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#always wanted to make a edit of these two :')
viinieroxide · 3 days
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—seven days. [ vii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone
max: ANSWER ME
max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD
max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR
max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT
max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE
max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME
max: FUCK YOU [NAME]
max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD
max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF
max: IM GOING INSANE HERE
Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.
The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.
Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.
When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.
He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.
You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.
Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.
You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.
“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.
Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.
“I have beer.”
It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.
You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”
It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.
He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.
Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.
He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”
Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.
Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.
(“It's expensive here,” you said.
“I’ll pay,” Max offered.
“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”
You never did.)
Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.
His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.
Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.
He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.
Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.
Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.
Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.
I resigned, Max.
resigned.
Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.
He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.
A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.
Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.
max: hey im planning to visit the US
max: do you think you can show me around?
Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.
“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”
Max nods, “Yeah.”
“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”
“She told you?”
So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.
“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lawson?”
“Yes, Lawson.”
Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.
“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”
“Leo?”
Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.
“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”
Max pauses.
“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”
Max tries his hardest not to scream.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”
They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”
“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”
Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.
The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.
“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.
“Yeah.”
Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.
“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”
Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.
Julio died….?
Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.
The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.
“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.
“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—
Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.
“She needs to what?”
“You're angry.”
You reminded me, Max said in his mind.
“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”
Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”
Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.
Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.
“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”
Max contemplates.
He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.
And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.
Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.
After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”
“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”
“It’s Max Verstappen.”
Silence.
“Hello, are you still there?”
Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”
“Max Verstappen.”
“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”
“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”
“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”
“You're smart.”
“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”
“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.
“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”
“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”
“You don't know what you're talking about—”
“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”
“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?”
Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”
Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”
Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.
“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”
Leo sighs again.
“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”
You don't need Max.
But Max needs you.
That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.
“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”
“And how is this my fault?”
“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”
“I—”
“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”
Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.
“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”
A pause.
“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”
“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.
“Are you really?”
Is he really?
“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”
The call ends.
Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.
Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.
The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.
On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.
kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place
max: okay
kelly: also
kelly: *sent a photo*
kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault
kelly: you have a good one
The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“What’s wrong, baby?”
Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.
“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”
His mother does not look convinced.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”
At the mention of you, Max looks away.
“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”
The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.
He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.
“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.
“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.
“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”
“Oh.”
Sophie blinks.
“Max, you—”
“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”
Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.
Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.
Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.
Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.
He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.
Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.
max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?
His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.
Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.
“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.
“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.
Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”
“You’ve been talking?”
Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?
“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”
Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].
daniel: hey!
daniel: heard from max what happened
daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick
you: can't sorry
daniel: aww how about jeddah
daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial
you: idk man
you: might be too much noise and distraction for you
you: good luck in jeddah tho
A very passive aggressive reply.
“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.
Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.
Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.
It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.
“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”
“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”
Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Logan nods.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.
“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”
A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.
The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.
“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”
“What do you have there?”
“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”
“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.
“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.
“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.
“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.
Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.
“Please don't.”
Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.
Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:
“Mad Max is back.”
“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”
“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”
“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”
Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.
Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.
He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.
Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?
Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.
Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.
“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”
Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.
“Where's she?” Max demands.
“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”
Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.
He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.
No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.
Max's shoulders sagged.
He wasn't fast enough.
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mischiefmoons · 2 days
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now that we're older
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.5k
summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3
(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)
Luke lets you love him in the nighttime. 
It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours. 
And you let him. 
The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.
Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.
“You okay, angelface?”
Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.
“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”
Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”
“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.
“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.
He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.
“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.
Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.
“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.
“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.” 
“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s writing  it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare. 
“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”
He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously. 
“Got off the hook, trouble?”
The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.
“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”
“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.
Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”
“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”
“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”
“You’re my favorite memory, trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.
“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.
“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.
“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”
He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.
“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this. 
Not a dream, nor a titan.
You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.
“I love you, I love you, I love you…”
You let him love you in the mornings.
Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug. 
This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream. 
Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.
You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ” 
“Good morning, pretty girl.”
The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”
“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.
“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”
Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”
He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.
“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”
He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”  
“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes…None of it matters.”
“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…
“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.
“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”
“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”
“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”
He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?” 
You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.
He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.
“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?” 
You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.
“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”
He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…
The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.
“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”
You both sigh.
“You signed up for offense?”
“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, trouble…”
Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.
“Hey! Oof—”
Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.
“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”
Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.
“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”
“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”
You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.
Not if he can help it.
“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”
You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”
“What was that baby?”
Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”
Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.
“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”
Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.
You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder. 
Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.
“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl
 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
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angelanderson · 1 day
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give you what you need
— w. maximoff ☆ her girl au
with only one thing that could fix your morning, both you and wanda are desperate. you know your mommy will usually give you what you want… you just have to ask.
first extra for the her girl series!!I while wanda does have mostly unmentioned powers still, it is very much an au. all fluff (this time) MINORS DNI. cw: inherently unhealthy dynamics due to the nature of this series, finger sucking, mention of (past) spanking, soft dark mommy!wanda. mostly comfort!!!! edited-ish. *not an ageplay series*
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tapping her freshly manicured nails on the counter, wanda watches you like a hawk as you contemplate your next move. the witch has been dreading your impending meltdown since she woke up her grumpy girl this morning. it took a promise of blueberry pancakes for breakfast for you to verbalize that your issue was a poor night’s worth of sleep. unfortunately for the older woman, pancakes didn’t bring up your mood, nor did an offering of a relaxing bubble bath, one of your favorite times things.
tears threaten to spill down your checks as you try to soothe yourself. no longer wanting to sit by wanda, you’ve found the cool kitchen tiles to be more appealing. usually, you always want your mommy, especially when you’re upset, but the sheer exhaustion you feel has you acting out. no amount of appealing offers from the woman has been enough to placid you.
wanda gives it five more minutes before she steps in again; she can’t bear to see you like this. she approaches you as if you’re some wild animal that’s afraid. “dorogaya, why don’t you come with mommy, hmm? let’s fix those tears”, her voice comes out sweet as honey.
you’ve been so stubborn all morning, but the way wanda is looking at you is making your façade slowly slip. worrying at your bottom lip, you weigh your options— you know from past experience that she is not afraid to make you give in. thirty more seconds pass before you make your way into her arms, giving into her. you can faintly here her whisper how you’re a good girl as your shove your face into her shoulder.
as wanda tries to coax you out of her shoulder, she notices that you’ve shoved some of your fingers past your lips. since the day you met, even in your previous life as equals in a relationship, she has been trying to break you of the habit. “oh dove, what has mommy said about sucking on your fingers?”
“that ‘m not supposed to,” you messily say as you continue to refuse to remove them from your mouth. ever since you could remember, which was not much now, you’ve found comfort in self-soothing by having something in your mouth.
tsking, the witch gently coaxes your fingers out of your mouth. she ignores the cry you let out— how could she be a good mommy if she wasn’t consistent with you? she doesn’t let you pitch the fit she knows is coming. “dorogaya, come upstairs now. maybe mommy will let you get cozy in her bed, hmm?” even with sweetness, her tone leaves no room for argument.
it’s rare for her to go against her usual protocols; it’s how she keeps you in check. unbeknownst to you, wanda is willing to give into what she knows you secretly want if there’s a chance it’ll change your mood. when you’re grumpy, you’re grumpy. however, the almost promise of being able to nap in wanda’s room has your brain spinning enough that you don’t argue as she leads you to the stairs. so busy reeling with excitement, you don’t hear her sighs of relief as you two walk up together.
wanting to show your mommy that you can be her good girl again, you wait by her bedroom door, albeit antsy as you wait for her to catch up. you have quickly learned to mind not entering her bedroom or study without explicit permission. it only took two spankings that ended in loud cries to cement the rule in your brain. wanda clearly notices your commitment to her rules as she reaches the top. proudness fills her chest as she realizes how far you’ve both come from the start of this new life.
the soft smile gracing her lips has you like putty in her hands— you love nothing more than pleasing her. you eagerly let her guide you into her bedroom. you don’t pay much mind as she finds some new clothes for you to wear; she has a rule against dirty clothes in bed. while you haven’t been outside to play yet, your pajama top is tear stained and has a dash of dried pancake batter. you decide on the white chair in the corner as your place to perch until she’s ready for you.
too into your own world, your fingers find their way back into your mouth. your sudden push back into reality is caused by wanda’s grip on your wrist. your head snaps up to meet wanda’s cocked eyebrow; she’s not amused. while you let wanda remove your hand, you still let out a pitiful whine to let her know you’re not happy. wanda chooses to acknowledge it this time.
“less whining, milaya”, she scolds you. her hand reaches up getting ready to pull your top off. instead of letting wanda change your top, you impulsively slap her hand away.
you regret the second your hand makes contact with her hand. a red glow fills her eyes before you can even think about stuttering out an apology. as soon as the glow consumed her, it ends. a feat that has you feeling emotional whipslash. she beats you at another chance to speak first.
“mommy knows you’re only acting out because you’re tired, isn’t that right, milaya?” her grip tightens on your wrist as she speaks lowkey, “so mommy knows that you’re going to act right starting now. isn’t that right?”
that’s when it hits you: you’ve pushed wanda over the edge today. you know just how mean your mommy can be when you don’t listen. you immediately agree with her, “‘m really sorry! promise it!” to prove your point, your arms reach over your shoulders to quickly take off your shirt. wanda’s hum of approval lets you know you’re back in the clear… for now.
you let wanda change you like a doll after that— you’ll do anything to avoid the red glow from coming back. lucky for you, she grabbed the sweater you always nuzzle your face into when she wears it. it’s another not-so-noticeable way she’s helping keep you manageable this late morning. the soft texture keeps you like putty in her hands as she lays you down in her cloud-like bed. you’ve always been a sucker for soft things.
“my sweet girl, doing so good for me now,” the older woman coos out. feeling the bed dip, you move over some so she can rest with you. your haze filled mind has you reeling in the extra praise. when you don’t reply, wanda gets the hint about how floaty you’re feeling, “okay milaya, let’s rest now, hmm? mommy’s here with you.”
you nuzzle your way into her arms, letting her know you’re in agreement with her. you stay that way for a solid five minutes as she rubs your back in gentle circles. the sixth minute is when your need for a specific comfort comes back. you look back and forth between wanda and your fingers. so shyly, you finally speak up, “…mommy? um, i want some fingers?” you add on, “please!”
wanda doesn’t understand at first. she isn’t sure why you’d be horny right now— you never are after being reprimanded where her red glow comes out. she sighs, “not right now. maybe mommy’ll fuck you later tonight if you can be good for me.”
the look on your face let’s her know that is not what you meant. it takes all but two more seconds for it to click: you want something back in your mouth. wanda knows the tears that would come had she said no. the reprimanding is silly anyways, she thinks. while your oral fixation is only a newer appearance, she’s sure it can’t hurt for now. she would much rather save her energy for when truly you’re acting out, anyways. so she agrees, “yes, you may. such a silly rule anyways, hmm? you’re being my good girl.”
the praise has you craving something different: her fingers. it’s not something you’ve shown interest in before. but in your hazy state nothing sounds more comforting. what’s not to like? it’s attention for your mommy and a fix to your need.
the haziness makes it hard for the words to spill out of your lips. the mix of frustration over it and exhaustion have you teetering towards irritation again. wanda can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. always your savior, she steps in. “hush, dove. take a deep breath and try again.”
