#but this is considered done so here it is

[seungkw1]

make me — ksy

♡ pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 1.8k ♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied), handjob, hoshi is obsessed w boobs, hoshi is a simp, i ramble on about star wars for a bit at the beginning ♡ a/n: might have to do a pt. 2 to this one so lmk if anyone is interested in that 👀

“No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!!”

“Soonyoung. Be so fucking for real right now.” 

Your roommate doesn’t usually drink, and you’re starting to see why. Two Jack & Cokes and he’s fucking gone already.

“I’m telling you y/n, The Rise of Skywalker is so fucking good. You should stop being a haterrrr,” he says, inches away from your face as he leans over to you, nearly pushing you off the couch. You’ve never been this physically close to him, though you’ve certainly thought about it (more than once). Your heart flutters from the proximity of his lips to yours, but you have more important matters at hand right now.

“I didn’t say I hated it, it’s just not that good compared to all the other Star Wars movies!”

He picks up his drink again. You stop him before he can take a sip, handing him a glass of water instead. 

“Well how would I know? I haven’t seen the other movies.”

“WHAT?!”

He takes a big gulp of the water. “I’ve only seen the new ones,” he admits with a shrug.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead against your palm in exasperation. You grab the remainder of his beverage and drink it all in one go. 

This argument isn’t that serious of course - you just need to calm your nerves a bit, considering Soonyoung has now placed your hand on your thigh as he blabbers on.

“Besides, seeing Kylo Ren and Rey finally kiss was great. I cheered.”

“You’re a fucking REYLO SHIPPER??”

“A what?” He blinks at you with heavy eyelids. “I don’t speak that language.”

“Kylo Ren and Rey made a terrible couple, it’s literally toxic. The plot between them should’ve never been a romance.”

“But I like romance!” he practically shouts in your face. You’ve always enjoyed bantering with Soonyoung for fun, but the alcohol in both of your systems is definitely upping the ante. You’ve seen him act ridiculous plenty of times before, but he’s on another level today.

“It’s fucking Star Wars, it doesn’t need romance!!” you shout back.

“Well I think it does!” he states indignantly.

“What do you know?? You haven’t seen the other movies!!”

“So I can’t have an opinion??”

“NO??”

“Why are you being so mean to meeeee,” Soonyoung whines, making big sad puppy dog eyes at you. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“You’re literally insane. Get off of me!” you shout as he leans over onto you, practically clinging onto you in his drunken stupor.

He ignores you, getting even more up in your face. “You’re just mad because I have better taste in movies than you.”

“Will you just shut the FUCK UP???”

“MAKE ME!”

You pause, staring at him for a few moments too long. He stares back at you, confusion spreading across his face. Then-

You kiss him.

Your lips press softly against his for only a few moments. You pull back, looking at your roommate eye to eye, watching his inebriated brain trying to process what just happened. As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, it suddenly clicks. He swallows nervously.

“What was that for?” he hesitantly asks, barely more than a whisper.

“I…” you start, but quite honestly you don’t know where that came from. Sure, you’ve found Soonyoung attractive since the day you met him - and sure, living with him has led to a few domestic fantasies here and there. But you are friends, nothing more - your boundaries are unspoken, but clearly established. 

Or so you thought.

Soonyoung’s dark eyes stare into yours. Panic alarms are going off in your head. You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up oh god you fucked up big time…

“I’m so sorr-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence. Soonyoung’s mouth aligns with yours, kissing you hungrily, his hands grasping onto your arms. Shock reverberates through your body as he makes out with you, his hands sliding to your back, pulling your body close against his as his tongue pokes at your lips, requesting entrance. You let him in. He squeezes you even tighter against him as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

After what felt like about a thousand years, you break apart, barely - his lips hovering mere inches in front of yours. The look he gives you is one you’ve never seen him make before - he gazes at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he wants to devour you.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You’re simply dumbstruck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he mutters as his hands drop to your hips, still holding onto you for dear life.

“You… like me?”

You silently curse yourself at how dumb you sound. Asking him if he likes you, as if you were in fucking middle school.

“Yeah,” he replies emphatically. “I really really really like you.”

Your head spins, the intoxication doing nothing to help you process this information.

“Um… since when?” 

Soonyoung is still drunk as hell, but he speaks clear as day.

“Short answer, since we moved in together.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.

“And the long answer?”

He shifts awkwardly, doing a very poor job of trying to hide his boner.

“Middle of July. It was hot as balls. I woke up that morning to you making pancakes. You were wearing a light blue tank top with nothing underneath, and-” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.

“And my god, your boobs looked perfect. The pancakes smelled good, but all I wanted was your tits in my mouth.” 

His hand delicately trails up to your breasts, where he is currently staring, taking one of them and squeezing it. He lets out a soft groan as he does.

“Fuck, even better than I imagined.”

“Is that why you took so long to come out for breakfast that day?” you say as your fingertips glide over his thigh, moving toward the very obvious bulge that has formed in his pants. You grab his cock through the fabric. He practically yelps as you begin to caress it slowly.

“Y-yeah,” he answers, his voice going up an octave, practically melting under your touch. 

“So you’re saying that you went and jerked off while you thought of my tits.”

“Um,” he tenses up nervously, realizing what he’s just admitted to.

Before he can say anything else, you take your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. If his eyes could physically pop out of his head on a pair of springs, they’d be doing just that right now.

You unclasp the hook, removing the undergarment and tossing it aside. He gawks at you - his cock twitches under your palm. You begin to stroke his length, but he immediately grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He’s still staring at your chest.

“Where would you rather cum?”

“I- what?” He looks up at you, his eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes, then back to your boobs, then back to your mouth. 

“Okay then,” you say as you slide off the couch.

“What’re you-” he asks, but freezes as you position yourself between his legs. His body tenses as you undo his belt, quickly unfastening the button and yanking the zipper down. The rock hard bulge protrudes through the fabric of his underwear, begging to escape. You pull the band down, freeing his already-leaking cock. You take the length in your hands, giving it a few slow strokes. He sinks into the couch with a loud groan.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, your touch sending him to another planet. 

With a swirl of your tongue you lap up the precum dripping from his tip, causing him to let out the biggest whine. You wrap your lips around the head, slowly taking his length into your mouth. 

“Fuckkkkkkk, y/n…” 

He lets out a gasp as you swallow him to his base. He places one hand softly upon your head as you begin to move your mouth up and down his cock. Within seconds he is a moaning, blubbering mess.

“Feels so good baby, oh god don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot oh my god… fuckkkk…”

You increase your pace. Between moans he continues praising you, whining and whimpering, begging you for more. The man simply cannot shut up about how good you’re sucking him off.

And it’s making you so incredibly wet right now.

You want to touch yourself so badly, but your priority is pleasuring Soonyoung. And judging by the way he is wriggling under you, bucking his hips and fucking his cock into your throat, unintelligibly babbling as he moans your name - you’re doing a pretty damn good job.

“Oh fuck,” he cries out. “Fuck, y/n, gonna cum…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before hot white ropes are hitting the back of your throat. He grips onto your hair as he cums, cock pulsating in your mouth as he rides out his high. As he comes down, he collapses into the sofa - you slowly pull your mouth off of him, making a show of swallowing all of his cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n…”

You climb back up onto the couch. He immediately leans in and starts kissing you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Are you seriously thanking me for sucking your dick?”

He shrugs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “You just gave me the best head of my life, least I can do is say thanks.”

“Actually,” he corrects himself right away, “I take that back. If you’ll let me, can I… may I please eat you out?”

You burst out laughing. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Sorry, if you don’t want-”

“No no no,” you tell him, still laughing. “It’s not that, I’ve just never had anybody ask me so politely like that before.”

His face lights up, hopeful. “So can I?” he pleads enthusiastically. “Pleaseeeeeeee? Please please please?”

You lean your head into his shoulder, giggling like an idiot.

“Soonyoung, you are truly one of a kind.”

He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up until you are eye to eye. His nose presses into yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You smile as you kiss him.

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

He practically leaps off the couch, startling you. He grabs your hand, pulling you up and directing you toward his bedroom.

“Wait,” he says as he pauses. He looks at you very seriously.

“My room or yours?”

“Don’t care,” you respond eagerly.

He grins. “Yours, then.”

—

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•. #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #hoshi smut #hoshi fics #hoshi imagines #hoshi scenarios #svt smut #svt fics #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #hoshi x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen hard hours #svt hard hours

[wri0thesley]

cw: cunnilingus, not sfw, arranged marriage reader wearing a gown (no pronouns). based on this post from a few days ago. 3.1k

There's a pout on your pretty mouth that Wriothesley is utterly itching to kiss off. 

It’s an expression he’s grown rather used to on the face of his spouse; somebody as properly born and bred to society as you finds themselves a touch adrift when faced with Wriothesley’s own gruff manner, his inability to kowtow to the strictures that Fontainian society attempts to place on those who have ascended to its lofty heights. 

Unfortunately, when his availability had become common knowledge and eager parents had flocked to him in order to hawk their beloved children like so many lovely wares, he had found himself exceedingly drawn to you. To the stiff little way you held yourself and inclined your head, the way your voice had shook - the way that you hadn’t immediately tried to flutter your lashes and laugh at things that were not jokes. 

It had not hurt that your family, though fine of name and lineage, had fallen somewhat into financial difficulty. Some parents had withdrawn their offspring from the game of courtship when it had become clear that though Wriothesley now had the title of ‘Duke’, he was still at heart a former criminal, and not the genteel fawning aristocrat they had expected to find. 

(A title is not enough to take back over half a life spent in the fortress of Meropide, after all; not enough to scrub the memory of noses crunching beneath his fists, of what it feels like to end someone’s life even if it is for the greater good). 

Your family, though, had needed the boost; the Mora and the prestige. And so you had remained achingly polite and maddeningly prim and proper and so very obviously inexperienced that the sweetness of it all made the back of Wriothesley’s teeth ache. 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask him, in a soft whisper, as his hand fastens firmly but not bruisingly about your upper arm; as your husband maneuvers you away from the chatter of the ballroom. “You’ve barely greeted anyone--” 

He knows you are scandalised; that your parents have taught you to be the gracious party guest, to bow and chatter idly and wax poetic about crystal champagne glasses. But Wriothesley has spoken to Chief Justice Neuvillette (just as out of place and adrift here as Wriothesley himself), and he considers that his duty properly done. He has no desire to do the things that are expected of him. 

Not when that pout on your face - the way the light hits the glimmering petals of your lower lip - is begging to be kissed within an inch of its life, and the moonlight streaming through the windows is illuminating the curves of you in your pretty gown, and he knows that you will squirm and squeak and call him a dirty old man in that way he loves, your voice pitching with desire you’re still not sure about, the moment he has you alone at his mercy in one of the shadowed hallways of tonight’s party. 

“Just to get some air,” he says, giving a smile that’s all wolf-bared teeth to the closest gentleman who dares to give you both a briefly disapproving look. “Isn’t it just so horribly stuffy in there?”

Your nose wrinkles, between your brows creasing. Wriothesley thinks about kissing every place the flesh furrows on your face, covering you in them until you’re helpless to do anything but laugh. He always feels like a hero when he has managed a laugh out of you; you seem to give them so rarely, and it’s such a darling little bell of a noise. 

“It’s barely been ten minutes,” you settle on, the faintest hint of reproach in your voice. “It’s really not polite . . .”

What is not polite, he thinks, is the way that the run of his thoughts have turned to your dress, cut low enough to make people think indecent thoughts about you. There are no manners, either, to the fact he is thinking about the perfume he had watched you dab on this evening, and wondering how long he’d have to rut into you until the only thing that people could smell on you would be the musk of his ownership. 

“They’ll live,” Wriothesley says firmly, steering you out into the hallway. “You ought to know nobody here really wants my esteemed company.”

There’s no bitterness in his voice. Wriothesley does not want to be beloved of this particular roiling mass of humanity; the aristocracy, in his experience, is all artifice. He may spend his time with criminals, but at least the criminal underclasses are usually honest about what they want. They’ve been taught that ‘you do not get if you do not ask, do not try, do not work for it’ - these people, this gathering of society schmoozers . . . they get simply by being born. 

Of course, since he married you, there have been more invitations than before. 

Part of it is curiosity - what kind of spouse will the Duke of the Fortress take? One like him, who does not conform? Some of them want nothing more than to ogle at you and find out your secrets, poke you in your softest parts so they know if you will be a weakness that they can later exploit. Wriothesley finds these people distasteful - at least some of the invitations come from those who have already met you, who have been charmed by your pretty manners and sweet way of speaking, who are hoping that perhaps you will be some calming influence on your uncivilised brute of a husband. He still doesn’t like these invitations, of course (any event in which he is forced to put on a stiffly starched shirt and button it to his throat, to fuss with cravats and tailcoats when he’d rather stick to his own clothes, are not generally met with much pleasure for him), but at least you always seem thrilled to get them. 

It’s because of you he had accepted this one. When you had brought the invitation to him all bright-eyed and chirping, like a pretty magpie with a shiny coin, he had not been able to think of an excuse faced with you looking so utterly thrilled . . . and so he’d helped you choose a dress (he does so love you in black and red, and if he had chosen something cut low in the chest for reasons of his own, who is going to blame him when they see you?), and had travelled out of the Fortress in order to please you. 

