And look, you regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth but that doesn't change the way you just dismissed her. It wasn't meant personally, but it's hard to stop your thoughts from curdling into words right now.

Minju is quiet, and the air becomes heavy. You swallow deep and finally look her in the eyes again. There's something there, some little flicker of emotion untold that gives her away for a moment. She is a woman told repeatedly that she has the world at her feet, but the hard truth of it is that she's here, working away behind the bar because, in fact, life is a lot more cruel.

Absorbed by her vulnerability, you feel the need to backtrack, "that's not—"

"So what, you look at me and see nothing but a girl who couldn't cut it?" There's a flash of fire in her eyes. A burn. A spark that sets the sky alight. A very attractive spark.

The way she fires it back. The passion in her words. The tension building between you as your eyes linger on each other.

You can't explain the attraction, but you can certainly feel it.

"No," you fire back without hesitation, leaning towards her, "what I see is a woman working two jobs just to afford a place to live." Your confidence rises with the alcohol pumping its way through your system and you do your damnedest to rescue the situation. "What I see is a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that somehow she still keeps alive where so many more have given up. I'm not judging."

Silence.

Sudden, silent, and slightly sinister.

"Yeah, you were," Minju's eyebrows arch in amusement, "but that's fine, I'll take my turn now."

As she leans forward, there are words on her tongue. She looks ready to bite back, but she's looking over you, across the room, watching the only other two people in the bar leave. And for a minute, everything is held in suspense, you are locked together in silence, the clap of their shoes echoing through it. Then the sound of the door, and the brief exposure to the outside world, it's the rain pouring and the cars passing by and then it's the slam shut. It's just you and her, Minju, alone under the dim of the lights.

"So what was it?" she finally breaks the silence.

"Hm?"

"What got you expelled?"

You could lie. There's an opportunity for that. But what's the point? Even though she's a stranger, it doesn't feel like there's a risk if you just come clean and spill your dirty little secret, besides, you owe her one now.

"I got caught fucking in the library." The truth comes out plain and simple. It’s a brazen statement to make in the middle of the afternoon to a stranger. Her gaze shoots down at you. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that.

"I’m sorry, you were caught fucking in the library?" She repeats it out quizzically as if she’s taking time to process. Minju has this way of talking—a lilt in her voice. She has a tone and a pitch that rises and falls with each word. She's amused, that much is clear, by the slight smirk that has curled a corner of her mouth to accompany her sound.

"We were alone, or at least we thought we were, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before, but apparently, there's evidence." You gesture your empty glass at her, a secondary conversation, unspoken but clear that you need another drink before you tell her anything else.

In doing so you see how she tenses her lips together, holding in her laughter at the thought. She’s holding and you’re watching until she finally cracks, her grin wide and laughter loud.

"Now I am the one judging you. You made fun of me for trying while you're too busy swinging your cock around to even try. So, you tell me, who is the stupid one here?"

"Alright I deserved that one." Your hand had been holding the empty glass to her but now you bring it to rest against the bar top. "In my defence, it's not like I had much of a choice. That girl..."

"Here we go. Let's see how you justify this one." She finally takes your empty glass and when the edge of her fingers brushes across the back of your hand, they linger for far too long. And when she draws back, dragging away those long, delicate fingers from your own, you find yourself suddenly cold.

"It's not like I could turn her down if I wanted to. Also I would never have done it in the library if she didn't make me."

"She 'made' you. Go on." There's scepticism in the words. Her mocking tone teasing you as you watch her turn to the shelves behind her, eyes scanning the possibilities.

"No one says no to her. Never."

"Wow, sounds like quite a woman," she says, ever more playful, as she reaches for the top shelf. Her blazer is pulled up now, ever so slightly exposing her back above the waist of her trousers. Trousers hugging the subtle swell of her hips. Her small, tight, round ass is defined through the fitted fabric. You can't look away.

"Everything comes easily for her. There are literally men fighting for her affections. They would die for her," the words tumble from your mouth, as your gaze lingers.

You must have been lost in the daze and absent-mindedly following the contours of her thighs because by the time you shift focus to her face, she's peering at you from over her shoulder. Eyes sharp as daggers, as if to say it’s a little too obvious.

"Wow she sounds like a real piece of work. I know someone like that too. " Minju turns with bottle in hand, hair swirling around her as she does so. She's graceful. Unbothered and unhurried by anything. "This one is perfect. This bottle is older than me."

She pours two fresh drinks with more ice in each.

"Am I going to regret this in the morning?" you question as the weight of the glass finds your hand.

"You might. But at this moment? No."

You trust her, somehow, inexplicably; you do.

She asks, “so, what will you do now?” it’s a question as funny as it is difficult to answer. 

The truth is that you haven’t got the slightest clue. You tell her as much and try to explain it as best you can, and her eyes soften as you share the details. It’s supposed to be a back-and-forth—quid pro quo—but she’s pressing you with question after question: how long have you known her? Is she pretty? Where does she see you in all of this?

“You and her. Still a thing?”

Minju is on your side of the bar now, sitting by your side with little caution about personal space; there’s not an inch of space between you. Her thigh presses against you and her upper arm is flush with your own.

"Me and Wonyoung were never a thing, not really."

Minju stops dead and chokes, holding her throat, and forcing the drink down. Her whole body shifts. She nearly falls off the bar stool and, after steadying herself, she stares blankly forwards.

"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?"

"Yeah, her." The new drink meets your lips and its taste is a hell of a lot richer than the cheap stuff you were pouring down. It’s laden with a smoky taste over sweet tones.

There's a silence even after you finish taking a drink. Something untold hangs in the air. You know it. She knows it. She's here on the verge of telling you something, but what? And you sit here and wait, despite the racing of your heartbeat.

"I should have known." Minju shakes her head, laughing, but without a smile.

"Should've known what?"

"You're Wonyoung's new toy. I should have guessed as soon as I saw you, she has this effect on people."

You stiffen at that. It's always the truth that hurts the most and the fact is you really were just a toy. A convenient dildo.

"You know what you need right now?" She twists on the stool, and suddenly, you've got Minju looking straight at you. Eyes locking with you. Right there. Looking up at you. So close. Right there, leaning back ever so slightly so her chest arches towards you, accentuating her small breasts, straining against her shirt.

"Drinking helps," you reply, raising your glass.

"Yes, but so does fucking."

That’s a line. It’s one that shouldn’t come as a surprise because a girl like this probably has a lot of experience in being wanted, so who is to say she can’t turn the table for once? But in one breath you’re giddy, taken out of yourself and feeling drunker by the moment. Not on the booze, but her. She is intoxicating.

It takes you a few seconds to notice but her free hand slips on your leg, rubbing and caressing as it snakes further and further up.

"What?" You ask as if it needs confirmation and in those long few moments, you think you must have imagined it. And the same way a nervous laughter rises, the laughter spilling out of your throat, she is quick to quench the growing dread inside of you by sliding her palm across your bulge.

"Wait here." Something has switched inside her. You don’t know what, but either way, it's got her standing up and strutting towards the door. With each step, she opens her body language. A growing swagger, letting you see the sway of her hips. Left and right. Just enough to catch the eye. And oh boy, does your eye get caught. You couldn't pull your gaze away now if you wanted to.

She's swiping hands at the door now and flicking the locks. Then she's pulling the blinds shut. A giggle comes from Minju as she spins back to face you. She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and stares right into you.

You feel exposed but, strangely, comfortable. It's so very odd; with no clue as to what happens next. It has your heart pounding out of your chest.

"I thought you were alone tonight because you were upset, but no, I understand it now. You're frustrated. Angry. Stressed. She used you and got away with it."

She kicks off her heels, loses a few centimetres in height, and is walking barefoot across the floor - toward you. Her shoulder rolls to one side and then to the other as her body rises and falls, sashays with the pace of her hips. She can see that you're stuck. You’re rooted to the seat with a dumb look on your face, and yet she saunters ever closer.

“I am a little confused,” you finally say. She's so close that all your senses are lost to the approach of Minju's swaying frame. Her curves, her body, her gentle steps, the way her perfume smells—it's consuming you.

She ignores you and continues, "I’m frustrated too. I'm so frustrated that I'm wasting time in this damn bar. I'm angry at all the auditions that ended up with producers rejecting me. I know exactly what you're feeling. You're angry at the world and everyone in it." Her tone grows raspier. More raw and less stable. "You feel alone. Hung out to dry and in need of attention."

"And you feel the same?"

"Yes, and I'm hungry. Starved of any real satisfaction. You told me I’m going nowhere and I guess it means I need a little attention, too."

You watch her eyes flittering as she looks you up and down. The sultry grin she wears shows she likes what she sees.

"So what are you going to do about it, Minju? What is the solution?" You drop a look down to the soft and slender flesh of her neck.

"No strings. We get this all out of our system." Minju leans in. Lips so close to yours. She stays there. It's torture. "You let all that shit out. Take out your pent-up stress, frustration, anger."

"On you?"

"Exactly. You'll feel better. I will too. Because right now…" Her nose presses against the side of your own. Soft skin. Gentle pressure. "I need it rough."

Her hand lands on your thigh again, rubbing down the denim of your jeans.

The offer is enticing. It has your head swimming with dirty images of everything the two of you could do together, and your cock? Well, that's already twitching in your underwear.

"This isn’t going to help, it will just make things worse."

"Can they really get any worse?"

Minju brings your hand, hers and yours, to her waist. Your thumb feels the soft material of her shirt, and your fingers touch that small patch of skin below it.

"Are we prepared to find out?" Your lips graze gently against hers. The thrill. The electricity in the air.

"I’m ready. More than ready. Just this once, do what you want to do and make me the star of your fantasy. Use me. Make me everything you need." She plants her lips firmly on yours. You both go quiet, muffled by a kiss.

Nothing to do but feel.

Minju's grip tightens on your leg, and yours on her waist. The other hand slides up to her chest, finding her breast, cupping it and feeling her. She opens her mouth. And you follow. Your tongues are colliding and sweeping across one another, eager and desperate.

So you push, guiding the two of you to stand. Minju staggers back, and you're with her every step of the way. Stumbling through a kiss. Hands everywhere. Uncertain. Lost, confused, and passionate. It's an incoherent tumble that takes you both crashing through chairs, pushing them aside until you hit something sturdy. Minju's ass slams against the pool table and she grunts into your mouth.

Her lips drag away and she smiles. "Fuck me."

You grab her by the hips, lifting her onto the pool table.

"I need to see the big cock that’s got Wony all worked up. She wouldn’t settle for anything disappointing." She's fumbling at your waist, struggling with the buckle of your jeans.

"This what you want?" Your words vibrate through her. And when you take a handful of her hair and tug, there's a long, soft, desperate sigh from Minju's parted lips.

"Use me. Abuse me." Her fumbling finally succeeds and the waist of your trousers slackens. "I know how I look, but don't worry, you're not going to break me."

She's pushing at your trousers, your boxers, and when that stiff dick pops out, her smile spreads into a big, stupid grin. It's not an unattractive expression—not really. It just tells the truth. She is excited. 

It’s as clear as day that you are too. You’re rock hard, stiff as hell, ready to fuck, and this, this will give you the chance to let it all out. All of it.

"Perfect." Minju grabs your cock in both hands, still warm, throbbing, and strong. "Just look at this thing."

You pull on her hair again, harder, until she breaks away from you, until she gives way—losing the grip on your cock and falling back on the table. And now you slow as if to savour the moment as you’re sliding your fingers under the waist of her trousers. Not often you get afforded a measure of control.

"C’mon, please, don't be gentle," Minju moans out through gritted teeth. The desperation is painted on her face and that’s the difference here: while a girl like Wonyoung wouldn’t let you go slow, Minju is the type of girl who makes you not want to go slow.

So you pull at the trousers of the girl sprawling out in front of you, tearing the button from the fabric, yanking them open and pulling them down those long, slender legs. The flesh is soft. And to touch, so smooth and light. Minju's breathing picks up—becoming shorter and deeper with each touch to her sensitive skin.

"I might leave marks."

Minju stares you down, hands already massaging over her panties. "I hope you will."

The thought is intoxicating, so much more so than the alcohol in your blood, as your hands paw over her legs; you knead soft skin with a kind of aggression you haven't felt before.

Minju is a rare girl.

Beautiful. And by definition, beautiful women have seen it all before.

But her?

The look she gives? Like no man has ever fully satisfied the itch within her. It's deep-set hunger. The kind that she chases endlessly for.

This hunger makes people behave stupidly, careless and forgetful of the consequences. And maybe you know that all too well but even still it's a risk worth taking. Every choice has led you here and maybe that is your solace, that it's not all downhill from here.

And as your hands reach her small satin panties, the warmth embraces you, and the urge within you grows. You hook your fingers inside and draw the panties aside to expose the tight pink flesh of Minju's cunt.

Not that you would expect anything else, but she is clean-shaven. So smooth. Not a single blemish. This is a girl who kept herself neat and pristine, and yet from her mouth spills utter filth, "just look at how wet this pussy is for you."

She's running her fingers between her lips, showing you everything she has to offer between her legs, showing you where she expects you dick will get put to use.

"This tight fucking cunt can take everything your thick cock has to give."

"Minju, you’re so..." You're standing over her, her legs spread wide beside you, blazer falling from her shoulders leaving nothing covering her but that low-cut top.

Minju stares right at you, eyes fixed, wide and eager, her chest heaves with every deepening breath she takes in. She's wild, reaching for you with one hand, stretching to hold you and then pulling at your shirt to draw you in.

"I'm so needy. Please fuck me." She's whining through closed lips as her other hand slips away from her pussy and glides over her taut abs and leaving her cunt ready to be used. She wants it, desperately, and you're drawing it out. Making it build inside her, and you hold your cock in your hand.

You're stroking, and she's watching. And for all her strain to pull at your shirt, to pull you into her, you hold back. You hold just long enough. Enough for her arm to fall limp. Enough for her to almost give in. "Please..." she trails off with a whimper.

You push the head of your stiff cock against her cunt—against her clit. Your hips roll as you run the entire underside of your cock between her lips. She gasps and breathes deeply. She's holding it all the while. All the time it takes for you to draw your cock back, so the tip is right there. Ready.

She let's go as you do. The air escapes her lungs with a sharp squeal. You let your cock sink in. Slow but persistent, you push further and further, feeling her tensing. Then the clench and tightness overwhelms. She gasps and squirms, wriggles beneath you and her nails scratch at the fabric of the table beneath her.

You push again, sinking your cock as far as you can through her wet hole.

There's a loud snap and squeal from Minju. Pretty girl broke a nail. It flew off somewhere across the room, such is her grip onto the table. "Fuck. So fucking full," she manages, barely. It's more the noise you force from her than any actual communication.

You draw your hips back and she's quick to encourage you, "again," she says.

Your hips are driving forward again, pushing every last centimetre back through her.

Minju whimpers. There's this short, sweet purr from deep within her. You feel her stretch, she moves a little, adjusting herself atop the pool table. There's a warmth that swells, tightens, and pulsates. And you feel the breath come easier. It leaves her as though her body has settled to a kind of ease and pleasure, some form of satisfaction.

You refuse to let her rest. It's not what she would want.

It's not what you want.

You run your hands along her inner thighs, past her knees until you finally reach her ankles and pull them together and hold them aloft. You lift and pull her ass up slightly from the table. She's suspended now while you fuck into her.

The shake of her small frame is completely erotic. Watching her ass and thighs jiggle as you fuck into her. That plump little ass taking slap after slap from your hips.

Her perfect skin reddens as her moans louden the longer you last. There are high-pitched squeals and low and gritty growls. They bounce around the empty bar, reverberating and multiplying—echoing back louder than before.

"Harder." She thinks she can take more. Look, Wonyoung was demanding, she wanted to control everything and push your limits, but Minju? Minju is whole different type of demanding. She's welcoming everything you have with every fibre of her being. Her pussy so eagerly taking it all, and it just seems like no matter what limit you push past, or the more Minju takes, the more she craves.

You pull her legs to you, calves on your shoulders, feet in the air, and your hands move firmly onto her hips. You steady her—ready her. Your grip bruises the tender skin (hey, it's what she wants) and then you fuck her like your life depends on it. Your cock pumping inside with reckless abandon.

"Keep going! Just like that! Fuck!" her voice rises over the rhythm of your low grunts, and the crack of your hips slapping against her ass.

Minju's face twists, red and flushed. She's so tense. Muscles tight around the neck and her teeth buried in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Her voice is low and raw, growling, as she pleads for more with words you can't pretend to understand. It's not eloquent or graceful... In fact, it's that incoherence that makes this all the better—so utterly unbothered, unconcerned with anything other than being thoroughly used, fucked and defiled.

She has that hungry glaze in her eyes when you look down upon her, a girl being exactly the kind of filthy thing she promised to be. And those eyes only draw you in, you're pushing over her, folding her legs further against her body until she's truly helpless. Pinned to the table. Bent in two. No ability, nor want, to stop you from dominating her.

"I'm gonna—" she tries to speak until you press down, right into her. She squeezes your cock inside that tight, creaming hole. Then she whines, loud.

So loud.

Her back would arch high if it could. But she can't break free. You have her completely immobilized with your upper bodyweight. And fuck does she love every second of it. She's got handfuls of her shirt, pulling it, clutching, writhing. Ecstasy courses through her and eyes roll.

And now she's rolling, you're turning her. Ankles in your hands, you have pulled out and you're flipping her onto her front, face down into the table. She’s just… accepting it. Not an ounce of fight in her. Not even a word. Just a throaty moan.

"Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” you’re ordering, “give me your hands.” 

She reaches her arms back over her subdued body and lets you take her delicate wrists.

She submits.

Just lying there prone, her delicate body against the table, with that tight little ass perched on the edge of it, and that skimpy underwear still pushed aside for her throbbing cunt. Those slender legs left hanging either side of you. And go on, you're allowed to think it in the simplest of terms; Minju is sexy. In a word, that's it. Sexy. And yet, the reality is there's so much more you can say. Every soft curve of her toned body is alluring, she is magnetic and inviting, and that cute face peering over her shoulder, long hair spilled all behind it. All the words in the world couldn't do justice to describe her—couldn't properly capture the image.

"What are you going to do to me, daddy?" Oh, she says it so seamlessly, slips it in like it's been on her lips for a while - floating in the atmosphere since you took control. And now that it's finally landed, you feel its weight. It has her voice different; smokey and dripping with sex. And it hits you straight between your legs. 

She licks her lips and tests it out again, just for good measure: "what does daddy think I deserve?" 

One hand holding her wrists against the small of her back, another gripping her hip. Her legs sway lazily, unable to reach the floor. Helplessly dangling, waiting for her fate. And you're not a man to disappoint a girl like Minju.

"I'm going to use the needy little slut in front of me," you say as the head of your stiff cock probes at her cunt, slipping between her wet lips and sliding against her swollen clit. Teasing her. 

You draw it back up again and pushing apart her ass cheeks with the length of your cock. Slipping under the thin fabric of her soaked panties.

She bites her lower lip and whimpers through her teeth. The head of your wet cock slides against her tight asshole, and her hips twitch back. "Whatever you need, take it from me." She means that. There's yearning in every word. The hunger and desire in her voice growing thicker.

You push against her, cock sandwiched between her cheeks, pushing your weight down and pressing her against the table. Her eyes close for a moment, her fingers curl into her palms.

"Yes. Fuck," Minju's desperate encouragement spills through clenched teeth.

You pull back your cock and replace it with your thumb, sliding your hand over her ass and slipping it against her puckered hole.

"Please da—" You slip the tip of your thumb just inside her ass and hold it there while she holds her breath. 