“i, um— i want your fingers. please!” you rush the words out so quickly that wanda almost doesn’t catch it. you’re still getting used to asking for what you what without being shy about it. while she typically would make you slow down, she can’t deny you any longer.
“well, since you said please”, she teases you. she mentally rolls her eyes at the huff you let out at her teasing.
you don’t have any time to make a quick remark back as two manicured fingers find their way to your bottom lip, slowing tracing it. a full drowsiness takes over your body. you quickly part your lips, welcoming her to stop the teasing. luckily, she gets your hint as she lets her fingers past your cherry lips. a wave of comfort comes over you as you wrap your lips around her fingers.
every sucking motion has you falling deeper and deeper into your cozy headspace. the exhaustion no longer feels world ending; it’s less overwhelming now. the comfort you’ve been craving all morning has finally found its way to you. everything she gives you just makes you feel so good!
being the good girl you are, you decide it’s only polite to thank her. after all, wanda does like it best when you mind your manners. “thank you ‘ommy”, you try to thank her, but the words come out messy due to the fingers in your mouth.
“don’t talk with things in your mouth. it’s not polite,” even with you being sweet, she just can’t help but tease you. she giggles when you whine in response. “okay, okay. i’m sorry, baby. let’s get you to sleep now, hmm?”
she sushes your whine, instead going to play with your hair the way she knows you like. wanda internally cheers as your eyes start to flutter shut. the grip of your lips on her fingers starts to loosen as the next few minutes go on. she can’t get herself to start her other tasks when you just look so adorable for her. she allows herself to stay until your breathing has completely evened.
had you been awake, you would see a flurry of red hair moving as slow as possible in order to not wake you. she can’t help but sneak a kiss on your forehead before she leaves her bedroom in order to go to pick some of the fresh fruit you’re obsessed with from the garden as a snack for later. a whisper fills the air as she slowly closes the door behind her, “silly girl, you just have to ask. you know mommy likes to give you what you want when you’re behaving.”
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ssahotchnerr · 1 day
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girl dad aaron AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION!!!!!!!
he would spend all his money at the ring toss just to get his girl the prize she wants. he would hold her hand on the swings. he would give into her begging to go on the big drop ride. he would ride in her bumper car, whispering, “c’mon. let’s bump into mommy. it’ll be funny.” he would make sure to smear her in sunscreen. he would let her wear his sunglasses. he would buy her dippin dots and funnel cakes and cotton candy. he would carry her on his shoulders. he would get wet on the water rides with her. he would guarantee they get to sit in the back or front carts (it’s only appropriate to sit in the front on some rides. other rides, it’s only appropriate to sit in the back. he would know which ride requires the back seat and which requires the front because he’s asked around because he wants his girl to have the best experience on the rollercoasters she can.) he would pack so much water to make sure everyone stays hydrated (he’s also got a fanny pack. i don’t make the rules.) he would pose for the cameras with her on the rides (silly faces, bunny ears, kissing her cheek, etc.) and he would obviously buy them and hang them on the fridge until the entire fridge is covered in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
aw aw awwww are you trying to make me cry?????? 😭💞💞💞
baby girl's his ride buddy of the day 🥹🥹🥹 it works out perfectly too. i feel like aaron's not too keen on rides - he gets nauseous easily and can only take so much 😭 whereas you're still okay - so you'll go on the more extreme rides with jack. as the two of you are doing that, aaron's on the more tame rides with baby girl, or standing on the sidelines with her in his arms, pointing out you and jack on the ride 🥰 and for the kiddie rides that don't fit an adult, jack happily goes on those with her hehe <3333 best big brother
aaron's hand is always in hers, she's in his arms, or in a stroller, just always accounted for. he's terrified she'll somehow wander away (although she knows not to) or he knows how easily someone could come swoop her up and take her far away (mosley lane 😭😭😭😭) and STOP the visual of her on his shoulders, in his sunglasses that are far too big for her, gripping onto his hair or his head as she chatters away - pointing out what she sees, what rides she wants to go on, what snacks smell yummy, or simply talking about anything <3333 sobbing
when it comes to the prizes, aaron's definitely paying way more than what that item probably cost to make, and knows it's 'lowkey' a waste of money 😭 but there's no price when it comes to baby girl's happiness, he'll do whatever it takes 🥰 the smile that forms on her face when she finally gets the plushie she wanted??? priceless and it's a memory they'll both hold onto forever - aaron takes full advantage of those type of memories 🥺
the bumper cars!!!!!!!!!!! the true highlight of the day 😭 aaron's with baby girl, you're with jack. hehe you peer over as aaron's sneakily whispering to her and eyeing the two of you👀, you know what he's scheming and tell jack the very same thing 🤭 "we gotta get dad and your sister". the laughs that erupt from both of them as they bump into each other 😭😭😭😭 it's contagious, you and aaron are equally as giddy and are loving every second of it 🥰 they even both insist on riding multiple times just to crash into each other LOL
and omg aaron's prepared and stacked for every scenario possible. extra clothes, shoes, socks are in the car (for each family member) for after the water rides. he packs dramamine, ibruprofen, bug spray. he also strategically plans out when to eat snacks or food - to prevent upset stomachs after eating and going on rides 🥴 he brings a tonnn of sunscreen and applies frequently. omg the four of you are pulled off to the side, drinking water and taking a break - you unscrew the top of a water bottle for jack, simply turn your head, and are met with aaron's hands on your face - applying sunscreen generously for you too 😭😭😭🫶🏻 he also brought hats for extra coverage - jack has a baseball cap, baby girl has a cute lil bucket hat 🥰
and AWWW the pictures 🥹🥹🥹 aaron's sure to get multiples too - one for the fridge, for baby girl's room (a pic of them on her bedside table 😭😭😭😭 especially useful when she misses him when he's gone on a case and she just wants her daddy🥺) and his office 😭<3333
as the four of you leave the amusement park when night falls, baby girl is absolutely zonked 😭 her face is smushed into aaron's neck, arms around his neck, maybe even drooling a bit, completely out. hehe so aaron veryyyy carefully places her into her carseat as to not wake her up 🥹 ugh she had the best day <333
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thexfridax · 2 days
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D.E.B.S. at 20: a Queer Cult Classic
Bessie Yuill Photo: Sundance/WireImage
There is a secret film hidden within the shadowy sapphic corners of Letterboxd. Some call it escapist trash, some call it an underrated cult classic, fools call it a male fantasy. It calls itself D.E.B.S. As other early-2000s chick flicks like Charlie’s Angels and St. Trinian’s have been reevaluated and embraced for their candy-floss aesthetics and campy wit over the years, the lesbian community was quietly reclaiming its own equivalent with 2004’s D.E.B.S.
The precursor to contemporary high-concept lesbian films like Bottoms, the spy flick is filled with something that queer female moviegoers still often yearn for: fun. That includes Jordana Brewster and her era-defying eyebrows as the impeccably named supervillain Lucy Diamond, John Woo–style fight scenes that parody the action genre in the same way as Charlie’s Angels, and a cheerfully cheap aesthetic where spies run around in plaid schoolgirl skirts.
D.E.B.S. was written, directed, and edited by filmmaker Angela Robinson. While “unapologetically queer” might be an overused phrase, it does apply neatly to Robinson. The Chicago-born director’s first project was a short film called Chickula: Teenage Vampire, calling on the long history of vampiric queer women that began with 1872’s Carmilla.
Her love of playing with genre led her to later put a lesbian spin on the movie musical by writing the underappreciated Girltrash: All Night Long and exploring polyamory in a period biopic about the creators of Wonder Woman, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women. On the small screen, she also burnished her lesbian credentials by working on several episodes of The L Word.
When D.E.B.S. started life as a short film, Robinson described it as “a story about a trio of superspies who are all chicks. I love all the comic-book characters: Charlie’s Angels, Batman, Josie & the Pussycats … But I always wanted them to be gay and they never were, so I wrote my own.” Success at Sundance led to Sony snatching the short up and deciding that D.E.B.S. should be a full-length feature.
Two decades later, the joy of this movie lies in the details. The tone is immediately set by a gravelly voice-over telling us that there is a secret test hidden within the SAT to recruit young female superspies (and establishing that, like Bottoms, this is a film aware of genre archetypes and willing to push believability). Our main character Amy (Sara Foster) is an academic overachiever — like many lesbians overcompensating for their perceived failure to live up to social norms. Her perfect score on the secret SAT test makes it even more scandalous when she falls for the aforementioned supervillain Lucy Diamond.
Queer friend groups may delight over the nostalgic frosty eye shadow and lip gloss worn by the D.E.B.S. (which stands for “discipline, energy, beauty, strength,” naturally) at all times. Flip phones, CGI holographic screens, and Goldfrapp’s appearance on the soundtrack will also remind you that you’re watching a film made in the early 2000s. And many will squeal when they spot Holland Taylor, over a decade before she came out, as the academy’s head.
Admittedly, the special effects are goofy enough to cross over into comedy, especially when our girls are abseiling into a restaurant or climbing walls with plungers, and the lighting could be charitably described as resembling teen soap operas of that era. But the chemistry between Amy and Lucy is crackling enough that YouTube compilations of their scenes have racked up hundreds of thousands of views online. Their fun enemies-to-lovers plotline begins with the pair pointing guns at each other and quickly progresses to a whirlwind romance (the other D.E.B.S. think Amy’s been kidnapped and launch a national manhunt, just as many friend groups have had to organize rescue missions for lesbians on weeklong first dates).
You could argue that espionage serves as a metaphor for the closet and that Amy is such an effective spy because she’s used to lying to herself about her sexuality. But that almost seems like too much weight to put on this meringue confection of a genre spoof: Its campiness liberates the characters to inhabit a fun, exaggerated universe with no serious homophobia or consequences. Guns are used, but the so-called superspies have such consistently terrible aim that there are no real casualties. And Lucy Diamond’s supposedly nefarious crimes are all reversible — the murders pinned on her are revealed to be misunderstandings, and she returns all of her stolen goods in order to win Amy back.
When this live-action Totally Spies with a lesbian twist debuted, it only made $97,000 and was dismissed by critics. But there were enough moviegoing gays impressed by its snappy dialogue, fun romance, and stunning supporting cast (including Meagan Good, Jimmi Simpson, and Devon Aoki with a French accent) for its reputation to grow online over time. In forums and YouTube comment sections, young girls were asking, “Are there any lesbian films where they just fall in love and have fun and don’t die at the end?” Their answer was D.E.B.S.
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pedrostylez · 17 hours
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I’m Here When You Need Me
Joel Miller x f!reader One Shot
Warnings:Angst, feelings, longing, cheating on the readers part, Joel just wants you to be happy, high key hating reader’s husband, age gap mentioned (Joel is in his 50’s, no reader age), insecurities, mentions of body and working out, insecurities, nipple and breast play, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex ( wrap it people), oral f recieving, I think that’s it
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: this has had minimal edits and I’m posting from my phone so don’t be judging me!!!! Heed the warnings. I hope you guys enjoy 😊
He’s at it again, dreaming of you wrapped around him. Soft to the touch, warm and needy, just how he likes you.