He’d only lasted ten minutes, but perhaps after he’s pleased himself the two of you can go back out into the throes and he will have the memory of what you’ve just done to dwell on as he pretends to care about the difference between the fish fork and the dessert fork. 

“That’s just because you don’t let them see the real you,” you begin, but Wriothesley has seen what looks like a likely little hallway - secluded and dark, only one or two doorways leading off of it. He tugs at you, and though you offer a token resistance, you allow yourself after a moment to be pulled into the little alcove, and for your husband to cage you against a wall. Your breath catches, your lashes fluttering as your eyes flit to take in the breadth of him, the muscles, the way you are inescapably caught by him - and Wriothesley does not miss the desire that dances over your gaze. “Your Grace--”

“Mmm?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, lowering his face closer to yours so that he can see himself reflected in your eyes. His cock twitches at the way you bite your lip unconsciously, and he knows from the little gasp that you do not miss the sensation of it against you. “Am I doing something untoward again, sweetheart?”

He lets his voice roughen a touch on the word; the patois of the criminal flavouring it in a way that reminds you he is dangerous, and you pout so sweetly and let out the quietest little whine that he doesn’t know how he stops himself from having his way with you right then and there. There are many untoward things he would like to do to you; many untoward things he is planning on doing to you, right here, in public. 

“It’s indecent . . .” You gasp - but you still wrap your arms around his neck, and still pull him in to let him kiss you hot and hungry and fierce as a wolf. He cannot get enough of the way you taste beneath him; there is sugar that lingers on your lips even when he hasn’t seen you imbibe anything but a single glass of champagne when offered. He wants to devour you; to taste every part of you, until his mouth only remembers the lingering remnants of your own. 

You gasp, pressing your body - soft and impossibly pliable - against his wherever you can reach him, hard planes of muscle meeting the softer give of your flesh beneath your gown. 

“You seem to like it well enough,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to whisper it into the delicate shell of your ear, delighting in the way the words make you shiver. You try to school your face to sternness, but your own desire betrays you even as you try and pull your dignity around you like a cloak. 

“B-But, Your Grace, in public--”

“Mm . . . doesn’t the thrill of being caught make it seem all the sweeter?” He gives you a grin that shines like the sharks that sometimes float past the Fortress, serenely serrated. You squeak in a cross between dismay and longing as he sinks to the floor, and his big, scarred hands find the hem of your gown to begin pushing it up your ankles. 

The frills and fripperies of lace and ribbons look almost wicked, in those hands; fine, delicate concoctions of fabric and satin that were not made to be man-handled. You shiver at the thought of his grip ripping through them; of fine fabrics being rent asunder in his hands as you know he is capable of. 

“We shouldn’t--” You whisper, in that pitching whine of ‘don’t’ that is only a step away from ‘please don’t stop’.

His palms - he will not even grudgingly wear full gloves - feel cool, even through your stockings, as he slides them up your calf. His chuckle is a rough-spurred thing, and before you can say anything further he has disappeared beneath your skirts entirely, and you find yourself clinging to the moulding on the wall behind you to try and get some semblance of purchase. 

He tugs at one of the ribbons that keeps your stockings held up, and from the hot puff of air against your bare thigh, you know he has done so with his teeth. Your pulse flutters in your throat, your vision fair spotting with the mixture of feelings that Wriothesley’s actions are drawing forth from you - desire and shame and wanting and need and unsurety, all mixing together inside of you in a cocktail of arousal so potent you barely know how you stand it. 

A wet, open-mouthed kiss is pressed to the spot above your stocking, on your bare thigh. You feel the graze of his teeth against the soft skin, unseen by anyone aside from him. Unmarked by anyone aside from him (you have learnt that the Duke is very fond of using his teeth, during his bed-chamber escapades; you have learnt more at his mouth and his fingers and his mercy than you had ever thought that you would have cause to know). 

Wriothesley’s cock is so hard in his too-tight formal trousers that he can barely think of anything but the pulse between his thighs, but the moment he has his head beneath your skirts and he can scent your arousal on the air, all thoughts of tending to his own almost-painful erection instead turn to tasting you, smelling you, burying himself inside of you until you are a helpless mess. 

He knows that logically you taste, probably, of the oils and the powders and the lotions you use, on your skin and in your bath. Perhaps a touch of your own sweat - but to Wriothesley, the taste that lingers on the tip of his tongue as he takes his time kissing up your thigh, working towards the apex between them, is nothing short of ambrosial. He can hear his own breaths, hard and panting, but he has never been the kind of man who lets himself feel shamed for doing what he wants. 

“You’re dripping,” he grunts, and the muscles in your thighs jump, tensing, as if you’re cringing at what he has said - and though he cannot see you from his place beneath the skirts of your gown, he can gladly imagine the expression on your face. You’re darling. He wants to kiss you until you can’t breathe and fuck you until you can’t walk; but for now . . .

He settles by kissing over the softness of your mound, letting his hot breath once more fan out over that most intimate part of you. He hears you whine again from somewhere above him;

“Wriothesley, you’re being obscene . . .”

He lets his mouth fully envelope your cunt; lets his tongue lathe out across your folds, flickering against your clit in a way that makes you violently jerk. The moan that you let out is muffled - one of your own (gloved, as is right and proper in society) hands has flown up to your mouth. Though he will miss the sound of your enjoyment unencumbered, he supposes it is better for privacy if you at least make an attempt.

“So you want me to stop?” He growls, the taste of your slick lingering on his tongue, honey-thick and just as sweet. To drive in the point of what you would be missing, he lets himself give your clit - the swollen nub standing to attention, as if begging him for more - a kitten lick. 

“Don’t even think about it, you scoundrel,” you say, whisper-soft and gasping, and Wriothesley knows you cannot possibly fail to sense the curve of his lips against your cunt. 

“As you wish,” he says. “Never let it be said that I don’t take my duties as a Duke and a gentleman seriously.”

And he returns to his task with voracious excitement. 

He has done this to you before, but never in public - never with you standing, never with the threat of discovery looming over his head . . . he finds he does indeed quite enjoy the thrill, so he takes his sweet time exploring your folds with his tongue, letting himself be even wetter and messier than he’d normally be. 

The sound is indeed obscene, as he delves the tip of his tongue between your folds - as he finds your pulsing entrance and toys with it, slipping just a little of the flexible muscle inside of the channel until he feels you try and clamp down on it, before he returns to the wet circling of your fluttering hole. 

His nose presses directly into the softness of your mound, grinding against your clit with every slight adjustment of his head. Normally, you’d at least be able to tug on his hair as he did this (and he’s rather fond of that too - the way you do even that so neatly, so apologetically), but now you are entirely at his mercy and it is obvious from the tremble in your thigh, as if you are going to swoon to the floor at any moment. 

You shift to rest more against the wall and Wriothesley takes that as an excuse to manhandle you - he takes one of your thighs and slings it over his shoulder, unbalancing you but for a moment - but giving him far better access to the spot between your legs. 

Far easier, like this, for him to use thumb and forefinger to tease the lips of your labia apart and to settle his mouth around the pearl of your clit. 

You jerk in surprise again, more soft muffled whimpering coming from above. He can make out a few of the words - ‘scoundrel, rake, you filthy pervert, Wriothesley Your Grace please don’t stop--’

He is not a cruel husband, so he does not. 

Your clit, pulsing with need, is drawn into his mouth - and Wriothesley takes great pleasure in suckling upon it the way that one might a particularly delicious candy, his tongue lathing over and over and over. You squirm in his grip, and he imagines your face as it always is when you are close to the edge. You tremble and sweat and shake for him and Wriothesley needs you to fall apart like he needs air. 

He redoubles his efforts; his other hand clenches on your inner thigh, his forefinger finding the pulsing, clenching hole of your sex. As he sucks, he gently inserts just the tip of it inside of you, and oh, you are greedy for more than his mouth--

You come with a strangled cry that is not quite caught by your glove - a clamping of your thighs around Wriothesley’s ears, and a gush of wetness that Wriothesley is more than happy to let flow into his open mouth and down his chin, to stain the collar of his starched white shirt.

When your aftershocks are over - when you are trembling not so violently, and he trusts you to stand on your own two feet, he presses a kiss to your cunt before he returns your leg to the ground.

He disentangles himself from your skirts, his knees only aching a little - nothing, really, compared to the inescapable pulse of his cock where it’s longing to be pressed hot and deep inside of you. He does not bother wiping his mouth of your release - and when you see him, his face shiny and wet with the proof of your enjoyment, you huff in embarrassment and avoid his gaze. 

You’re the sweetest little thing, he thinks again fondly. Even though you had moments ago been rutting against his mouth like the most brazen and desperate creature in Teyvat . . . now, faced with the proof of what you’ve done, you’ve gone over all proper again. 

Deftly and firmly, he takes your chin in his hand and presses a kiss against your mouth, making sure your own taste lingers on the soft petals of your lips. He makes sure he takes full control of it; that it is a press of his ownership of you like his seal pressing into wax on the missives he writes down in the depths of the Fortress. If only you knew just how much of him you owned in turn. 

“I think,” he says, his voice thick, “I feel much improved. And you were right, sweetheart, about it being rude to leave a party so quickly. Should we return back to the ballroom?”

#writing #genshin impact posting #not sfw text #wriothesley x reader #drabble #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Can you pls write cod reaction to reader getting a Brazilian done

So, my HC here is that reader got it done a few days before their boy is due home from a mission/deployment etc. so they can fuck without irritation etc. Click "Keep reading" for all four TF141 boys!

[754 words, NSFW, Explicit, pussy eating, pussy worship, Johnny being a clown, unedited and just my horny thots, let me know if I missed anything]

Price - Has his lips fused to yours and his right hand down the front of your panties the moment he's through the door.

He's had one hell of a shit time on the recent mission, and he missed you like hell.

"What's this then?" he growls as he maps the outline of the thin strip of hair leading down to your clit with his index and middle finger. Hovering just short of where you're aching for him.

"Wanted to surprise you," you gasp as you fawn up into his smouldering baby blues.

"Consider me surprised, love," he hums as he dips his fingers lower, groaning as he nudges your clit, "Now, I'm going to take a quick shower, when I'm out I expect you in bed, naked, so you can show me just how pretty this little cunt looks f'me."

Gaz - Has you on your back, slowly peeling off your clothes as he nips and sucks at your skin as each inch is exposed to him. You're wearing a sexy new set of lingerie that makes his breath hitch as he noses against the lace covering your breasts.

"You didn't have to do this for me, babe," he groans as he palms himself through his trousers. You're spread out on the bed for him, biting your lip with a coy smile as you watch him strip in record time.

"S'not all I did," you say as you watch his one eyebrow raise in piqued curiosity.

"Oh?" he says with a quirk of his lips as he settles between your legs, "Show me."

You gently pull the gusset of your panties to the side to reveal the work of art between your legs. You don't have a moment to brace yourself before he's diving between your thighs, tongue lapping greedily at your clit as he babbles about how sexy it is. He eats you out until you're literally begging him to stop.

Soap - Can't stop grinning the moment you expose your little landing strip to him.

"Eh, bonnie, we match!" He points to his mohawk, then to your cunt and you can't help but laugh at him.

"MacTavish," you growl at him, heat searing over your cheekbones as you make grabby hands at him, "Come here and fuck me."

"Wait a second," he bats your hands away before leaning in closer, hot breath fanning over your already slick folds, "Just want to say hello."

"Johnny," you groan in protest as he runs the tip of his index finger through the short thatch of hair down to your clit.

"Patience, lass," he admonishes you as he rests his cheek on your thigh, "Just admiring her."

You're about to protest once more when he licks a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit before sucking hard on your clit. You arch your back as he hums against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Look at that," he coos, "Sexy minx you are."

Johnny affectionately starts to call your landing strip a Faux-hawk from then on.

Ghost - Genuinely looks puzzled and for a moment you're super self-conscious.

"Do you like it?" You ask, after a whole minute of silence.

"S'alright, I suppose," he says with a shrug. You try not to let the seeming indifference hurt, he can be like this sometimes, you know that.

"Oh," you say with a sheepish smile as you instinctively try to close your legs, his broad torso getting in the way.

"Preferred your bush, sweetheart," he says, picking up on your discomfort as he leans in to kiss your clit with a gentle brush of his lips before he looks up at you with those honey-brown eyes, "But I appreciate the thought, do you like it?"

"Yeah," you say shyly as he lazily drags his tongue back and forth over your swollen nub, "I do."

"Then I fucking love it," he responds with a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He actually comes around to the idea pretty quickly, the tactile difference against his face of smooth skin and coarse hair drives him wild. He especially likes how it feels when you ride his face.

He asks if you're going to make this a regular thing, and when you say you want to, his smile is feral as he pins you down to worship your body all over again.

#t141 #tf 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #mw2 141 #141 headcanons #cod #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #fluffy 141 #fluff #task force 141 fluff #cod x reader #t141 x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #smut #cod smut #call of duty x reader #cod imagine #call of duty smut #captain john price

[misstycloud]

Can you do yandere boyfriend and yandere in-laws

You and your husband were driving up north to visit your in-laws. They were a nice couple who’d decided to move to a small town after retirement. It made sense to you, after decades of work and stressing over all that life throws at you, who wouldn’t want a little seclusion?