Anticipation— 

Waiting— 

Knowing what's coming next. 

Minju is completely still as you drive your cock into her cunt again. Sinking yourself in so deep—balls deep. Her hands become tight fists and her whole body is shaking. You withdraw and plunge again, and she hisses, breathing from the bottom of her lungs, ragged and shallow, and fighting to speak.

"I'm a dirty, needy, little slut and you’re going to use me—"

You spit at her spread ass, right onto your thumb, and use it to dig a little deeper. "What are you?" your question provokes an instant answer,

"I'm a horny slut. I'm a fuck-hole. That's what I am."

As if it's a reward for her honesty, you fuck her a little harder. Push your thumb a little deeper. She smiles through a howl of ecstasy, the sound swelling into the room.

"Tell me again," you command with another pump of your hips, stretching her even more with your thumb.

Her words crackle, dying in her throat with each impact of your hips, "I'm just a dumb girl who needs to be full of cum."

No sane man would refuse it. Not you, not anyone. Definitely not you at all. You couldn't resist any part of her, but especially not that filthy demand. Especially not with how you felt watching those gorgeous fucking curves ripple every time your hips slapped against her ass.

It's all so easy, how you continue, keeping pace. Thumb deep in her ass. Balls smacking against her soaked pussy with every thrust. It's a pleasure all too overwhelming—a thrill, a sensation, a powerful sense of utter fucking satisfaction and all-consuming desire—an erotic overflow inundates, a swell, an ever-growing crest inside your balls.

"Minju. I'm. Gonna—"

"Cum in me? Please." She's the hallmark of innocence-gone-wrong; the way such words roll off her tongue with playful ease. And she knows all the right ones. The ones that she knows will bring all the right reactions. To speak to you on a primal level. She's at it again, cutting into you, "Inside— Inside me."

Cutting through you like the blade of a knife, right to your core and you obey—fuck.

"Daddy please."

You're incensed.

Dogged with the pounding you're giving her, you have lost control of just how deep you have your thumb in her ass. This is so Indecent. Obscene, even. For you, or for anyone, to just... enjoy something like this. Your body is roaring with lust as her ass and cunt both squeeze on you, clamping you as you drive yourself to the brink.

"I wanna... feel your hot load," her voice comes shaking through the unabated pounding you're inflicting. "Fill me please," she's begging and it sounds a little clearer now, stronger, a little louder, no doubt because she knows it's almost done.

You tug at her wrists, pulling her arms back and her body away from the table. Her head hangs forward beneath a wave of hair. Face covered by sweat streaks across those pretty sculpted features.

"Please, I'll be a good girl and take every drop. All the fucking cum that daddy has. Make me your stupid dirty little slut," she compels, then yelps with every new slam and stroke of the stiff cock being buried into her again and again.

That tight asshole, and that cock-hugging pussy. All the relentless slamming that you have done and will do. All the desires, with the pent-up frustration, the rage and anger and tension that has built up—you release it. Everything goes as you send your load rushing through your cock to paint her insides.

Pushing everything you have in. Pumping. Driving hard.

Her squeals are like music to the soul. Relief and rapture are overflowing. And fuck. What a ride. What a rush. You pump her full until she's gasping for air, struggling in your grasp and making sure to moan each and every dirty word into the atmosphere as she fights to hold on. What a thrill. And as the two of you hit the limits of physical exhaustion and exhilaration, you pull back. Letting the girl lay there, spent, and filled, on the pool table.

Used.

Satisfied.

Sullied.

Minju to you, today, is a feeling of freedom. Fulfilment. Absolution. As she lay limp, arms out, legs hanging, hair draped over her face and pooling on the table—a girl well fucked and on display. She is satisfaction. And she is dripping with your cum.

She slips her fingers under her panties. That shrivelled piece of fabric that clings, or struggles to. Now she pushes them off her hips and they tumble over her feet.

When this beautiful girl speaks her voice has the distinct scratch of someone whose lungs have had the oxygen stolen from them, her throat sore with moaning, "I need more."

She moves to her back and you can only watch in amazement as she turns to you with that flush face. One of her small, delicate hands falling between her legs and her dainty fingers tracing around her cunt—through her pink folds, and dousing them in your leaking cum.

There's a knock at the door. It rattles in the frame. "Open up!" It's the voice of the young man seeking an afternoon drink. You think that, luckily, hopefully, between the blinds, the posters and the neon lights in the windows along with the dim lighting, he can't see in.

"Fuck off!" Minju shouts. Her chest is heaving, and there are the gentle lulls of a giggle welling in her throat.

You notice she hasn't moved the fingers away from her swollen and sticky cunt. There's a building cackle, almost as if she is going to fall into hysterics.

"Let me in! You should be open!"

"I said fuck off!" Minju's climbing from the table with a wild smile on her face. Cum is trailing from her cunt, pooling, oozing, dripping down her thigh, down her leg. Her tongue slides over her lips, she's eying you up like a tiger.

"I want to ride your thick cock." She's breathing the words out heavy and finally pulling that shirt over her head. Small round breasts exposed. Stiff dark nipples. Hard and taught. That bare torso. Tight and tone. Firm and solid. Every muscle defined under glistening, sweaty skin.

She pushes herself against you until you push between a pair of stools and your ass plants against the bar. "You made me a dirty girl, and now I can't stop."

You find her strength a little unnerving, the way seems so unphased and determined. She's running on pure adrenaline. It's hot, sure, a kind of raw passion is certainly not without appeal, but also maybe a touch too overpowering. The way that she grabs at you, a touch forceful, and the way you come together is perhaps too rough and less than elegant.

So unkempt, un-romantic, yet so insanely gratifying as her soft skin finds yours.

You take her body in your arms, lips on one another, exploring mouths with tongues. Grasping the round cheek of her ass as she lifts her left thigh up to your waist. Hand trailing between the two of you and then grabbing a firm hold of your cock, guiding the thing back to her pussy—and not letting go.

This is it. This is where she belongs.

It’s all so natural for her to be on the end of your cock, so much so that she can casually pull away from the kiss to switch her focus to finding a drink on the bar behind you. She’s taking a drink of it now and some of it spills from the corner of her mouth.There is something undignified in that, but utterly perfect nonetheless.

She's grinding against you now, swirling her hips and cooing like a little kitten, as your hands move over her ass and that silken smooth back.

Minju sets the empty glass back down on the bar, and pulls back to meet your eyes. She presses a finger to her tongue, her eyes gleaming and focused solely on you, as she guides a small, playful trail of drool to run over her glistening tits. "Fuck," she breathes through a grin, taking both her hands and smoothing that drool over her chest.

Another knock at the door. Another fist pounded into its frame.

All these fucking interruptions.

"Ugh! Fuck this. Come on, follow me." And before you know it, she's guiding you across the room. "I'm going to ride you until I can't walk. Until I'm so sore that every step will remind me what it felt like to have you deep inside me."

Your phone rings, on the floor in the pocket of your trousers. Who would call right now? Just as one interruption finally concedes at the door, another emerges.

Minju bends to fish it out of your trousers. Her little ass, one cheek marred with a handprint from your grasp, is so close you could bend forward and eat it (any other time, you would.) but it's not that which intrigues you the most. When she rises, slowly, your phone is in her grasp, screen displaying Wonyoung's name.

"This should be fun," Minju chuckles to herself. She swipes the answer button and raises the device to her ear. "Hello?"

Minju reaches out to hold your hand and pulls you toward the staff only door. "Sorry, he's a little busy right now," she says as she walks through the door with you in tow. Her head pivots. Minju stares, eyes boring deep into yours. That sultry expression. The spark of desire igniting all over again.

Minju turns on her heel, letting you go and taking a step back. Thin fingers stroke over her cum-soaked thigh, up and along her wet lips, higher and past her flat stomach, sliding between her firm tits. "He is really busy."

She points at the couch in the break room, gesturing you to sit. You oblige, a little nervous about the turn of events. She's rubbing at her perky little tits as she speaks, "do you want me to take a message?"

"Minju..." you say with warning, ready to take the phone off her. But it's so hard to ignore how utterly sexy she is, and your hand starts to stroke along your shaft. She turns her body and poses, looking over her shoulder to you, and she grins. Minju affords you all the time you need to admire her while she listens to the ramblings of Wonyoung through your phone.

Minju steps toward you, looking down at you. "You need to speak to him?" She rests a hand on your shoulder, and then she clambers over you, straddles you. Her leaking cunt right above your cock. She licks her lips and rubs her slick pussy over your stiff dick, eyes focused on you, head tilted down. "Give me one second."

She holds the phone against her collar and shifts above you, resting the tip of your cock against her hole.

"Minju, let me—"

She sinks onto your cock. 

Inch by pleasurable inch, she takes you. Minju rocks forward and adjusts to settle on the length of your rod. Fully hilted and stuffed. She's a slick sheath of velvet on your stiff rod and you realise then just how perfectly she fits on you. You bite your tongue, trying to not make a noise so you don't alert the woman on the other end of the phone. Minju, however, is careless, and she lets out a soft moan as she shifts on you, readying herself.

Cum still seeps out of her cunt and down your shaft—your own and hers in some messy cocktail. The smell is sharp but unmistakable. It hangs in the air as the unmistakable evidence of what has happened and what will happen again. It’s so potent; invigorating and exciting. A reminder of everything and more, as if you would ever forget it—as if you could ever forget what she has become for you.

Minju draws the phone back to her face and, with a cocky smirk parting her lips, she speaks again, her voice breathy and full of lust. 

"He's in a bit of a tight spot right now." She throws you a wink and continues, "give him ten—wait, no—give him fifteen minutes and whatever is left of him is all yours."

There's the sound of a voice coming through the phone, so unmistakably Wonyoung's but you can't make a word of it out. There's another sound, one much dirtier, that fills the air between the two of you. The soft squelching as Minju rocks and rotates those full hips on you.

"Sorry, what was that?" Minju is stifling a giggle and not-really trying to keep the naughtiness of the situation in check. "Yeah, Wonyoung,you’re right. It's me, Minju," she purrs, biting her lip as her eyes fix on you. Then her tongue flits from her lips, sweeping from left to right.

‘It's me, Minju.’

Look, it’s not really a surprise that they know each other well. It was always a possibility that Minju had just heard of Wonyoung but had never really been acquainted. Thinking back, however, the strength of her reaction to the girl’s name should have told you everything. The truth is now ever so clear. 

Not that Minju is going to let you process it. She will not allow you to focus on anything other than the caress of her pussy over your sensitive cock. She's elegant with the movements of her hips—the motions subtle and slow. Her pace is sinful. She's running her tongue over her teeth and staring at you, enjoying the quiet grunts that rattle from your throat.

"He showed up in—" Her breath hitches and she catches a moan in her throat before it escapes. "In the bar, drinking alone."

There's a gasp, then another as she strokes her hands through the locks of your hair. "Yeah. He was doing that." She's laughing under her breath and looking you up and down. "That thing with his hand, yeah, it's cute."

“What? No. I wouldn’t.” You’re getting half a conversation and none of it makes any sense.

She reaches out her hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing the line of your jaw and her body leaning in. "He's got a sexy jaw line," she admits and then picks up the speed of her movement. 

Her hand slides down your neck and presses into your collar. "His body?" Minju hums as her hips are churning; her body is rolling and her abs are flexing. "Yeah, I think so too."

Minju's back arches and her tiny tits bounce as her movement changes, bouncing rhythmically on your cock. She's adjusting and getting more comfortable on you. As the seconds pass, she's getting rougher and moving ever faster. 

Fuck.

"Well, he's drunk, so it's no surprise."

It's been no end of strange situations over the past couple of months, but this may well be the strangest yet. The girls are having a friendly conversation, but one is on top of a cock that's dripping with her mess.You're still trying to piece it together. They're friends—that much is clear. But there's still so many questions unasked: How? Since when? And why are they having their catch up right fucking now?

Her delicate frame moves fast now and the rise and fall of her chest growing sharper leading to short breaths.

"Mhm," she utters, keeping her voice low and words at a premium. "N—No we aren't." To give her credit, she's actually very good at sounding natural. In some twisted way, it's one hell of an audition for how talented of actress she can actually be. 

But that image comes crumbling down before your eyes.

Just for a moment, the picture freezes. Her mouth is half-open, eyes wide. She bites down on her lip, silencing herself, and then she drops her hand from her ear. She's hitting her fist, clenched around the phone, against her thigh repeatedly as she fights against her own body. There's another choked grunt as she is being pushed ever so close to the edge.

She draws the phone to her face again, breathing in deep and staring at you with those glossy eyes scanning all across your body, and she swallows. 

"We aren't fucking," Minju denies, as your hands creep up from her slender thighs, sliding over those beautiful taut hips, gripping tight and helping pull her back and forth. It's clear, from the way she bites down on her bottom lip, the subtle trembling of her chin, she's hanging on by a thread, ready to lose it at any second.

"No. Don't—" Minju holds the phone out, and she’s looking at it—you can see it too—Wonyoung has just ended the call. "Ah fuck it." Minju throws the phone down on the couch.

She looks at you with a face that's a little lost in thought, considering things unknown to you. All while her body is on auto-pilot, still fucking down onto you. 

After a moment, her face changes, an expression of indifference, of calmness. She smiles a little and rests both of her hands on your shoulders. Staring deep into your eyes, she grows ever more serious with a tinge of intent. She shifts from auto-pilot to manual, tightening the grip with her legs and slowing the pace, but fucking you harder.

Minju rides the ridge of your cock. Your whole length is dragged up and down her insides, setting every inch of you on fire. She moans every time she slams onto you. 

Every time. 

She's falling further apart in front of you—coming completely undone. Eyes rolling and biting that lip again. Hips shifting in all kinds of directions. A cacophony of beautiful grunting sounds that flood the room.

Minju is a woman derailed by pleasure.

"God. Your cock— Your cock is—" She's struggling now and you're only going to make it worse. Using the hands on her hips, you buck yourself up into her, bringing yourself a fraction closer each time. 

"The things this cock— the things you— fuck." Minju has no power to string any kind of sentences together, no matter how many words you force from her. They grow less and less like words you can understand until all that remains are these loud and unashamed gasps. 

Gasp after sharp and unstoppable gasp.

The rush of exhilaration courses through her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels it. All over. It's written on her face, in the way that she moves and in the look in her eyes. A look like that is a hard thing to fake, even for her—there's nothing else like it. Minju is cumming all over your cock and every bit of it is evident in every tense muscle, the quiver in the corner of her mouth, the sheen across her brow, the mist in her eyes as she blinks lazily and tries not to be overcome, overawed, with emotion and all the intense sensations, one wave after another, rippling through her.

You're just about there again too. You try to warn her, but you're fucking up into her with so much energy that you're not sure if the words ever left your mouth. But she knows it, somehow, because she has renewed aggression in her. Even through her orgasm, she's bouncing on your cock with such ferocity. Minju takes hold of your head and draws you into her. Nose to nose. Foreheads touch. "Cum in me again."

They're four of the best words she could have said.

She rides you faster still as you pump rope after hot rope into her cunt, your entire length filling her already overflowing cunt. You cum so hard inside her that the world seems to distort, twist, and wane.

"Yes! Yes!" she shouts in a whisper—her voice stolen by pleasure. "Fill my little pussy."

And with every last ounce of strength you have, you continue. Bucking into her, driving deeper with the last throes of your second load. It's too much. It's beyond pleasure and into pain now, as you have nothing left to give her.

You squeeze at her hips and waist, holding her down and doing everything you can to stop her fucking you.

You're panting. Tired. Done.

Done.

Minju raises herself just enough to slip that ruined and swollen cockhead from the depth of her. You watch as your combined fluids flow out of her onto your leg.

All that filth, a dirty combination of the two of you. Two loads of your cum drained into that one pretty pussy.

Minju is stroking a hand up your stomach, your chest, along your neck and jawline. Across your face and to your chin, so slowly, as if memorising your features.

You watch her body, so fucking perfect, flexing and trembling still and her breasts heave beneath sweat and exertion. Her breath is so ragged that a chuckle emerges between the hard, deep inhales and exhales. She's sweating, perspiration painting her body and strands of long hair matted to her head. So beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.

She looks into your eyes, studying, thinking. "You feel better now," her voice has returned to the softness of before, low and sultry. "Don't you?"

With a smile, your hands move again, wandering further up. They snake their way around her slender waist. There's something strange, something new, about how they explore her—before, you were quick to set them and demand control. But not now. Now, it's tender and grateful and you have a slow, searching rhythm to the touches that skim the skin across her skin. 

"Yeah." It's honest. You do. She has done her magic, she has restored the balance, and the release has cleared a space within the self, within the mind. You stare back into her gaze, "thank you."

"No." Minju brings her head forward, her face almost colliding with yours. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed, I really—" She bites down on her lips and hesitates. She pauses for a second before she begins to move herself off you. Standing up straight, wobbling for a moment on the spot before stepping off and the sticky remains of your fucking cling to her inner thighs, glistening on the flesh, thick and trailing down from her hole.

She stares at you for a moment in some profound silence. You sit on the couch, on that musty old fabric, fully spent and staring. She's searching for something, eyes drifting over the room until it catches her eye, and she heads right for it.

You find the strength to stand and as you do, you’re still watching the sway of her body—noticing each bounce of her perfectly formed butt. Your eyes linger, appreciating the body that was given to you, enjoyed by you, and that gave so much to you. Your strength slowly builds from within, your legs are sore, your stomach and core are aching, your lungs feel crushed.

She's fumbling around on the table for something, she's leaning over slightly, her thighs pressed together. She wears sex like a crown—the pride, confidence, and accomplishment manifesting in her natural glow. Minju radiates. There's always something so electric about a woman in the post coital haze.

"You smoke?" she asks.

"No."

"You should," she says as she turns, fishing one out of the pack and perching herself on the edge of the table, crossing over her legs. "Makes you less nervous. You might need it."

There's an elegance in the way she slips the filter between her lips. An attractiveness in the casual way that she places the box down. With practiced poise, she flicks her wrist with lighter in hand so it flips open and her thumb runs against the sparkwheel. Once, twice, and on the third go the light takes and the flame holds steady. Minju lights the end of the cigarette and leans in, taking a deep draw and holding it.

It's mesmerising to watch. The way her mouth closes around the stick, how the soft glow dances upon her features. A darkness in the hollows of her cheeks as the smoke fills within, while she flicks the lighter back closed and slides it on the table.

Minju tilts her head back as her lungs empty, billows and tendrils escape into the room.

In the silence, you've had some realisation.

Minju is cool.

Like— really cool.

So you stand naked, facing her, in the breakroom of the bar she... works in? Owns? Hell, you don't even know that. Doesn't matter. And you finally ask her, "how do you know Wonyoung?"

For a long moment she just smiles, blowing smoke towards you, teasing with silence.

"We go way back," she says, and that is hardly the complete answer that you've hoped for. 

Eventually, she offers more. "High school. We were friends." Minju studies the cigarette, eyeing the burning stub. "Guess you could say we were closer than that. Fuck. If not for—"

Silence.

And yet you wait.

"Well, there was this boy," she continues eventually, offering a soft and resigned smile. "My crush, and then my boyfriend. He was my first. First kiss, first date. First—" Minju looks over to the wall and inhales hard on the cigarette again. She breathes in slowly and you watch the small ember dance, the edges turning amber and glowing bright before she brings the cigarette down and flicks ash in the tray.

"What happened?" you ask, taking a seat alongside her on the table, pushing a cup aside to make space. It's not exactly hygienic, but nothing the two of you just did was.