The telltale sound of his phone wakes him from the comfort of his dreams, vibrating through the pillow to his ear. When he squints his eyes to see your name on the screen, his heart freezes for a moment. You don’t typically call, so it must be important. “Hello?” He sounds groggy, and he hears your pause before a deep sigh. He knows you feel bad for calling him, even though you knew he would be asleep. “What is it, baby?”
“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, breath coming quickly through the receiver, the sound of your teeth biting at your nail.
“Are you alone?” He asks, now sitting up in bed. He’s used to a rogue text here and there, asking if he’s home so that you can slip out while your husband is asleep, or at work. He’s never texted you first, never been the initiator except for the once when he first spotted you in the bar. But a phone call in the middle of the night? Unheard of.
“Yeah.” You sigh, frustration clear in your voice.
He frowns, rubbing at his chin and shuffling out of bed. “Door’s open, baby.” It slips out, and he winces, figuring you’ll correct him again. He can’t help it.
You don’t say anything about the nickname, just give him a quiet goodbye and an ETA.
He doesn’t bother to remake the bed, doesn’t bother to clean up anything. He used to; used to make sure all the dishes were done and that the floor was swept for you. He was embarrassed, a 50 something year old man still living alone and had somehow gotten your attention. He wanted to leave a good impression.
But after enough times of you storming in, how you would grab around the collar of his shirt and thrust yourself at him to feel something, to distract you from whatever issues you were having with him, he stopped worrying.
A habit he shouldn’t get into, but he knew you would come around again and again.
Joel flicks on the outside light, looking out the curtain briefly before sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. He keeps the sound low, listening for the sound of your truck to pull up next to his. His pants are low, riding just below the elastic band of his underwear, loose and warm under the flannel.
He sighs, switching the channel and scratching at his incoming beard. He doesn’t know what mood you’ll be in, what you’ll want, but trying to wake himself up after a long day on the job is all he can do to prepare for you.
The sound of your door slamming has him turning his head, listening to your sneakers shuffle on his brick pathway. The pause at his door, where he swears he can hear you take a deep breath before twisting the knob and letting yourself in.
Your hair, swept to one side and down, loose, wild, has his mouth upturned out of habit. He loves you wild. “Hey.”
“What’s going on?” He asks quietly, letting you shut his front door and slip your sneakers off. He doesn’t dare move, afraid that he might scare you off by being too concerned. You’re in your own set of pajamas, loose shirt and flannel pants with a sweatshirt zipped in the front.
When you sit beside him, you lean into him with your head on his chest. One, two, three big breaths leave your mouth as he wraps an arm around you. It gives you the courage to say what you came here for. “I don’t think he loves me.”
Joel’s heart sinks, the sound of your voice defeated. His arm squeezes around you, looking down to the crown of your head. “No, baby that’s not true.” It slips out again, and he closes his eyes to try and recenter himself. Stop calling her baby.
“He won’t even look at me anymore.” You say again, tilting your head to look Joel in the eye. You’ve accepted it, eyes not shimmering with sadness. “He says he wants me but…never initiates. It’s like I’m begging just for an ounce of attention.”
Joel holds his face neutral, his blood boiling. He wants you, he would give you the attention you deserve. He knows that’s why you’re here, that’s why you called–
“I don’t think he finds me attractive anymore.” You whisper, an uncommitted shrug before you bury your head back against his chest.
Joel rubs his hand up and down your back, looking up toward the TV for a moment. Reruns of Seinfeld, laugh tracks and a bright screen fill his senses. He keeps quiet, keeping his hand moving to reassure you before he says, “I think the world of you.”
You shake under his arm with a brief chuckle, resting your hand on his stomach and swirling, swirling, swirling your finger around his belly button.
He resists sucking his stomach in, knowing you’ll chastise him like you have before. He wants to hold you, body against body to prove to you how much he wants you. “Do you want to go lay down with me?” He asks quietly, feeling your hair slide away from his arm as you pull away from him.
“Sure.” You reach for the remote, clicking off the screen and unzipping your sweatshirt. You turn to him, smirking as you step in the direction of his bedroom. “Just to sleep?”
“If that’s what you want.” Is his immediate answer. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come to his door just wanting to fall asleep on his chest; he wouldn’t mind it in the least, just to have you next to him.
But the way you smile, the way your eyes shimmer with want, he knows that isn’t what will be happening.
No, not when he turns off all the lights and heads to the bedroom and finds you already under the covers. Your quiet voice asking him to turn off the lights is new, but he obliges.
He fumbles to the bed, getting under the covers and hearing your giggle when you reach for his hand and place it on your breast. He laughs as well, swiping his thumb back and forth over your nipple until it is taunt, peaked against the pads of his fingers. He presses his mouth to your jaw, lightly pinching to hear your whimper against his ear.
He sighs happily, groaning when your fingers wrap around his cock through his pajamas. Your hands are warm, pressing heat into him in ways he misses when you’re gone. He lets his fingers drift down your side, counting your ribs quietly to himself. “Let me see you, baby?” He inquires, letting his lips run down the column of your throat, pressing deeply into the curve of your collarbone.
He feels your tension, the way you freeze for only an instant before going back to your loosened and easy going movements. “What? Don’t like surprises?” You question, squeezing your hand around the head of him briefly before pushing down his pants.
He springs free, your fingers lightly dancing down his shaft making him groan. He wants to tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t like surprises, but he wants to watch you. He looks down, blankets haphazardly in the way, only giving him a peek at what your hand is doing around him.
It feels like heaven, your hand with small calluses at the base of each finger. The smoothness of the rest, silky and enticing pumping up and down, your thumb swiping at the weeping hole to spread some of the wetness around.
He moves the sheet out of the way, letting his eyes trail to your chest before looking up at you as his tongue pokes out, circling the same nipple from before. Your mouth opens in awe, eyes fluttering shut and head thrown back. “J-Joel–”
“Let me see you.” He’s muffled against your skin, flicking his tongue against you and letting his fingers drift further and further down. Joel’s fingers brush over the hem of your underwear, and he can’t help the smile that grows on his face as you giggle. He knows it’s ticklish there, just as he dips his fingers into the humid skin beneath.
Your breath hitches, eyes opening more fully as he moves the blankets with his arm. He notices how you watch it, suddenly self conscious as your legs start to spread for him. “I’m cold, Joel.”
He pauses, letting only the knuckle of his first two fingers continue their movement under the strain of your underwear. You’re slick, his fingers easily moving over your clit with a laziness that he knows you like. You don’t want to be rushed-ever; it’s why you go to his place to begin with. “I’ll warm you up.”
“N-no.” You close your eyes, shaking your head as if falling out of this fantasy. “I want the blankets up here.”
Joel’s fingers pause now, head tilting up to you and frowning. He can see you more clearly now, his eyes having adjusted to the street lamps that filter through his curtains. You’re almost naked below him, frowning with your eyes downturned, looking toward his hand instead of his face. He brings his other hand up, tilting your chin to look directly at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”
You attempt at a scoff, but he’s not buying it. “I’m cold, I told you–”
“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He gruffs, frown going deeper as he sees you shake your head. “You know I like to see how you react, touch you, look at you. Why do you want to be covered?”
“I’ll just put my shirt back on.” You snarl, teeth coming out to bite as you lean over the side of the bed, reaching for the shirt you had tossed off before he followed you into the bedroom.
His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your arm back and holding you to the bed. Unable to roll, you wiggle under him, pulling your hand free to reach again. When he catches you again, you groan unhappily, getting into a pulling and pushing match with him.
He’s stronger than you, the creases in his forehead deepening as he let’s you get away enough times to tire you out, but not letting you escape his question. “Quit fightin’ me, and tell me what is going on.”
Your hands are secured to the pillows below you, breasts bouncing from the intensity of it and your deep breaths. He can’t help how his eyes trail down, wanting to look at you, but seeing you squirm uncomfortably.
You stay silent, glaring at him and then looking to the ceiling as if you’re just going to ignore the question. Joel sighs, annoyance bubbling up in him and trying to tamp it down. It clicks suddenly in his head, that something must have been said to you. “Why do you want to be covered?”
Your eyes trail back to his, your furrowed brow slowly relaxing, the tension in your arms reducing to where Joel releases his grip and lets his fingers trail down to hold your torso. His hands wrap around you, his thumbs stroking at the soft skin under each breast. He’s not sure if your eyes are shimmering with tears, or if it is just a trick in the light when you say, “He…he asked if I had been working out lately.” You swallow, shaking your head. “A-and when I said no, he…he said ‘that’s obvious.’”
Joel’s breath comes quickly, his fingers subconsciously digging into your skin to hold himself steady. He said what? He can’t help but stare at you, waiting for more to come, but you just stare back with a slow buildup of tears in your lash line.
Another moment of silence before you’re sniffling, bringing a hand up to cover your eyes as if embarrassed. Joel releases you as he feels your body shutter, pulling the blankets up around you both and moving his fingers to cradle your head. He lets his dull nails scratch at your scalp, shushing and cooing at you until you’re pressed against him, naked skin on skin in a humid cloud under his blankets.
He lets you cry; it’s the first he’s really ever seen you do so since meeting you. You’ve always been strong, secure and confident in how you present yourself. He found it off putting, in some ways-he had never been with a woman that didn't need him. He was used to being the provider. But you’d always taken care of yourself, came and went as you pleased, and didn’t ask for anything else.
His heart swells with want. “You’re alright baby, I’ve got you.” He husks, moving his fingers to the back of your neck and massaging at the tense muscles there. “He’s a fucking moron, you know that don’t you? You’re beautiful, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
You shake your head, tears having stopped and a small smile making its way across your face. “No I don't, Miller.”
“You do.” He relents, tilting his head down to look at you again. Red eyes and wet lashes, but otherwise okay. His thumb runs under your eyes, absorbing tears from your face almost instantly. “He shouldn’t be speaking to you that way.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. He’s right, it’s probably why our marriage isn’t going great.”
“That’s not true.” He says immediately, letting his thumb drift to your lower lip and pull it down briefly. “You think your marriage isn’t going well because he doesn’t find you attractive?”
“Among other things.” You sigh, now back to your previous demeanor. Your fingers are dancing over his chest, swirling his chest hair around. “Joel, it’s fine.”
“It’s not.” He argues. “You’re someone any decent man would want. How can he just–”
“Please just, let’s move on.” You cut him off, pressing a flat palm firmly into his chest.
He closes his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down from giving a full lecture. He wants you to understand, to hear him fully. You deserve better than what you have.
You both lay there silently for a moment, just breathing together and not moving. He keeps his eyes on yours, watching yours flick down to his mouth and feeling the way you minutely move towards him. He doesn’t dare move, wanting you to be the one that initiates.
Your hand is gentle against his lower stomach, gliding down again to his now softened cock. It stirs, easy to respond to you. Joel stops your hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” You’re breathy, pupils having gone wide as he lets go of your wrist. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again with how you move your hand, his mind both empty and racing with thoughts.
When you roll on to your back, offering a silent invitation for him to get on top, he’s eager to let his legs tangle with yours and settle between your thighs. He presses his mouth to your collarbone, trailing down below the blanket as you wished for before, his tongue peeking out when he gets to your core.
You sigh happily when his tongue meets your clit in slow, agonizing circles. He prefers to watch you when he does this, eyes up on your face as his tongue swoops back and forth, over and over the hood of your clit until you’re squirming and reaching down to fist at his hair. He likes watching your neck shine with a thin layer of sweat, the way your hair begins to stick to your face and your eyes closing tightly to just feel him.