For the entirety of you and your husband’s relationship, he’d talk about his parents and how glad he was to have what they have; he loves you so much. They were his role models in just about everything. It was a bit weird to you how inspired he seemed by his parents relationship, sometimes. He could go on and on about how he was lucky to have you and you two were going to be together forever- like his parents who’s been married for a little over 30 years. He’d also never fail to mention on how he would give you everything and tread you right- again, like his dad does his mom. However, you shook it off as him admiring them and being very close, especially since he’s an only child.

That was not all. From the moment you met them in person, you had a strange underlying feeling regarding them. You hardly believed they were criminals or something of that kind, but there was something. For example, you’d catch his mother watching you from time to time. It could be when you’re outside in the garden and you’d notice her watching from the kitchen window, quickly averting her gaze and busy herself with the dishes. Or when his father insisted to accompany you to the grocery store despite his now-bad leg. You had told him he should stay at the house and that you didn’t need help or anything, but he dismissed your rejections. Not to mention their willingness to help your with just about anything, and your mother-in-law did not spare any expense in the seemingly random gifts she bought you. Mind you, this was back when you and your husband hadn’t even been together that long and you’d barely gone over the official couple threshold.

“We’ll be there soon, honey. It’s not far now.” Your husband said to you, giving you a quick glance before fousing back on the road ahead of you.

You smiled and responded, “That’s good, I can’t wait to get out of this car.” You sighed and looked at the fields passing by outside the car window.

With a frown, he asked, “Are you feeling nauseous? Does your back hurt? Are you sore anywhere? Should I stop?” Immediately he began ranting about your comfortablility like he’s done all through your relationship.

“No!” You exclaimed. “There’s no need to stop, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit cramped up is all. It’ll be better when we’re there.” You explained while grabbing his hand and showing that you’re good.

He side-eyed you for a second, as if he was trying to find evidence you were lying. Then he breathed out in relief, “Okay, I don’t want you to be in any pain or be uncomfortable in any way-especially now.” Your worrying husband let go of you to move his hand over stomach and stroke it in gentle movements. All while still keeping an eye on the road, of course. It wasn’t long until his happy mood bounced back. “I’m so glad we managed to come out here, it’s feels like ages since last time. And I know how anxious my mom has been to see you again.” He chuckled at his mothers attachment to her daughter-in-law. He would almost say she loved you more than him with how she fawned over you. Though, he didn’t mind.

You simply smiled in return.

When you finally were at your in-laws house, your mother-in-law was instantly at your side, trying to help you he out of the car despite you being very capable of doing so yourself. Your father-in-law scolded her and told her to let you be, in which she shushed him.

It wasn’t long until she started pushing gifts in your direction. Although, they were much appreciated this time around considering your current state and needs. The couple treated you to a nice home cooked dinner and the conversation shifted between different topics. After devouring the delicious chocolate cake being served as dessert, you felt it was time for bed. You had already been quite tired during your journey but it the fatigue was really hitting you now. You yawned and told the others you were going to bed, asking your husband if he was going to go with you.

He shook his head. “No, you go to bed first, sweetie. I’ll be right up, soon.” He reassured and kissed you on the forehead as a sign of affection. Then he gently ushered you upstairs and after you were out of sight, went back to his parents seated in the living room.

“Straight to bed, then?” Mother-in-law asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” Your husband answered.

“Oh, I do hope the bed is comfortable enough for her. I bought a new madress since your last visit. Lovely girl, was to afraid to say it made her back hurt. It’s rare to find such polite young people nowadays, wouldn’t you agree, honey?” The elder woman turned to her spouse, who nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure she’ll love it, mom.” Her son said and sat down in a cushioned chair.

“I hope.” she sighed, “She deserves a good nights rest. You’re lucky to have her, son, don’t forget that.” She half-jokingly reminded.

He chuckled and responded with, “Of course not. I love her more than anything. She completes me.” Thinking back to all the wonderful memories, he adorned an elated expression. “Besides, weren’t you the ones to teach me to never let go of what I love?”

“Haha, got me there. In all reality though, you did a good job taking her back. You know, I was a little worried for a moment there, thinking the wedding might be called off. I thought she perhaps found out about your…hobbies.” Mother-in-law raised a brow at her son, leaving the question open.

“No, it was something else. Fortunately.” He added. “But we fixed things and everything is as it should be.” his attention was turned towards his father, who for the first time spoke up.

“Well, relationships have been known to be a bit tricky for us” he referred to their family. “We are known for being somewhat intense with our feelings which may not always be appreciated. However, it is the truest form of love one can give and I’m so lucky to have found a partner who shares this view.” He placed his hand over mother-in-law’s who awed. “You said everything is steady, but you should still be careful. It would not be beneficial for either of you if a last resort has to be used.”

“Of course not.”

There are many stories of evil mother-in-law’s who despised their sons wife for the simplest of reasons. They would be cruel and treat the wife worse than dirt, all while playing innocent whenever someone had payed a little closer attention. She hated those women. How could one treat their child’s one-and-only that way? Though, she knew her view on love and relation did not match the majority of society so that might have something to do with it.

She absolutely adored you. You were simply perfect for her son. Kindness, humility, beauty- these were only a small range of your qualities. In a way, you were like the daughter she wished she had. Of course she wasn’t disheartened with her son’s birth, she would love her child no matter what, but she couldn’t lie and say the thought of a little girl wasn’t tempting. It would be so fun dressing up, doing each others hair, teaching her how to do makeup if she was interested.

She wanted to do those things with you someday. Sadly, she could sense you being a bit apprehensive to her company at times. She knew it was likely due to the excitement she radiated. She couldn’t help it, though! You are just so sweet it makes her want to bite into you like a piece of cake(don’t worry she wouldn’t actually). Mother-in-law has reminded herself to keep things down as to not overwhelm you, but it’s hard. If only she had the level of control her husband did.

Father-in-law is a admirable, hardworking man. He is clear-headed and calm; rarely does anything get to him. Although most would think him somewhat scary and stern, you actually like him a lot. He is not all toughness as he might want you to believe, in fact, he’s been very kind to you. That’s not to say that mother-in-law hasn’t been, but it’s just different with him, somehow. You felt like the two of you had a mutual understanding of kinds, and you also liked that he understood not to smother you.

He thinks you’re a wonderful addition to the family, even if he wouldn’t shout it out for the world to hear. He’d be too embarrassed. You are a good person and great match for his son. You’ll make him happy beyond measure, which is what father-in-law wants. Now that you’re permanently in the family, he often thinks of the things he and his wife taught their son. Now, he doesn’t hope you’ll ever have to find out about them since he’s not sure how you’d respond to that knowledge; most don’t respond positively and it’s likely the same for you. They could damage you forever.

Father-in-law promises to protect you since you’re part of his family now, and he’ll do anything for his family.

#oc #yandere oc #male yandere #obsessed #possesive #toxic #misstycloud oc #yandere x reader #yandere husband #Yandere mother in law #Yandere father in law #yandere in laws #platonic yanderes #platonic in laws #platonic yandere in laws

[cameronluvr]

BABY TRAPPED PART 2 — dark!rafe x fem reader

summary: you finally gain the courage to tell rafe the news, but things turn aggressive once you find out he replaced your birth control pills.

warnings: teenage pregnancy, mentions of forced pregnancy, fighting, arguing, manipulating, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, blackmailing, choking, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ PART 1

some days later, you gain the courage to tell rafe. you stayed up most nights thinking for hours about what to say, and how to say it. you rehearsed hundreds of different ways in your head, but all of them terrified you.

was he going to be happy? was he going to be angry? you had no idea.

you sit on your bed, staring at rafe’s contact number on your phone. you’d been staring at it for the past 5 minutes, being too anxious to call him. ‘i need to get it over and done with’ you thought to yourself.

and with that thought in your head, your thumb presses on the call button. your breathing sped up, and your fear sank in as you watch it ring. seconds later, he picks up.

“hey” he says.

“hey rafe.. uh.. do you think i could come over? i need to talk to you about something… it’s kinda serious” you hesitate to explain.

“yeah sure, everything ok?” he asks. “uh— i’ll just talk to you when i get there… bye” you quickly say before pressing the red button to end the call, not even giving him chance to say anything else.

you didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. you needed to see him in person, so you hopped off your bed and jogged downstairs. you call out to your parents to let them know you’re going out and that you wouldn’t be too long, you wouldn’t dare tell them you were going to see rafe.

— you arrive at tannyhill around 20 minutes later, rushing to the front door only to be greeted by ward when you knocked. “y/n… are you here for sarah?..” he asks awkwardly, knowing you are going through a rough patch with rafe, and that you two were considered done for good. “no, uh.. i’m actually here to see rafe..” you reply, seeing him raise his eyebrows.

“rafe!” he calls out to his son, who is already making his way downstairs. “hey y/n, come in” he says, stepping in front of his dad and placing his hand on the door, motioning for you to come inside with his other.

ward rolls his eyes and walks away, knowing you two are on and off constantly. but he obviously didn’t know the real reason you were here.

“rafe…” you gulp, looking at him with teary eyes as he shuts the door. “baby— y/n.” rafe corrects himself, remembering you aren’t his girlfriend anymore. “come on, let’s go upstairs” he says, holding your hand and guiding you to the stairs.

in the back of his mind, he knew the reason you were here. he was the one who replaced your birth control pills, after all. he knew you’d come running to him crying in no time. he smirks as he walks behind you going up the stairs. you can’t see his face, but he is proud. proud that his plan definitely worked. why else would you be here?

once you reached his bedroom, rafe shut the door behind you. “what’s up? come, sit” he says, walking over to his bed to sit down, patting the space next to him.

you walk over and join him on his bed, feeling oddly comforted by his behavior. he isn’t usually this soft with you, especially not when you’re going through a breakup. “rafe.. i, uh-” you stutter, trying to explain.

“i don’t know how to tell you this but uh…” you say, shaking and trembling as you slowly pull 3 positive pregnancy tests from your jacket pocket. rafe looks down at your hands as you reveal them to him.

“i’m pregnant.” the dreaded words came out of your mouth, expecting him to be angry, confused, or upset. but he wasn’t. he reached his hands to yours, gently taking the tests from you to see them for himself. you watched as a smile appeared on his face, shocking you a bit.

“you’re pregnant?” he asks, happy and shocked, pretending he had no idea this was coming. he stood up now, pacing around the room and sifting his hand through his hair, taking in the news that he was going to be a dad.

“yeah…” you say, sniffling and rubbing your nose. “baby, don’t be upset” he calmly says, his tone as soft as ever as he sits down next to you again, this time closer, pulling you into a side hug to comfort you.

“how can i not be upset?” you ask, tears falling down your face now. his smile suddenly dropped. “why are you upset?” he frowns now, pulling away from the hug, confused as if you were supposed to be happy or something.

“we’re not together, rafe. i don’t even know how i got fucking pregnant in the first place, i’m on birth control! i knew those damn things were a stupid scam” you quietly yell, like a loud whisper, letting out your frustration but not wanting the whole house to know your business.

rafe waits a few seconds before answering, watching you as you sob next to him. “were you on birth control?” he asks with a suspicious tone, making you frown your eyebrows and look at him. “what?” you ask, sniffling.

“you sure you were on birth control?” he asks with a smirk on his face now. what the fuck is he talking about? “rafe, what?” you ask again, widening your eyes and waiting for an answer.

“maybe, just maybe,” he starts, standing up from the bed to stand in front of you. “maybe what?” you start to get frustrated. “maybe i swapped your pills for fakes. maybe i didn’t” he shrugs, acting like it were no big deal. your face dropped.

“you did what?!” you yelled, standing up now, coming face to face with him. “what the fuck is the matter with you? why would you do that?!” you yell, demanding answers.

“because i want you back.” he simply answers, no other explanation.

“you want me back? so you get me pregnant?!” you’re yelling now, not caring if his family hears or not. “okay. will you take me back?” he asks, knowing your answer.

“no!”

“and that’s why i did it.”

he is cruel. he had this planned out for god knows how long. “rafe, what the fuck?!” you scream at him.

“having a baby with you means you’re stuck with me forever. and that’s what you get for running away from me. running off with the pogues” he smirks, leaning closer to your face to torment you. you harshly shove him away from you, making him angry.

“don’t fuckin’ do that” he shoves you back, much harder than you did, making you stumble backwards. “ow, rafe” you frown, about to hit him before he grabs your throat, squeezing it hard.

“don’t you ever fuckin’ push me like that” he warns as his fingers tighten around your neck, cutting off your ability to breathe properly. “rafe…” you struggle.

“i got you pregnant on purpose, baby. and you’re not gonna do anything about it. let this be a lesson to you” he roughly pushes you away by your throat, letting go of it as you gasp and catch your breath.

you look at him with quivering lips, tears forming in your eyes as you try to find words to say. “i-,” you huff. “you’re a fucking psychopath” you say, shaking your head at him as tears fall from your eyes.

“don’t call me that.” he raises his hand to you, making you flinch. you don’t say or do anything back, you just stand and cry as he looks at you, sighing loudly and rolling his eyes.

you couldn’t bare to be in the room with him anymore. “i’m leaving.” you say, attempting to walk past him but he steps in front of you, stopping you. “no, you’re not.” he tells you. “yes i am, rafe, now move” you try to push past him again, but he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him so that your bodies are against each other’s.

“why? so you can go get an abortion? get rid of my baby?” he asks, knowing that was likely your first thought. “you know what, yeah! i can’t have a fucking baby with you, rafe!” you start to yell again, making him grip you harder, his fingernails digging into your skin above your clothes.