"Wonyoung happened. Right before we left school, he left me for her and he thought he had a chance, but, well, you know Wonyoung. She's unattainable."

"You blame her?"

"Fuck no. But it didn't exactly bring us closer. He left me for her, she rejected him. What a mess."

There is always something when Wonyoung is in the picture, a messy little tangled web, something hidden behind those silky smiles. She's the reason for many lost loves and many lonely nights. You take a pause to appreciate that fact—to see what's really at the core. She’s the common denominator. Wonyoung—the arrogant heartbreaker.

"So what was all that about? On the phone?" you ask, trying to make some sense of it all.

Minju laughs aloud, tilting her head back and blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. She holds her cigarette between her slim fingers and rests her other hand on your thigh. "I wanted to play with her a little. I wanted her to know. Because well, and no offense, but you’re one of her possessions. She basically owns you. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda hot, but I wanted to see how she would react."

"So you teased her."

"Pretty much."

She laughs a little. There is some spark in her eye, born out of childish fun.

"Don't think she cares," you shrug.

You both turn toward the door that leads back into the bar. You both heard it. Out there. The knock against the front door of the bar.

Minju turns to you, crushing her cigarette into the ashtray beside her. There's a smirk on her lips and amusement in her eyes. In that look alone, there's a lot to unpack; there's an air of knowing, a glimmer of deviousness, and something else lurking beneath the surface.

"Then why is she knocking on the door?"

#minju smut #minju x reader #izone smut #kim minju smut #kpop smut #male reader #m reader #wonyoung smut

[lieutnt]

it's midnight for me so happy new years everyone! the support this year has been immense and as a little thanks have this semi-small drabble. the holidays have been a little busy but posting should hopefully return to normal this week.

enjoy my thoughts on what would happen if you combine a tipsy 141 and a male reader who want to celebrate New Years.

Price can see how disheartened the 141, mostly Soap & Gaz, are by not being able to bring in the New Year properly while stuck on base. He agrees to a small celebration, some drinks and some food in the build up while you all sit round the telly waiting for the countdown.

Except, like most times it doesn’t go to plan. After a few drinks, a tipsy Soap is complaining about not having anyone to kiss at midnight and turns to you all puppy-eyed and pouty, asking if you’ll kiss him. With a roll of your eyes you agree, not one to turn down an excuse to make out with Soap again.

As the countdown starts, Soap drags you to him, noses almost touching as “3… 2… 1…” echoes from the tv. At the sound of fireworks he surges forward, capturing your mouth with his. It’s more than just a quick peck, Soap licking into your mouth and wrapping his arms around your neck to hold you close as he moans into the kiss, parting with a sigh and a thread of saliva connecting you. Price & Ghost watch silently stunned, pants a little bit tighter at the show but Gaz is quickly by your side, face heated with the alcohol in his system.

“I wanna kiss as well,” he mumbles in the fake saddest tone he can muster, eyes shining when you turn to him and kiss him. You repeat the process, pulling Gaz close and deepening the kiss, and the others can hear Gaz’s sighs and quiet moans before you pull away, thumb swiping across his lips.

“Happy now?” You ask, a gleam in your eye as Gaz shakes his head, turning to Soap and bringing him in for a kiss. They press against each other and it’s enough to have you chubbing up in your pants as they lose themselves in the kiss.

Stepping away you catch Price & Ghost staring, hips shifting minutely to loosen the fabric around their crotches. Walking towards Price you lean over his seated figure, eyes playful and filled with mischief. “You want one too, Cap?”

His face is dusted pink, lips parting like a fish out of water trying to think of anything to say before he nods his head, and as soon as your lips are connecting he’s cupping the side of your face with his palm, trying to resist the temptation to pull you down on top of him. The kiss is more chaste than the others, a few swipes of tongue before Price is pushing you away before he can get too excited, grumbling “Muppet,” under his breath.

You don’t know what to expect when you turn to Ghost but he’s already watching, waiting, as you quirk a brow in question. He nods slightly, reaching out to hold your hips as you walk towards him. “C’mere then,” he’s wearing a simpler mask this time, one he pushes up to expose his lips before he’s pulling you in with a hand on the back of your head, tongue immediately prodding for entrance into your mouth. Ghost kisses like he fights, dominating, intense, and when you pull away he’s looking satisfied with himself. 

The countdown finished long ago but you’re all still in the room, bulges obvious and with confidence you turn towards Gaz & Soap, “Want to go take care of your problems?” You question, eyes motioning downwards.

They can’t move fast enough, scurrying away and out of the room and before you leave you turn back towards Price & Ghost, “You two coming?”

Thinking it over in no time at all they both stand, eagerly following you to your room.

#task force 141 #task force 141 x male reader #top male reader #male reader #top reader #call of duty #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writings

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 2

back to PART ONE

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): none <3

(word count): 4K

(author’s note): hii i’m so happy to see all the love on part one! i’m so sorry this took a little longer than usual to be posted i’ve had a busy few days, i’ve got plans for one more part for this series, i hope you’ve enjoyed so far 🩷🩷 also I don’t know how i feel about the end of this part, so let me know any feedback!!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

Quickly, you opened his bedroom door to stand at the top of the stairwell, scanning over the living room with ease considering how high up you were. Making sure both your families were occupied with whatever thanksgiving nonsense had presented itself.

Quickly turning your head back to Spencer who stood in the doorway of his bedroom incredibly confused, you silently gestured to him to follow you with the nod of your head, it takes him a few seconds of internally fighting himself before he follows your lead, hopping down the stairs a few beats behind you before the both of you reach the bottom.

“You ready?” You say, getting on your tippy toes to whisper it quietly in his ear, you almost had forgotten how tall he was.

Confused, Spencer’s brows furrow before answering “ready for wh- Ow!” He groaned, hunching over a little at the pain, you felt a little bad for kicking him in the ankle with your boot, but you knew he deserved it a little for being so mean about your cupcake.

“Oh no!” You exclaimed, obviously acting to Spencer but you seemed to have convinced everyone else “I think Spencer sprained his ankle!” Gasping you pretend to comfort him moving him to the dining room chair as he glared at you from the side of his eye, almost instantly his parents had rushed over to the both of you instantly drowning him in worry.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Diana rushed reaching down to touch the ankle he had his hand over, he took a second to look up at you before answering.

“I don’t think so, it really hurts” he huffed rubbing the ankle in question, it shouldn’t have made you smile, but you thought it was sweet that he was going along with your plan and not immediately telling everyone you had just kicked him in the ankle.

It was like when you were kids creating elaborate stories as to why you needed $20 from your parents, claiming it was so you could buy a new textbook for class, when you really just bought Call of duty and played it in his room.

“I can take him to the ER” you offer looking down at Diana “he really shouldn’t be walking on it” nodding, you look between her and Spencer, attempting to read her facial expressions for any suspicions that this one really one big lie.

She looks up at Spencer for a moment, breaking her gaze with him to look at you before nodding “I think that’s a good idea” she smiles reaching up from Spencer to grab your hand in hers, you feel her soft warm palms grasp yours before she rushes to the kitchen for a moment.

Having both your families huddled around the both of you made keeping up the facade incredibly difficult, sure, you could lie to just about everyone and anyone, but lying to your family who knew you more than anything was beginning to become a little difficult.

Diana rushes back with an ice pack before leaning back down to Spencer’s ankle to press it against the bone softly. “Here” your dad mumbles, fishing his car keys from his left pant pocket before tossing them in your direction, so unexpectedly that you barely catch them, fumbling them in the process which causes Spencer to laugh a little beside you.

The first time you had heard him laugh all night, the first time you had heard him laugh in years.

“You’re dead if you scratch that car” your dad sternly tells you before he takes another swig of his beer, pressing your lips together nodding quickly, you glance back down at Spencer for a second seeing a small smirk grow on his face knowing everyone had believed your little coordinated stunt.

After a few moments of hustle, you recruit Brodie to help hobble Spencer out to the black suv as both your parents follow behind, you were still shocked that the scheme had even worked, and that Spencer had gone through with it.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d come along?” Brodie shrugged, clicking his seatbelt before switching his gaze from the backseat between both you and Spencer.

“Get out” you smile nodding for him to leave.

“Why?” He spits, suspicions growing in his mind as his gaze flicks faster between you and Spencer “and since when are you guys even friends?” confused his mouth agape while memories of both Spencer and you being absent from the night caught up to him, if you were going to get away with something, it wasn’t going to be with brodie, that boy was seemingly always one step ahead of you.

He continues to look between the both of you as you both stammer for a response “Oh gross!” He exclaims unbuckling his seatbelt in an instance “are you guys hooking up?” His mouth drops, absolutely staggered by his own conclusion.

Seemingly one step ahead.

You and Spencer stare at each other mouths agape before Spencer begins to loudly, and rudely start fake gagging in response to Brodie claims, shocked you slap Spencer on the shoulder shaking your head in offense, there is no way on earth that boy was seriously fake gagging at the thought of hooking up with you.

“I don’t think there’s a single universe where that would happen” Spencer presses his lips together rubbing his arm where you had inflicted your second act of violence against him tonight.

“Oh?…” Brodie trails off, still incredibly confused on what sort of game you both were playing here.

“I’ll you don’t leave I’ll tell mom how you accidentally linked her credit card to your ark account”

“Okay see ya!” His eyebrows raised before scurrying out of the backseat of the car slamming the door behind him.

You and Spencer sit in comfortable silence for a moment taking deep breaths, both shocked your plan had actually worked.

After a few minutes you break the silence “by the way, in that alternate universe where we don’t hook up, is because I rejected you not the other way around” you point at him before buckling your seatbelt, Spencer only responds by holding his hands up in defense.

The car ride was almost silent other than the sound of the radio quietly playing and your blinker clicking away at each turn, Spencer spent the time gazing out the passenger window watching the houses zoom past him and watched the trees sway in the wind. His mind catches up when he sees the familiar 2 storey white paneled house with your baby blue volkswagen beetle convertible parked in the driveway.

“Why are we at your house?” Spencer questions, concerned, every possible situation flashes through his mind, were you pranking him? Were all your friends waiting there to laugh at him?

You switched the car off before turning to answer “did you think you were going wearing that?” Raking your eyes across his outfit, cringing again at the sight of it “it’s thanksgiving, you’d think you’d at least wear something nice” scoffing you open the drivers seat door before hurrying into your home.

Spencer opens his door before rushing to trail behind you “this is my nice doctor who shirt” he mumbles looking down at his own outfit, ignoring whatever loser sentence had just come from his mouth you push open your door nodding for him to follow.

You don’t turn around to make sure he’s keeping up with you before you hurry up the stairs making a beeline for your bedroom, once Spencer realizes where you’re headed, his footsteps behind you slow down a little only causing you to turn around confused.

“Um I don’t think I should go in there” he mumbled, staring at your bedroom door like he had just seen a ghost.

“Why?” You question, confusion painted over your face.

“It’s just- I don’t know, I just don’t want to” he rushed, face turning pink in embarrassment, it was as if any sort of confidence he had before completely diminished in front of you.

What if he was right? All your friends were sitting in there waiting for him to enter obliviously. He could only imagine how loud their laughs would be, he could almost hear it ringing through his ears.

Tilting your head you watch Spencer as he stands in shock staring at your door, you wave your hand in front of his face, clicking him out of whatever world he had entered “You’re scared of my room?”

“No- no… there’s no one in there, is there?” He sheepishly responds, pink traveling up to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah Spence the whole cheer squad is in there” the colour instantly drains from his pink embarrassment ridden face “no, there’s no one in my room… weirdo” you whisper pulling the door handle to swing it open, Spencer almost flinched at the sight of your bedroom.

Unlike his, your room was completely re arranged, the colour of your walls even had even been painted from pastel pink to light grey. He took a moment to scan around the room, everything had a place, every colour cohesive. He paused a little when he glanced at the numerous photo frames scattered across your bedroom, frames that once held photos of you at dance competitions, photos of you and Spencer riding your bikes or at your birthday parties, had been replaced by photos of your cheer team or you and your group of friends at parties.

Except for the picture frame on your bedside table, inserted with a photo of the both of you from science camp discovering how hydrogen peroxide and potassium iodide reacted for the first time.

He felt his heart unwillingly tighten at the thought that you still cared about him at least a little.

“Alright” you mumble digging through your wardrobe drawers completely oblivious to Spencer wandering your room deep in thought “here!” You exclaim pulling the grey hoodie from the bottom of your drawer, you chuck it at Spencer unexpectedly causing him to stumble backwards a little at the impact.

“Who’s is this?” he wonders, holding the hoodie up to see the garment, which was evidently much too large for you.

“Mine” you answer, while you tried to tidy up your now messy wardrobe, he shoots you a look, and despite you not being able to see, you could feel it by the silence “I like to buy boys hoodies” shrugging you stand back up brushing past him to Brodies room, in search of some pants, letting out a little ‘aha!’ when you found the one nice pair of jeans brodie owned, which you had bought.

You tossed the jeans at his chest which is he surprisingly caught this time around. You stood in the doorway of your room for a moment while Spencer held the pile of clothes in his arms, stunned like a deer in headlights.

“I’m gonna go downstairs so you can change” you nod before closing the door and hopping down the stairs before he could respond.

You hadn’t even had time to check your phone since you had gotten to thanksgiving, switching it on, the screen filled with numerous group chat messages and texts from your friends asking if you were still coming, which only earned a groan from you, you loved your friends, really, but sometimes it felt like they always wanted something from you.

Snapped out of your thoughts by your door snapping closed, you look up from the kitchen island to see Spencer’s black converse stepping down the stairs.

You’d never actually seen him wear anything other than graphic T-shirt’s and sweaters before, and although you thought those were indeed very him. It was like you were seeing a completely different version of him.

a version that didn’t dress like a clone of your brother.

“I feel stupid” he chuckles looking down at what he was wearing.

“You look cute” you smile at him laughing a little before switching your attention back to your phone.

Although a small gesture from you, your words made Spencer huff with a loss of breath, not one person in his entire life besides his mother had called him cute, other than you.

He stood there reminded of the times you used to ensure he looked cute while wearing a tree costume for the annual middle school play, or when he broke his arm and you had to convince him he looked fine with his cast, although he felt stupid you had told him he looked cute, you even drew pink hearts on his cast to make sure he knew.

But you called everyone that, he knew it was your favourite adjective.

“Alright” you chirp snapping him from his thoughts “you ready to go?” Spencer fizzles out from his thoughts to respond with a nod, which you return with a smile grabbing your keys from the kitchen bench.

The car ride remained silence for the most part, ears filled with the speakers softly playing Faye Webster and the sounds of cars buzzing around you.

“You know, you’re a lot quieter then when I tried giving you that cupcake” you chuckle turning for a moment to look at Spencer’s jawline as he gazed out the passenger window.

You only watched him shrug from the corner of your eye before responding “I feel safer in my room… in my house I guess” mumbling Spencer looks down at his lap before he starts to pick at his fingers.

You glance over again, watching how the red like from the traffic light shone over his face, you lick your lips before answering “I like it when you’re nice to me” you admit sheepishly snapping your head to meet the road again.

“I’d like it if your friends were nice to me” he mumbles again not daring to meet your eyes scared of your reaction.

“What?” You respond furrowing your brows in confusion “are they not nice to you?” A concerned look shoots through your face turning to face Spencer once again, this time his gaze meets yours simultaneously.

Spencer’s face reads confused as well, why were you confused? You’d been at high school for almost 4 years at this point, you’d had to be stupid to not realise the social ladder that your peers had created to make people like Spencer feel inferior.

“Are you kidding?” He responds, same confused look painted across his face “they’re not nice to anyone but themselves, you’d have to be blind not to see it” convinced you were playing some sort of game, he doesn’t show any sort of affection in response, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

You both sit in silence for a minute before you muster up a response, you weren’t stupid, you knew your friends weren’t the nicest to everyone but you convinced yourself that if you never indulged it didn’t count, you were never mean to anyone so you never felt as if you had their words on your conscious.

Selfishly because they were never mean to anyone you really cared about, you thought.

“Am I mean to you?” You questioned quickly, searching his face for a reaction, it only twisted in question before he responded.

“I don’t think so” he whispers softly which you barely register over the music.

You knew you were, not outright mean but mean by association, you never stopped their comments about passing by students, you usually never indulged but you were just as mean for letting them go so nonchalantly, cause although not about Spencer, they were about somebody’s Spencer.

It’s almost like you could feel Spencer’s heart beating yourself, the view of the 3 storey modern shaped grey and white home was enough to make Spencer’s heart beat spike while he watched people run in and out of the house, people he knew, people he had classes with.

You couldn’t help yourself but reach over to grab Spencer’s cool hand “you’ll be fine” you nodded giving it a squeeze before letting go to unbuckle your seatbelt.

His heart did something other than beat profusely, it tightened as you dropped his hand, and he hated it.

Trailing behind you like a lost puppy he took a moment to examine his surroundings, he recognised almost every person stumbling in and out of the house from classes or kids he tutored.

Almost instantly, you were embraced by a wave of girls who he had recognised as your cheer friends, laughing and giggling while they squealed about your outfit and hair, he stood behind you feeling like he was made from glass being absolutely ignored by anyone in his vicinity.

He stood staring at the tops of his laces for a moment, the sounds of loud music and chatter filling his ears as he waited for you to turn your attention to him instead.

“Ready?” You chirp as your friends wondered off in different directions, you told them not to wait up, and frankly they were much too indulged in themselves to even register the 6 foot boy hiding behind you like a child.

The last time you had asked if he was ready, you sent your shoe straight to his ankle so he shot a confused look in your direction.

Noticing his concern you chuckle before grabbing his hand to drag him through the sea of drunken teenagers.

He looked down at your hand, your cool rings flush against his own, his eyes widened a little when he felt his heart beat a little faster at the contact, and god he couldn’t stand it.

Eventually you dragged him to the kitchen where only two people had occupied, you dropped his hand behind you to embrace the girl sitting on top of the kitchen island, Spencer recognised her, you and Gianna had been friends since the first day of high school, and she was the only one of your friends Spencer could stand.

“Oh hi Spencer!” She smiled after breaking from your hug, she took a swig of her cup before taking a chance to scan over his outfit “not to be mean or anything, but did you get invit-” although she asked innocently you slapped her in the arm before she could continue.

“I have a love story to witness” smiling you nudge Spencer in the shoulder a little only earning his cheeks to turn pink as he looked down at his shoes a little longer “Sadie Keller has a big fat crush on him and so does he” you laugh making your way over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, Spencer only nervously laughed at your words.

“Sadie Keller?” Gianna questions tilting her head a little earning a shy nod from Spencer “oh! are you her tutor?” She points at Spencer grinning a little.

“Um..” he mumbled turning to face you “yeah”

“God, she doesn’t stop yapping about you” giggling she takes another sip from her cup, she turns around for a moment scanning through the crowd “Sadie!” She yelled flailing her arm to grab her attention.

Almost frantically he turns to you who looked more than entertained seeing how embarrassed he got, you both look up at the sea of people watching as Sadie’s cherry red hair gets closer and closer pushing through the crowd of teenagers.

Spencer jumps a little at the grasp of your hand again, smiling up at him for a second giving his cold hand a squeeze “good luck Spence” you nod before you beckon Gianna from the kitchen island to leave spencer to fend for himself.

Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk to the direction of the pool arm in arm with Gianna, before snapping to the pretty girl in front of him.

Your heart tightens just a little as you leave him there, furrowing eyebrows as you notice the feeling, the same feeling you had in seventh grade when he got partnered up with Ava Milligan instead of you.