But right now he’s below the covers, holding one leg down and open to better feast on his meal, the other reaching up and intertwining his fingers with yours. The hand not in his must be bracing yourself against his headboard, your moans muffled by the sheets and blankets surrounding him.
He lets his tongue dip into you, squeezed briefly by your walls and the yelp you let out makes him chuckle. You never expect the first intrusion, spreading your legs wider to let his shoulders be flat against you, his laugh vibrating against your skin.
He continues this pattern, dipping into you with his tongue, circling your clit, and back again. He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, over and over to the point that he’s closed his eyes to feel you instead of watching you. His cock is hard between his legs, pressing against the end of his mattress and begging to be touched by your hand.
There’s a gust of cool air as you lift the sheet away from him, tossing it to the cold side of the bed and reaching down to his hair. He groans again, missing the feeling of your hand on any part of him, and he winces at the tug you give.
You’re pulling him up, wanting his lips on yours and for him to cover you. He obliges, pressing his lips to yours and grabbing at your thighs to lift around his middle. It would be embarrassing, how hard he is for you right now, pressed to your center and grinding against the slick that he left there, but he can’t care right now.
You want him, and that’s his priority; keeping you wanting him.
“Taste so sweet, baby. You want a little?” He says gently against your lips, pressing into your again and letting his tongue sweep into your mouth. You moan, a high and breathy sound that he loves. “That’s right, you like that, don’t you?”
He waits for your nod of approval, how you lunge for his mouth again and happily kiss his lips and jaw as he adjusts his hips to better line himself up with your center. “Joel, please, get inside me already.”
“Impatient.” He mumbles, smirking at you and tilting his head to bite at your ear. He knows you’re ticklish there, wanting to hear your laugh another time before he fills you and loses all sense of himself inside you.
He feels you tilt your hips for him, letting your half-lidded eyes meet his. The head of his cock weeps, aching to be inside you. Joel moves himself to let his head rest against your waiting entrance, beginning the slow slide in.
He can’t stop the thoughts in his mind, racing around in circle. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Once fully seated inside, you both groan in unison, his arms strained to pull away just enough to look down to where you both are connected. “Fuck.” He bites out, looking back up to your face and letting one hand rest on your jaw. “You’re so fucking perfect around me.”
“Joel, move honey.” You whine, reaching out to his shoulders and pulling him back to you. Your nails dig into the taunt muscle, the feeling soothing him.
Honey.
You don’t call him that unless you’re in a different headspace–where you forget the circumstances of why you’re here. It was difficult early on for Joel to get you to relax, even though the act itself made you like putty in his hands. No, he focused on you mentally relaxing, truly forgetting your worries. When you were like this, he could say what he meant. “You’re so perfect baby.” He strains, thrusting into you at a slow and methodical pace. His hips press into the backs of your thighs, his fingers holding around your jaw tighter. “So fucking wet, you wanted this, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like this?”
You nod as he speeds up, the sound of your skin slapping against his now more prominent, the frame of the bed creaking quietly behind it. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He has to stop himself from saying it. The first time he had, he thought it would be the end of whatever the two of you had going. It had slipped out over six months ago, on your way out the door after riding him on the couch.
“I love you.” He had said quietly, watching you redress after climbing off of him.
You turned to him, a half smile on your face. “No, you don’t.” You said simply, waving at him and going on your way. He didn’t expect you to call him after that, and was shocked when just the next night you were on his doorstep waiting for him after work.
And now you’re below him, and just as every time before after that first admission, he wants to say it again. You’re crying out, asking him to come instead of announcing you’re going to, and he speeds up his movements. “You wanna finish around my cock?” He asks, his voice unrecognizable. “I’ll let you, go ahead baby. Let me see it.”
You nod, tears brimming your eyes again for a different reason than before. He feels you tighten in waves around him, sucking him in further as he tries to hold himself back. Joel continues to pump his hips, his lower back tingling with his own release ready.
“J-Joel–” you moan, digging your nails deeper into his shoulder. “Come inside me, pl-please.”
He grunts, forgetting himself and pushing forward with a whine he’s never heard leave his mouth. His eyes close as his come coats your walls, warm and welcoming of it. Joel rests his forehead against yours, sweaty skin pressed to sweaty skin, smiling down at you and breathing heavily. “Fuck baby–”
“Don’t call me that, honey.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut and an award winning smile spreading across your face.
He pulls out, wincing at how tight you are around him still, resting on his side and letting his arm wrap around your middle. “Stay?” He asks quietly, watching you turn your head and opening your eyes to look at him.
You think for a moment. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll decide.”
He grunts in disapproval, letting you slip out of his grasp and step into the ensuite bathroom. The light blinds him briefly, your ass the only thing he can see as you lean over the sink to get a closer look in the mirror. Joel props his head up, watching as you push up on the balls of your feet to get closer, your arms coming out to the door frame and leaning over to look at him. “Do you have wipes?”
He had bought some after the first few times of you being there, asking every time if he had any. He had got you to say what brand they were, and he kept them stocked now. “First drawer on the right.”
You hum happily, pulling out a face wipe and turning back to him, watching him as you scrub at your forehead and cheeks. “Did you want to clean up?”
He shakes his head. “Want to keep you on me, if you don’t mind?”
You smirk, rolling your eyes as if you don’t care. When you finish, you flick the light off and walk toward the bed, Joel blinded briefly from the change in light. “Where’d you go, baby?”
“I’m here.” You whisper, shifting the bed as you climb in and pull the covers from the other side to cover you both. You’re still naked, now cooled skin against him. “I’ll stay, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He whispers back, smiling to himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, enjoying how you snuggle into his body and neck, fitting perfectly with him. “I’d let you stay as long as you want. You know that.”
You sigh, circling your fingers against his chest hair. “What if…” you trail off, fear taking hold of your voice in a way that makes Joel uncomfortable. He squeezes an arm around you, waiting. “What if I’m too scared to have things change?” You whisper, tensing in his arms.
Joel remains relaxed, his mind swimming with I love you, I love you, let me love you. He sighs, pressing another kiss to your head. “I’m here for when you need me, if you want me.” He says quietly, feeling you relax in his arms again.
Your eyelashes flutter against his skin, your breath slowing down and becoming deeper. As you fall asleep, Joel swallows harshly. He’s here when you need him, and it was never going to change.
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kanmom51 · 1 day
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Genuine question, what do you think of "my eyes are always on you" to jk from Tae?
Also this clip? https://www.instagram.com/reel/C48mJt1NdYR/?igsh=YjF6czZsdWltN3dp
Why jk is being cheesy here? 😭
Babe, you're not serious, are you?
Right?
Cause if this edited clip from ITS2 is absolutely NOTHING. No translation. Only a caption that has nothing to do with whatever it was that was going on there. Have you watched the episode? The full episode? The full show, as in all episodes and behinds? This is the same show with a whole passive aggressive JK-Tae interaction over Tae basically pulling his hyung card for JK to cook him breakfast. Also, btw, JK being cheesy? Really?
If you want to see true interactions, real interactions, please stay clear of edits. TikTok or YT or X or whatever the source is. First and most important is to watch the ORIGINAL CONTENT!!! After you have done that, seen the actual interactions, their context in which it all happens, then you can enjoy the edits knowing which is real, which is false, in which moments are amplified beyond the actual interaction with a 'good' edit or slow motion or soundtrack.
JK and Tae are bandmates and friends. They like each other and even love each other -
as bandmates, friends
and two young men that kinda grew up together (together with the others). And as two people that are close friends they sometimes fool around (not in a sexual or romantically emotional manner), like friends do. With a banter or tease or having a laugh. Like you would tease a good friend. Like you would laugh around and play around with a good friend. They might say things, and this most of the time comes from Tae saying things, that are flirty (he loooooves to be flirty with every single one of them). I mean, telling JM "I like you most" (ehm... with his bf sitting right there with them, and the others too lol, only to have JM all flustered and looking to JK for a reaction) doesn't make them lovers nor boyfriends nor dating. It makes him a flirt and someone that loves to fluster the others. And you know what? JK's a flirt too. He will flirt incessantly with JM. He flirts with ARMY when he's in a playful mood. Even with other members sometimes.
But here's the thing.
The reason Jikookers SEE Jikook as different is because of a decade of suspicious and special interactions from them. Looks, touches, almost touches, refraining from touches. Things they do to each other. Things they do for each other. Things they say to each other. Things they say about each other. Things they choose to do together that NO OTHER MEMBER did or does, including being the first ever idols to enlist TOGETHER (choosing to be together and spend the entirety of their military service TOGETHER).
You can find a shit ton of them through my masterlist.
Not a one-of interaction or statement or look.
And all of those moments, their nature, their amount, their consistency, the fact that even when not in a frame together they manage to show us how they feel for each other, the other's importance to them.
That's what creates that huge picture. Like pieces in a puzzle, if you want.
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And that there, my friend, is but a drop in the ocean...
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soursturniolo · 3 days
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Hurtful Words • Nick Sturniolo
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Synopsis: Nick and his boyfriend get into a fight the night before leaving for Boston. After some of the harsh words from Nick, his boyfriend is left hurt and uncertain of his place in his boyfriends life.
Pairing: Nick x male reader/character (no y/n but also no other name used, he/him pronouns)
Tags: angst, hurt, a bit of sunshine!reader x grumpy!nick, nick has a panic attack, comfort (happy ending because I guess I'm not 100% evil yet)
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Nick had been extremely stressed all day. Nothing was going right, first he woke up late and missed his meeting. Then, he went to edit a video they had prefilmed to post while him, his brothers, and his boyfriend would be in Boston, just to discover the SD card was corrupted and nothing could be salvaged from it. Next, he developed a horrible headache as he was rushing to finish up packing for the flight tomorrow morning. Now, he was getting ready to film a replacement video with his brothers right as his cheerful boyfriend strode into his bedroom. Fuck , Nick thought to himself. He had forgotten his boyfriend was coming this early.
“Hey!” his boyfriend smiled as he made his way over to him, arms open for the usual hug they’d share. Most always, his boyfriends sunny disposition made him smile, but today it just made him irrationally angry.
“Hi,” Nick responds flatly, not meeting his partners eyes as he dodged the hug and affection being offered. If Nick had been looking up he would have seen the look of confusion and concern flash across the other man’s face as his arms lowered to the side upon seeing that Nick clearly didn’t want a hug.
The other man frowns as he takes in Nick’s disheveled appearance, hair sticking up from most likely stressful tugging, a clenched jaw and tense shoulders. Knowing Nick for almost a year now, he knows his boyfriend isn’t one to immediately talk out his feelings, so he doesn’t ask but quickly concludes it must have been quite a rough day for the brunette. Usually in these situations, they’ll cuddle and relax and watch some stupid TV show, so that’s what the man suggests. To which, Nick scoffs.
“I don’t have time to just lay around with you, I need to go do my job, I have so much shit I need to do before tomorrow,” Nick gripes, moving around to grab the camera and SD cards off his desk, stuffing them into a bag to take to the car where he’s sure his brothers are already waiting for him. In packing he’d lost track of time, looking at his phone to see its already 17 minutes past the time they said they’d meet in the garage.