“well, you are, so” he shrugs, making a face as if there was nothing else you could do, no other choice you had. “you seriously want a kid, with me? what do you even know about kids?” you ask, wanting to know his whole thought process behind this.

“i know i’d be a better father than mine ever was.” he says. “i doubt that” you scoff, finding his words amusing. “you doubt that? what, you think i’d do the same to my son what he did to me?” he asks, frowning, you both know his dad wasn’t the best. he had a favorite child, he cherished her, and didn’t acknowledge his other two — and look how that ended up.

“no, i don’t, rafe,” you sigh. “then why don’t you give me a chance?” he asks before you can finish speaking, making you sigh again. “because we’re supposed to love each other before we have a baby together, and that went away a long time ago for me…” you explain, knowing it would hurt his feelings but you wish he’d just sympathize with you for a second.

“i love you…”

“no you don’t, rafe.”

“yes i do”

you don’t say anything. you just accept the fact that he isn’t going to change his mind. you sigh, realizing you literally have no way out of this. you couldn’t tell anyone. your parents would be ashamed, they’d probably scream at you and kick you out of the house. then what? you’d be pregnant with nowhere to go.

the room fell silent for a second. you hear him huff through his nose. “y/n, i do love you. i promise you. i can show you that, i promise i’ll change and be better for you” he says, his grip still on your waist, but less aggressively now. he’s holding you now, just like how he used to.

but you’ve heard those words a thousand times. he never changes, and never keeps his promises. “rafe…” you gulp, not wanting this to happen. you don’t want his baby, you want to get rid of it. you can’t raise a baby, you’re not even 20 yet.

“baby, it’ll be alright. shh, come ‘ere” he says, pulling you into a hug when he notices you crying again. you quietly sob into his chest, feeling him reach his head down slightly.

his mouth was next to your ear. “you’re not gonna get rid of this baby, m’kay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine. his hug felt more like he was strangling you, you felt like you couldn’t breathe in his arms, or even in his presence.

“but—” you cry.

“shh…” he strokes your hair. “if you even try to get rid of it, i’ll do something i really don’t wanna do, okay?” he quietly threatens into your ear, gripping you tightly again to hurt you, with all intentions of hurting you worse if you go against his wishes, maybe even your friends, too. or your family. he’s going to teach you a lesson either way. sooner or later, you’ll be his.

PART 2 AHHHHH. part 1 got so many likes hellooooo???! thank you guys so much for supporting me!!! i’ve gained nearly 50 followers in just 2 days of posting! <3 i really hope you guys like this part, OFC rafe has to be as toxic as ever :)

@cameronluvr

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #toxic!rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe

[f1fnatic]

DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND! ⤿ m. verstappen 1

→ ( in which. . . ) you're at a dreaded sponsor event for redbull and find someone that resents them just as much as you do, if not more.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) max verstappen x fem!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mutual pining, fluff, cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, chr*stian ho*ner

→ ( authors note. . . ) woohoo! another fic done :p this is just one of the 17 (😀) drafts i have... anyways... hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

you wanted to leave. but you couldn't. you had always hated these types of stuck-up sponsor events. luckily, you noticed some body who hated them just as much as you.

you caught a glimpse of him before he was whisked away by one of the redbull higher-ups. his dirty blonde hair was easy to spot among the brunettes surrounding him.

you, unfortunately, were in the same boat. someone who you forgot the name of was talking your ear off, slurring something along the lines of it being beneficial for their brand if you were to join with them.

being a redbull athlete meant high expectations and a multitude of events. sometimes you were given a heads-up, but tonight you weren't. no, instead, this sponsorship party was sprung upon you by your manager 3 hours before it started. they blamed it on the fact that you were 'unbelievably busy' and 'it slipped their mind.' that put you in a sour mood. you were home, meaning that you had made plans with your family and friends that you had to regrettably cancel.

this man was getting on your last nerve. you could not handle another second of his borderline incoherent mumbling. so, you kindly excused yourself for a drink. you turned on your skinny heel and began to walk away. the corset of your dress digging into your ribs with every step. breathing was becoming a task with the tightening ties. instead of stopping at the bar, you continue walking towards the balcony.

rays of moonlight flood through the dauntingly tall glass doors. you step through the threshold and onto the unusually small balcony. the crisp air feels like a shot of espresso as you breathe in. it rejuvenates you. a light breeze sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps appearing in its wake. there isn't much decor on the platform. string lights are threaded through the railing, potted plants are set in each corner of the rectangular area, and a gas fireplace is placed to the left surrounded by cushioned chairs.

a figure is standing in front of you, body slumped over the rail. you walk over. once you get closer, you are met with the familiar face of max verstappen.

max knew who it was before you reached him. the clicking of your expensive heels on the concrete of the balcony gave you away. as did the cherry-vanilla perfume you adored so much as it wafted in the wind. he was infatuated by you. he very rarely got to see you in person, but when he did, he drank you in like a man starved. the pure beauty you held made him shrink within himself.

"i thought i saw you earlier." you comment. that was a partial lie. you didn't see him directly, but you felt him. you knew that he was there when his burning gaze was digging into the back of your head.

he only smiles. he knew you would be here, much to your dismay. he was almost considering telling christian that he fell ill and wouldn't be able to make it, but he couldn't risk not seeing you. max looked to you and you looked back, a sickeningly sweet smile on your pink tinted lips.

a comfortable silence blanketed the both of you. you had one arm laying atop the balcony rail while the right was propped on your cheek. the golden bracelets fell down your wrist and twinkled in the soft light. your gaze fastened on the breathtaking sight in front of you.

max stood beside you in a trance. everything about you had him head over heels in love (but he wouldn't admit that.) the way your hair softly blew in the breeze, the way your rich blue dress complimented every curve of your built body, and the way your eyes twinkled in the moonlight made butterflies flutter everywhere in his body. they started in his stomach then migrated to his toes and fingertips. he knew he was blushing and was bright red. but the small buzz he had going could be to blame.

you weren't sure when, but at some point your bodies grew closer. maybe it was just max, or maybe the both of you. but the added body heat began to slowly warm you up.

just like before, you could feel his intense, icy gaze burning into the side of your skull. "you're staring."

"i know. just enjoying the view." he replies simply. you turn to look at him, a shocked expression on your face. a light blush began to dust your cheeks.

"is that so?" you ask. he nods simply, closing his eyes and smiling. you playfully scoff before somberly adding, "you know you may grow tired."

"with you in front of me? never." he expresses. "truthfully y/n, if i could paint, you would be my muse. no doubt about it. i would never grow tired of looking at you. your beauty is simply awe inducing."

you were speechless. words escaped you and you were positive your blush got even darker. you shyly went to turn back to face the view but max's hand quickly found yours and tugged your body back to face him. he kept hold of your hand and interlaced your fingers with his.

"don't look away." he states. a heat began to bundle in your core. he had never talked to you this way, nor acted this way. you wish he would. there was something unreadable in his eyes, the bright blue darkening.

you silently stared at each other. neither of you daring to break eye contact. that is, until, the sound of someone clearing their throat made the two of you, unfortunately, separate. the lack of heat made the bitter cold even colder.

you turn your attention to the sound and are met with none other than christian horner. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything." he says smugly.

"nope, nothing at all." max responds, sheepishly sliding his hands into his pants pockets. christian stood in the door way, arms crossed like a doting father.

he acknowledges you with a simple "y/n." you respond with a nod. he then turns his attention back to max. "there's a sponsor wanting to talk to you. something about sunglasses. i told him i'd come and get you."

you look up to max and see him deflate a little. you gave him a sympathetic pout and patted him on the shoulder. "so then, let's go." christian pushes, annoyance laced into his tone. he turns to leave, returning inside just out of view of the glass doors.

max goes to follow, but now it was your turn to grab his hand and make him turn around. he does so enthusiastically. "don't leave me behind, yeah maxie?" you say moving your hands to his shoulders, locking your fingers behind his neck.

"i won't, i promise schatje." his hands went to rest on your hips. warmth radiated from his palms enveloping you in heat. the both of you started at one another, eyes locked and cheeks flushed, red like a sunburn.

max slowly moves in and you follow. the two of you always seemed to gravitate towards one another; like two galaxies yearning to twirl with each other.

you knew what he wanted, and he knew you wanted the same. blue eyes locked on your pink lips. instead of you connecting with his, you swerve and plant a kiss on his cheek; just at the intersection of skin and lip. your lipstick left a visible imprint almost like a stamp. his blue eyes twinkle and you smile. "you should go before horner grounds you."

max laughs before dropping his hands from your waist and you do the same. that same bitter cold returns but you knew it wouldn't last long, he would be back in no time.

"you'll still be out here, yeah?" he questions.

"i should, unless stephen hunts me down to talk to a sponsor."

"i'll find you before that." he winks. he bowed in front of you playfully. a laugh fell from your lips. god, he loved your laugh. he smiled at himself. turning on his heel he began retreating back inside. he turned to look over your shoulder, bidding you adieu.

there you stood, on the balcony, cheeks red, butterflies flying around restlessly throughout your body, yearning for the man that owned your heart.

first max fic! really happy with how this one turned out. AND OFF TOPIC BUT CHARLES FIRST GRAND PRIX WIN OF THE SEASON?? AND IT WAS MONACO?? OMG?? also, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

#+*. 🗃️f1fnatic's archives +*. #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 2023 #formula one #formula one imagine #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #blurb #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 #f1 fic #max verstappen #f1 fics #red bull racing #mv1 #mv33 #mv1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #max verstappen 33 #formula 1 imagine

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I asked my boyfriend to kick his boyfriend out of our communal living situation and out of our polycule due to “incompatibility”?

submitted 5/22/2024 ~💔🌈🏚️<- to find

I (26F) am considering asking my boyfriend O (32M) to kick out his other partner/boyfriend E (36M) from our communal living situation and our polycule, because E is not compatible with either our relationship or the group as a whole. Here’s the situation: The three of us currently live in O’s childhood home (his parents died and he inherited it), along with four other roommates who are not in the polycule. All of us split the bills evenly, except for E because he was recently fired from his job as a mechanic, so he pays a much smaller amount, which means all of us have to increase the amount we pay in order to keep up. This would be fine except E is not looking for a job and this is causing financial strain on all of us. It’s a large house and it’s very old so it tends to need a lot of maintenance, currently we have to get the roof repaired because a section of it caved in during a snowstorm (that part of the house is roped off because it’s still not fixed of course) and just my luck, my room happened to be on the floor below this, so O has me sleeping in his room because he’s worried floor above my room may have rotted from exposure due to the caved in roof. This will be relevant later. Now, here are the specific reasons why I want E out of here (aside from financial strain):

Everyone in the house is part of the same religious group. We are a neo pagan group (details not necessary for this but feel free to ask questions, but just know that we have some agreed upon beliefs and practices that we’ve developed over the past three years) and many in our group, including O, practice witchcraft. E, however, is a hardcore atheist, and is condescending towards us whenever we partake in our various practices. O thinks that E can be persuaded to respect us and that it’s just a matter of time, but I do not think that’s probable. O is the elected spiritual leader in the house (one: because he’s held these beliefs longer than most of us and brought us together, and two: it’s his house), so only O can kick someone out for religious reasons. We can vote to kick someone for abuse, but nothing E has done is technically bad enough.

He should be kicked from the polycule because I think he is using O either for sex or to make up for something he did back when they were in a situationship. The past between those two is very intense because it’s linked to E discovering his identity and it was O’s first relationship. It ended very badly on horrible terms, but they decided to give it another shot for whatever reason. E had an intense vendetta against me from the very beginning and he thinks that I’m delusional for believing O is in love with me because when O liked E it was “very different”. E has his own bedroom, but spends most of the time in O’s room, typically to have sex. Sometimes they want me to join in with them, but I usually decline because I’m suspicious of E’s intentions and I do not trust him. The one time I did agree to join in led to my unplanned pregnancy. I also think E is cheating on O because whenever O leaves the house, E brings over his ex B (33F), and those two hook up (or at least I assume they do because they lock themselves in the bedroom for hours).

On the cheating note, E has been getting checks in the mail from B, but he hasn’t been using this money to contribute to the bills, but rather stashing it away into a “project fund”.

B is dating my ex A (28F) and I know B has been gossiping to her because A has been posting to her private insta account long rants about “another perfectly good lesbian turned by dicks and witchcraft”, which could ONLY be referring to me because as far as I know, she hasn’t had any relationships in between ours and her’s and B’s. She is radfem and tradcatholic so the statement isn’t a surprise, but she only started posting that stuff After B started coming over, and she was kicked from the house for being intolerant, so it’s odd for her to start ranting about me now.

I think it’s unfair that my ex was kicked out for intolerance while I was still dating her, even though I objected (it was a toxic relationship and I was in deep), but O hasn’t kicked out E despite E also being intolerant and dating one of us.

#aita #am i the asshole

[teenytinyjimin]

baroque (j. jungkook)

summary: masquerade balls are all fun and games until you meet that one person that you feel like you’ve known for a lifetime, but regardless as to who he is, you can’t just let him go.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.4k

tags: masquerade, mystery, academia/renaissance/baroque (i know these are all different but its a little combination), ballroom dancing, reader is absolutely in love with this mystery man she’s dancing with, and he’s kinda in love with her too, spoiler: they know each other, kissing of course!

warnings: none

author’s note: IM BACK! IM SO SORRY BUT IM BACK! anyways i hope u guys enjoy! my last kook fic got a lot of traction so thank u so much <3 so i hope this is up to par with that one :)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

As you stood at the steps to the entrance of one of the largest ballrooms in town, you took a deep sigh. This wasn't a sigh of distress, however, it was more of a sigh of anticipation.