The sounds of the thumping music fades out at you both walk to the pool outside taking a seat on the edge, it was typical for you and Gianna to sit at the pool together at parties, she was the only person that agreed the party scene wasn’t her favourite, you both were homebodies, but high school hustle made not attending parties sound like social suicide.

Giggling as you slipped your boots and socks off to dip your feet in the cool pool you both sit for a little leaning on each other in a comfortable silence in each others company.

You can’t help but glance through the glass doors into the kitchen, and feel the way your heart thumps at the view of Spencer and Sadie sitting on the kitchen island giggling at god knows what.

What could they possibly be laughing about? what could she have possibly said to make him laugh?

“Okay spill” Gianna mutters, snapping you from your Spencer induced trance, you only shoot her a confused look back “You show up at a party with the boy you’ve been in love with for like forever, I know something’s going on in that pretty little head” she chuckles nudging you a little, causing you to laugh in response.

“I’m not in love with him” you mumble back turning your attention to your feet swaying in the cool water, she raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“Okay, you keep thinking that” she smiles slinging her arm over your shoulder while your heads lean together gazing at the blue water “I just didn’t think you’d pass him off so easily… you know he looks at you the same way you look at him, deny it all you want” she whispers, only the faint sounds of the party and the small water splashing occupying your ears.

You knew she was right, god you were in love with Spencer Reid no matter how much you wanted to deny it, that’s why you kept his stupid photo on your bedside table, and why you made cupcakes every thanksgiving, and why him completely shutting you out hurt so much.

Giannas head lifts from your shoulder at the sound of the glass door snapping shut, your eyes raise to meet Spencer standing there smiling a little at you “my queue to leave” Gianna laughs before leaving a kiss on the top of your head before hopping up from the pool edge grabbing her shoes in one hand nodding at Spencer as they brushed past each other, she turns around to mouth a quick ‘good luck’ before returning to the commotion of the party.

“How’d it go” you beam as he made his way down to sit next to you criss cross at the pool.

“Good… I think but she asked me to go ice skating” he mumbles furrowing his brows a little.

“That’s great!” You foreign excitement reaching to grab his shoulder “why do you look so sad about it?”

“God..” he groans reaching to rub his face with his hands “I can’t ice skate”

You giggle a little at his despair “sure you can… we went together in sixth grade remember?”

“I broke my arm that day”

“Oh” you respond, memories flashing through your head “you did didn’t you, you had that cute little cast I used to draw hearts over” giggling at the memory you continue to swish your feet in the water.

There was that feeling again, his heart thumping a little louder than before, it was like anytime you said something about him that he was sure you wouldn’t remember, his heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his palms get warmer.

“I’ll teach you” you smile pulling him from his thoughts “I don’t think Sadie will want to drive you to the ER for another broken arm” you chuckle bringing your lip up to your teeth for a moment.

“Think of it as a practice date”

“A practice date it is” he chuckles smiling back at you, you both meet each others gaze for a moment, you felt a pit grow in the bottom of your stomach as you both sit in silence searching in each others eyes.

You never could admit it, but he was still the boy you fell in love with in fifth grade, and you were still the girl in love with him.

PART THREE

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #lov1ngreid #spencer reid fic recs

[justalittlerandomartist]

Daddy’s Little Monster

•Alastor x teen! daughter! reader

•Platonic, you sickos

•What if… Alastor had a daughter who wanted to be a serial killer too?

You woke up to a red sky. There was a great pain in your head, and your vision was blurry. Once you were fully oriented, you stood up. What was this place? It was like prison, and god, it smelled awful. When you looked up at the pentagram over the sky, it dawned on you. You had died. You were in hell.

It was no surprise why you were in hell. You weren’t the best human. You indulged in a bit of cannibalism, and wanted to be an assassin when you were older. Older. That was something you’ll never be. You were just 13, thirteen and dead. However, how you died was a mystery. You had no memory of how you died.

Could it be you were murdered? No, you hadn’t made many enemies. Maybe fell from somewhere high? No, you were too scared of heights to be anywhere high. Hit by a car? You were always careless crossing the street. Yes, that had to be it.

You looked down at your new form. You had bright blue skin, and dark blue hair(She kinda looks like Ruby Gillman). The hair in your pigtails was now in thick, tentacle, like strands. Your ears were similar to fins, and your limbs were long and stretchy. You were some sort of kraken.

It made sense you were a sea creature though. You had always found yourself fascinated with the sea and the animals that inhabit that. You wished that one day you would be able to dive in there, and never have to return to the surface. You had longed to be down there with the fish and the animals. It felt like home more than the surface ever did.

You felt…at peace in hell, like you wanted to stay here. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges, but it felt like home. But your friends…everyone you left behind. Wouldn’t they miss you? For a moment in time, you wanted to go back. Go back to tell your best friend you loved her one last time. You felt her pain and her tears, and it broke your heart. But you can’t change the past. All you can do is love her and remember.

You decide to walk around your new environment. The buildings look old and run down, and people are fighting. You pass a porn studio, and laugh to yourself. Hell seemed like the kind of place where a giant porn studio would be a normal occurrence. Something catches your eye. A vending machine for drugs. You think about it for a second, but decide not to get anything.

You walk near a place called Cannibal Town, and saw some demons eating a guy. You wanted to join in, the taste of human flesh lingering in your brain, fueling your desires. In front of you was a singing demon, with a resemblance to a porcelain doll. She seemed to improv her whole song, and it amazed you. You loved to sing, and was impressed by her skills. You wanted to tell her, but you would feel bad for interrupting her song.

After exploring hell, you found a street corner to cozy up in. As your first day in hell concluded, you thought to yourself ‘is eternal damnation as bad as I thought?’

______________________________________

•Hi! My names Vicky, I’m a sucker for platonic au’s. My head cannons take a while, but if my requests are open, I might make your idea for a fanfic, so be sure to ask.

•This was fun to write and it is not done. I’m just tired.

•Part 2 •Part 3 •Part 4 •Part 5

#hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #alastor x reader #alastor x reader platonic #Alastor x teen! reader #fanfiction #platonic #platonic x reader

[hedgehog-moss]

I received a couple of asks about aquaponics after yesterday's post so I thought I'd show how I add a new plant to the aquaponics system, to get a better idea of how it works!

Step 1. Grow your plants from seed in seed trays like normal seedlings (pictured here, young green beans)

2. When it has well-developed roots, extract the seedling using a teaspoon or some kind of other thing

3. Rinse it a bit (that's just to avoid having too much dirt end up in the fish tank) (if it's a little it's fine, the filter will catch it)

4. Let your dog carry out a routine inspection

5. Wet a piece of cloth, which is just here to wick fish tank water and ensure the plants' roots are damp all the time. (5bis. Let your fish carry out a routine inspection)

6. Place the seedlings on the cloth and the cloth sandwiched in the grow medium that'll go in the tower. It's a piece of foam and it's here so the plants' roots can hold on to it and not fall down as they grow vertically (you can see old dried roots from ghost beans still holding on to the foam)

7. Insert the foam into the tower like a little train of plants

8. Hang the tower next to its friends

You can also grow seeds directly in little bits of growing medium, so then you just pop them in a free spot in a tower when they've sprouted, without having to take down the tower. I do this with plants that have tiny roots that would have trouble holding on to the cloth / foam on their own (here baby onions)

Some plants that are doing really well in the towers right now include pickles and strawberries! I've already pickled some pickles (2 jars) and am hoping for more. I'm not doing anything special with the strawberries because I just gobble them as soon as I can.

#crawling along

[ddejavvu]

i was using Spotify and I realized how u could see what ur friends are listening to atm on there and it would be so fun to have hotch discover this, and be surprised that the reader is listening to songs like “or nah” or j any explicit songs like that and is into it😋 could lead into something more like playing that song while they’re doing it later on

OKAY THANK YOU LOVE UR WRITING!!!

i love you! i just left this vague and open to whatever song you want to insert!

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Being Spotify friends with Aaron Hotchner only came about because of Penelope's insistence on team bonding. And because she wanted to send everyone the personalized playlists she'd made for them, and sharing became much easier that way.

All it's yielded for you is the knowledge that, very infrequently, Hotch remembers he has a music app on his phone, and that he plays 2-3 Beatles songs before he inevitably gets called to another task and has to shut off the music.

Aaron is even less frequently informed of your tastes in music than you are of his, because the few times that he's used the app, he forgets to check what the other members of the team are listening to. Not that he really cares; Spencer's listening to classical and Derek has too-loud EDM playing in his headphones that Savannah teases him for. Rossi prefers records to his phone, and JJ plays mainly kids' songs for her boys. Emily is always listening to some mid-2000's rock song, but you, you he hasn't gotten a read on. You're all over the place, switching from singer to singer, genre to genre, language to language. All in all, his team's music taste doesn't affect him, but Penelope is far more eager to snoop on you all than he is.

"Ooh, nasty girl," She gushes, head bent to look at her phone as she waits in Aaron's office. He'd instructed her to let him have five minutes to finish a report before she briefed him on a new case's details, but she's proving very distracting. With a glance up at her, half-scathing, half-incredulous, he asks, 'What?'

"Oh! Y/N's Spotify," She holds out her phone as explanation, showcasing your profile with unfamiliar album art displayed over it. It's black and red, but Aaron doesn't recognize the song or the artist.

He raises an eyebrow at Penelope, and she huffily gives into his demand.

"It's a song about sex," She informs him, "Like- feral, sweaty, hungry, clawing-at-the-sheets, scratching-up-his-back, mouth-open-so-he-"

"Alright! Enough," Hotch snaps, glaring disapprovingly at her rather vulgar language, "I think I get the picture, Garcia."

"Sorry, sir." She looks only mildly sheepish, talking more to herself than she is to him as she muses, "Didn't know she was into that kind of thing."

Aaron doesn't think about the title of the song again until well after Penelope's gone, and he's taking his lunch alone in his office. He's more a fan of songs that, if they are about sex, don't outwardly mention any vulgarity, and he's not sure if he could handle explicit material being spewed at loud volumes directly into his ear. Call it morbid curiosity, call it Disapproving Boss Syndrome, but he fishes near-new headphones out of his desk drawer to find out what you've been listening to while filling out government paperwork all day.

He has the good sense to look it up on youtube without logging in. He doesn't want this attached to him in any way, and he certainly doesn't want eagle-eyed Penelope catching him on Spotify.

The beginning of the song seizes the ear right away, a unique beat that definitely doesn't sound sexually appealing. But when each different instrument filters in and the lyrics begin, he realizes that Penelope's description was not very far off.

It's filthy.

It's twenty kinds of vulgar, words that he's never even heard before being used to refer to genitalia. The only way he figures out their definitions is through context, and he thinks he may have been better off without knowing them. He's floored by the contents of the song; he knows sexual songs exist, even at this level of vulgarity, but he'd have never expected you to indulge in them. Certainly not in the workplace.

The song finishes out at three minutes and nine seconds, and Hotch feels a slight heat to his face as he unplugs his headphones and closes the tab. No one had caught him, but he feels mortified anyways, and decides he no longer has an appetite.

He puts the lid back onto the container of leftover pasta that he'd brought from home, keeping his head down as he treks to the kitchenette to refrigerate it.

Of course, his luck fails him as he nearly bumps into you, rounding the corner to the small, closed-off kitchen and finding you in front of the microwave in the doorway.

"Oh! Sorry, Hotch." You laugh, stepping out of his way to let him through. He notices an earbud in your ear and pushes away the knowledge of what song you're probably listening to, heading for the fridge instead.

"It's fine." He grumbles, electing to stay silent for the rest of your impromptu meeting if he can manage. He feels slightly guilty for being cold towards you, because it was his own curiosity that led to his embarrassment, but he can't look you in the eyes right now.

You see fit to fill the awkward silence with the tapping of your nails on the counter, and with a jolt of recognition, and something else far more intense below the belt, he realizes that you're tapping out the beat of the song.

He ignores your sharp gasp as he slams the refrigerator door perhaps a tad too hard. He doesn't have time to feel bad about startling you, though, not when he so desperately needs to be back in the confines of his office, away from the prying eyes of the team.

His sharp memory comes in handy as he calls upon the name of the song later that night, pretending to himself that he's only doing it because it's been stuck in his head. Not because every time he thinks of it, or rather, of you listening to it, his pants tighten slightly. He chooses youtube first, but something drags his thumb towards the spotify button instead, and he swallows the saliva that's suddenly pooled in his mouth when his suspicions are confirmed: you're listening to it, too.

At eleven-thirty at night, probably beneath the covers on your bed just like Aaron is, you're listening to a song about sex, and as he sinks a hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, he knows without a doubt that you're doing the same.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[villain-crown]

cheat | @jegulus-microfic | words: 520

critical care, part 1 | (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

“Potter, I’ve got shit news for you.”

James snorted, finishing the last few letters of a name on the large dry erase board that announced the day shift nurses’ assignments on the medical-surgical intensive care unit. Their ward’s nickname, coined by its wealthy donor, was written at the top in half-erased red letters: Go Gryffindor! “No thanks, Marlene, I’ve got enough shit news already.”

“Peter’s cheating on us. He’s been floated to take patients in the recovery room. They took on three extra cases this morning.”

Jerking his head around, he stared at her.

No.

Peter could not do this to him. James had twenty-two sick as shit patients tripping over themselves to dive into body bags and just enough nurses to stop them from doing so. The acuity of their unit was through the roof. He would not be tested today.

“Pete wouldn't do that.” James shoved his hand into his scrubs to fish his phone out. On the home screen was the preview of an apologetic text from ✨🐀Wormtail🐀✨, reporting his marching orders to the post-anesthesia care unit. “Wow. I thought he loved me. What am I supposed to do? We’re about to start the bloody shift!”

“Well don’t worry boss, because I have slightly less shit news. They’ve sent us a nurse to replace him.” She paused. “From Slytherin.”

“I thought you said less shit news,” James grumbled, using the side of his hand to rub Peter’s name from the board. Slytherin, with its name derived from the benefactor who had funded its building, was the cardiovascular intensive care unit two floors below them. Their nurses were notoriously nightmares to get along with. “The last time they floated someone from there to here it was Snape, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Marlene snapped her fingers. “Didn’t Sirius almost trick him into drinking nitroglycerin? It’s a good thing you stopped him. He could have actually died.”

“Yeah. Anyway, who are they sending us?”

Marlene consulted her phone. “It’s going to be… Oh! Regulus Black!”

“Black?” James repeated distractedly, writing it down.

“It’s Sirius’s little brother. Have you met him?”

“No.” James capped his marker and stepped back. “Have you?”

“Once.” She paused, then qualified that. “Sort of. I got to watch Sirius threaten one of the doctors for flirting with him. Does that count?”

That got his attention. “What? Why? Sirius has slept with half the staff in this hospital!”

“Yeah, but he’d put Regulus in a monastery if he could. No dating allowed for Baby Black.” Marlene handed over the charge nurse phone. “It’s too bad. Dorcas says Regulus is… sweet.”

James smirked. “Dorcas says, huh? I guess Pete’s not the only one cheating on us Gryffindors by consorting with the enemy units.”

“Fuck off, Potter. And I’ll give you a bit of free advice. When Regulus comes up here, you’d best try very hard not to stare. Sirius hates when people do that.”

James’s expression turned serious. “I won’t. Is there something physically… did something happen to him?”

Oddly, Marlene just smirked. “No, nothing like that. But if you know what’s good for you, don’t let Sirius catch you looking.”

#regulus black #james potter #jegulus #protective sirius black #marauders nurse!au #sirius and regulus #sirius black #starchaser #james loves regulus #jegulus microfic

[kiwioala]

documents bagi found in the fed lab!

I feel so sick from seeing all these bodies... First our colleagues and now this?? I need to take some time boss, I'll be back later. Maybe...

2 pictures, both from etoiles fight:

diagram regarding mimicubes and mimic octopus:

The bouncing block of slime is capable of copying the equipment of its enemies, the different things they can copy are: weapons (not only applying on hit effects but also enchantments), shields (being able to block projectile weapons like bows and crossbows), and totems to prevent their own death. Their goo is also known to be able to be used to copy a piece of equipment to the last detail regardless of what material or enchantments it has. It's ability seems to be an evolved version of that of a mimic octopus, the mimic octopus would copy the behavior and looks of other animals for both hunting and self defense. But it seems the mimic cube can copy other materials to the very last details, including pieces of equipment.

diagram regarding lobsters:

These little creatures have incredible abilities, including but not limited to being able to smell and taste the water with their "nose" to hunt their prey, their claws are also a unique barb that allows them to hunt for fish.

IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT WE ESCALATE THIS MATTER TO UPPER MANAGEMENT -> They won't stop growing and won't stop molting throughout with their life, it is considered that they could live forever, if it wasn't bc of the energy needed to molt that they eventually (at 100 years,) won't have

They also can come in different colors, depending on amount and distribution of pigments, being able to be other colors, including: orange, blue, yellow, white, black, and some with special names, like the split halloween colored (black and red) red-blue split colored and cotton candy (pinkish white)

diagram regarding cosmaws:

A once believed extinct species, these flying creatures will attack any player that hits it, biting back with its protocesis, it also uses it to hunt its main pray, the cosmic cod, which can be used to tame them.

While they will not protect their owner in a fight, they serve a different purpose to exploration, whenever their owner is about to fall to the void, the cosmaw will run for it and try to catch it so it doesn't fall into said void.

"Cosmic Cod are fish that can be found in the void between end islands. [...] They float through the ether of The End in decently-sized schools. If one fish in the school is attacked; the entire school of fish will attempt to teleport away as soon as possible. [...] Cosmic Cod can also be caught in an empty bucket." -Animal Dictionary

diagram regarding code status and behavior:

book found in drawer:

more code writing:

010 010 00 0100 0101 01001100 1010 00 00 which translates to "HELP"

lab reports:

[REPORT] Given the recent events at the laboratory, including the intrusion, code breaches, injuries, fatalities among our workers, and the peculiar attack by unfamiliar individuals, we have made the decision to relocate. The place isn't the secured area it used to be, we have reasons to think that several factions with different goals have found its location, therefore we need to find a new place to pursue our researches We have to protect our informations and hide our goals, we cannot let anyone see our research. All the content of our research is now way less valuable since it has been seen and might also have been copied. The next laboratory needs to have a way more secured system, cameras, and lockdown system.

[REPORT] All entities have been transported or terminated, the documents should follow.

[REPORT] It seems like the one eyed creature has been correctly relocated.

misc. clipboards:

CLIPBOARD 1: 1: Heyy, are u having a good day?? 2: No. 1: Oh. sorry about that, what's going on?? 2: Work. 1: O.o

CLIPBOARD 2: • Terminate the subject.

CLIPBOARD 3: • Check for vitals • Check for updates • Check for infection • Check for development

CLIPBOARD 4: • No report has been conclusive yet.

CLIPBOARD 5: • Reports still have to be finalized. • Night shift has to be adjusted as the code changed it's rhythm yet again.

CLIPBOARD 6: • Has been calm over the last fourteen hours. • The current frequency can't be read, we need to order new equipment.

#qsmp #liveblogging #qsmp lore #lore library #qsmp bagi

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | part 3

Pairing: Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x Sully family

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, bad relationships, teyam is a shy babygurl, soft & crush moments.