His boyfriend nods in understanding, seeing the obvious stress practically pouring out of every pore of his boyfriend. He reaches out a hand, gently touching Nick’s arm, trying his best to sooth him.
“is there anything I can do to help?” he asks softly.
“Jesus Christ!” Nick exclaims, feeling overwhelmed by everything all at once, like his skin is on fire and every little thing makes his head pound even harder, yaking his arm away from the other man’s touch “yknow what actually, there is. Just leave me the fuck alone for two seconds!”
The man frowns slightly, taking a step back at Nick’s sudden outburst, wrapping his own arms around him, head cooking to the side minutely.
“we’ve been apart all day? I’m just trying to help, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says softly, trying to give him a soft smile, which just makes Nick scoff and roll his eyes again. A deep frown paints his boyfriends face at the reaction, the man tightening his arms around himself, shoulders hunching in slightly.
“And you come in here all fucking smiles and hugs. you’re just happy all the fucking time. Just this fucking ray of sunshine. Some of us fucking aren’t. Maybe this just wasn’t a good idea.” Nick spits out, his words venom. Part of his brain is yelling at him to shut up seeing the hurt look spreading over his boyfriends face, but the angry voice overshadows that one, just wanting everyone to feel has horrible as he feels.
“What? What isn’t a good idea?” the man asks him, voice small, fearing the answer. Did Nick mean him coming to Boston along with his brothers to finally meet his parents? While he had been nervous about meeting his boyfriends parents at first, in the past few days he had become quite excited. Thinking of meeting his family, his family dog too. He had bought gifts for them all, even a chew toy for Trevor. Even today, the young man had found himself daydreaming at work, thinking of how well it all might go, imagining them all sitting around a table looking at photo albums and smiling as he learns more about the past of the man he so desperately wants a future with.
Nicks quick response has those hopes shattering, along with his heart.
“This. Us. I don’t know. I just need to fucking breathe. I’m leaving to film with Chris and Matt. Bye.” Nick half yells, voice strained as he stalks his way to the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut as he leaves, leaving a tearful man standing in the middle of the room wondering where it all went so wrong.
Nick was distracted the whole entire time they were filming, overcome with guilt and regret. He had been so harsh to his boyfriend, his number one supporter, next to his family of course. Flashes of the other man’s hurt face flicker in his mind, the timid and soft nature he had taken on as Nick raged at him, a shadow of the mans usually bright and bubbly demeanor. Even when he was short with him at first, instead of just leaving, his sweet boyfriend had still apologized and compassionately offered help. And what did Nick do to show his appreciation? Told him callously that maybe them dating had been a bad idea.
That wasn’t true in the slightest. They’d been together 7 months at this point, and it had been some of the happiest months of Nick’s life. He’d experienced a happiness that he never thought he’d get even remotely close to again, and this was how he repaid the man? Throwing his cheerful and sweet nature in his face as if it was something to be ashamed of? It made him sick to his stomach to recall how he’d behaved.
Noticing their brothers distraction, Matt and Chris suggested cutting the video short, under the guise of wanting to get on good nights sleep before their early flight home. The drive home was quick and quiet as Nick thought of all the ways he’d apologize to his sweet boyfriend who had a heart almost too good to be true.
The brothers quickly said goodnight and parted ways, Nick taking the stairs two at a time to get to his room so he could ask for the man’s forgiveness. Upon opening the door, he’s met with disappointment. He had left. Nick knew he shouldn’t be surprised though. As he pulls out his phone to call the man he knew he had hurt, a bag on his bed catches his eye, along with a note. He peaks in the bag, confused upon seeing four boxes wrapped in a plain purple wrapping paper, as he picks up the letter, recognizing the handwriting and feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest as he begins to read.
Nick,
I’m sorry, I never meant to upset you. I know I can be a lot, and I understand if it’s gotten too much to deal with. I was really looking forward to seeing Boston and meeting your family. But it’d be silly for me to tag along now, at this point. I had gotten some things for your parents, Justin, and Trevor. I was hoping you’d maybe give them to them for me?
Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for my plane ticket if it’s too late to cancel it.
Thank you for the last 7 months, they meant the world to me. You did, too.
Nick feels tears gather in his eyes, beginning to stream down his face as he sits the letter down and quickly scrolls to his contact on his phone.
"please, pick up, pick up, pick up" he mutters, sniffling as he waits and hopes he'll answer. A shred of hope blooms upon hearing his call answered answer, the soft noise of a car engine in the back. Good, maybe his boyfriend hadn't made it home yet.
"baby?" Nick sniffles slightly, voice cracking. He hears the man on the other end of the line sniffle too, and he feels his heart crack a little more. he'd made his sweetheart cry.
"what do you need, nick?" the other man asks softly and tearfully.
"I need you. please turn around, I know you’re still in the car. I'm so sorry," Nick pleads.
"it's okay Nick," he sniffles, "just give those gifts to them, please?" he asks.
"no, I'm not," Nick cries, tears streaming down his face, one hand clutching his hair as the other clutches his phone against his ear, sagging against the wall and sliding down it into a heap on the floor, his chest feeling tighter and tighter.
"okay, I'll get them back from you when you guys get back home," he offers, which just makes Nick cry harder. He really fucked up this time.
"no, no you're supposed to give them to them, I want you to, I want you to turn around and come back here so I can tell you how fucking sorry I am and kiss you and watch a stupid movie with you and then we get up and we go to Boston tomorrow morning and you get to meet my family and see where I'm from and everything and they'll love you and your little gifts and your smile that can light up a room and they'll love you because I love you," he pleads over the phone, desolving into sobs on the phone.
the other man on the line tears up again at the sweet words and obvious remorse, and he wants to respond to them but Nick is spiraling in regret and sadness and he can hear that it's getting harder for him to breathe through his cries.
he turns the car around, beginning to take a shortcut back to the triplets house.
"Nick, I need you to breathe," the man says softly, hearing the loud cries through the speakers of his car.
"No, I'm not Nick, you never call me nick when we're alone, its always Nicky or sweetheart or babe," the brunette sobs, still feeling like his relationship is slipping through his fingers, and it's his own fault.
The man grips his steering wheel a little tighter, driving a little faster.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I just need you to breathe for me, in your nose and out your mouth real slow for me okay? you know that box breathing technique I showed matt a few months ago?" he softly asks Nick.
"Yeah," Nick sniffles, breathing still shaking and disordered.
"Good baby, I'm going to count and I want you to breathe with me okay? I'm almost there but I need you to breathe for me until I get there, okay?" He asks softly.
As he continues to drive, he counts off and listens as Nick breathes with him, slight sniffles still present as he tries to focus on getting his breathing regulated with the knowledge that his boyfriend is coming back.
Nick doesn't even register the sound of his boyfriends car turning off or the sound of him using his house key to get in. his head jerks up to look up from his spot on the floor to see his boyfriend standing in his doorway. He quickly moves from his position on the floor, getting up and launching himself into his boyfriends arms.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean a fucking word I said," he sobs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend tightly and burrowing his head into his neck, his tears wetting the skin. His boyfriend holds him just as snuggly in his arms, rubbing a soothing hand over his back as the other hand cups the back of his head softly.
"I know, its alright," the man sooths, but the words have an opposite affect on Nick, as the brunette pulls back quickly as he shakes his head.
"It's not alright! I was mean because I had a bad day and my head fucking hurts, and I hurt you. You didn't deserve that. I love you, and I love your personality and how loving and happy you are. It isnt something I or anyone should throw in your face. I should have talked to you, I should have thanked you for wanting to help me. I'm so sorry, ill be better, I'll get better at talking to you and communicating and not just blowing up at you for no reason," Nick sniffles, roughly wiping away his own tears.
"Okay, I forgive you," the other man offers softly, as he gently pulls Nick's hands away from the rough rubbing of his face.
"No! You shouldn't just forgive me, why are you being so nice right now?" Nick objects, confused by his boyfriends behavior as more tears make their way down his face.
The other man smiles softly and sadly, guiding his boyfriend over to the bed and sitting, pulling Nick down to sit right next to him. He gently guides Nicks head to rest on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around the man in a comforting embrace that Nick easily allows himself to be pulled into, the closeness easing the pain and regret in his heart.
"Let me ask you a couple things, okay? Maybe that'll help you understand why I'm forgiving you?" he offers, carding his fingers though Nick's hair softly, as he feels Nick nod and whisper is consent into his shoulder.
"Do you genuinely regret how you treated me?" A quick and firm nod from Nick.
"Do you see how hurtful your misplaced irritation can be?" Another firm nod and squeeze from Nick's arms around him is felt.
"Do you genuinely plan on working on communicating with me and being better in the future so this doesn't happen again?" Another nod and squeeze.
"Do you still love me and want to be with me, and want me to come to Boston with you?" This receives the fastest nod and squeeze of all the questions, making the man smile and turn to press a soft kiss to Nick's head.
"See. You acknowledged and took ownership of what you did wrong, you plan to work on being better, and I know you're genuinely sorry and regret hurting me the way you did. I trust you, so I trust what you say and the fact that this will not happen again. We will deal better the next time," he explains softly to the man in his arms.
"Okay. I promise I'll do better, I love you," Nick hoarsely whispers against his shoulder, cuddling more into the other man's side.
"I know, I love you too," Nick smiles wobbly as he hears those words and feels another kiss pressed against his head. He leans up, softly pressing his lips against the man's jaw, then his cheek, then thr corner of his mouth, smiling when we feels the skin move under his lips into a matching smile. Then, Nick presses their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss, trying to convey all the love and warmth he feels for the man in his embrace. His own ray of sunshine.
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author's note: hey! i hope yall enjoyed! if you have any nick requests feel free to send em my way! im slowly but surely getting back into writing and i really want to write more for nick :)
no tag list on this post because I'm getting ready to redo my old tag list since most either aren't active anymore or have new usernames
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slashv1xen · 3 days
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pov: bo sees you playing the piano for the first time (gn!reader + fluff)
a/n: i play piano and i just wanted a fic for myself lol (NOT PROOF READ / EDITED)
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you tiptoed down the steps, making sure not to wake anyone up. it was in the middle of the night, and you were struggling to sleep. you had a habit of doing something to tire you out whenever this happened, and tonight you felt like playing the piano.
since you’ve been here, no one had heard you play. you admit, you have played in longer than you would like, but why not play now?
you opened the dusty piano lid and all your memories of how to play flooded back. you smiled to yourself and began playing ‘swan lake - tchaikovsky’ as softly as possible. as you played, you no longer felt tired. you forgot about even needing sleep, or the world. your mind was revolved around playing this piece, and to just enjoy yourself.
meanwhile, bo did feel you leave the bed initially, but he assumed you were going to the bathroom. after a while passed, he began getting fidgety, wondering where you were. that question was answered when he heard a piano downstairs. he was half-asleep, so he wasn’t entirely sure if he was dreaming or not, but he was up now and he figured it would be worth checking out.
he walked quietly down the stairs and found you, playing the piano elegantly. when bo saw this, he just froze. he stared at you starry-eyed with pure admiration, like how a child stares.
he thought this sight of you was so attractive, he literally held his breath. when you finished playing, he spoke up, in a small voice.