Balls weren't necessarily a thing of the 21st century. Had it been, say, four-hundred or five-hundred years prior, a ball would be the talk of the town and absolutely everyone would be flooding into the ballroom to have the time of their lives dancing with one another. Alas, it was 2024, and the only people you'd see attending a ball nowadays would be people who are actively interested in Renaissance and Baroque culture and seek rare events pertaining to such.

There was something about these classical time periods that felt ageless and beautiful to you. The big gowns, glimmering jewels, and elaborate ballroom designs were absolutely gorgeous. So of course you were going to indulge in as much classical beauty as possible in modern times. And that meant going to balls whenever you could (or, in other words, whenever you were able to hear about them through the grapevine).

So here you were, in your elaborate Renaissance dress, staring at the entrance ahead of you. This particular ball was a masquerade ball, so it was even more exciting considering the fact that most everyone would be anonymously dancing behind beautifully decorated masks. You looked down at your own mask in hand, a beautiful and ornate piece strewn with jewels, glitter, and feathers. You had spent the last week perfecting the mask and had gone through nearly a dozen prototypes before you created what you thought was the best piece of work you had ever done in your twenty-something years of living. It was beautiful, and it would do a perfect job of hiding exactly what needed to be hidden to make this masquerade a true mystery for you.

Fastening the mask over your head and onto your face, you began to ascend the steps and enter the ballroom. As anticipated, the venue was covered in beautiful Renaissance artwork and ornate chandeliers. The marble pillars holding the place together really brought everything to life as they echoed the Roman influence that they possessed into the large room. Ahead of you was a sea of elaborate gowns and tuxedos, all spinning around in harmony as they danced with one another to the beautiful orchestral music that played.

"A glass of champagne, miss?" A voice called out from next to you. You looked over to see a masked waiter with a tray of champagne flutes in his hand. You gave him a polite nod and curtsy as you took a glass from him. Champagne wasn't necessarily your drink of choice, however you needed something to keep you company while you waited for a good opportunity to join the dancing or, alternatively, until you were asked to dance.

As you approached the floor of the ball, navigating through the sea of dancing people, you attempted to find someone you may have recognized. Sure, masquerades made it rather difficult to identify a person and thus it was quite hard to know if you knew anyone anyway, but it was worth a shot for the sake of socializing. For the most part, everyone seemed pretty invested in their partners, committing to the elaborate ballroom dance that was taking place to the sound of a piano and violin.

Within a matter of moments, you suddenly found yourself on the ground as you had accidentally run directly into another individual. You looked up to see a gloved hand reach down to you, begging for your touch so that it could help you to your feet once again. As you obliged, you realized the body to which the hand was connected was much stronger than you had anticipated as you practically flew back to your feet. A little lightheaded from the rush of movement, you swayed for a moment and tried to find your footing, but the hand that previously helped you was now firmly on your waist as a form of support.

You brushed off your dress once you found yourself more stable, a bright red blush creeping to your cheeks. "I'm so sorry-" You began before looking up to the person in front of you. Something about his presence left you fascinated – He was tall with wide shoulders and toned arms, something you could immediately notice through his tight-fitting shirt. Despite being fit to his body, his shirt was beautiful and contained all sorts of frills and jewels. Only one of his hands were gloved, as the other one was covered in bracelets and rings of a particularly ornate design. He had the most beautiful chain necklaces wrapped around his neck which perfectly suited his beautiful jawline, which was both sharp and soft at the same time. His lips, a perfect amount of plump, were curled into a soft smile which made him a lot less intimidating than he seemed. When you finally saw his eyes, you were met with the most beautiful black orbs that were wide with wonder and amazement. You could've sworn that you've seen those eyes somewhere, as they reminded you of all the comfort you had ever felt in your life, but you couldn't quite put them to a face you recognized. Though this man's face was hidden behind a beautiful mask, you could tell that he was breathtaking in every sense of the word.

"Are you okay?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you. There was no way you were going to escape his gaze, not because he wouldn't let you but also because you didn't want to. You nodded softly as you continued awkwardly brushing off your dress, unsure of how to speak to the man in front of you. The soft smile that was once on his face now grew to a more toothy grin as he took your hand in his and gently pressed your knuckles to his lips. "If you'd like to make it up to me, I'd love to dance with you."

How were you meant to say no to him? Besides the fact that he had quite literally left you speechless, everything about him was absolutely gorgeous and you'd never turn down an offer to dance with someone like him. As you once again responded with a nod, you felt as he used the hand he had wrapped around your waist to guide you further into the crowd of people and to a more open area where you could properly dance. Once there, he pulled you slightly closer to him as he took your hand in his free one. You naturally placed your other hand upon his bicep, which was tense under your touch, and he began to guide you into a waltz-style dance. It felt as if this came naturally to him as you effortlessly swayed around. You continued to stare into his beautiful doe eyes which shimmered with fantasy as they quite literally pierced into your soul. Whoever this man was, he was perfect in every sense of the word. He was just so perfect.

"You look absolutely stunning, by the way. I'm not sure if I mentioned that," He said after a moment, causing you to blush and look away. "I could say the same about you," You responded quietly, letting yourself feel the air around you blow through your hair. "Thank you for helping me up, by the way. This dress is difficult to maneuver in when you're on the ground."

"It's my pleasure. After all, we bumped into each other. I had an obligation. I wasn't going to let a beautiful girl fend for herself on the ground as a bunch of people danced all over her." You looked back over to him and let out a soft giggle, watching as a grin rose to his face. Something about him was just so warm and inviting, yet you couldn't put your finger on what it was. Perhaps you two knew each other in a past life, one in which you were actually attending balls together in the Renaissance.

"I bet you call a lot of girls at these sorts of things beautiful. I mean, look at you." You say in a teasing tone, watching as his grin dropped to a smirk. "Bold of you to assume that I go to these dances very often, miss." He lets out a soft sigh as he continues to effortlessly sway you around, refusing to stop staring at you. "But even if I did, you're the most breathtaking of them all. Honest."

You remove your hand from his as you bring both hands to rest on the back of his neck, attempting to push yourself closer to him so you can talk a little quieter. "You seem like a pro, do you really not go to balls very often?" He shrugs under your touch as he wraps both arms around your waist, holding you tightly. "Not really. This is my first time coming to this place at least. I'm more of a contemporary dancer."

"Ah, I see," You say softly, letting one of your hands feel at the hair on the back of his neck. He lets out a hitched breath at your touch but continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "It's a beautiful venue, though. It feels like we're in the 1700s and not the 2000s." He comments, looking up briefly at the chandelier above the two of you. You couldn't help but agree. Sometimes when you go to events like these you forget about the chaos of life and pretend that you're still in the Renaissance, which is beautiful in and of itself.

"Have you been on the balcony yet? It has a beautiful view of the city if you want to go take a look," You propose, looking back down at the man in your arms. You watch as his eyes soften and a small smile grows on his lips, pulling away so he can offer you his hand. "You lead the way," He says as you take your hand in his and gently pull him away from the crowd.

As soon as you reached the fresh air of the empty balcony, the two of you stood in silence as you admired the shimmering lights of the city in front of you. "Wow..." He muttered, clearly surprised at the sight in front of him. "You can see pretty much everything from here. How is that possible?" You approach the railing of the balcony and lean against it, taking a moment to look around. "The ballroom is on a hill, even though it doesn't really feel like it. It's actually above the rest of the town so the balcony is able to look down on everything around us."

"I hate to say it, but it seems like I might have found something more beautiful than you." Letting out a small gasp, you turn around to face the man behind you, noticing a huge grin on his face. You smile in return. "I guess I don't blame you. A good view beats a pretty face any day."

"Mmm." He hums, approaching you slowly. He secures his hands on your waist as he picks you up with ease and places you on the railing, keeping contact with you at all times to ensure that you don't fall. Once you are steady on the railing he wraps both arms around you and presses himself tightly to you for extra support, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to stay safe. "I'm only joking anyway. I don't think it's possible to be more beautiful than you."

"Well, I think you're living proof of that, because you're definitely more beautiful than me," You mumble as the distance between your faces becomes much shorter than it once was. He lets out a breathy laugh as he removes one of his arms from your waist and attaches his hand to your face, stroking it gently before closing the gap completely and bringing you in for a kiss.

Kissing someone under the stars is one thing, but kissing someone mysteriously under the stars is another thing. You have no idea who this man is, you don't even know his name, yet here you are, lips connected to his. This is perhaps the best kiss you have ever experienced, as he is so soft yet so passionate with his movements. He never once lets go of you with his other hand, keeping you secure on the railing so that you don't accidentally slip. The one on your face is so soft and gentle, holding onto your face in the most perfect way. It is only now that you are able to really breathe in his scent, an obviously expensive cologne that you would kill to drown in at this point. He was consuming every part of you and you wanted him and only him.

The two of you pulled away briefly so that he could stare into your eyes for a moment. "You really are breathtaking," He mumbled, fiddling with the bottom edge of your mask. As he began to slowly pull it off of your face, you watched as his expression went from lovestruck to shocked. It looked as if seeing your face without the mask scared him. He didn't like how you looked.

"I'm sorry-" You begin to say, tears welling up in your eyes. However he stops you as he takes his own mask off, revealing a face that you could never forget. Jeon Jungkook. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had a crush on for years several years ago. He wasn't disgusted by how you looked. He was shocked that it was you.

"Jungkook?" You said breathlessly, unable to say anything beyond his name. He only stared at you in response, unsure of what his own next move would be. This wasn't something you had ever expected. Not the whole 'kissing your childhood best friend' part, but the fact that somehow in an event of anonymity, you would find your way to each other. And now that you have shared this night together, it's almost as if all the feelings you ever felt for him over the years have flooded back to you as you once again felt head-over-heels for him.

Finally, you watched as a toothy smile returned to his face. He placed his hand once again on your cheek and brushed it as you watched him admire your features. "Thank god it's you. I've been waiting for this moment for years," He mumbled before pulling you in again for another kiss.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jk fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jk fanfiction

[possamble]

trying to get kiki's characterization right (at the same time as navigating a falin who's gotten into a tense situation with people she doesn't know very well AND without the assistance of laios or marcille) is highkey kicking my ass ngl

#a little creature #i did just settle on a comedic icebreaker end to the conversation instead of going the full blown drama route bc i got tired #but now im wondering if that's a copout #like wouldn't falin react more strongly to this considering how i built it up??? #but it's been like two months and im at 8-9k and im TIRED i want this chapter to be done #i can't think about it anymore. im settling on quirky joke and feelgood moment followed by quieter conversation later on #and if it seems like falin has a crush on kiki because of the way im describing her. so be it. i can't be bothered trying to control that #we're all gay here you know what you were signing up for. #also sorry i'll get around to answering asks and messages in a bit i just legit. #didn't realize how many days were passing. insomnia + time blindness hardcore got me these past few weeks

[blerb-f1]

"Lost" - Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Charles celebrates too hard and gets lost. More news at 6

Find more on my masterlist!

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“Sir?”

“Sir!”

“Wah?”

Charles awoke as he felt his shoulder getting ruffled, eyes dry and hurting. His throat was dry.

“Sir, please get up. This train is finished cleaning, you have to leave”

‘Train?’, he wondered in confusion. Hadn't he just been celebrating his win in Monaco? He took a look at the person shaking him. She was a train attendant, pretty looking he might add. Her uniform was not flattering the least. A light blue t-shirt with a dark blue vest thrown over it. Her accent was german. He attempted to get out of his seat but stumbled, bad leg control.

She supported his shoulder. 

“Where am I?”

“Far off from any kind of civilisation you'd normally travel to, based on that watch on your arm” the attended reported. “The middle of nowhere, in Germany.”

Charles held his head. “I don't remember getting on this train at all.”

She looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, you had all the necessary tickets for your journey. Must have gotten them from somewhere.”

Together they walked outside of the train. The train station was small, one white painted building. Only two tracks, lot's off trees.

“Have you got anywhere to go to?”

Charles looked at her, thinking. Fumbling around his pocket resulted in nothing, his phone and wallet were gone. Shit.

“Apparently not. Let's just get going. You can stay the night with me, I've got space.”

“Can't I just take this train back to where I'm from?” Charles asked her in desperation.

“Good Joke, truly. This train runs every two hours during the day. And then you'd have to take more trains, none of which usually run in the night as well. Also, I've had a long day of work. I'm really, really beat up.”

Charles sighed. ‘What did I just get myself into? The people saying to not mix uppers and downers were right…’

She led him to her Car, a little silver Hyundai. Throwing her backpack in and settling into the driver's seat, she sighed in relief. “Finally done.”

“Done?”

“I've got the weekend off. Your arrival kinda ruined it but we gotta take the things as they come. I'm Y/N L/N. You?”

“Charles Leclerc”

“That sounds French”

“Monegasque”

“What? I don't know that word”

“I'm from Monaco!”

She looked at him in surprise.  “Now you're pulling my leg. You got here from MONACO? You must have taken like 10+ trains!”