Note:Sorry for the late update, I've had a lot of work to do and I'm finally on vacation. I will try to catch up. But thank you so much for all the love you have given to this series. BTW… I'll keep answering requests. I have a lot of them in my inbox, so please be patient.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4,Part 5(final)

3 weeks had passed since the Sully family took you into their home. Your injury had healed, and little by little you had started to help more in the family home. Because the camp was a rather uncomfortable and small place. Neytiri convinced you to live completely in the family hut, in a way she felt responsible for you. After all she was the one who had found you in the jungle. She also felt that you needed her, so she promised herself to take care of you. Jake didn't mind this, he thought it was adorable… to see neytiri so worried about a girl totally different from them. But he supported his mate's decision, you were a girl who had lost her entire clan. They should help you and make you feel like part of the new clan. Or so they were trying.

The Omaticaya had never interacted with the Na'vi of the cold mountains. They had heard stories, and only a few had seen a few. Your clan was known to be very polite, a bit of a hermit and not very sociable. They were not aggressive, but they did not like to mix with other clans. Besides the physical and social differences. Your clan was different in their way of living. In the last few weeks you could see how everyone did their chores, how the clan lived together. Of course, all this from the door of the hut. You were still a little afraid to go out, you had walked around the hut. But no more than that. You were curious, how you were going to help them. You had to learn to do something. You hadn't noticed, but Kiri had already come closer to you. Sitting down next to you. "Hey…what are you looking at? Are you looking at tarsem?" kiri teased a little. This comment caught the attention of neteyam, who was getting his things ready to go fishing. "Oh no" you laugh nervously, yes you had noticed this guy's presence, but that wasn't what you were looking at.

Neteyam clears his throat, coming over to where you two were sitting. "What are you two talking about?" the boy asks, playing dumb. "mmm nothing…about Y/N. She's spying tarsem, that's bad" kiri continues teasing. "Stop!!!" you push her a little. As your eyes meet neteyam's, he had a forced smile on his face. The last few weeks, ever since you had arrived at the hut. Neteyam has been silently close to you and your baby. Watching you from afar, or sitting closer to you at meal times. Helping you take care of him, or just holding him while you did other things. Making sure everything was okay, of course…all with a low profile. Everyone thought neteyam was being nice and wanted you to feel at home. So did the other members of the family, but you… you knew this was not the case. Neteyam was forgetting that your gift as a seer allowed you to feel and see things that others did not. You didn't know exactly what that feeling was that neteyam radiated when he was around you. But you knew it wasn't something normal…it was something very intense.

"Tarsem is a guy…quite interesting" neteyam speaks with a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice. Playing with your baby, which was in your lap. Kiri laughs again, nudging his brother on the shoulder. "He's interesting…and he's very cute" kiri looks at you, watching you roll your eyes back. "I'm not looking at him…I'm looking at that" you point to the group of women who were separating some fruit. Others were making baskets. "Ahh they're just picking fruit" speaks neteyam.

"They didn't do that in my clan…in the cold there are no fruit trees" you say, while still looking at the group of women. Kiri and neteyam stand silently looking at each other. "No fruit? So what did you eat?" asks Kiri. "Meat…and some berries and herbs" you smile awkwardly. You watch the look on kiri's face turn to one of sadness. "It must be very sad," says Kiri. You laugh and settle closer to neteyam. "It's no big deal… my clan was located in the area where there are many storms. So these foods are perfect for survival" you try to explain to them, but you could still see the anguish in their eyes. If it could be a bit depressing, you could occasionally enjoy some fruits that survived in the cold snow. But you were used to it. "But… I'm glad to be here, I've eaten a lot of fruits and I love them" you smile shyly. Noticing how neteyam was literally glued to your side. Your arm was bumping against his. After a short silence, neteyam had an idea.

"Why don't you come with me to get some fruits?" asks neteyam, placing his hand on your thigh. You bristle under his touch, he doesn't know what he's doing to you. Of course, he couldn't feel what you could, it was all too intense. "I'd like to…but" you lower your gaze, watching as your baby played with one of your braids. Braids that Neytiri had made for you the night before. Kiri steps up, and takes the baby in her arms. "I'll take care of him…it will be good for you to go for a walk" says Kiri. You think about it for a moment, but agree. Herwì had just turned 2 months old, so he was a little easier to take care the baby. You stare at Kiri for a moment, you swear you can hear a voice saying "he'll be fine". You panic a little, they turn your head. "Everything okay?" kiri asks, you try to laugh. "Yeah, yeah….esta fine, if anything happens you look me for me" you agree. Watching as neteyam gets up from the floor, going to get some baskets.

"So what are we waiting for….let's go" neteyam says, placing his hand on your back guiding you. You give a last to kiri and then walk out of the hut. The further you walked, the more surprised you became. Not only by the differences between the na'vi. But by the amount of humans walking normally, it made you a little nervous. You knew that everyone got along well, and that these humans were not dangerous, even your instinct told you that you shouldn't be afraid. But still… you felt fear. "How about we go to my ikran, what do you think?" neteyam asks you, trying to distract you. "Really?" you sound excited, ever since you had seen the ikran you wanted to ride them. A couple more minutes and you are ahead of the ikran. You grab the creature's head. Neteyam is silent, watching his ikran go calm under your touch.

"You are precious" you whisper, closing your eyes. Neteyam's ikran becomes even quieter, just as you touch it. You could feel its heartbeat, you look up, staring into the animal's eyes. "You haven't named it, why?" you look at neteyam, who had already walked beside you. "Ahh I don't know… I didn't think he wanted a name" says neteyam laughing a little. Holding up the baskets. "Well yes…you should" you speak. "I should" there is a small pause between the two of you. "Ok…all set" neteyam climbs into his ikran, inviting you. You take his hand, and he helps you get comfortable. "Hold me tight" neteyam says, as you wrap your arms around his waist. Holding you tightly, so that the ikran begins to fly.

The view was so beautiful. The mountains, the wildlife. The clouds that adorned the tops of the trees. Neteyam was silent, noticing how you were relaxing. Just as you were gaining altitude, in the distance you could see what had once been your home, Neteyam's eyes opened wide. You could see the large area that had been burned. As smoke billowed from the burned trees and floated up to the heights. Neteyam can feel your grip getting tighter. He moves one of his hands, to touch yours. Which was now on his chest, giving it a squeeze. "That was my home" you speak, laying your head on his back. Neteyam holds your hand tighter. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry" neteyam feels you settle more on his back hugging him, he knew you were looking for some comfort. Neteyam has never seen first-hand what the brutal loss of his clan was like. Neytiri and Jake only talked superficially about it. Sure, he had seen destruction. But the destruction of this magnitude never. And that you had experienced it firsthand, it broke his heart. He felt bad…knowing that his mother had to suffer as much as you did. Or worse.

Neteyam diverts his ikran a bit, to take another route, and so get away from the area. After flying for a while, you both land on a branch. You cautiously climb down from the beast, while Neteyam begins to place several baskets on his shoulder. "I told you that I'm not very good at climbing?" you say, looking down at the ground. "No? Why?" neteyam comes to your side, looking at your worried face. "Well… I didn't have the need to climb trees. I was just…walking" you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, seeing the height of the tree to the ground. Neteyam holds you by the arm. "Oh I understand…mmm climb on my back" says neteyam, bending down to be more below your height. You move closer, hugging his neck. Feeling neteyam's hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you up onto his back in one swift movement. "Hold on tight," neteyam says.

"You're not going to let go…are you?" neteyam can feel how nervous you are, you're shaking a little. And your tail was thumping his hands. "No…but if you want me to release you to the ground" neteyam jokes with you loosening his grip a little. You scream and hug him tighter. "Just kidding… calm down" neteyam starts to climb down the tree carefully, it wasn't very tall. So you reached the ground quickly. Carefully releasing you on the ground, making sure you were okay.

"Well…that wasn't so bad" you speak, adjusting several pieces of your top. You were still getting used to how revealing these clothes felt. Neteyam comes over, and adjusts a piece. Carefully, checking to make sure it was in the right place. You stand still, noticing how carefully he touched you and cared for you. So different…so kind. Making your heart clench. "If we follow this path…there are some trees that have the best fruits" neteyam speaks, he was so close to you. You could see all his expressions, and how his little ears moved as he tried to find his way through the jungle. Taking your hand, to start walking. You don't complain, you let him guide you. After walking for a while, about 6 minutes. You get to where the trees were. They were all full of yellow and red fruits.

"It's harvest time…I know you're going to love them," says neteyam, watching you walk away. To get closer and investigate the fruits further. They were so strange to you, Neytiri was bringing another type of fruit to eat..this one was bigger and brighter. "These days are supposed to start picking this fruit…look" neteyam plucks a fruit from the tree, and offers it to you. He gestures with his mouth for you to bite into the fruit. You laugh a little, it looked funny. You take it, and take a bite. Enjoying the new texture, taste and smell you were experiencing. Your ears perk up, and your tail starts wagging fast. "You like it, don't you? It tastes wonderful" neteyam asks, munching on a fruit. "This…is delicious" you speak with your mouth full. Neteyam laughs, he thought it was adorable to see you discovering something new for the first time. You both sit on the ground, laying your back on a log. Eating more fruit, while Neteyam told you all about the fruit. He told you that this was not the only fruit there was, that there were hundreds of them and how they should be harvested and cared from them. You listened to him very attentively, surprised that there was such a variety of fruit.

After a while, the two of you started talking about anything and everything. Until the subject of your baby came up. Neteyam was curious. Since you didn't talk about your mate, usually couples talked about their mates. Even if they had died, they still remembered their memory. You had barely mentioned it once. Now you were sitting, eating another piece of fruit. Neteyam cleared his throat and spoke. "Y/N…I have a question?" you could tell the nervousness in his tone of voice. You respond with a "Hmm?" but continue eating your fruit. "I wanted to ask you something about …. the father of your baby" speaks neteyam. He notices how you have stopped eating, and you put the fruit in your lap. You look up, to see neteyam. "I've noticed that you hardly talk about him, and…" you interrupt neteyam.

"seyey was one of the strongest hunters in the whole clan, at such a young age he had a lot of experience. He had earned the respect of the entire clan. Including my father…the clan chief" you pause. So you were the clan chief's daughter, now it all made sense. "I guess…he wanted you to be with him," says neteyam. You nod your head in agreement. "He thought seyey was the perfect mate. Our clan thinks about preserving our lineage, it must be pure. So as soon as we came of age, we united before eywa" you spoke with your eyes on the ground. Neteyam didn't want to say anything, he could see how uncomfortable this topic made you. "The only thing that came out enjoyable, was my son herwì… we were unhappy together". "I'm sorry for everything…" neteyam put his hand on your back. "My father only wanted the clan lineage to stay intact…no matter what I really wanted. He wasn't a bad father, but he didn't listen to me" you speak.

"And what did you want to do?" asks Neteyam, trying to cheer you up a bit. You blush a little, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to be a slinth rider" you speak, neteyam is a little shocked. The slinth were dangerous creatures. "Those creatures are not from the jungle?… they are also very dangerous" neteyam notices how you laugh. "Yes…but the ones found in the cold mountains are another type of slinth…they are just like me" you laugh, taking a bite of fruit. "You can still be a rider…if that's what you want" speaks neteyam. You let out a sigh. "Well…what's done is done. There's nothing I can do about it. Besides…I think I know why I'm here" you tap neteyam on the shoulder.

"Really? And what's that reason?" neteyam moves closer to you. Wiggling playfully. "mmm I can't tell you" you change your face, laughing a little. "Come on…tell me!" speaks neteyam in a soft but at the same time playful tone. The atmosphere had become more peaceful, you both started to laugh. You knew what the reason was, you had a feeling that the reason why he had come to this clan. It was because of neteyam…because of the dream you had of him. Now you just had to find out what was the reason for your encounter with him. You two were so wrapped up in your own world that you didn't hear someone approaching. Neteyam was the first to notice the noises, there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the harvest area yet. Rising to stand in front of you, you carefully stand up.

Neteyam pulls out his knife, ready to strike at anything. But he immediately relaxed when he heard his brother's voice. What the hell is lo'ak doing here, Neteyam thinks. "Don't worry…it's lo'ak" neteyam lowers his weapon, watching as the voice continues to get closer. Out of the bushes comes lo'ak who was talking carelessly next to spider. You let out a low cry, and move quickly behind neteyam. Hugging his arm. "What's that 'thing' doing here?" you sound scared, you had seen the humans. But from far away. You had never seen one so close. "This 'thing' is spider…it's good" lo'ak says trying to calm you down. "Yeah…I don't bite" says spider, laughing a little. Everyone knew what you had been through, so this was a very normal reaction. "I see you" spider gestures with his hands, and you copy his greeting. Looking at neteyam, but not taking off from him. "I promise I won't hurt you…I'm good" spider felt somewhat responsible, even though he hadn't done anything to you.

Lo'ak had talked about you, the last few days. And he was fascinated to meet you. An albino na'vi and from the cold mountains. That sounded wonderful. "You've met norm?…you'd blow his head off" spider jokes a little. But your face turns to horror again. "no…I don't want to blow anyone up" you yell a little, whining. The three boys laugh out loud. "Babe..no. He says norm would be impressed with you. He just said a human quote" neteyam explains to you. "I'm sorry" spider apologizes. He doesn't want to scare you. "And you were doing here?" neteyam asks. Lo'ak points to the fruit in his hand. "Same as you guys…but without the romantic atmosphere" lo'ak scoffs. Neteyam laughs uncomfortably. "Why don't we go back to camp?" neteyam looks at you, and can see that she was still frightened by spider's presence. "Yes…I want to go back" you squeeze neteyam's arm tighter. You two begin your walk back to neteyam's ikran. Hearing the giggles of the boys. "Ignore them…yes?" neteyam takes your hand. You take another look and follow neteyam. "She's…she's very impressive" says spider. "I know…I've never seen anyone like that" says lo'ak.

Near the cold mountains…

"Sir…we've looked everywhere and nothing" says one of the warriors. The man clears his throat, holding back tears from his eyes. He could not look weak in front of his warriors. "Make a scan in the southern area, closer to the village" says the man. The warriors quickly look at each other with concern. "But sir… the humans may be nearby and" the man slaps the ground. "I gave an order!!!" the man shouts, all the young warriors get up and leave the cave.

"Father…I don't think we're going to find her" says a younger boy. The man strokes the back of his neck, letting a tear come out of his eye. This situation was killing him, he had to find her. "tekxe…we have to find your sister. I have a feeling she's still alive" says your father. Eywa always protects his chosen ones.

Teyam babygurls: symptoms-of-moonlight , tru-blubelle, mashiromochi, ducks118, @butterfly-ibuki, @innercreationflower, @ok-boke, @lovelyygirl8, @sandaltoesocks, @he110hon, @inlovewithpandora, @sussybaka10, @mommyneytiri, @daughterofjakesully, @symptoms-of-moonlight @ilostmyaccounf

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #human reader #female y/n #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam oneshot #human y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #atwow #avatar twow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x na'vi albino #neteyam x albino!fem #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam series #neteyam smut #sully family #neytiri x you #neytiri #neytiri x reader #kiri sully #avatar 2 #neytiri imagine

[starbabyg]

Ok this is just an idea but I love love love ‘Picture Perfect’ and I was thinking part 2 where one of the boys accidentally like finds one of the pictures… like Trevor and him ordered pizza or something and Jack tells him to grab his card out of his wallet and a Polaroid just tumbles out… and all the sudden Trevor can’t stop imagining you and jack. Maybe Jack catches him with the picture and is all cocky about how much of a good girl you are, how perfect you feel and sound… and maybe just maybe Jack invites Trev to watch… no touching because he’s a protective boyfriend but he knows you’ve thought about having someone watch before and he Trusts Trevor….

Picture Perfect Part 2 | Jack Hughes x Reader x Trevor Zegras smut

Ugh nony I loveee this concept!! You’re mind is just ugh! Chef’s kiss!!!

The OG Picture perfect smut is right hereee to refresh ya memory <3.

Warnings; smut obviously, the c word lmfao, the word ‘daddy’ in a sexual context

+++

It was guy’s night at lake cabin, which meant Jack and Trevor, the only two to ever pull through for guy’s night, would be playing video games, watching a game, and attempting to go fishing until they finally give up and order some food cause neither of them know how to cook.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust. 5-0. It’s settled my characters better than yours,” Jack taunted, putting the game controller down and picking up his drink.

“Okay, I’m still on the cover though sooo,” Trevor quipped back with sass.

“Yeah cause I was too busy for a shoot, now go get the pizza loser I gotta go piss.” Jack heard the door bell ring, the only person it could be being the pizza guy.

“In your dreams Hughes, I don’t got cash for the tip lend me a five.”

“Get it out of my wallet I’m about to burst,” Jack shouted as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.

Trevor chuckled shaking his head, picking up Jack’s wallet from the coffee table and opening it up. Trevor rifled through Jack’s wallet, seeing twenties and hundreds, but no small bills.

“Jesus does this guy have any change?” Trevor flipped Jack’s wallet upside down, dumping it out to find at least some coins. Thwip. Along with a bunch of dollar bills something heavier fell out. Jack’s special Polaroids fell out, all faced backside up. Trevor being the nosy person he is flipped them over and picked them up.

Trevor’s eyes widened as he saw the contents of said Polaroids. You spread out on the bed, lewd shots of you in the matching set, bent over and your tits hanging out. “No fucking way,” Trev whispered to himself still perusing through the countless pictures. He was brought out of his thoughts by the door bell ringing once more, this time sounding more impatient by the abruptness. Too enthralled with his new discovery Trevor just grabbed a fifty and handed it to the guy. I’ll just venmo Jack later. He grabbed the pizza and tossed it on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and looking at the pictures once more.

How the fuck did Hughes bag her? Trevor was acquainted with you, knew for sure you were pretty as hell but didn’t know that underneath that seemingly quiet and meek exterior was a girl who would pose for something like this. With your makeup done and your body out of your normal casual clothes, he finally got to see the more private side of you that was reserved for Jack only.

“She’s fucking perfect huh,” Jack smirked from behind the couch. He walked over and plopped himself next to Trevor, who just sat there with shock on his face. His best friend had just caught him looking at his private pictures of his girlfriend. Fuck. “Such a good girl for me. Posed exactly how I told her to. Straight out of a magazine, a masterpiece.” Jack could just go on and on about you.

“Wait— you’re not tripping over me looking at these?” Trevor was surprised at Jack’s nonchalant attitude over the situation. He thought Jack would be more of the possessive type.

“Not really. I mean look at her, why would I want to keep that just to myself. I already have the exclusive rights to fucking her. Now that I’ll forever keep to myself,” Jack smiled, he knew that many men fawned after you. Imagined what your naked body looked like. How you felt.

Trevor now was dragged into the thought of fucking you. How good you would be in bed. How submissive. How you sounded. How it would feel to have his dick wrapped inside you. If you turned him on just from pictures imagine the real thing.

“You wanna know how it is huh,” Jack could see that look on Trev’s face, that look of longing. It’s like Pandora’s box was open, and that box, was well, your box. LMFAOOO I HAD TO.

Now Trevor didn’t want to cross any lines. After all Jack was like his best friend. He wouldn’t risk his friendship over anything in the world. Jack saw Trevor’s facial expression change, now looking more panicked.

“Come to my house next weekend. Now I’m not gonna let you fuck her. But you can at least watch her get fucked. The closest thing you’ll ever get to that perfection of a pussy. When I say she’s a goddess I mean it in every aspect.”

No way was Jack just offering to let me watch him fuck his girlfriend. No way in hell. “A-are you sure man? I just got caught up in the pictures I don’t need to do all that–”

“Zegras, it’s not that big of a deal it’s not like you’re fucking her behind my back– unless you are then I’m gonna beat your ass. Besides y/n has a lil voyeurism kink, she likes being watched sometimes. I’ll be fucking her against our apartment window or on the balcony. At least I actually know you.”