“that was beautiful.”
when you heard him, you jumped a little. you turned around slowly and saw bo walking towards you with a grin on his face. your cheeks burned, you felt embarrassed. “how long have you been standing there?”
“long enough.” he stood over you and went down onto his knees. he rubbed your thighs affectionately and kissed them lightly. “you should play more. i love hearing the piano.”
your fingers ran through his hair as he continued caressing your legs. “really?”
he nodded and looked up into your eyes with a look of admiration. “i’d do anything to hear you play again.” he got up and kissed your forehead, sitting down on the seat next to you.
he grabbed a very old book of sheet music that was on the piano and flipped to a page. he pointed to a song and turned to you, grabbing your attention.
“teach me.”
and for the rest of the night, neither of you slept. and from here on now, the house was always filled with beautiful music, from either one of you two playing solo, or the two of you duetting together.
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hsgwrld · 2 days
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BODY BAG - JAKE
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-inspired by body bag - Chloe Moriondo
Pairing - classmate!jake x gn!reader
Genre - fluff,FLUFF!
word count -643
This is a revamp of the drabble I had on my previous account, to be honest,,idk why I even felt the urge to re-write it LMAO!! Can contain grammar mistakes! I was lazy to edit it fully.
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That's it. You despised Shim Jake with every fiber of your being. The one-sided hatred towards him was nothing new. Ever since first grade, you harbored a dislike for him. It wasn't just about his grades, which always seemed to outshine yours, but also the way he looked at you, causing your heart to flutter uncomfortably. You detested that feeling intensely. Stupid Jake, for eliciting such emotions within you. He shouldn't have been your seatmate or even your classmate in the first place. On the first day of school, the teacher assigned him to sit next to you, and he hadn't changed seats all the way through high school. His way of speaking, smiling, and his sweet, bubbly personality only fueled your anger, exacerbating those irritating feelings.
And then there was Jake again. Did he leave a love letter in your backpack? Indeed, he did. Did you expect him to confess his feelings? Not at all. He was just a classmate, nothing more. But deep down, you felt yourself melting and screaming. Yet, the letter was written so beautifully that your heart skipped a beat each time you reread those words for the hundredth time. You kept it in your diary, rereading it as time passed.
"I have always liked you! Even though you've threatened to punch me in the face multiple times, I still like you." In disbelief, you looked at him, blinking five times. Did he really say that? Did he make you stop in the middle of the sidewalk and face him? After a while, was he following you? Sure, he did. Stupid Jake with his nice voice. It seriously made you want to punch him, yet at the same time, hug him tightly and squeeze the life out of him for being so cute.
"I like you too, Jake, but I still want to punch you." Jake's lips formed a smile, the kind you loved to see so often.
Jake had developed a new habit of taking your hand in his and playing with your fingers. Even now, as you both watched a movie at his house, you struggled to focus on the screen. You wanted to punch him for distracting you, but those stupid feelings intervened. The heat in your face didn't help; it only made you more flustered. Always blushing and stuttering when talking to him. Even though you'd been together for months now, he still made your heart pound loudly. As his lips drew closer to your face, you felt yourself slowly drifting away from reality. He left a small kiss on your cheek, a giggle escaping his lips as he observed your flustered state. It wasn't new to him to see you react that way, but he loved teasing you about it.
Your heart melted once again. Jake took you out to watch fireworks together by the river. He hugged you from behind with his head on your shoulder and his hands around your waist. The night breeze brushed against your face. It was a lovely feeling, despite the occasional squabbles between you two. He was your little sunshine, secretly brightening your days.
"I swear, Jake, I will punch you," you threatened, only for him to burst into laughter. The whipped cream on your face made you look too comical, and he couldn't take you seriously.
Jake convinced you to do a TikTok trend with him. At first, you thought it would be fun, but with whipped cream smeared all over your face, glaring at Jake said otherwise.
"Wow, you're so scary," he laughed, pulling out his phone to take a picture of you.
"Funny, very funny, Jake," you said while heading to the bathroom to clean your face. Even as you walked away, you could still hear Jake giggling from the living room, making you smile once again, all because of your stupid Jake.
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annamcdonalds67 · 6 hours
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Challenge for the writers 2024
hello, to all the sturniolo fandom writers
I've made a little challenge for you guys that I would like you to participate in
I'm going to write down a bunch of songs down below and I need you to write down a one shot inspired by that song.
This is obviously optional for everyone if you don't want to do this then no problem!
I will edit this post whenever someone has posted a one shot inspired by the song so no one gets blamed for copying
You guys have no limits. I will choose one winner for each category and two runner ups as well
If you see any songs that are like this it means they're taken
The challenge will end at 10th April, and the winners will be revealed a couple days later
Category's
Smut
Fluff
Angst
Lemon
Lime
AU
Smut-Fluff
Angst- Smut
Fluff-Angst
Rules:
Choose a song
DM me what song you have picked
Tag me in your post
Specify which category you're participating in
And have fun!
Songs:
"Slut!"- Taylor Swift
Make You Mine- Maddison Beer
Golden Hour- JVKE
Better Than Revenge- Taylor Swift
Back To December- Taylor Swift
Is it Over Now- Taylor Swift
Low- SZA
Playing Dangerous- Lana Del Rey
Get Him Back!- Olivia Rodrigo
Labour- Paris Paloma
Bloodline- Ariana Grande
So It Goes...- Taylor Swift
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince- Taylor Swift
Should've said no- Taylor Swift
The Great War- Taylor Swift
Willow- Taylor Swift
Lavender Haze- Taylor Swift
Labyrinth- Taylor Swift
Cupid- FIFTY-FIFTY and Sabrina Carpenter
Our Song- Taylor Swift
Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter
Feather- Sabrina Carpenter
The Heart Wants What It Wants- Selena Gomez
Shake It Off- Taylor Swift
I Knew You Were Trouble- Taylor Swift
Red- Taylor Swift
West Coast- Lana Del Rey
22- Taylor Swift
Bejeweled- Taylor Swift
The Man- Taylor Swift
Style- Taylor Swift
Blank Space- Taylor Swift
Wonderland- Taylor Swift
Wildest Dreams- Taylor Swift
Bad Blood- Taylor Swift
Vigilante Shit- Taylor Swift
Strangers- Kenya Grace
Delicate- Taylor Swift
End Game- Taylor Swift
I Did Something Bad- Taylor Swift
Paper Rings- Taylor Swift
Anti-Hero- Taylor Swift
Bad Idea Right?- Olivia Rodrigo
Enchanted- Taylor Swift
Gorgeous- Taylor Swift
Speak Now- Taylor Swift
Bubble Pop Electric- Gwen Stefani
Cardigan- Taylor Swift
Dress- Taylor Swift
Lover- Taylor Swift
Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift
Earned it- The Weeknd
...Ready For It?- Taylor Swift
Superman- Eminem
Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High- Arctic Monkeys
Daddy Issues- The Neighbourhood, Syd
Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift
Don't Blame Me- Taylor Swift
Video Games- Lana Del Rey
Salvatore- Lana Del Rey
Million Dollar Man- Lana Del Rey
Art Deco- Lana Del Rey
Radio- Lana Del Rey
Sad Girl- Lana Del Rey
Vampire- Olivia Rodrigo
Everybody Wants To Rule The World- Tears For Fears
National Anthem- Lana Del Rey
Summertime Sadness- Lana Del Rey
Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood
I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together- Taylor Swift
Karma- Taylor Swift
Because I Liked A Boy- Sabrina Carpenter
Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Rey
Boyfriend- Dove Cameron
Older- Isabel LaRosa
I'm Yours- Isabel LaRosa
Eyes Don't Lie- Isabel LaRosa
HEARTBEAT- Isabel LaRosa
all-american bitch- Olivia Rodrigo
People You Know- Selena Gomez
Can't Catch Me Now- Olivia Rodrigo
You Belong With Me- Taylor Swift
Iconique- EMELINE
American Horror Show- SNOW WIFE
Reckless- Madison Beer
CARNIVAL- Kanye West, Playboi Carti, Rich The Kid, etc.
Water- Tyla
Exes- Tate McRae
Agora Hills- Doja Cat
Barbie World- Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice
Moonlight- Kali Uchis
Houdini- Dua Lipa
Slumber Party- Ashnikko, Princess Nokia
Greedy- Tate McRae
Obsessed- Olivia Rodrigo
Softcore- The Neighbourhood
Freaks- Surf Curse
Twin Size Mattress- The Front Bottoms
Me and My Husband- Mitski
Always Forever- Cults
Yes, and?- Ariana Grande
Super Freaky Girl- Nicki Minaj
American Jesus- Nessa Barrett
That's my Girl- Fifth Harmony
2002- Anne-Marie
One of The Girls- The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lili-Rose Depp
@hearts4chriss @evieolo @evie-sturns @flynnriderishot @hysteria-things @breeloveschris @lovingmattysposts @sugrhigh @meg-sturniolo @hoesformatt @vanteguccir @freshloveforthefit @gamermattsgf @b2cute @freshloverr @worldlxvlys @sophssturn @matts-k1tten @sukiipjs @rootbeerworshiper @teapartyprincess4two @muwapsturniolo @freshloveee @chris-slut @fake-sturniolos @solarsturniolo @sturnmaee
SPREAD THIS TOO AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE
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mattsturnioloz · 3 days
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Your bleeding
pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: y/n was making dinner for her boyfriend matt. and of course, his two brothers, nick and chris. but what happens when she cuts herself on accident and doesn't notice until matt points it out.
warnings: blood. that's it
a/n: please bare with me as im new to this writing scheme. if it's bad or not good, please let me know, and i will do better. this is also rly short bc i have no ideas.
It was a Thursday night in the Sturniolo household. Nick, who is sitting on the couch editing Friday's new video, Chris drinking Pepsi as always, Matt sitting in the kitchen on his phone talking with his girlfriend y/n who was making dinner for them. Chris decided to go into the kitchen to see what his sister-in-law was making. "What's for dinner, I am starving." Y/n looked at him and grinned."Pasta, but not just any kind of pasta. It's my grandma's secret recipe. " She smiled at her boyfriend, who is now standing next to her. Matt kissed her forehead. "It smells amazing, baby." She smiles. "Can one of you stir the pasta? I need to cut up the tomatoes." Chris nods and stirs the noodles. Matt watches his girlfriend in awe as she cuts the tomatoes. "Hey, I was thinking. What if we go out on a date this weekend? We haven't done that in a while, " Y/n looks up, still cutting and raises her eyebrows. "A date huh, what kind of date are you thinking?" Matt chuckles. "Oh, I don't know, dinner? A movie, maybe get ice cream afterward." He looks down and sees blood. "Babe!" Y/n looks confused as she doesn't feel any pain,"Matt? What's the matter? Looks like you've seen a ghost, " Matt calls for Nick,"Nick! Nick, we need gauze and a lot of it!". Nick jumps up and runs to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he comes out with gauze, paper towels, and bandaids. "Here." Y/n then realized she had cut herself, looking down at the blood. "Oh my god. Oh my god." Matt."You're bleeding! Here, let's wash it with warm water." Chris looks sick as he has a weak stomach, and then passes faints, and Nick is cleaning up the mess.