“Urgs, not so loud. My head hurts”

“God.” She groaned as she inserted the car key, starting the little engine. “Move your hand”

“Huh?”

“Either you move your hand or you loosen the handbrake. I can't get it with you spreading over there”

Charles quickly lifted his arms in the air. “Isn't it Electric?”

She just looked at him exasperated. “Do I look like I'm shitting money? I can't afford a car that new. Unless you'd wanna pay one Mr. Money Bag over there.”

“Oi, that's rude”

“You're from Monaco, don't y'all bath in money and champagne? Now, let's just get going.”

The car ride was silent with Charles looking out of the windows. This really was the countryside. Trees, fields, cows and horses. Lots of half-timbered houses.

After half an hour of journey, with them passing over roads he'd never even classify as those, considering the many holes and breaks they finally reached a large property. A large half timbered house with a similar looking barn and a long building houses garages presented itself to him. She parked the Hyundai in one of the Garages, the smaller one to be exact, and stepped outside.

Charles followed her as she unlocked the front door, revealing a house with small-ish rooms with low height walls painted weight. The most color each room spotted was oak- all the furniture and floor were oak. He had never been in a house like this before.

“Stair up, the left room is the bathroom. Soap's there, go shower. I'll put clean clothes and towels in front of the door for you.”

“Shower?” 

“Sorry …Charlie. You stink. Long journey and all”

“Ah, I'm so sorry! I'll go shower immediately!”

Charles stepped into the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the ground. The second they left his body he noticed the less than stellar stench of sweat, alcohol and weed stuck on them. The water hitting his skin felt heavenly, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt he never thought could amass so quickly. The water was different, as well. It didn't smell of chlorine as much, more like iron instead. Nonetheless, only after the shower did he realize what a stinky guy he had become. The clothes laid in front of the door were oversized on him. Some red, used polo shirt and cargo pants with frayed edges awaited him. Downstairs in the Kitchen, Y/N had changed into casual wear, foot already served on the table. Charles settled into the chair, staring at the provided meal. “What, you’re not hungry?” she asked him, tauntingly. “I don’t know how to eat this” he had to state.

“Look”, she said. The table was covered in two plates, each having a solid kind of bun laid on it and a pot with sausages swimming around. She took her knife, cutting a slit into the Bun. “Take the Brötchen-”, she then grabbed a fork and fished out a sausage, putting it into the ‘Brötchen’, “then put the sausage in there. "That's it.”

“Nothing else?” Charles asked, pretty confused.

“Yeah, simple meal you know. "Nothing fancy.”

“Hm.”

They ate silently, with Charles being confused at how hard that Brötchen was. He slept in the living room that night. The house didn’t have blinds but there were no street lights to keep him awake. Instead pure silence, something he never encountered anywhere. It was almost blissful - until the sun woke him up at 6AM and the birds were singing really loudly. He heard a loud mechanical noise and a cupboard clinking, then Y/N appeared in the doorway, offering a mug. “Coffee.”

The cup of coffee was hot, very nice.

“We’ll go to the electronics store to get you a phone, so that you can get your stuff in order. I can’t get you onto a plane without documents.”

“Aight.”

“Are we there soon?”

“Sorry mate, nothing’s close by.”

Driving to the electronic store took over half an hour and as they finally arrived, no grand palace was awaiting him. It was a dinky old little store, the bottom floor housing washing machines, fridges and vacuums. The upstairs was mostly TVs and DVDs, the phones tucked into the corner. Charles approached the few iPhones they had there, playing around with them.

“Dude, pick something cheaper”

"Why?" I’d just buy something that lasts.”

Y/N looked at him in annoyance. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to pay me back. That stupid phone is like a third of my monthly income. I can’t afford that.”

“A third?”, he asked in shock.

“Yeah, train attendants don’t earn much. Tickets want to be cheap right? Also…” she added. “We gotta get you a limited plan. Since you don’t have an ID, I have to be the owner. We should get a monthly one so that i can cancel it later.”

He simply agreed, settling on one heck of a cheap phone.

“Finally.” he sighed, installing his social media apps and creating a new WhatsApp profile. Contact to the outside world could be established.

“I need to call my team.”

“Please do, i bet they’re worried sick”

Charles leaned against the door as Y/N settled inside, as he heard the familiar call beep. Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in a while returned from the speaker.

“Who’s there?”, asked his friend, Andrea Ferrari.

“It’s me, Charles!”

"Charles?!" Where the fuck have you been ? We were so worried about you!”

“So fun story, i apparently took multiple trains and am now somewhere randomly in Germany. And I lost my wallet along with my phone.”

“Somewhere in Germany and no identification… Can you rent a car?”

“No, since I obviously have no ID, right?”

"Ah, shit. How’d you get a phone?”

“A train attendant took me in and bought it, but she can’t really afford more than that.”

Andrea seemed to think for a moment. “What if we send her money and she drives you back?”

“That sounds like a moronic, stupid journey…”

Shortly afterwards, Y/N made large eyes as insane amounts of cash appeared on her bank account. She didn’t believe that Charles actually was rich, especially not that he was an F1 Driver. For Ferrari as well! The Michael Schumacher Ferrari! She was quick to convince however, as a paid vacation like that sounded like a nice idea. They headed to the car dealership which also rented cars.

“Hyundai, again?” Charles complained.

Y/N just stared at him. “I know a guy there, the only spot where they won’t scam you.”

She had picked a car that looked quite similar to hers, just a bit longer with more horsepower. “I don’t like driving big cars. Want some power for the Autobahn though.” Charles whined in Response:” Can’t I drive? Pretty please? I haven't driven a car in a while~”

“Do you currently have a physical license?”

“No”

“Then shut up. I'd lose my license if we were to get caught. My car takes me to work, no options without”

He wanted to pout in response but that had quickly become not an option. The drive was sheer madness. Y/N was running on hopes and energy drinks, pushing the little car to its limit. Charles was gripping every piece of interieur he physically could as she drove at max speed for every stretch she could. Google had estimated the journey to take 13 hours, she shaved off 2 of them. He made a note of never saying that women were the calmer drivers. Blasting loud techno music that turned into a monotonous drone combined with the engine screaming as German countryside flew past him, only interrupted by gas station breaks.

Sweet, sweet silence they proved to be. A heaven of calm, shoved tightly between what most likely was an out-of-body experience.

Then, silence, white doves and heavenly goodness stopped: the return of techno. Y/N throwing the Car around Italy’s shit roads, ignoring all laws of traffic ever created. One goal in Mind: Maranello.

With the crack of dawn and the first worker’s arriving to open the doors, they saw something they had never seen in their long career. A crazed car coming to a full stop, brakes glowing hot directly in front of them. Passenger side flung open and their golden treasure stepping out. Il Predestino had returned, he had risen from the dead. 

And was vomiting against a tree.

“Aren’t you F1 Drivers supposed to be tough or something?”

Charles tiredly leaned against said tree, face free of blood. “We’re tough but not tough like that. I can survive a long ass GP but not 11 hours of insanity”

The crazed driver laughed, her whole body shaking. She approached him, forcefully shaking his hand. “It was nice to get to know you, big boy. I want to go to sleep now, hit me up if you want to visit Germany again.” Y/N shoved a slip of paper between his tightly pressed fingers and walked off as an employee showed her the way. She was to stay somewhere close by as some NDAstuff needed to be handled now.

On the other side, more people were approaching. Charles' friends, the team and the media. Maybe Germany was actually a nice spot to vacation in. Without all the circus going on here. When was the winter break again?

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I pinky promise that i WILL continue this since i wrote it for my friend acexf1 over on YouTube. It's more set-up than anything rn. My other stuff is also getting continuations now!

#f1 x reader #blerb writes #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

[actual-changeling]

Scully comes back to her apartment after her abduction, and sure, it's all clean and tidy, but it's also incredibly empty. Mulder has been visiting her almost constantly, and her skin itches with the need for his presence.

She considers calling him. She considers asking him to come over. She considers driving over herself. Then again, she's been taking up enough of his time—he must be glad to finally have some hours to himself.

It's early in the afternoon, but she's exhausted, so she drops her bag in her bedroom and is about to close the blinds when something catches her eye.

Draped over a chair is one of Mulder's t-shirts that was definitely NOT there before. She briefly thinks about washing it and giving it back to him until she realises what it being here means in the first place.

The shirt still smells like him, like his laundry detergent, like HER laundry detergent, and something she knows to be just Mulder.

("He hasn't been sleeping," her mother had told her, and he'd certainly looked the part. Yet every time he came by, he ended up dozing off for at least an hour or two, seemingly lulled to sleep by her voice and her fingers carding through his hair.)

Maybe it should bother her, but somehow, it doesn't. Even though she will never admit it, she would have done the same; in a different universe, she spent three months curled up on his couch with her eyes wide open.

The fabric is soft against her cheek, and it helps calm the paranoia enough for her to change and slide into bed, the shirt held tightly in her grasp. Before she can turn off the light, the phone on her nightstand rings, and she knows it's him. It's always him.

"I just wanted to check in, make sure you got home safe," Mulder says quietly, and she clicks off her bedside lamp and presses the receiver to her ear.

"I'm okay, just tired and about to try to sleep," she replies, and her voice sounds almost gentle. In the dark, with her nose buried in the familiar-unfamiliar fabric and hearing his breaths, she can almost pretend he's right there with her.

"I'll be here if you—if you need anything."

"I know." She does. She really, really does.

When she dreams, it's about him.

———

still thinking about one breath, and there are at least 2 half-written fics in my wip folder. send help.

#alex writes x files #txf #the x files #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #scully x mulder #mulder x scully #msr #msr ficlet #txf fanfic

[mulloey]

the new girl • ateez

ateez gets a new pet

warnings: bdsm au. dom!ateez, sub!reader, use of bdsm terms but they’re not hard to figure out, more experienced ateez, rewards and punishments, bdsm training, impact play, pet play, praise and degradation, cocky & patronising ateez, implied bisexual reader, orders, naked female & clothed males, finger blasting, anal play, oral (f receiving), mouth fucking (with fingers), voyeurist ateez at times, taking turns, no penetrative sex. everything you’d expect from a bdsm au tbh

A few days ago you could never have pictured yourself in this situation, or any like it, for that matter. But here you are, in a private room of a bar in Gangnam with eight men who seem genuinely interested in making you their submissive. How their even knew you were into that kind of thing is a mystery — or would be a mystery, were it not for your smug looking best friend behind the bar who’s been talking for months about setting you up with some of the people who patronise these rooms and make little secret (to the staff, at least) of what they use them for. But to your friend’s credit, she’s managed to pick, out of what you’re sure has to be scores of creeps and weirdos, eight extremely attractive, extremely interested men.

“We usually find our partners through matching sites and meet them here for the first time,” they’d explained, “but we’ve been out of luck recently, so we thought we’d try to find someone the old fashioned way. And when your friend behind the bar told us what a natural submissive you are, we knew we had to meet you for ourselves.”

You’d blushed at that, both at their words and the fact that your friend had so wantonly offered you up like that. But it’s true that you’re naturally submissive, and she has reason to know it; in college you’d done casual scenes a few times with her, and though you never ventured much further than whips and chains and yes ma’ams, the little you had explored was enough to show you and her just how submissive you are, and want to be. And if she trusts these strange men, who surround you like predators and stare at you like prey, then so do you.

They seem to have heard the stories too, of just how easily you’d caved when she praised you or ordered you around, and they definitely seem to like those stories. And even though you’re essentially being interrogated for your suitability as what some would call a sex slave, you feel comfortable and at ease with them, which you didn’t even know was possible in a scenario like this. So when they ask if you’d like to meet again to explore this further, you don’t even bother to blame the wine for how quickly you agree.

They offer to squeeze you into their cars to drive you home but you decline, insisting it’s not worth the trouble. With a half-joking you won’t be ordering us around for much longer they call you a cab, bidding you farewell with a quick hug each. The leader, Hongjoong, adds his contact to your phone and slips a black business card into your back pocket.

“I’ll see you soon, puppy,” he smiles.

Over the next few weeks you text and call back and forth with the men. They’re kind, unexpectedly patient and gentle considering the type of relationship you’re quickly moving towards with them. In just your luck, their schedules take them out of the country two days after your first meeting, and by the time they’re back and have enough time off to give you the attention they want to, you’ve known them for a couple of months, and like them, you’re impatient to start.

But ever the careful and responsible dominants, they insist on a few more in-person meetings with each individual member — “for your safety, puppy, and ours,” they say — before you finally get the call you’ve been waiting for.

“Hi, honey,” Hongjoong greets. “Are you ready to start?”

——————

Days later, you meet them again in a cafe in Gangnam. It’s a pretty unique set-up for a cafe, a little darker and more ambient than most, but it suits the purpose of your meeting well. You spot them quickly, huddled around a table in the far corner of the room and they see you too, waving you over. It’s only four of them, you note, not the eight you’d met the last time. They stand to allow you the choice of where to sit and you choose a seat at the edge. You know them fairly well and have no doubts of their intentions, but you know you’ll feel more at-ease knowing you can get up and leave quickly if needed. The others settle in, Yeosang next to you, Seonghwa and Hongjoong opposite, and Jongho at the end. Their gazes are fixed on you and just as intense as you remember them.

“Uh…” you start. “Where are the others?”

“We thought it’d be better if less of us came this time,” Hongjoong explains. “To make it less overwhelming for you.”