“Jesus y/n’s more of a freak than I pegged her for.”

“No, she really is. The things this girl introduced me to. The things she does to me. Literally has me wrapped around her finger.” Just from this conversation both the boys were getting turned on, Jack reminiscing in past moments and Trevor just imagining how good it could be having sex with you.

“Shit I need to get me one of those,” Trev laughed.

“Yeah, no one will ever compare to y/n, like ever,” Jack cut that quick, knowing that you’re literally the most perfect girl in the whole wide world. No one could ever come close to you in Jack’s eyes. “Just come by my place, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Just as Jack had told him, Trevor went to his house that next weekend. To say Trev was nervous was an understatement. In all honesty he felt like it was all a set up, that in the end Jack would be mad that his best friend would actually want to see his girlfriend getting fucked. But there he stood at Jack’s front door, contemplating on whether or not to ring the doorbell or just altogether leave and forget that any of this ever happened. Before he could even decide between the two, Jack’s door opened.

“What’s good Zegras,” Jack held open the door nonchalantly.

“How’d you know I was here–”

“Saw you on the ring camera duh. Come in though before my neighbors think I’m having a party and try to pull through. They’re just a little too comfortable.”

Trevor just laughed in agreement, still anxious about the whole situation. He sat himself on the couch, watching Jack as he pulled two drinks out of the fridge.

“Y/n’s on her way back from getting her nails done. We can just chill and play some chel til she gets back.”

“You told her that I’m coming over?” Trevor wanted to make sure that you were okay with the whole situation, after all you were the one getting fucked in front of the one man audience.

“Nah, I just told her to wear one of her prettiest sets cause I have a surprise for her.” Jack shrugged as he threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“So you didn’t even tell her! You’re a dick Hughes. What if she gets weirded out and tells someone in the league,” Trevor was thinking about every possible way this could go wrong.

“God Trev, what did I tell you. Y/n isn’t gonna care she likes the taboo shit.”

“If you’re wrong I’m never talking to your ass again. Like ever,” He pointed seriously.

“Whatever, set the game up I’mma make us some mozzarella sticks,” Jack threw a piece of popcorn at Trevor, who was watching Jack’s every move.

The two boys were deep into a third round of chel when they heard the front door unlocking. Trevor quickly looked at Jack, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Hi lovey, I’m back,” you sweetly spoke out, not knowing where Jack could be. You locked the door, taking off your shoes and setting your purse down carefully.

“Hey my princess, I’m in the living room. How was your nail appointment,” Jack had his eyes glued to the tv, taking these moments where Trevor was distracted to get in some goals.

“It was good, I got them the color you chose for me. It’s prettier than I thought it’d be. With the red toes just how you like.”

“Ouuu you gotta let me see. I bet they look amazing on you.” Jack smiled, just imagining how it looked. Trevor looked to Jack and into the void where he heard your voice coming from. It was a bit awkward to hear such a casual yet intimate one on one conversation between the two of you. It seemed to him like eavesdropping.

“Mkay love, be right there. I’m just putting my stuff away. But what was that surprise you were talking about? It was so hot in the salon and I couldn’t even take off my jacket cause of what I got on underneath.”

“Come over here and you’ll see it, I got it right here for you,” Jack smirked as he patted Trev on the back, who looked like he was about to pass out.

You entered the kitchen area, back turned towards the boys as you perused through the fridge for a drink. Trevor blinked as he saw you, even more nervous than he thought he would be.

You opened a soda, throwing away the cap before going into the living room section to fully see Jack on the couch, with Trevor in tow. “Oh hey Trevor, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he mustered out, looking at you in your little yoga outfit. With one of those tight fitting cropped lululemon define jackets with the matching form fitting yoga pants. Your hair slicked back in a high ponytail.

“You know how I had that guys night with Trev?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded as you sipped your soda.

“Well he had to get money to tip the pizza guy out of my wallet and he came across your polaroids,” Jack casually explained. Trevor took a hard gulp as he gauged your reaction.

“The ones of me in the pink agent provacateur set?” You now knew what was going on, and surely this was quite the surprise on Jack’s part.

“Mhmm.”

You turned towards Trevor, “Did you like how I looked in it?” You thought it was cute that someone who is always so confident was now a muttering mess right in front of you.

“Y-yeah of course. You looked stunning.”

“Good thing I wore the matching one then huh,” slowly you started to unzip your jacket, revealing a look alike set in a light blue hue. You shimmied out of your yoga pants, dropping them to the floor and giving the two boys a full 360°. Swaying your hips, doing cute little poses.

“Fuck,” Trevor said under his breath. The pictures only did so much justice. Now he could see every curve in person. The jiggle of your ass as you turned in a circle, your boobs bouncing in that tight bra you wore.

You got on your knees and crawled over to them on the couch. You made your way to Trevor, leaning up and spreading his legs apart. You started to unbuckle his pants before Jack laid his hand atop yours.

“Woah sweetheart, too eager now. You know I’m too selfish to let anyone else get a piece of you. Trev’s just here to watch and see just how perfect you are.”

Your mouth went into an ‘o’, now knowing the extent of the ‘surprise’ Jack had for you. “Okay daddy, I understand now.” You moved on to Jack, actually getting to pull down his sweats and boxers. His dick sprung out, already hard from the little show you had just put on.

You took Jack’s dick into your hands, licking up and down the base of it before going to the tip. You started off slow, giving his tip kitten licks before fully taking it into your mouth. Trevor just watched, mouth agape as he could only imagine the sensations Jack was feeling. And by the reactions Jack was giving the head must’ve been damn good.

“Fuck princess, show Trev how good you can take my cock in your mouth,” Jack groaned as he threw his head back.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, the vibrations causing Jack’s dick to prematurely twitch. You took his member out of your mouth, letting some drool dribble from your plump lips to trail down his tip. With enough drool as lubricant, you took him back into your mouth and started blowing him at a steady pace. Your cheeks as hollowed as they could, your tongue swirling around as much as it could.

“Fuck, I love when you do that shit with your tongue,” Jack put his hand behind your head and pushed you down even further, causing you to gag. Trevor just got harder and harder, his dick print now showing through his jeans. He gave it a few rubs, the strain being almost too painful. He just had to get off to you. You saw him writhing in his seat.

“Take it out and stroke it. It must be awfully painful to be that horny and not do anything about it,” you smiled, out of breath. With that you went back to sucking off Jack, looking Trevor in his eyes. The eye contact did something to him, his dick starting to throb and his tip turning a shade of pink. Trevor quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled it out, his hand gripping his dick in an effort to release all the pent up pressure he was feeling.

Jack lifted you up, softly tossing you face first into the couch and taking a position behind up. He cupped your pussy and gave your clit a few rubs before spreading you out on his dick.

“Ohhhh my god,” you drawled out with the prettiest moan. Trevor could’ve busted just from that sound alone it was so angelic. Your hands gripped the head rest of the couch, Jack hitting it from behind intensely. All while Trev’s face was just mere inches away.

“Yeah, take it like the good girl you are,” Jack slapped your ass, with it reverberating as a red mark replaced where his hand once was. You let out a squeal, rubbing it a bit to sooth the sting.

Trevor fucked his hand vicariously, imagining it was you in its place instead. It might’ve sounded sick but he had now developed a deep lust crush on you. How could he not seeing how much of a good girl you were?

Jack flipped you over, putting you on your back and drilling into you. Your knees touching your chest and your legs slung over his shoulders. With this position Trevor got the perfect few of Jack going in and out of you. Your punani looked perfect, looking so tightly wrapped around Jack’s dick, your lips and folds moving along with him as he pushed himself in further and further. It took everything Trevor had inside of him to have enough discipline to not start playing with your clit right then and there. The way it just sat there glistening. But it was as if Jack could read his dirty thoughts in his dirty mind, Jack’s hand going to the base of your navel and then trailing down to toy with you clit.

“Mhmm daddy just like thatttt,” you moaned out breathlessly, all that stimulation starting to run through the rest of your body. Your legs started to twitch, you were going to cum soon at the rate Jack was fucking you.

“Get on top, show Trevor how you ride this dick,” Jack heaved, pulling you up and into a deep kiss. He dropped himself right on the couch, waiting for you to get on top.

“Of course daddy,” you giggled as you placed one knee on each side of him. For obvious reasons you knew you had to show out for Trevor and give your best performance. You touted yourself up before slowly sinking yourself into Jack’s dick, which caused him to let out a low gutteral groan. His hands made their way to your ass, gripping the supple flesh.

Gradually you picked up speed, arching your back as you lifted yourself up and grinding yourself back down to the base of his shaft. Trevor’s eyes just followed, up down up down up. You then got on the soles of your feet, giving you more spring with your bounce. Now you had more motion, moving your hips in circles and back and forth. With Jack still inside you you turned a 180°, your ass now facing him.

“Lemme see that ass clap baby,” Jack instructed with a slap of your bum. You steadied your feet on the floor, your hands on your knees as you started to lift your ass up again. You bounced yourself on Jack’s dick, his hands on your waist to help you steady your pace. In this position his dick was hitting just the right spot, bringing you closer to climax each time it would his the back of your walls.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna– I’m gonna cum,” you panted, turning around to look at him. It was getting difficult to keep up the pace, your stamina draining as your vision became starry.

“Uhnt uh, not until Trevor and I both finish, okay?” Jack gave your ass a squeeze. Those words turned you on, giving you an extra boost that you most definitely needed.

“Oh-okay,” you continued to ride him, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Trevor himself was close to finishing, the real life porn in front of him pushing him to the edge.

“Fuck I’m close,” Trevor finally groaned out, bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was the one fucking you from behind. It was a sick and twisted thing for him to fantasize but what else was he supposed to do seeing you ride Jack so immaculately? He sputtered out curse words a few moments later, busting out into his hand with a few stray cum drops landing on your ass.

Jack saw this, getting just a tad bit possessive over the seemingly nothing, now bucking his hips up and fucking you as you tried to steady yourself. He glanced over at Trevor for a second, seeing the green in his eyes. Jack gave him a smirk as to say ‘yup, this is mine and mine only. You only get the privilege to watch and to never touch.’

“Oh my fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you squealed as your legs started to go limp. Jack held you, still pumping in and out of you.

“There you go princess, ride it out for me,” he held you close to his body, his face in the crook of your neck leaving wet kisses. “Get on your knees I’m gonna finish on your face.”

You obeyed his command, hazily turning around and getting down on your knees. You looked up at him with a smile, your tongue sticking out like a puppy dog. Jack groaned, pumping his dick until he came, cum dripping out and onto your face and tongue. You giggled before licking up the drops that fell onto your lips. Jack bent down a left a kiss on your forehead.

“Did I do good daddy?” You asked, still on your knees.

“You did amazing and more my love, now go get dressed we’re gonna go out to eat,” Jack praised you. You nodded and went to your shared room, now going to change and maybe lay down for a few, so fucked out you could barely walk. Trevor just sat there, heaving and replaying this whole scenario in his head. All of this really happened, he had just watched his best friend fuck his girlfriend.

Jack turned over to Trevor, pulling up his sweats, “See, didn’t I tell you she was the perfect girl?”

#jack hughes #jack hughes smut #trevor zegras #trevor zegras smut #starbabyg masterlist #starbabyganon #nhl smut #nhl boys #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #starbabyg #trevor Zegras imagine #trevor Zegras one shot #trevor zegras fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes dirty #trevor Zegras dirty #hughes brothers #hockey smut #smut

[moonknixght]

Awkward conversations and.. Fishes? (Steven Grant x GN!Reader)

Summary: Curiosity to learn more about a gorgeous store clerk of a pet shop leads Steven to buying his first pet ever. Warnings: Fluff ?? and just embarrassingly long silences Word count: 1.1k A/N: Okay please imagine that Gus wasn't Steven's pet already 🙏 Might make a part 2 if I get ideas. Also first post woohoo!! Made this account solely so I could make my ideas a reality. I'm a little rusty at writing as of right now, so bare with me </3 Requests are open for stuff!! (please talk to me)

"And this little guy here, He's a feisty one, but he means no harm." Lifting up a perched budgie on your finger, who seemed to have distrustful look on it's face, You smile widely at the latest client that had stumbled upon your small shop. You've always been a passionate soul when it came to animals; from the age 8 when you first wanted to be a veterinarian, which you quickly backed out from after slight consideration as you realized that you would have to constantly put down animals and see them in absolute pain. The next choice was arts, which you did took a degree in, before landing on the final prospect of being a caretaker to injured animals. From there, you found yourself reverting back into your obsession, eventually starting a small shelter/pet-shop where you took in abandoned and wounded animals, healed them and put them back to find new owners. It would be a lie if you said that you didn't miss any of the animals that were taken by other people, but it was also a joy to see them go to homes where they would be given full attention and loved. Therefore, you found yourself rambling about all your beloved pets to whoever stepped into your little abode with any interest— which is what was happening right now. A guy, with almost perfect curly black hair and tan-kissed skin had walked in and began to mindlessly wander, often catching your eyes while he did so. You eventually walked up to him and offered your help, to which he seemed ever so grateful for, even though it was odd that he didn't know what animal he wanted to adopt. This man was Steven Grant. and only if you knew the panic the poor guy was going through. With Jake relentlessly pushing Steven to interact with the employee he's been eyeing through the glass doors of the pet-shop, Steven found himself awkwardly cruising through the different animals, who looked up at him with expectant eyes. Clearly, He needed a plan before walking into the shop, especially when you approached him with a confused look on your face. "Uh.. I-I'm not particularly fond of birds, love." Steven gave you a weak smile, he seemed like he was scared of possibly disappointing you. "Maybe the fishes?" 'Or the cats.' Jake added from somewhere in the headspace, obviously enjoying the shit-show. "Ah." You say allowing the bird back onto the bird perch, your eyes shifting towards a small section of the shop where you tucked away a rectangular aquarium with exactly one fish inhabiting it. "Well, The options are very limited with fishes." Steven was digging himself a deeper hole each time he enquired about the animals like he was actually going to get one— but don't get him wrong, he was genuinely finding your rambles about every creature there interesting. So interesting in fact, that he couldn't possibly leave without getting something. So, the most laziest pet to have would be a fish, according to him at least. You eventually lead him to the front of the tank, where you lightly bend (which Steven also mimicked) to meet eye-to-eye with a goldfish. But this wasn't any goldfish, it was a goldfish with exactly one fin. "He's your only luck if you're looking for fishes." "Does.. Does he have a name?" Steven asked, trying to keep the conversation going. How exactly was he going to take care of a goldfish anyways? Especially a goldfish that only had one fin? What if it dies? It'll ruin his entire day. Maybe his entire week.

 You tilt your head to think about it, before giving a soft shrug in response— which Steven admittedly found quite endearing. "Not really, He just came in like this I guess, Never thought to give him a name." 'A fish, Seriously?' "What about Gus?" Steven asked, turning a deaf ear to Jake's mocking comment. The goldfish paused for a second looking at the two observing it for a moment, before it continued to pace around again. It was almost like the little aquatic creature had approved of the name, but he wasn't planning on sounding like a total nutjob by expressing that out loud. "Hm, It surprisingly fits him." You say after a moment of silence. Though a second later, With a chuckle, You pick up conversation again. "You're pretty good at naming fishes, huh?"

"No! I just.. It came to me, I guess. Lil' fella looks like a Gus." "I agree."

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Steven desperately tried to revive the exchange. "D'you know that Gus means Majestic? It fits 'cause it's quite amazing that he can swim with just a fin." 'Way to make them swoon, Steven. Buen trabajo.' Steven was truly getting sick of the unnecessary commentary from Jake, but he couldn't quite tell the wanker to piss off just yet. You, on the other hand, seemed to be intrigued by this rather sudden splurge of knowledge. Honestly, You didn't mind this at all, actually finding some amusement in how he suddenly geeked out. "Huh, I didn't know that." You said with a pleasant smile. "That's quite interesting now that you put it that way." "Yeah..." Steven's voice was small; the fear that he might have come off as weird subsided with your smile, which he reciprocated almost immediately. "I'll take him then." Your eyes lit up. For some odd reason, you didn't exactly expect him to actually get anything— Let alone a damn fish. Actually, Even Steven didn't know that he would end up being the owner of a fish, it just happened. He's technically already named the fish, it's only right that he takes it.

"Right, A moment." You nod, excusing yourself to go get the equipment needed to pack Gus away and off to settle in his new home. You come back a moment later as Steven stepped by the counter, Gus in a small plastic baggy as you balanced a small tank to put the little guy in as well as some food for the strangers convenience. Handing it off to him carefully, you nodded as you glanced at the only goldfish your store has seen be taken away. Who would've guessed. "I'll be off then, Thanks, love!" "You're welcome, Take care Gus!" You cheerfully wave them off, watching as your customer for the night took off. You sigh contently, feeling unnaturally happy about the whole interaction. Strange. — 'You bought a fish but you didn't ask for their name?' Gods, He totally forgot amidst everything. Steven had made it back home, his lip curling into a subtle frown as Jake bought forth a very valid point. The male couldn't help but sigh out loud, gently face palming as he realized his error. Maybe Steven didn't manage to catch their name or learn more about them but as he laid in his bed, he found himself recalling how beautiful that store clerk looked when they smiled. And besides, he made a new friend— a companion he was starting to adore quite alot.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x gender neutral reader #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #moonknight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #reader insert

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 2)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by john.marino97, jesperbratt, and 226,513 others

y/ndevils00 hello and welcome back to your preseason recap! i’m your host, y/n “dove”, here to give you my totally unbiased and not at all subjective rundown!

as this is preseason, not all of our favorite whores were playing tonight (gotta give the babies a chance!) but among the ones who WERE, we have best friend (or idiot) number 2, sweet baby jesper, akira-shakira, basket bahl, smush, uncle lizard, new-found uncle truffle, and everyone’s favorite babygirl: jacky!

side note: do you guys think Jack was looking around suspiciously in fear of me taking his picture? 👀

we had a pretty uneventful first period until my recently acquired uncle, tyler, scored the first goal of the game! go uncle truffle! he also let uncle lizard borrow his stick and glove! we love besties who share!

we opened second period with (fuck it we) bahl getting a penalty for interference! in my opinion, he didn’t interfere with anything because trash cannot be disrupted… but whatever! (yes i did stand on an empty seat to get that picture over the glass, no i will not be stopped)

halfway through second we had a goalie switch! those are fun! (they are not fun.) and i was caught taking a picture…. that doesn’t happen often, the guys can’t usually find me… i think schmido-torpedo has a y/n-sense. kinda like the sense i have to catch Jack when he’s watching cocomelon (that can also be found on slide 6)

in third period, my sweet sweet baby bratter got the devils ahead by one with his goal! pop off, you sweet swedish fish!

seeing as he went to the matt tkachuk school of hockey, lukey pookie was seen chewing on his mouth guard like LSH and electrical cords 🫶

and finally, i added in a picture of maraschino cherry, because he did good tonight despite being the apparent object of the rags hatred and being targeted! he held his own and even pushed a rags player tonight!

p.s. we scored an empty netter goal as well, getting us a 3-2 win tonight, but the puck flew in on its own for us? who knew that was possible!

tagged jackhughes, curtislazar95, tofff73, kevinbahl88, akiraschmid93, jesperbratt, lhughes_06, and john.marino97

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jackhughes i live in constant fear of your camera

y/ndevils00 oh shush, you love my camera

jackhughes no, i love YOU. i put up with your camera

y/ndevils00 aw shucks, you love me 🥰

jackhughes dear god please don’t ever say “aw shucks” again

y/ndevils00 ya know, i’m not really feeling the love here

jackhughes never intended for you to

user29 marino: 😗 y/n: 📸

john.marino97 did i just get… outright praise from you?! i thought i knew what it felt like to win, but i never REALLY did until now

y/ndevils00 don’t get used to it. i pitied you and best friend number 1 didn’t play tonight

john.marino97 i’m gonna ignore that

jackhughes for the last time: I’M WATCHING PLAYS! NOT COCOMELON!

y/ndevils00 say what you want but i know your youtube history

kevinbahl88 i was trying so hard to ignore you

y/ndevils00 you can’t ignore me forever, soccer bahl! i always get to the players eventually!

kevinbahl88 you scare me

y/ndevils00 you’re like 10 feet tall, how do EYE scare YOU? you could squash me like a spider

kevinbahl88 or i could not be watching and trip over you and break my neck

y/ndevils00 this feels like an attack on MY height now… @/colecaufield how do you deal with this?

colecaufield now hold on… wtf

akiraschmid93 i do have a y/n sense, i acquired it over the playoffs

y/ndevils00 that scares me

akiraschmid93 i’m always watching

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes TELL HIM TO STOP

jackhughes how does it feel, dove?

y/ndevils00 i- LSH and i are moving in with john

john.marino97 no, you’re not! i can’t have you there to cockblock when i’m trying to hook up

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 this is why dawson is best friend number 1

lhughes_06 did you just compare me to your cat with an apparent death wish?

y/ndevils00 be nice to Lil’ Satan! she may not be smart, but where she lacks brain cells, she makes up for in cuddles! kinda like your brother!

jackhughes all i do is love you and this is the thanks i get?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you get other kinds of thanks too! but you said i can’t speak of that on here anymore

lhughes_06 god please don’t. i see all your posts.

user18 y/n is out here acquiring uncles like i acquire new nhl crushes

tofff73 did you just nickname me truffle? and call me your uncle?

y/ndevils00 welcome to the devils!

tofff73 thanks? i think?

nicohischier you get used to her, she’s an acquired taste… but you have no choice but to acquire it

curtislazar95 you are my favorite niece

y/ndevils00 🥹 and you are my favorite uncle, lizard man 🫶

curtislazar95 🦎💚

jesperbratt hey! that’s me!

y/ndevils00 that’s you!! you look at you all smiley and scoring a goal! i’ll break lindy’s kneecaps for you… i don’t think it would be that hard. he’s old.

nicohischier y/n, i’m BEGGING you to stop dissing our coach. you’re gonna lose your job!