After Y/n is bandaged up, they sit down and eat. She looks down at her finger or where the tip of her finger once was. "Man, I never thought I would slice the tip of my finger off." She says as she takes a bite of her food and looks at her finger. Chris looks at her. "Please don't talk about that. While I am eating. I already passed out, and I don't want to do it again." Nick slaps him across the back of his head. "He's joking. I'm glad you're ok."
Matt looks at his girlfriend and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, thankfully it wasn't worse." She smiles, thankful of her family around her.
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str4wberriesforyou · 16 hours
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quality time
hamzahthefantastic x reader
check out ‘the five love languages’ series here 🍓
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• He’s always dragging you alongside him to some local coffee shop or the library, where he can edit and get your opinion on his newest video. Not that he actually ends up getting anything done, though.
You’ve found a quiet, unoccupied corner of the library so you set down your things at the table as Hamzah begins to unpack his.
“I’m gonna get a snack from the vending machine,” he stands behind you, big hand finding your waist as he makes his way around you. “You want anything?”
You tilt your head in deep thought, before a smile creeps onto your face.
“Peanut M&Ms.” You both say in unison.
You lightly smack his chest, which is admittedly sturdier than you expected under his soft tee, with the back of your hand and laugh out a quiet, “you’re annoying.”
His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him so that he can lay his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. His other hand meets your cheek, holding you steady. He pulls back, swiping his thumb over your jaw before pulling away.
“No, I’m a good boyfriend.” He winks as he backs away from you, snapping his pointer fingers at you cornily.
Good lord. You think to yourself, watching him walk away.
He returns with your M&M’s, throwing them to you. They hit the table with a smack, and your fingers immediately work to rip open the package. Hamzah plops into the chair next to you, reaching for your M&M’s.
Your jaw drops at him. Who the hell does he think he is?
“What? It’s boyfriend tax.” He grins lopsidedly at you and tosses the candy into his mouth.
“Okay, where’s my girlfriend tax?”
He laughs, covering his mouth so that he won’t spit chocolate everywhere. “Are you kidding? You don’t get girlfriend tax. I already give you everything so there’s nothing more to even take.”
It’s contagious, and before you know it you’re bickering back and forth, causing more of a scene in the library than you realize.
An older woman approaches you, presumably library staff, with a stern frown tugging at her red lips. “If you two cannot respect the atmosphere of this shared space, we will have to ask you to leave.”
Hamzah swallows before responding. “Sorry, we’re sorry. We’ll be quiet.”
She walks away, leaving you to smile awkwardly at one another.
“Whoops.”
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unsanctioned-if · 1 day
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Update 27/3 - 2024
Hello everyone!
Sorry that this update comes a little bit late; I've been pretty busy with real life obligations these past few days.
I'm still working on the three backgrounds for the prologue. I've finished the first draft of the Aristocrat background along with half of the first draft of the Nomad background. I've also started on the Scavenger background, though it'll likely be finished last.
The first draft of the Aristocrat background ended up longer than I expected, so I'm working on making sure that the other two backgrounds remain more or less around the same word count without feeling too rushed or dragged out.
Since I don't want to rush out the demo, I'll refrain from putting an estimate on its release, but it's unlikely it'll be released at the end of April like I last predicted due to the added content of the backstories. Progress is still going smoothly however, and I reached 100k words this month which I'm really happy about!
By next month's update I should have the first drafts of all the backgrounds finished and also hopefully have started editing the content for the upcoming demo.
Thank you as always for your patience, support and interest in this project <3
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gralto · 2 days
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Body language - Schneesh edition
A pat on the back
A pat on the back shows commendation, sympathy, an expression of pride, or an act of comfort.
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A hug
A greeting, a request for intimacy, or a gesture that denotes comfort. This can be between two people that are really close, or even a greeting between strangers.
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(x)
Squeezing hug
A tight hug shows a need for closeness, need for intimacy, anxiety, a request for protection, and comfort.
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Arm over the shoulder
Protectiveness, affection, need for closeness. This type of touch is often sweet and loving.
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Arm around the waist
Protectiveness, affection, familiarity. A little bit lower than the waist, and this physical touch is sexual and flirtatious.
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Both hands on shoulders
Persistence and wanting to convince someone. With shaking, it alludes to anger.
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(x)
Cheek to cheek
A sign of intimacy. The closeness with this type of touch is usually romantic or caring.
AND
Hands on neck
Protectiveness, wishing to increase intimacy and trying to express comfort.
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Touching your hair
Expressing familiarity or a need to be closer. You only use this type of touch if you are comfortable with someone. It can be relaxing and soothing.
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(x)
Resting head or face on shoulders
Expressing familiarity and comfort, wanting to be closer, and asking for affection.
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Rubbing inner thigh
Oh, you know what this means. A request for intimacy, sating of physical arousal, and a sign of comfort.
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Kiss on the neck
A kiss on the neck is almost always sexual in nature. It happens during sex, or when someone wants to display passion. (well, almost)
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Kiss on the top of the head
Kissing on the head or hair is a nurturing and intimate gesture that shows affection and protectiveness and indicates a close emotional bond. It says, 'I'm here for you,'". (x)
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Tickle
A tickle is a physical touch meaning fun. It is a playful way to make someone laugh and loosen up.
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(x)
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velvetwyrme · 19 hours
Note
i eat up ur recs with a spoon and have almost gotten to the end of the list!!! do u have any other self insert recs? thank u! u have great taste
MWAH MWAH ILY !! THANK YOU and yes ofc I have more recs (not as many as last time, but it should still be a decent list to sink your teeth into <3)
Take care when reading, and always be sure to check the tags!
Same notation as last time, with STATUS of each fic labelled as such: Finished, Ongoing/Unfinished, Discontinued. (Unless the author specified that the fic is Discontinued or on Indefinite Hiatus, I will mark it as Ongoing/Unfinished. Oneshots are also marked as such.)
Spicy (Explicit) and/or Dark fics have also been labelled if relevant. (I won’t mark ones with just suggestive themes/moments, since I cant guarantee I’ll catch all of them. Similarly, unless there is consistent graphic death or gore I [probably] won’t mark it as dark.)
MULTICHAPTERS
As always, tread carefully while reading and take care of yourselves <3
Edit: Fixed a missing link or two!
These Masks We Wear - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
TIME LOOPS BABEY!!!! This reader is a delight from the get go because they have been stuck in a time loop and are... rather impulsive because of it, which lands them in a bit of a mess, because these strange, dangerous monsters have just emerged from the mountain. (I'm screaming and yelling at this fic very intensely)
Resisting the Current - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
If you haven't read this yet please do yourself a favour and read it. The premise was enough to get me irrevocably hooked (anti-harem but the gf is ALSO into you. ALSO SHE'S YOUR EX) and the writing is just FANTASTIC. I'm obsessed with the dialogue and description at every turn. Also, I would very much like to kiss Quinn please and thank you. The plot is beginning to set in now, and it's so good??? I have to cut this short or else I'll talk forever <3
ALSO the same author recently posted the first chapter of Wishbone which has me in a vice grip!!! AHH
Comic Classifieds - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
*kicks in the door* DID I HEAR... FAKE DATING? Very sweet VERY funny, with an extremely extraordinarily awkward reader. (Who is also "cute in an awkward, baby giraffe kind of way.") It's sooo good please please check it out.
Stolen with Friendship, Captured by Love - Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
2016... I still love this fic deeply <3 It's so SWEET and it reminds me of the good days of fic... Papyrus is. a Lot to deal with, but the reader takes it all in stride. He is SO full of energy and I want to sqUISH HIM.
Tough Choices, Tougher Consequences - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
I loooooove stories where soldiers get thrust into awful political matters. After you are forcefully removed from the battlefield, the Emperor gifts you his finest gladiator- Papyrus. He intends for the monster to be a toy to you as much as you are a toy to him, but you can't accept that and quickly broker a deal with Papyrus for his freedom.
Already There - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Finished
[Warning: INCREDIBLY SAD AND GOOD]
BURSTS INTO TEARS. Like for real though I adore this fic, it will break you into a hundred million pieces. My beloved son!!!!!!! I can't believe I didn't add this one to my last list it's such an influential piece of my existence like genuinely
There is also a sequel! Which hasn't updated since 2018 BUT STILL IS REALLY GOOD. If you want a slightly less heartbreaking story, the author also has another Sans/Reader; A Tale of Dog and Monster which makes me want to cry but in a happy emotional way instead.
Here's to You, Doll - Mafia!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Ah... this one is very fun. You're a scientist who gets accidentally isekai'd into a Mafiatale universe and becomes stranded there. Unfortunately for you, Don Gaster and his brothers think you are a spy, so you're kinda stuck with them. Also Sans is kinda a little freak in this one at times (/appreciative)
Soul Collector - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
The reader (the Soul Collector) gets transported into another universe and has to stay with their alternate, who is the skeleton's terrible neighbour. You look just like her, of course, resulting in a lot of VERY confusing interactions. I wasn't expecting to, but I actually really like Meyer.
Consequences - Papyrus(?)/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Anti harem, but the reader gets mcfreaking MURDERED (and so does classic Papyrus?!) so now they are both Ghosts. Focus is currently more on platonic relationships and REVENGE but I'm enjoying the twist on the typical anti-harem structure!!
My Soulmate is a Pastel Goth (And Other Concerns) - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Edge is very cute in this and I also feel really bad for him, he's trying so hard but the MC will not give him the time of day ;w;!! I looove me a good tumultuous soulmate fic. (Note: this fic also features Fem!Frisk as Sans’ soulmate in the bg, so if you’re not a fan, that’s something to note ^^! Fr//ans isn’t quite my thing, but tbh I’m really interested in seeing how things turn out here!)
ERROR: Not Found - Error!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Error, gets obsessed with the reader and kidnaps them! It's slice of life, so don't expect TOO much hard hitting angst here, it's more about being woo'd by the strange stalkerish entity who knows everything about you <3
When Death isn't an Option - Horror!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
I'm a sucker for immortal readers, especially ones that get stuck in HORRORTALE of all places. This fic is very fun and plays in the Horrortale sandbox in a fun way- I'm enjoying it a ton so far :]!!!
Additionally... if you liked that or if you're like me and love immortal readers forced to make decisions of extremely dubious morality and sense because of their immortal nature, you should also check out Cadarverous and 𝚎𝚊t. which are both very dark and very compelling.
Babysitting with Extra Morbid Steps - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
So the first thing you need to know is: Papyrus is dead.
... WAIT WAIT WAIT HEAR ME OUT- this is a really brilliantly written fic about like. SO much fucked up shit happening. The reader is Sans' friend, who he has hired/tasked with guarding the various alternates he has. just straight up imprisoned(?!?!). I avoided this for a while because of the aforementioned Papyrus Being Dead thing, but HOT DAMN I'm glad I read it in the end. Delightfully horrifying, but it gets sweet I swear!!! I would say read the tags but those are Spoilery ;)!
Additional note; the comments section often has Really Interesting dissections of characters and their motivations, which if you're into that (like me) then you should read those too!
All You Knead is Loaf - Sans/Reader - Finished
[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]
Super sweet, VERY punny fic that updated over the course of a month iirc. It's a cute food-centric Sans/Reader!
Like a moth to flame…or a lamp - Mothman Horror!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
BIG MOTHMAN HORROR!!! He's so sweet and sad this poor man. He has mistaken the reader for his mate and is trying to woo them again...