“It’s something we should have considered last time,” Seonghwa adds. “We apologise that we didn’t.”

You smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you say.

“It’s not,” Jongho says, “but it won’t happen again. Did you bring everything we asked?”

You nod, reaching into your jacket pocket to pull out a crumpled sheet of paper with everything you’d been told to pack. “I think so,” you say as your eyes move down the list. “Yes, I think I remembered it all.”

“We’ll see later,” Seonghwa smiles. “It’s not a problem if you didn’t, though. You tried your best and you’re new to this.”

The others hum in agreement and you smile nervously.

“You even wrote it all out, didn’t you?” Jongho says, gesturing to the list in your hands. “Good girl.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Would you like me to explain the plan for this week?” Hongjoong asks gently.

You nod, staring down at your hands as they fiddle in your lap. A larger hand comes to rest atop them, holding them still and you look up to meet Yeosang’s firm gaze on you. “Look at him and answer him properly, sweetheart,” he says, gentle but stern.

You nod, feeling stupid and look up at to see Hongjoong staring expectantly at you. “Yes please,” you say and he smiles, easing up.

“Good girl,” he praises. You blush, bowing your head in embarrassment and Yeosang clicks his tongue, wordlessly chastising you. You mumble an apology and meet Hongjoong’s gaze, who praises you again. “Think of it as a trial run, yeah? We want you, we know that, but we need to see how it will work. What kind of arrangement will suit you best.”

You nod in understanding. Yeosang releases your hands from his grip but you grab his arm as he starts to move it away, needing someone to hold onto while you digest it all. He smiles and takes your hand back in his, squeezing it gently. “Good girl,” he mumbles.

“Are you with us so far?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yes,” you say.

“Good,” he smiles. “So for this week, we’ll all be getting to know each other and getting used to our new dynamic. We’ll start figuring out the kind of submissive you are and the kind of training you’ll need. That make sense to you?”

You nod a little dazily, starting to feel overwhelmed. None of these words are new to you, of course, even in this context, but they’ve never been so real to you before. To be spoken about like a pet, a submissive in need of training, is a lot to take in. It’s also strangely, embarrassingly thrilling. “It makes sense,” you confirm. Your voice catches in your throat at first but if they notice, they don’t care. Maybe they enjoy it.

“What, um…” you trail off, feeling awkward, but a nudge from Yeosang encourages you. “What happens at the end of the week?”

The men share a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Well,” Hongjoong says, “it’ll be up to you. If you’re happy with how things are going and want to commit, you can stay with us. You’ll keep your own place, of course, but we’ll move the things that you’ll need to our place and start making it your main residence.”

“But if you want to take it slower,” Jongho continues, “which is always an option, I might add, we’ll take you home and continue getting to know you more casually, just like how you would in a normal relationship.”

“And of course, ending our arrangement entirely is an option too,” Yeosang adds. “At any time.”

The others voice their agreement and you smile gratefully. “Thank you,” you say. “I’ll remember that.”

The oldest two smile, sharing a look before Seonghwa speaks. “If you’re ready,” he says, “there are four people at home waiting very patiently for your arrival.”

—————

Their home is large, in a nice, quiet area of the city where little could disturb — or be disturbed by — you. Your bags are carried by Jongho as Seonghwa leads you by the hand to the front door. Before he can even get the keys out of his pocket, the door swings open, revealing an excited looking San standing eagerly in the doorway. “Hi, baby,” he beams at you.

“Were you watching from the window?” Seonghwa asks. San nods unashamedly and the elder mumbles something that he ignores.

“Come in, baby,” San says. “We’re waiting inside. Can I take her in, Seonghwa?”

“It’s up to her,” Seonghwa says, smiling down at you. “She can make her own decisions. For now.”

For now. His words dizzy you slightly and you can practically see the evil plans forming behind San’s eyes. He offers his hand and you take it, turning to Seonghwa. “Are you coming too?” You ask.

He smiles fondly, shaking his head. “We’re gonna get everything set up in your room for you first, honey. San’ll take care of you.”

You nod with slight uncertainty but allow San to lead you through to the living room. The set up is… interesting, you think. A massive TV, typical for a house of men, surrounded by black leather couches and chairs arranged almost in a circle. The coffee table’s been moved from its spot in the middle, leaving it, or so you have a funny feeling, open for you to be displayed to them. Just the sight of the arrangement has you feeling like prey, but what’s more intimidating is the man on the couch who looks up with interest when you walk in. He smiles kindly as he stands to greet you, but you see the look in his eyes. Without them saying anything to you, it’s clear what your place is just from the way these men look at you. You’re their toy, and they’re your owners.

“There she is,” the man — Wooyoung, you remember — breathes. “Hi, doll.”

You wave shyly at him and he smiles. “Cute,” he says.

“You remember all our names, right?” San asks and you nod. “Good girl.”

“Bring her over here, Sannie,” Wooyoung says. San nods and guides you over to sit on the couch, sandwiched between him and Wooyoung.

“Can I touch you?” Wooyoung asks. You nod and he smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek. Without realising and almost instinctively, you nuzzle into his touch and he coos, stroking your cheek gently. “You’re such a puppy, aren’t you?” He hums. If you’d been confident enough to meet his gaze, you’d have seen the dark, predatory look in his eyes.

“Wooyoung,” you whine, embarrassed. He coos again and you blush deeper, hiding your face from view.

“She’s going under already,” San chuckles. “Such a natural, aren’t you baby?”

“Already toying with her, are we?” Someone interjects. You look up to see Yunho in the doorway, staring amusedly at the scene in front of him. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

“I can’t help it, Yunho,” Wooyoung replies. “She’s so pliant.”

Yunho cocks an eyebrow, taking a few steps towards you. “Is she?”

“Just so easy,” San affirms, running a hand through your hair. “Such a darling puppy.”

You moan softly at the sensations of the men on each side of you running their hands over your body. Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sure,” he smiles. “Do you think she’s ready?”

San and Wooyoung share a look and you stare at them quizzically. “Ready for what?” You ask quietly.

Wooyoung smiles down at you fondly. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says. He looks up at Yunho. “I think she is. Where’s Hongjoong?”

“Here,” comes a familiar voice. Hongjoong emerges from behind Yunho, his eyes finding you the moment he walks into the room. “Hey, bunny.”

You like that name. “Hi,” you squeak.

He smiles like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen before turning his gaze to Wooyoung. “What did you want me for?”

“I didn’t,” Wooyoung says snappily. Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “We were wondering if you think she’s ready yet.”

His older’s eyes widen slightly but he seems to consider it for a second. “If Seonghwa agrees,” he decides. “Then so do I. I thought we’d wait a few more hours, but…”

“Yeah, not happening,” Yunho says. “It’ll be a tall order keeping these two off of her until then.”

The men beside you glare at him but don’t refute his words. You still don’t know exactly what it is you’re meant to be… ready for, but it sounds important. You wonder what it is that Hongjoong won’t agree to without the elder’s assent.

“Do you know where Seonghwa is?” San asks. “And the others?”

“In her room, I think,” Hongjoong says. “Just finishing up. Should we call them down?”

The three share a look, silently deciding before they nod, small smiles on their faces as they give Hongjoong their agreement. He nods, and you can see he’s smiling too, but in a different way than he’d been smiling at you earlier. There’s something behind it, a desire maybe, or an intention, that you can’t decipher. You’re not entirely sure if you want to. But you’ve willingly put yourself into his hands, all of their hands, and you’re desperate to see what they do with it.

When he calls the others down they come separately, but soon enough all eight of them have gathered in the living room with you. Even as they talk to each other about things you don’t understand, their eyes are set on you. You feel tiny and describable but also oddly safe. They stare at you like a toy, sure, but a fragile one. One they want to cherish and protect as much as play with. You already feel comfortable and warm surrounded by them in a way you didn’t know you could.

After a short and indecipherable discussion with Hongjoong, Seonghwa briefly moves his gaze from you to give him one final look. When his eyes return to you they’re even darker than before. Deep down you know that something, or someone, has just flipped the switch.

“She’s ready,” he says. “Let’s start.”

You hear your breath hitch, feeling your heart begin to race and Wooyoung hushes you, stroking your head. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s nothing to be scared of.”

“It’s really not,” San assures. He turns his gaze to Seonghwa who keeps it briefly before he shrugs, a small smile on his face. “We’re just gonna play with you. But the first time is always special.”

You nod, a little less nervous but still, your first time playing with them, being their submissive, is no small thing. It’s a moment you’ve been playing in your head for weeks, months — what it would be like, what they’d be like, what they’d expect, how they’d do. In the days leading up to this meeting you’d been kept up with nightmares of failing them, of falling short and being kicked to the curb despite how often they’d reassured you that they’d never, ever do that. And now that moment’s here. Time to prove yourself — or not.

San and Wooyoung stand up, pulling you to your feet by each of your arms. They each press a kiss to each of your cheeks before walking away to join the crowd, leaving you alone and watched, completely surrounded by them. Truly a prey among predators. They regard you silently for a few minutes, eyes running up and down each inch of your body before Hongjoong speaks.

“We’re going to give you a little test, pet,” he says. “It’s not to see if we want you, because you’re already ours, but to see how much training you’ll need.”

You nod in understanding and he clicks his tongue, already displeased. “The first lesson is verbal answers,” he says. “Unless we tell you not to speak, you respond to everything we tell you in words. Yes sir or no sir will do. Do you understand?”

You nod again, but realise your mistake quickly and squeak out a weak “yes sir.” Hongjoong smiles approvingly.

“Strip down to your panties,” he says. “Put them on the chair then come back to stand over here. Do it now.”

You breathe out another “yes sir” and do as he commands. You turn away from the men as you undress, too embarrassed to face them but you can still feel their eyes burning into you. Your hands shake as you unbutton your shirt, folding it neatly before placing it on the chair as instructed. Your bra quickly joins it, then the skirt and tights until all that’s left are your tiny white panties, clinging to your hips as you turn around nervously.

You feel exposed, clad only in one flimsy garment and surrounded by eight fully-clothed men. Their gazes are dark and intense on you and you’ve never felt more vulnerable. But they look pleased, which eases your nerves slightly.

“Very good,” Hongjoong says approvingly, gaze fixed on your chest. You blush, hands instinctively reaching to cover your chest but you think better of it before it’s covered. Just in the nick of time, you think, if the scowl on Yeosang’s face is anything to go by.

“Smart girl,” Seonghwa chuckles. “Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. He smiles gently and beckons you towards him. As you approach him, the others move to form a circle around you. You gulp, somehow feeling even smaller than before. You’re truly trapped now.

“Right then,” Seonghwa says, clapping his hands together. You flinch at the sudden sound and you hear a few of them chuckle. With your eyes cast down, you miss the glint that crosses each of their eyes at your obvious fear. “We’ll start by seeing which commands you already know. We’ll teach you the ones you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” you say.

“Look at me,” he says. You look up, meeting his gaze nervously and he smiles.

“Down,” he says.

It takes you a moment to register the command, and by the time you do it’s clearly too late. Seonghwa sighs, looking disappointed. He nods to a man behind you and before you can register it, five hard slaps are delivered to your ass. You yelp and try to lean away but the man snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into him.

“Disobeying already,” he breathes and you recognise the voice as Wooyoung. You whine and he slaps you again, this time reaching around to hit the front of your thigh.

“Don’t complain,” he grumbles.You breathe out an apology and he hums, rubbing the pink mark on your thigh with momentary tenderness. “And no more talking. You’re a puppy now”

You nod, and your first instinct is to apologise but you think better of it, literally biting your tongue to keep your words in your mouth. Wooyoung notices, chucking lowly before he steps back from you.

Jongho steps forwards, commanding your attention as he approaches you. He gets close enough to kiss you, close enough for you see the small details of his face, but that face is emotionless. Focused.

“This is your second lesson,” he says. His voice is even lower now, with a new quality you don’t recognise. But you know exactly what it is — dominance. Control “When we say ‘down’,” he says, “you get on your knees. Instantly and without question. If you don’t, you’ll be punished. So let’s try that again. Down.”

Desperate to obey, you let your legs give out, falling to your knees with hopeful eyes on him.He smiles, pressing a hand to your cheek and letting you nuzzle into it. “Good dog,” he says. “Up now.”

You spring to your feet without thinking, basking in the pleased looks on their faces. “Clever girl,” San praises. You smile shyly at him and he smiles back. For the first time since you’ve met him, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Then Jongho steps away, leaving you alone and surrounded again. You do your best to stay still, figuring that’s your best bet to avoid Wooyoung’s heavy hand for now.

They let you stand there, exposed and vulnerable, for a few minutes before moving on.

“Come,” Yeosang says. You start to walk towards him but he stops you with a raised hand. “Crawl.”

You gulp, shakily lowering yourself to your knees and crawling towards him. It’s only a few feet, but the thick silence and the feeling of their stares on you makes it feel like miles. It barely registers with you exactly what’s happening right now; you’re naked except your skimpy panties, surrounded by eight fully clothed men, crawling towards one of them at his command. You can’t think of anything more humiliating. Or arousing.

When you reach Yeosang he reaches to stroke your hair. “Sit,” he orders. You sit back up onto your knees and he smiles. “She’s learning fast,” he says.

The others hum in agreement. “She’s clever,” Mingi says, sounding proud.

“She is,” Yeosang agrees. “ Alright, pet. The next commands are easy. Eyes up.”