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier nah, lindy thinks i’m funny

jackhughes @/nicohischier i wish she was joking but i’m pretty sure he called her his honorary daughter last sunday after she said she would be in his walls if she couldn’t go to Montreal and see Cole

dawson1417 i feel left out. i don’t like not playing!

y/ndevils00 so get your skates on and play! what lindy gonna do? tell you no?

dawson1417 uh yeah?

y/ndevils00 oh- well leave that up to me then

dawson1417 what are you gonna do…

y/ndevils00 shhh don’t worry about it

trevorzegras i’m so glad i’m not a devil and don’t have to be subjected to these posts

y/ndevils00 you’re unemployed, you should probably be worrying about bigger things right now before i have to see you as a thirst trap tiktoker

user72 the return of jack the ipad kid!!

#media management au! #media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

[bluerosefox]

Danyal, Danny, Phantom.

Part 1 (Where the idea came from, very bare bones)

Okay wow, wasn’t expecting so many people wanting a part 2 tbh, also thank you for the follows as well (although IDK why you’d want to follow me, I’m random and rarely post sometimes.)

So before I get into this part 2, I just wanna make a few things clear.

I’m still new to DC/Batman most I know if from the animated series and I haven't seen it in ages, I have been able to get bits and pieces here and there though.

ANYONE is welcomed to use these ideas/concepts, just let me know, send me it, allow me to read it please. If anyone wants to draw some the ideas too that’ll be amazing, just let me know! I wanna see!

Also, I might, keyword MIGHT, actually write this idea into a story too, idk yet maybe. its been years since I wrote an actual fic tbh so I’m a little rusty. (You can actually see I used more of my writing style on this one compared to the last one tbh)

Also the reason I split these idea/concept into parts is the fact I tend to ramble and I knew if I wrote it on part 1 it would had gotten so long so here’s a fresh page with the rest of the ideas...

So the reason why I had this idea is because I read some fics where Ra’s always knows about Danny being either the Ghost King or a Halfa, or can fight him cause he has knowledge, I wanted a story where even Ra’s can be surprised and realizes there will ALWAYS be a ‘bigger’ fish even for that old ‘immortal’ (especially if Danny is Ra’s “failure of a heir.”)

Sorry this took a while, I wrote Part 1 at the end of me being sick by Covid, had to catch up on a few RL things, and legit a few days later my AC unit upstairs broke during a CA heatwave and it was pure HECK being in my room.

Danny is a little out of character but this is how I feel he'll be like with a year of being the Ghost King could be, along with the fact he has help from his friends and ghost friends as well. He's learned how to rule and has grown.

Oh be prepared, this is what happens when I’m allowed to ramble on ideas. This... This got rambly. (You should had seen this and part 3 together, it was so rambly)

So, a few things to note about Danny before we begin.

His name was is Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) Daniel “Danny” Fenton.

He was also known as (Ghost Boy, Ghost Child, Ghost Punk, Halfa) Danny Phantom

He also had other names as well such as The Great One, or Savoir of the Ghost Zone

But... for the last year he has been known as...

Ruler of the Infinite Realm, His Royal Highness King Phantom. Or as he would rather be simply referred to as (when he’s forced to have/use a title)...

The Ghost King.

...King Phantom also worked.

Simple yes, but Danny preferred it. (Again only when he’s forced to use a title, which sadly since being crowned the new King is most of the time now and only those close to him still call him Danny or at the very least Daniel (coughClockworkcough).

SO.... Its had been a year since Danny had been crowned the new Ghost King, sure he was still a teen and it was honestly very hard in the beginning. Learning the ins and outs of the royal courts, setting up his inner court (aka those he trusted), dealing with entitled nobles, and how to handle the the weight of the crown he now wore but he knew he didn't have to face it by himself. Well not all of it, there was a few things he did on his own in order to prove he's a fair King, but Danny honestly loved it when he could get together with his inner circle (more like family) and discuss the recent news of the Infinite Realm (which Danny learned was the actual name of the Ghost Zone, he long since switched to using that name over the one his parents coined), problems needing to be addressed, and upcoming important festivals or days (Danny knew of the Holiday Truce but he didn't know of any other Ghost holidays/festivals until his ghost friends explained them to him) along with a number of his Kingly duties. This was just barely touching the surface of what Danny had to do nearly daily and again it took a while but he eventually was getting the hang of being a King.

Funny enough one of those duties turned out to be healing the oozing scars the old Ghost King left on the Mortal Realm during his reign... because those scars eventually became the Lazarus Pits and had they been causing harm in the Mortal Realm.

By the Ancients, the Lazarus Pits.

That was something Danny hadn't been expecting to hear so soon after regaining his memories from before living with the Fenton’s. And when Clockwork explained it to him, a small smirk on the always age changing beings face, that all the Pits would eventually dry up thus they would no longer be able to revive the dead once Danny started healing them...

Danny had laughed when he had been told this information.

He laughed until he had started to cry. He had even laughed so hard he changed back from his ghost form to his living one and then back again because he lost breath from his laughter. (It actually concerned his friends, Dani and Jazz when this happened tbh) It took a while but when Danny’s laughter finally trailed into hiccups, light coughs, and deep breaths, Clockwork merely floated over and asked with all-knowing smirk on his face “Quite done Daniel?”

You see the reason why this was funny to Danny was the fact that he was finally getting revenge on his ex-grandfather for... well for everything. And he was going to enjoy ruining Ra’s al Ghul treasured little Lazarus Pits with pure glee. The amount of pure joy he felt knowing this even surpassed his feelings for when he’s able to mess up Vlad’s evil plans for the month.

As mentioned before, Danny had no memories upon waking up in a hospital after nearly losing his life from wounds no child should ever have on their bodies. It wasn’t until the night after his crowning that as he dreamed of his past, it was in these dreams he had finally remembered everything. When he had woken up he had instantly went flying to Clockwork’s lair to speak with the time keeper, especially when he had remembered the last thing he had saw before waking up in the hospital.

[“Why?” that was all Danny would ask when seeing the ageless ghost, not bothering to say hello or even small talk like they normally would do, if he had been his living form he would had been breathing heavily from the speed he flown to get there.

“It hadn’t been your time, your Highness.” was the only reply before the ticking of clocks in the room filled the silence between them.]

He had been Danyal al Ghul, the second heir to the Demon Head Ra’s al Ghul, the League of Assassins leader and his grandfather, son of Talia al Ghul, and twin brother to first heir Damian al Ghul.

Talia, his mother, was a stoic woman. A true Assassin. Beautiful yet deadly.  Someone Danyal could see now who would do anything to stay in power if he was to be honest with himself. But she did love him and Damian in her own way, only showing them this parental love when they were alone, away from servants and other assassin’s eyes. Some of his fondest memories of the woman had been her cupping his face and speaking softly of how much he looked like her “Beloved”, their father. His eyes, and hair (and his 'soft' heart) were the only things he knew about his father, the only thing he has been allowed to know.

Damian, his twin brother, both of them mostly sharing the same face with small differences and build at the time, his other half, the one that he had came into this world together had, was, is the one Danyal would die for. And he did. His brother was the prefect heir, the prefect budding assassin in the eyes of the others in Nanda Parbat. Much like their mother he tended to try to hide his emotions behind an emotionless mask, he always carried himself stronger than Danyal would, despite them both being five years old they had been born into this life and learned very quickly how to survive that place. But behind closed doors the two would often talk in whispers, of the what ifs of their lives, how their day was, etc etc. Danyal’s fondest memories of his brother was them sneaking out to watch the stars late at night and making a promise to always face any problem together as they held hands and lightly tapped each with their fingers.   

His grandfather, Ra’s however was a ruthless and cold man. An ‘immortal’ due to the Lazarus Pits that always brought him back to life, and he had always hated Danyal. No matter what Danyal would do it was always a failure to his grandfather, it didn’t matter if he tried his hardest to be a ‘perfect’ little assassin like his brother, everything he did in the older man’s eyes was a mistake. Any mistakes Danyal did was often met with punishment and pain. He had no fond memories of the man, only a deep seeded mutual dislike if anything.

And it was with this hatred for Danyal, that had caused Ra’s to summon both his grandchildren one night to the combat room and demanded for them both to fight for heir ship. A fight that would end in one of them dying, something all of them in room knew it would lead to. A fight two five years did not want to do but had no choice. Not even Talia’s disbelieving single protest to the fight could not stop Ra’s command.

As the Demon Head, his word was law.

In the end, Danyal couldn’t wouldn’t harm his brother (his grandfather always hated how ‘soft’ his heart was, "to much like his father" was often said with a tsk). They were both only five years old, they were brought into the world together, they told secrets behind closed doors and whispered dreams under the endless sea of stars they would sneak out to see, they would lightly tap messages with their fingers when the other would have bad days and didn’t wish to speak about it but wanted some sort of comfort.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t harm his brother but Damian... Danyal knew Damian would follow the order to fight despite not wanting to as well, Damian always followed orders with little to no fuss unlike Danyal who always second guessed with whys and questions, Danyal also knew Damian would believe he would fight back in defense at least...

But he didn’t.

Some of the few things he remembered was Damian’s eyes widen in horror, his mother’s uncaring mask and body twitch for a moment, and his grandfather ‘tsking’ at him before he fell onto the cold stone floor. After that his memory became hard to remember, foggy but he knew of this.The pain he felt hurt and he tried so hard to stay alive for a few moments more, he could barely hear anything over his own harsh and deep breathing, his body felt heavy and his hands felt wet from the blood seeping out around him. Danyal could barely hear his grandfather’s voice, and could barely make out Ra’s leaving while his mother guided Damian out of the room, she did not look back and Damian moved like a puppet on a string being pulled away. Danyal barely registered hands lifting him up and carrying him out of the room, his vision slowly fading as he was carried in the dimly lit halls of his ‘home’. His memory became very spotty after that, barely noticing he had been left outside the compound to die and as he took in a harsh breath in an attempt to get air, he could hear two words as clear as day.

“Time Out.” and the only sound following those two words was the ticking of clocks while the last thing he saw was the always changing form of a ageless being.

After that Danyal would be found outside of a random hospital in America, far from his place of birth, far from his mother and brother, barely hanging as doctors rushed to save this five year olds life. He would awake weeks later, with no memories of his own to speak of, and then one night a strange star plush/pillow would be gifted to him with the name Daniel on it. He would be bounced around foster home to foster home after he was cleared to leave the hospital and the cops had no leads on who or where he came from.

Daniel would eventually meet Jazz at the park and later her parents and worm his way into their hearts, he would later be adopted by them and live a somewhat normal life (as one can be with ghost hunting parents but at least he got Jazz as an older sister, even with Jack and Maddie’s rather unhealthy... obsession with ghosts he knew they loved him)

Ra’s failed second heir was no more, his name and life no longer mentioned in Nanda Parbat, Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) was by all intents and purpose dead to the man and to the League.

Now Daniel “Danny” Fenton lived in his place...

Up until that fateful day when he was fourteen, after that he was only half alive and once again became someone kind of new. A halfa this time. Danny Phantom.

And who would had guessed (not Ra’s that's for sure), he later would become The Ghost King, the Ruler of the Infinite Realm.                   

So imagine Danny’s surprise when as he had left his house for school one morning, he may be a King but hey he still needed his education according to Jazz (and Clockwork), when he had been ambushed and attacked by some assassins from the League and knocked out... (Shush his own assassin training was rusty and he hadn’t had time to practice them too much, his last major battle had been that all out brawl a week before his coronation with him vs his enemies, fun times. He also rarely got kidnapped since his crowning, half awake due to his Kingly duties and studying for Mr. Lancer’s 70% final grade test (Fun fact I had an actual teacher who did this) that Friday and honestly Danny wasn’t expecting assassins from the League to show up since the whole being pretty much declared dead to them thing)

Only to later slowly wake up on the familiar rough stone ground in Nanda Parbat (the smell, the sounds, the stonework. He often saw them in his dreams and memories but knew it was real this time) his hands bound and his body aching from laying motionless on the hard ground for a while. He put on a confused look on his face as he slowly rose and groaned in pain as he subtly took a moment to look around.

Thank the Ancients Danny still knew how to fake an injury, and play dumb/confused from his time tricking some of the his more annoying ex-enemies? (Skulker, Walker, etc.) even though it had been a year since he last had to do so with them (besides Vlad, he’s still his enemy no matter what and still seemed really salty Danny was a King now and was treated like an outcast by most ghosts, none wanting to be the opposite side of their King so hey perks). It had been a good way to make them drop their guards if they thought Danny was still at his ‘weakest’ when they caught him by surprise. It still pretty funny when Vlad tries though, this act always catches that fruitloop off-guard no matter how many times.     

It was a Lazarus Pit room judging by the smell/feel of it at first and later confirmed when he noticed the green toxic ooze nearby. Ugh just being on this side of the Realm and sensing that stuff was disgusting, it wasn’t as bad in the Infinite Realm due to the fresh and clean ectoplasm around it masking most of the bad smell but boy did it reek on this side. 

Danny blinked a few times to sell his acting, whispering a confused “Where am I?” under his breath, and looked around before his eyes landed on someone in front of him and flinched back a bit, no acting needed this time.

Ra’s was in the room sitting on a throne chair staring at him with that ever burning hateful glare yet Danny could see another emotion, an emotion he was very used to Vlad having on his fruitloop face. His ex-grandfather had a plan and it was gonna be painful or annoying for Danny to deal with, he knew it...

And...AND was that knocked out Batman and Robin also tied up in chains and guarded by few assassins in the room as well?! WHY IS THAT A THING?!

-x-x-

Heyyyyy so... umm I decided to split it into another part cause it was getting mega long again when all together and I was like roughly halfway done with it and just... I wanted to write out so much, also Tumblr almost made me loose the WIP of this many many times so I’m being careful. Good news almost done with it (and it won’t take as long as this part did promise)

This is basically Danny’s side of things of being King, his inner thoughts, his past relationships with the al Ghul’s, and snippets how he had grown into his King self tbh. Probably didn't need to do this but as an old school writer I wanted to make a base so to speak. The best and fun part is up next. and to prove it, here’s the title and a sneak peek for it.

Summoning a King (Or alternatively: It was at this moment, Ra’s knew he F’d up.)

Yeah as said before it took ALL of Danny’s training not laugh in hysterics. Oh the irony. Sacrificing the Ghost King... to summon the Ghost King.... Danny honestly wanted to say something, the words on his lips being a sarcastic “You sure that's gonna work out for you, you moldy old fruitloop?” but Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing so.

TAGLIST:

Also I’m starting a tag list so if anyone wants on it for the next part please let me know asap so I can add you.

[EDIT: Taglist now closed until next update! Sorry!]

@sxnkisses @thenerdycupcake @sealover89 @remydumb @moonscat @fuck-you-too-world @hecate-hollow @ae-vixrose

#Danny Phantom #batman #dp x dc #dp #dc #danyel #damian #Damian al Ghul #danny fenton #ghost king danny #twins au #Talia al Ghul #Ra's al Ghul #clockwork #jazz fenton #robin #mentions mostly #this is the groundwork for the next part #i'm sorry its not too exciting #the summoning is up next #promise #I was given permission to ramble #and I did #and it ran off #and became a lot #danyal al ghul

[sixhours]

One Day at a Time - Chapter 2 - Implantation

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

And that should have been that.

Joel’s new life in Jackson was busy. Contracting projects always picked up this time of year. Patrols got more eventful as the last of the snow melted. There was work to do, and he had Ellie to consider.

Ellie, his fifteen-year-old ward, the second daughter he didn’t know he needed until she was forced on him in a desperate time. Things with Ellie were complicated for many reasons, all of which they were trying to ignore. She vacillated between treating him like a father and pretending he didn’t exist with not a lot of in-between. She’d recently moved out of his house and into the garage, and he hoped the extra space would improve their relationship, but it was too soon to tell.

Accidentally fucking his patrol partner in a drunken stupor was low on his list of concerns.

He put the whole ordeal in the back of his mind.

Mostly.

He saw Charlie around, of course. It was hard to miss her flash of silver-white hair during town meetings or meals at the caf. He might get a nod or a smirk in passing, and that was fine. He might have even felt a glancing flush of heat creep up his neck when she smiled at him, and that was fine, too.

But then…things got weird.

She’d see him coming down the street and cross to the other side. She ducked her head and avoided his eyes whenever they crossed paths during patrol prep. She suddenly wasn’t around in the usual hangout spots–the Bison, the caf. Then she missed three patrol shifts in a row. When he asked Tommy about it, he just shrugged and said she’d called out sick.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. They’d agreed to pin it on drunken stupidity and move on, but maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe she regretted it. Maybe she hated him.

And maybe that shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.

He should have let it go.

He’s eating with Ellie in the caf when he sees Charlie come in, stamping the mud off her boots. She gets halfway to the serving counter and then stops mid-stride, faltering. She turns abruptly and catches him staring–her eyes lock on Joel’s for an uncomfortable length of time, long enough for Ellie to notice and turn around.

Then her eyes grow wide and she ducks her head and makes a beeline for the door, leaving the caf in a rush. The whole thing takes just a few seconds.