Those Times I Met His Brother - Sans/Reader - Finished
Essentially you befriend Papyrus and keep getting left with Sans, during which you grow closer. Love Papyrus' not-so-subtle attempts to get them together afjkdfjsf,,
Just Try and Help (Lil Old Hopeless Me) - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Skeleton reader! Very angy skeleton reader. They do not Want to be here (understandably, considering they were essentially kidnapped) but their former caretaker is gone, and they have nowhere to go.
Lovely House of Bones - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Six monsters get stranded in a snowstorm, and you help them not freeze to death by inviting them into the house you inherited. I'm really excited to see where this one goes :D!
Maybe In Time, You'll Want To Be Mine - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
More!! Soulmate stuff!!!! SOULMARKS BABEY!! Love it when there are misunderstandings! Love it when there are cuuuuute background character kiddos!! AUGH it's cute! And angsty! But cute!!
No Good Deed - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Finished
You volunteer at a local homeless shelter where you meet a strange, less-than-friendly volunteer. Short and sweet!
Nothing but Skin and Bone - Horror!Skelebros/Reader - Finished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
MORE Horrortale content! This one only finished last month or so- it goes from angsty to sweet/cute and it's real good!!
If you read that and want EVEN MORE sadness and gore, the author's other work Vivid Blood, Pale Scars (DARK) is very tragic and very fucked up because you get saddled the Horrorfell boys this time. MUCH Hurt and No Comfort!! All the endings hurt me in different ways and none of them are happy. LUCKILY(?) the spinoff/AU where the skelebros and reader from VBPS get pulled into a multiversal skeleton house; Blurred Lines, Opened Wounds has just started!! Surely nothing can go wrong. Surely.
The Princes' Bride - Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
What if you got kidnapped by the king to marry his sons. "Why" is a good question. And an even MORE pressing question is: how do you get OUTTA here. (Papyrus is a sweetie, Sans is distrusting, and King Gaster is a mysterious weirdo who is a good dad and bad everything else.)
MorTificaTion - Bad Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Reader from Outertale gets yanked into Horrortale! They then have to masquerade as Sans' wife and Aliza's mother, all the while trying to just stay alive. Not to mention the other Sanses running around... really fun premise and I'm excited to see where it all goes >:0!! Also extra kudos to the name of the fic because YAY Murder Time Trio (MTT) mention!
So here's the plan... - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader/Underswap!Papyrus- Finished
[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]
VERY CUTE!! Love them. Fake dating except there's a third conspirator involved. Each of them was also trying to set the other two up in a couple uwu. Chapter 1 is cute, and chapter 2 is spicy ;)!
Just a Cat - Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Finished
The reader is in fact, not just a cat. (He is a shapeshifter, and pretends to be a cat.) Shenanigans ensue.
An Apple a Day Keeps the Asshole Away - Swapfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Unhinged. When I say unhinged I mean it in the best possible way but it IS unhinged. They're all a bunch of little FREAKS. Please read it, if only to experience the absolute TERROR of Miss Bluebell and also Steve. What the hell (appreciative)
Honey Lemon Tea - ...?/Reader - Discontinued
RAGHHH I'm so sad this was discontinued :(( I loved the set up and the mystery so much... the author did leave an end note with how the plot would have played out though!
Shifting Morals - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
You go stargazing and have an encounter with a mysterious stranger :0c?! (It's Sans. He's a cool beasty guy, and he is very very sadly Entirely alone.)
Additionally, this fic was suddenly revived 5 years after posting the first chapter which I have immense respect for.
The Key To Freedom - Yandere Buttontale!Papyrus/Reader - Finished
Yandere Papyrus! Not a common sight, but this fic does it particularly well. He mostly wants to eat your soul at first, but then he starts getting... attached. The bittersweet ending!!! AUGH.
Milky Tea and Souls - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
What if you could summon bitty versions of your soulmates!! And oh stars why are there so many- WHAT DO YOU MEAN MORE KEEP APPEARING??? The reader has a handful of skeletons and more to deal with!
The House on Lane 66 - Various/Reader - Finished
[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]
I feel like legally I have to include this (/lh /j). I finally finished it recently and went "WOAH..."
I stopped reading for a while (because of the length...) BUT I returned to it because I really really enjoy the world building (like holy SHIT!!!) but oh my god that sure is. a Million words now. It is TECHNICALLY finished, but that's only because the next part is in the works(?!?!?!)
Love Grows - Farmtale!Sans/Anomaly!Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
🎵 Love grows where my rosemary goes~
The reader doesn't have a physical body or a way to interact with the world while they watch over Saejun and the rest of the Farmtale characters. They inhabit a scarecrow to have some semblance of personhood, but they remain unable to talk...
Falling - Underswap!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
You are dying. You are dying and all of a sudden your dad is asking you to pick out a fucking slave of all things. The monster does not trust you (fair) and he thinks you are faking your illness for attention (less fair. what the fuck). Really interesting dynamics in this one!
Se Brûler - Grillby/Reader - Finished
[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]
I reaaaally love this fic! Sweet fluff! Angst! THE DRAMA!!!!! AUAUUUUGH I have too much to say about it just go read it.
Early Bird Special - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
Old fic that's still updating!!!! Really interesting plot that just keeps getting More Dramatic as time goes on (in a good way). It's a Slavetale AU, in which the reader ends up joining the resistance after a few chance encounters. The author also has a spinoff fic with the same premise but featuring Underfell instead, which results in quiiiiite a lot changing.
nemesis & nike - Various Horrorbros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
The reader essentially starts off in a zombie apocalypse and then gets transported into an alternate universe where they initially think that the various skeletons they meet are zombies. Turns out they are not in fact, zombies, but like most of them still want to kill the reader so...
Rules to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse - Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes] [Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]
More zombie apocalypse stuff! Except this time you're stuck there with a pair of weird skeletons! You give them nicknames so you don't get attached, but of course you end up getting attached anyway.
To My Horror - Horror!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Post-surfacing Horrortale fic where the skelebros get to go live their farming dreams. With you! Slice of life with a dash of intimidation and angst.
If you enjoyed the Horrortale/Farmtale fusion, you'll be glad to hear there's also...
The Skeleton Stalks - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Another Horror-farm-tale fusion which has just begun recently! You live on a farm and all of a sudden there is this Big Intelligent Dog hanging around. Eventually, your new neighbors are sent to check in on you and your Great(er) Dog, which leads to some sweet interactions.
The Ruse - Swapfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
This is a rework! I read the original fic while it was being originally posted and I ADORED it, and the rework is superb <3 Sans is the Captain of the Royal Guard, who must fight valiantly against the villanous Eclipse, who exists only to spread terror... and you're just some human chilling on the sidelines, posting treasonous Soriel posts on the Undernet.
I'm so so so excited for it to return auauusgfhfhdj THE ORIGINAL FIC IS GONE SO I CAN'T EVEN READ IT TO SATIATE ME...
Almost Alone - Swapfell!Papyrus/Male!Reader - Finished
I love the sleepy, slow atmosphere this fic has- it's so befitting of both SF!Pap and the MC in this. It's soft and sweet and melancholic auauuauauuughgh I LOVE IT... *bursts into tears again*!!!! Also, there is a side fic which follows different POVs throughout the story, which is similarly well written!
=========================
ONESHOTS
Date night Purring - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot
SUPER CUTE (and slightly suggestive)! Also Edge has a feminine body in this which is always fun. Booba <3
Scares and a Sudden Friendship - Horror!Sans/Reader - Oneshot
Reader's shitty boyfriend leaves them behind in the haunted house in which HT!Sans is working as a scare actor. Sweet little meet cute! (Meet spook?)
Fallen Star - Underfell!Gaster/Reader - Oneshot
An ooooold fic but one that never fails to break my heart. Written from the perspective of UF!Gaster recording experiment logs about the newest fallen human.
Birdy -Mafiafell!Sans/Reader - Oneshot
LET THE BIRD FUCK SHIT UP!! I love the way the Avian... siren(?) reader is characterised... there's also another oneshot in the same series which I enjoyed- love me some weird Creature Body Horror!!
I also really enjoyed the author's other fic: Moss & Mycelium, wherein the reader is a skeleton :]!!
Skeleton's Curiosity - FellswapGold!Skelebros/Reader - Oneshot
SUBNAUTICA AUUUUUUUUUUU YEAAHH BABEY!! I love mermaid AUs and I love Subnautica! Real cute!
Chance Encounter - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot
ANOTHER SUBNAUTICA AU :D!! Except it's just UF!Pap this time <33 !!!
Leaving A Mark - Sans/Reader - Oneshot
The twist(?) made me laugh so hard I almost cried. It's VERY cute also.
Nice to Scare You - Various/Reader - Oneshot Series
A fun series of oneshots of the spookier variety! Or more Halloween-y at least. All very good <3
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MISC. / OTHER
The Escort - Lust!Sans/Reader || &Reader - Finished
[Warning: Contains Discussions of Explicit Content.]
No romance! (But lots of kind-of-onscreen fucking.) This fic feels like looking at a bunch of polaroids, seeing a snapshot of existence. Life out of context. And it works SO well. It makes me feel sad and existential and I really love it.
Rubble & Ramparts - (An R&R-Inspired AU Fic) - Various/OC || Various&OC - Ongoing/Unfinished
Not a reader insert, but it's like. An AU of a reader insert so I'm including it here!!! Rubble and Ramparts is of course, inspired by R&R (Rabble & Rampallians), which was on my previous list but is getting linked here again for ease of navigation
ALEXIS my beloved!!!!!!! I am in loooove with the way things are going in this fic. It's so COOL and Alexis is such a freaking DELIGHT. Also I just really love reading all the notes from the Cutting Room floor, which the author has kindly included in a separate fic for your reading pleasure!!
ALSO in writing this I also remembered there is Another Spinoff AU fic which IS a reader insert (that I'm enjoying)...
Perception & Patronage (An R&R Spinoff) - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
Thank the stars I remembered this, it's really fun!! Also judging by the tags there is also plans for. not only Various Sanses/Reader, but also READER/READER, which is such an underrated thing I love it, but I digress. It's a really fun spin on a really fun fic <3
Teen Livin' - Various Skelebros & Reader + Frisk/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished
[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]
Cute and sad! Platonic reader insert. The reader is a troubled teen who befriends Frisk, and gets to meet a bunch of skeletal guardians. The skeletons have a familial/friend's cool cousin vibe with the reader, which is really sweet! The fic is currently going through a Halloween Special which I'm enjoying quite a bit (Haunted dolls! Ghosts! Blood!! Still very sad :[...)
Something Good - Fellswap Gold!Papyrus/Reader(?) || /OC(s) - Ongoing/Unfinished
Technically not a reader insert since Coffee is the MC, but I can forgive it because I'm really really invested in this and I really adore the character dynamics so far <3 Coffee striking it out on his own is always a fun thing to explore, and I'm excited to see more!!
=========================
I love writing up these rec lists- it's such a fun way for me to rediscover fics I've enjoyed, thank you for giving me another opportunity to reread some of my favourite fics and more importantly to share them with you! I hope you enjoy them as much as I did :D!!!
I'll probably leave it here for now or else I'll end up rereading fics forever lolol it's already like 3am I gotta sleep SOMETIME
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