Ellie turns back to look at him. “Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah…”

He’s still watching the door, waiting to see if Charlie will come back, but she doesn’t. After a moment’s hesitation, he gets up.

“I’ll…be right back,” he says faintly, leaving his tray and his confused kid behind.

He catches up with her down the street, startling her with a hand on her shoulder. She wheels around, eyes wide and…tired, he thinks. Anxious. Like she’s just barely holding herself together.

“What?” she snaps.

He opens his mouth, realizing a moment too late that he doesn’t know what to say. He gapes like a fish for a few miserable seconds before he finally settles on the truth.

“You’re avoidin’ me.”

“I’m not,” she says, crossing her arms and setting her jaw.

“Then lemme walk you home.”

Her lips flatten into a thin line. “I’m not going home.”

“Then walk me home,” he says quickly. “M’up this way.”

She considers this, then rolls her eyes and continues up the road toward Rancher Street.

“I’m not avoiding you, Joel,” she huffs.

“Then what was that back at the caf?”

“I…wasn’t hungry.”

“I haven’t seen you around. Tommy said you were sick.”

“I’m fine.”

They continue in silence, Charlie tucked into herself with her head down, him trying to make his dumb, slow brain cooperate and figure out how to get her to open up. The walk is over too quickly. 

“This is me,” he says when they’re firmly planted in front of the house on Rancher Street. “Look, if I, uh, did somethin’–”

“You didn’t.”

“I just mean…we said–”

“I know what we said and that’s still the case,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, agitated, almost…scared. “We said it wouldn’t be weird and it’s not, you’re just…making it that way.”

Her face screws up and she swallows hard; he can see the way her arms tighten around herself as she talks, pale fingers almost white with the ferocity of her grip.

His voice softens, unconsciously slipping into the tone he uses when Ellie’s having one of her nightmares. His hand twitches at his side, wanting to touch her, to console her, but he won’t.

“Charlie? What’s wrong?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly, then suddenly pushes past him, ducking off to the side of the house to vomit next to his garbage can. She heaves and spits and wipes her mouth with a soft fuck . 

He moves toward her, reaches out a hand to steady her, but her next words freeze him in place.

“I’m pregnant.”

For one endless moment, this information doesn’t register. The words don’t make sense, echoing in his head until they’re reduced to nonsense syllables.

“You’re–that’s not–”

Charlie’s arms are folded over her chest, staring numbly at a spot on the ground near Joel’s feet.

“I thought you were…I thought you…couldn’t…I don’t–”

“You thought I couldn’t?”

“You’re just…we’re…older,” he finishes lamely.

She cocks her head, considering him from under long lashes. “How old do you think I am, Joel?”

Oh hell no. That’s a trap if he ever heard one. “M’not gonna answer that.”

“I’m thirty-six.”

“You’re–”

He feels his knees buckle. Christ, he’s old enough to be her fucking father. Sarah would be the same age if she’d lived–

Sarah.

He tries and fails miserably to make it look like his taking a seat on the porch steps is intentional.

Suddenly he’s twenty-two and having this exact conversation, parked in his parents’ beat-up station wagon in an empty lot in the middle of nowhere, Texas, the cute high school senior he’d met only a few months before riding shotgun with a plastic pee stick in her lap. His whole fucking life about to change, and now it’s happening again.

“Grayed early,” she says, absently touching her short silver locks, pulling him out of this painful reverie. “It’s hereditary.”

He swallows hard and grips the rough wood of the step under him, feels the prick of a splinter and doesn’t care. “You’re sure it’s mine?”

The acid look she gives him could melt steel.

“You’re the only person I’ve fucked in the last, oh, three years, so yeah. I’m pretty fucking sure.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moans softly, head swimming.

“It’s not like I asked for this, either,” she snaps.

A glimmer of bittersweet hope, then. Maybe she doesn’t want this. He sure as hell doesn’t want this. Maybe…

“What are you going to do about it?” he asks carefully, looking up at her from his spot on the steps.

This appears to give her pause, face suddenly pinched with something like grief.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It means I don’t fucking know. You followed me out here,” Charlie hisses. “I wasn’t even going to tell you, but then you fucking cornered me!”

He’s stunned into silence, stung by her venom. He knows what he’s supposed to say. He knows he should say it’s her choice, that he’ll support her no matter what. But fuck if he can make himself say the words.

He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Whatever,” Charlie says. “You don’t need to–you’re not obligated–don’t worry about it.”

He gapes. Don’t worry about it? How the hell is he not supposed to worry about this?

But she’s already turned on her heel and is marching away. He wants to get up and follow her but he can’t force his legs to hold him, so he stays, rooted in place by a panic that feels like deja vu.

He’s still sitting there when Ellie’s shadow falls over him, many minutes later.

“You look like you’ve seen a bloater,” she says dryly.

“I’m…fine, kid. M’fine,” he mumbles, wiping at his face.

“Thanks for ditching me for your girlfriend back there.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mutters. “Don’t you have homework or somethin’?”

“Ugh. Yeah, but I’d rather bug you,” she grins, plopping down on the step next to him. “Besides, it’s movie night. Maria says it’s one of those cheesy action ones you like. Figured you’d want to go.”

He looks at her then, and his eyes must give something away, because she cocks her head, worried. “Joel?”

Oh, god, and he has Ellie to think about now. Everything with her is so fragile, so tenuous, and he’s gone and thrown another wrench into the works. He turns his head so she doesn’t see the single, traitorous tear that’s threatening to escape.

“Yeah,” he croaks out. “Yeah, kid, let’s…go see a movie.”

He doesn’t taste the popcorn, doesn’t follow the plot, and doesn’t remember saying goodnight to Ellie when the movie is over. Then he goes to bed and lays on his back and stares at the ceiling until his alarm goes off several hours later.

~*~

The next morning, he’s prepping for patrol, lost in the same hazy fog of shock, when Charlie rides up beside him.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he bites out before he can stop himself.

“I’m on the schedule,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“It’s…you’re…” he swallows hard, looking around to make sure no one is listening. He hauls himself into the saddle and leans in. “You’re fuckin’ pregnant.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“You can’t–”

“Your sister-in-law was out here until she was six months along, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, but–”

She glares at him. “But what?”

He groans in frustration, looking around. “Who’re you with?”

“Allan,” she nods to the curly-haired woman waiting by the gate with Tommy. “She’s new.”

“Fuck that,” Joel says. “She needs someone with more experience. Tommy can take her.”

It’s bullshit and he knows it. Charlie has been part of Jackson’s patrol roster longer than Joel, but before she can protest, he urges his horse to the gate to meet up with his brother.

“Tommy, we’re switching. I’m gonna go with Charlie. You take the new girl.”

Tommy studies him, glances back at Charlie, and raises an eyebrow. “If you say so, big brother.”

Joel scowls. “Don’t get ideas, s’not like that.”

“Didn’t say nothin’,” Tommy smirks. “Be safe.”

The gates creak open and the patrol team strides through, pairs breaking off to go their separate ways.

“What the fuck was that?” Charlie hisses when Tommy and his new partner are out of earshot.

“We should talk,” Joel mutters. “Figured this was better. Unless you wanted the whole fuckin’ town to know.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

That earns her a look. “You’re carrying my fuckin’ kid. I think we can find somethin’ to talk about.”

“It’s not ‘your kid’ or my kid or anyone’s kid until it’s born, and that’s…that’s not…likely to happen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitch. “It means…I’ve been pregnant before. Multiple times. They don’t usually…take.”

He gapes. “Multiple…?”

“Oh, don’t fucking look at me like that,” she snaps. “It’s not what you’re thinking, not that it’s any of your damn business. I don’t make it a habit of getting knocked up. I had a life before Jackson.”

Heat crawls up his neck. He opens his mouth to apologize but nothing comes out. They ride in silence for several painfully awkward minutes.

“It’s fine,” Charlie says finally, staring straight ahead. “It’s something I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with. Probably some hormone imbalance or whatever. I’ve never carried a pregnancy past nine weeks.”

He tries to count backward, to find that damp March day and the hazy hungover memory of their coupling.

“How many weeks has it been?”

“Eight and a half,” she says flatly. “Don’t worry, I’ll probably start cramping any day now.”

There’s a sadness in her voice that catches him off guard, tugs at his heart.

He’d only wanted to be a father in hindsight. He only knew he couldn’t live without his children when he’d held them in his arms, real and alive. He’d never had the chance to dream about what it would be like, only to have that dream cruelly stolen away.

They ride in a silence that Joel would normally prefer, but suddenly it’s stifling and heavy, almost suffocating.

“So, uh, Charlie…is that short for somethin’?”

She glances at him, bemused. “It’s Charlotte. I used to go by Lottie, but after the outbreak, I found it was…easier if people thought I was a guy. Short hair and all. The nickname stuck.”

“How’d you make it to Jackson?”

“I was part of a group that left Kansas City before the rebellion. Me and six others,” she shifts in the saddle. “One of them was a Firefly, had heard about Jackson through the grapevine and wanted to try to find it. We left in the winter, things got rough. I was the only one who made it. That was three years ago.”

“How, uh, long were you in Kansas City? Before that?”

She shoots him a look. “From day one.”

“So you were–”

“Fifteen. I was born and raised outside the city and was moved to FEDRA territory when the outbreak hit. I considered myself lucky at the time. Of course, we didn’t know how bad it would get.”

“You have family?”

“My folks and brother were killed. It’s just me.”

“M’sorry.”

She shrugs. “Was a long time ago.”

They ride in silence.

“So what’s your tragic story?” she says dryly. “I’m guessing you found Jackson because you’re Tommy’s older brother. Where’d you come from?”

“Boston.”

“That’s a pretty fuckin’ weird Boston accent,” she says, lightly mimicking his drawl.

“Originally from Texas,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek. “And there’s not much to tell. Shit hit the fan on my 36th birthday. Tommy and I got out.”

She whistles. “You’re older than you look.”

“M’not sure if that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“And Ellie? She’s your daughter?”

Your daughter. He still can’t hear the word without picturing Sarah first, a little betrayal.

“I’m the one they call when she’s gettin’ into trouble, yeah,” he mutters. “She, uh…she found me in Boston, we made the trip out here together. She’s a good kid. Seen a lot of shit.”

“Haven’t we all.”

A longer silence as they ride toward the outpost, interrupted only by birdsong and the regular thudding rhythm of the horses’ steps.

He clears his throat. “You’ll, uh, tell me if it doesn’t…take, right?”

She snorts. “I’ll let you know when you’re off the hook.”

“No,” he frowns. “I meant…you shouldn’t have to go through somethin’ like that alone.”

Her gaze in his peripheral vision lingers for a bit too long.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll tell you.”

#the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller #fanfic #fic recs #babyfic

[heartfullofleeches]

Supernatutral Yandere Harem x GN reader

Word count: 1k

Warning; swearing

/1/2/3/

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“Quiet, Sharon. It’s happening again.”

-

With time, you had reluctantly grown used to all the new members of your household. As a break for your dwelling sanity, the latest addition wasn’t as clingy as the others. Though they gave the occasion stare and more of your belongings had gone missing than ever before, the reaper kept to themselves for the most part. With their distance and the fact they save your life; you didn’t mind them as much. Plus they had a literal hold of your heart, but you tried not to think about that as much. As an added bonus, they didn’t try to take over your bed like Alasdair and Baron had; instead choosing the couch as their makeshift bed. This wasn’t much of a problem… until you happened to need a place to sit down or lost something. 

“Shit… where are my keys.” 

You mutter in frustration as you search your dresser for your house keys, opening one of its drawers to check there. After failing to wake up due to some mysterious force, you now had to rush to get ready for work. Said force was still half asleep in your bed, arms wrapped around your pillow and occupying the space that you once did. 

“Baron, did you take my keys again?”

He shakes his head, burying his face further into the pillow. “No… but maybe that means you should just stay home today.”

“Not happening.” You hear him whine after you as you exit the room, heading towards the kitchen where the smell of toast and brewed coffee hit you in the face. Alasdair sat at the table, a plate across from him and a cup in his hand. 

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Have you seen my keys?”

“No, I haven’t. Coffee?”

You take the cup and a small sip with it, immediately handing it back to him. It was black, and you didn’t even have a coffee maker to begin with. He mouths the rim where your lips once where as you rush from the room and onto the next.

The grim reaper was lying on the couch as always, curried around a pillow with your shirt as its cover. 

Most people would freak out seeing a being from beyond the veil laying on their couch as would anyone who saw an angel or demon in the room prior, but when they looked like a tired college student and you’ve already had two other celestials in your home; the only thing that mattered was not being late to work again. 

“Hey. Wake up. I need to see if my keys are in the couch.”

They stir lightly, but their eyes remain shut.

“Maddox, come on I’m going to be late.”

That definitely catches their attention. They look up at you, slumber gone from their eyes. 

“What did you just say?”

“Maddox. That’s what I’ve been calling you in my head for the past few weeks. Can you move?”

Maddox slowly rises, a bubbly feeling arisen in their chest. They had never had a name before, only listed before as a mere number. It was one of the reasons they failed to give you their title until now. Names were more of a mortal thing, but upon being given one their opinion changed drastically. Their face felt slightly warm. Maddox – it’s nice.

“What the fuck?”

Baron stands at the entrance to the living, a mix of heartbreak and anger in his eyes.

You fish out your keys from the cushions. “Found them.”

“You gave them a name?”

You place the set in your pocket. “Yea, what about it?”

“What about it? What about me? I’ve asked you to give me one since we first met.”

“I needed something to call them by, and I’m pretty ninety percent sure giving them a name wouldn’t tie me to them, unlike whatever demon laws that exist.”

“I need to go. See you later.” You leave, despite Baron’s protests. He then turns his aggression on the property target, who had been sitting quietly until then.

“What makes you so damn special?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of our connection?” 

Baron's eyes narrow. “Are you trying to imply you’re Y/n’s favorite?”

“ I’m not implying anything, but.. I am in possession of their heart. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be with them now. The sands of time are lonely, but we could have made due there.”

“I literally own their soul.”

“But they have yet to give you a command.. doesn’t that make the contract void?”

“Listen here motherfucker-"

“What is going on in here?” Alasdair enters from the kitchen, morning ruined by the overheard bickering. 

“Y/n gave them a name and hasn’t given me one yet, when I’m clearly the favorite.” 

Alasdair sighs. “That’s a stretch if I’ve ever heard one. Y/n cares about us all equally, which isn’t very much as it is. If anyone is their favorite it would be me. I’ve been with them their entire life.”

“I’m a better guardian than anyone. Noone has bothered them since I came around.”

“Weren’t you by their side when they got shot?” 

Everything goes silent. Baron stared blankly at the angel. His chest heaves. His jaws unhinge, growls seething through clenched teeth.

“You son of a-"

-

Your neighbor sits on his front porch, watching everything unfold through a crack in your curtains. Nobody believed him when he said your house was full of monsters and whenever he tried to take pictures they came out warped. So now, he was stuck with being the only one with knowledge of your roommates, and the only one who shared in the loss of sanity. 

-

You walk faster as you hear your windows rattling in their frames. Not your circus, not your monkeys – at least until you got home. You spot your neighbor in his chair by his steps. You wave slightly, he hurries inside.

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[xo-rihanna]

Future Leader Part 1 - Neteyam Sully

Warnings - swearing, kind of enemies to lovers. Pairing - Neteyam x Tsu'teys Daughter (Reader) Summary - Tsu'tey survives the battle and has a daughter years later, the same time as Jake and Neytiri have their son, who will become the clan's first Olo'eykte. As she comes of age to take the position, the people are sceptical about having a woman leading them and suggest that Neteyam, son of the mighty Toruk Makto, would be better for the job. A/N - I literally just wrote an essay on Wuthering Heights and bawled my eyes out LOL so this might be short but I will be making a part 2 and possibly 3.

You and Neteyam had always felt in a competition. You had to be faster, stronger, better then eachother. You could say there was a rival between you. Even as children you envied eachother. If one caught a fish, the other would have to catch a shark. It was how it had always been. Neteyam was a mighty warrior, son of the great Toruk Makto and Neytiri. But you were the Olo'eyktan's daughter, you were born to lead. Traits of a great leader were demanded of you. And through your teenage years, Neteyam's skill only shot up like his height. You were determined to prove yourself but you had a lot to live up to.

Your father had started letting you lead war parties, starting the long process of training to become Olo'eykte. You loved the new responsibility, feeling like you were finally headed somewhere. Leading wars came naturally to you and the war party respected you for it.

It was just before noon and you went looking for Neteyam to tell him his place for the mission that day. You were going to ask for Neteyam to spot todays war party instead of be on the front line with you. The boy was so arrogant in combat that he needed to be taken down a few notches in your opinion and get used to playing other roles.

You found him sat with his brother, his guard was down and you caught a glimpse of what Neteyam must be like when he's not surrounded by competition. His smile was almost cute. Almost. "Neteyam, may I speak with you?" You asked, trying to make your voice as stone cold as possible. Neteyam sucked a breath and gave Lo'ak a look before standing to join.

You nodded and smiled to Lo'ak genuinely, you may have a rival with Neteyam but that didn't mean you disliked the rest of his family. Lo'ak grinned and nodded back before leaving to give you and Neteyam privacy.

You turned back to Neteyam, the masculinity was practically dripping off him. He was always tense with you around, always trying to make himself look bigger then her was. In all ways. "I want you on spotter today." You said to him simply.

Neteyam looked at you, his eyes a potent mix of amusement and something else you couldn't put your finger on. He scoffed, "You are joking."

You looked at him blankly, ignoring the feeling bubbling up in your stomach from his hard glare. "I'm not." You told him. Neteyam let go of an audible breath and poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue in annoyance. "Why would I be on spotter when you know I am the most valuable asset on the front line."

You cocked your head at him, looking at him through innocent eyes. "Do I know that?" You asked, your tail flicking with the exhilaration of deliberately getting on his nerves.

"Don't play, Y/n." It sounded almost like a threat as it came from gritted teeth. You smiled and shrugged, "I think you need to open your mind to the fact that I'll put you wherever I see fit, Neteyam."

You caught a glimpse of Neteyam's breath hitching in his throat at the sound of his name from your mouth. He just smiled and chuckled slightly, "Whatever you say, boss." His last word was soaked with animosity.

LATER IN THE MISSION

The mission was going well. You had successfully taken out the sky people's line of supply with only a few injured. Neteyam did well to stay in his position as spotter although you could tell it was slowly, agonisingly killing him.

The sky rumbled and darkened as a storm brew in, gusting cold air and rain down on us. It was difficult to see through the thick waves of rain drops. You quickly realised you could do no more in this condition and called everyone to fall back and take what they had with them.

You turned your Ikran around, ready to lead the war party through the angry storm when the sound of shots firing from below you made your heart jump in its cage. Sky people in huge mechanical suits were braving the storm, craving death. You gasped, this was not going to be easy. You could hardly see them let alone where you were going. A bullet skimmed your leg, just catching the side. Blood ran slowly down the graze wound. Luckily, there was too much adrenaline pumping in your veins for you to feel the pain.

You cursed and hoped that no one had seen it. Neteyam, however, did. In a second, he was barrelling towards the ground with an arrow draw in his bow. He looked just like his mother, Neytiri. His shot was impressive, quickly taking out one and then flawlessly drawing another arrow for the other. But regardless, he disobeyed your orders. You were never going to live this down.

You gave Neteyam a stone cold glare when he returned, water dripping down his face that was set as still as stone. He cocked his head like you had done to him previously and said, "You're welcome, your highness."

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