This time they give you a second to figure it out and you do, meeting Yeosang’s gaze with hopeful eyes. He nods. “Eyes down.” This one is much easier to figure out — you drop your eyes to your lap, contrite and humble. “Good girl,” he says. “Isn’t she good?”

“The best,” Yunho purrs. You don’t notice him creeping up behind you until you feel his big hands wrap gently around your throat. After a few more commands, properly obeyed depute your shaky start, he speaks again. “Shouldn’t we reward her now, Joong? She’s done well.”

A few others chime in their agreement and Hongjoong hums. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Come here, baby.”

You crawl to him, slightly faster as you begin to get to the feeling of it, and Hongjoong crouched down to your level, holding his arms out for you to crawl into. He lets you snuggle into his chest for a moment before pulling away, moving his hands to gently hold your face.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “How do you want to be rewarded?”

The answer slips out before you can consider it. “Fuck me,” you say. At his raised eyebrow, you tack on a whispered, “please, sir.”

Hongjoong smiles, running his thumb over your lips. When they part slightly he slips it into your mouth, letting you suckle at it. He looks enamoured by the sight. “No, honey,” he smiles. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“I am,” you insist, nodding fervently.

Silence briefly abounds before Hongjoong slaps you across the face, quick and wordless, like this is a normal way for him to express his displeasure — which, when it comes to you, it probably will be. “Don’t disagree with us,” he snaps. “What you think doesn’t matter anymore. You’re not ready.”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not ready.”

Hongjoong nods. “Turn around and show me your ass.”

You obey, turning slowly on your fours until your ass faces him, leaving you facing the rest of the men. They stare at you with fascination and scrutiny. Hongjoong runs a hand down your ass cheek with feather-light touches. You feel electricity prickle up your spine, fearful. You’ve displeased him and spoken out of turn and you worry about the consequences. His hands aren’t the largest in the group but he mentioned he works out and he’s still much larger and stronger than you, so you don’t doubt that he could cause you a lot of pain if he wanted to. A few cracks of his hand against your ass would no doubt leave it stinging and you shiver at the thought.

But the harsh, punishing strikes you’re expecting don’t come. Instead he runs a long finger down the centre of your ass until it lightly grazes across your pussy. You squirm at the feeling. The others smile at the sight as their leader pushes your panties to the side to press a finger into your heat. “How does she feel, Joong?” Seonghwa asks.

“She’s perfect,” comes Hongjoong’s voice from behind you. It’s slightly strained and raspier than before. He’s clearly just as affected and you feel proud. “Tight and warm like we thought she’d be.”

You make a noise of surprise and he shushes you. You knew they’d have talked about you in your absence, but you hadn’t considered that they’d have talked about…this specifically. And the way they talk about you like a thing, like you’re not even there, is objectifying in the best way. Everything about this is hotter than you could have imagined. Even the slightest touches set your skin alight and they know it.

Hongjoong curls his finger slightly and you jolt forward a bit but he quickly pulls you back, wrapping an arm around your neck to put you in a near headlock. “Easy, baby,” he whispers. “Easy.”

You look up to see the others have inched towards you, surrounding you completely. They each look thrilled in a different way, and you’re desperate for their touch — any of them. All of them.

“Please,” you gasp. You can barely speak through Hongjoong’s grip on your neck but they hear you.

Seonghwa comes to kneel in front of you, cradling your face in his palms. “Oh baby, baby,” he whispers melodiously. “So pretty like this.”

Mingi and San join Hongjoong behind you, running their hands over your ass and their fingers through your wet folds as Hongjoong adds a second finger to your hole. With the two fingers inside you he spreads you open, allowing the other two a perfect view of your stretched out pussy. “Fuck,” they both breathe. “The prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen,” Mingi says and San agrees.

Jongho and Wooyoung and Yunho and Yeosang take their places on either side of you. Wooyoung reaches to play with your tits, grabbing and squeezing them and slapping them where they hang below you. His hits are hard like the ones he’d delivered to your ass earlier, and soon your pretty tits are decorated with red marks. The other three seem content to watch and palm themselves as Hongjoong works you open and Wooyoung abuses your sensitive tits, while Seonghwa pushes finger after finger into your mouth, lazily fucking your throat with his long digits. You gag and choke when he pushes them deeper but you do your best to suck them. Seonghwa tuts when you choke particularly violently but he seems pleased with your efforts. “You’ll make such a perfect cock sucker,” he muses. “You’re such a natural already.”

You whine around his fingers, stuffed into your throat and covered in your drool. He presses a kiss to your forehead before he pushes them in deeper. You choke but keep them in your throat and you hear Yunho whistle. “She’s dedicated,” he says admiringly.

“She was born for this.” Seonghwa speaks through gritted teeth and you look down to see his hard cock straining against his pants. You’re not sure what you were expecting exactly, but you’re surprised by its thickness. You’re not quite certain how it will fit inside you.

Returning your gaze to his, you’re met with total, almost feral darkness in his eyes. “Don’t tempt me,” he grunts. “I’ll ruin you.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, slapping you across the cheek a couple of times until your face is red and covered in your saliva. Hongjoong’s keeping a steady pace as his fingers pump into your pussy, but there’s so many sensations, so many strong hands on you, that you can’t quite process it all. Your awareness of each man goes up and down with each movement they make and you’re completely overwhelmed.

Painfully quickly, Hongjoong pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty for one merciful moment until the men next to him take their turn. Mingi presses a finger to the edge of your asshole, not penetrating it, just gently and softly teasing the rim, but the feeling is enough to make you buck against him. His other hand grabs your waist, holding in place. “Have you never played with this hole before, baby?” He asks.

You whine, shaking your head and he laughs. “You’ll be used to it soon enough,” he says. “It’s Jongho’s favourite hole, isn’t it?”

Jongho laughs and though you know he’s right next to you, he sounds distant and out of reach. You gasp at the feeling of another, thicker finger on your asshole. Unlike Mingi, Jongho doesn’t hesitate, pushing his finger into you. It’s a completely foreign feeling, much different to the feeling of your pussy being penetrated, but in some weird way it almost feels… better. Maybe it’s the resistance your tight hole puts up against him, stretching around him then sucking him in; or maybe it’s the degrading, humiliating feeling of knowing every one of your holes is being used and explored by these men. Either way, you’ve never felt like this before and you don’t want it to stop.

While the two men play with your asshole, San dives into your pussy, latching his mouth onto it and exploring it with his tongue. You’re fairly certain Hongjoong’s fingers have already made you cream but if San notices, it clearly only spurs him on as he eats you relentlessly, pushing you quickly towards the edge.

“Fuck, San!” You scream and he growls, landing a hard slap against your already red cheeks.

“That’s not my name,” he snarls. His voice is muffled by your pussy like he couldn’t bear to pull himself away from it even for a second. You must taste good, you think with pride, but another harsh slap reminds you to respond.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say.

You feel San smile against your pussy, large hand soothingly rubbing the red mark where he’d slapped you.

While you were distracted by the three men playing with your holes, the other five have stood up, retreating to the surrounding couches where they’ve somehow even served themselves wine without you noticing. You look up to see them watching you intently, small smiles on their face as they lounge around, taking in the sight in front of them. You must look pathetic, you think; face covered in your own sweat and drool, entire body littered with red handprints and three men stretching and playing with your holes. But you can see from the faces, and bulges of the men on the couches, that they love it as much as you do.

San pulls his mouth off of you, replacing it with his fingers before you can complain or even register the absence. He works you open a little more gently than Hongjoong, but the pumps of his fingers are strong and precise. On their side of him, the other two have started a game of how many fingers they can fit in your asshole. They do it carefully, wetting their fingers and inserting them slowly, with each finger they add you’re stretched a little more and it burns. Deliciously.

Your mouth hangs open, breaths strangled as you lose yourself in the feeling. You feel your eyes roll back as San speeds up, pumping three fingers in and out of you. Mingi and Jongho pull theirs out, rubbing your loosened asshole almost soothingly as San keeps going, faster, harder, deeper, until all it takes is for him to press this thumb firmly against your clit for you to let go, coming all over his fingers.

As soon as you’re done you collapse, letting your body fall to the floor in exhaustion. Mingi and Jongho pull their fingers out of you with moaned praises, gently stroking your back. With his fingers still inside you San lifts you up, pulling you back to lie against his chest. His fingers don’t move inside you, just sitting there like a comforting presence as he adjusts you to a comfortable position. He pulls them out slowly, hushing you when you whine softly at the loss, and settles you so your head is resting on his chest, just under his neck and chin so he can easily lean down to whisper to you. “Didn’t know you were such a squirter, baby,” he mumbles.

Too fucked out to respond, you just groan and he chuckles. “I’ve got you, honey,” he says. He starts to sway, rocking you back and forth soothingly. You hear him say something to someone else, you think Jongho, who laughs and hands him something. You look up to see San wiping his hand, wet with you slick, onto a towel. He sees you watching and smiles down at you, pressing a kiss to your head before reaching down to move your panties, still bunched to the side to expose your dripping hole, back into place.

You hear other voices around you as your eyelids start to droop. With San’s hand rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, you let yourself fall asleep, snoring softly against his chest. He watched you with a fond smile. “She’s asleep,” he announces to the others.

“Good,” Yeosang says, “she deserves it. She did well.”

Hongjoong hums. “Better than I thought. I’m so glad we found her.”

“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” San says. The others agree and he slowly stands, holding you carefully in his arms as he carries up to your new bedroom. They watch as he leaves before turning to face each other. It’s silent for a few long seconds before Wooyoung speaks.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

—————

hi! thank you for reading my first full-group fic! if people enjoy it i plan to make it into a series, but i deliberately wrote it so it can be left as a standalone as well. so please comment and let me know what you’d like! i really appreciate seeing everyone’s feedback or thoughts on my writing, and it encourages me to write more too. so please let me know. if you want this to continue, i’m also happy to accept requests for it as well as my regular requests. just specify☺️! thank you for reading as always! please reblog & comment, i can’t wait to see everyone’s thoughts on this! my seonghwa fic will be coming soon as well. please forgive any errors, i have proofread but things may have slipped through. love🖤🖤🖤

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #jongho smut #san smut #choi san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #poly ateez x reader #dom ateez

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

‘So… Déjà vu?’

Summary: Sam and Dean have to watch their best friend die over and over again everyday.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: I tried to not use Y/n a whole bunch in this story, mainly because I realized not a whole lot of people like that. But it is steal in the story. Also I did base this off of @jasmines-library story called GROUNDHOG DAY, y'all should go read it it’s really good. But please enjoy.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘Heat of the moment’

Sam woke up with a start, the music dragging him from his short slumber. Rising to sit up in his bed the small digital alarm blaring through the small motel room. Bring a hand up to his face he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

Sam glanced over to his side slightly surprised to see that his brother was already up and moving about, considering that he would be the one to stay in bed throughout the day if he could. 

Dean sat on his side of the bed, one leg pulled towards his chest as he tied his shoelaces together. “Rise and shine, Sammy.” He shouted over the music, tossing both feet on the ground once he was done. 

“Dude,” Sam said with a small chuckle. “Asia?”

A groan came from Deans bed, the sight of the motel pillow being flipped over a tired head caused a smile to lift onto Sam’s face. “Turn it down.” You muttered beneath the pillow, tugging it closer towards your face. 

Dean leaned over towards the nightstand, turning up the volume on the digital clock. “Suck it up, buttercup. This is y’all’s wake up call.”

You sat up in the bed, purposely swatting Dean in the back with your pillow before hauling yourself up. Sam let out a breathy laugh at his brother’s expression, tossing the sheets off his body to start getting ready for the day. 

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You stood beside Sam, patiently waiting in the door way for Dean to finish going through his bags to retrieve his pistol. Stopping his movements the older man lifted a bra by his finger, meeting Sam’s eyes as he gestured to the garment. “This yours?”

Sam gave his brother an annoyed look, in return Dean laughed in his face. 

“Hurry up, I’m hungry.” You told him, slightly curious if the bra Dean was holding was yours or from the last couple that occupied the room. 

“Relax,” Dean told you, digging deeper into his bag before he pulled out his gun. “So am I.”

The drive to the diner was short and the parking lot was vaguely packed. Walking through the door, the bell chimed above as Dean lead them to an empty table. 

“Hey, Tuesday.” Dean said pointing at the ‘specials’ board above the counter. “Pig in a poke.”

“Do you even know what that is?” Sam asked, eyeing the older man. 

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat. Sam gave him a very smug smile as the waiter came up to their table. “Now what can I get y’all started with?”

“Think I’ll have the chocolate pancakes with the strawberry toppings.” You told the lady, handing over your menu as you did so.

“You’re gonna get sick.” Sam told you after he and Dean had ordered their own breakfast. 

You simply shrugged your shoulders. “Then I’ll get sick, Sam, and hopefully have the day off afterwards.”

“Nah,” Dean told you, his arm resting behind your seat. “We’ll still make you work anyway.”

You slung Deans arm off before facing Sam again, “What exactly are we searching here for, Sam?”

“Nothing, that’s what we’re searching for.” Dean said for Sam, purposely ignoring the look the taller man gave him. 

“Well Dean, what do you think we should be doing then?”

“Searching for Bela, getting the colt back, Sam. Not sitting here and working a simple disappearance case.”

“I agree with Dean,” you told Sam, leaning forward onto the table in case anyone were to eavesdrop. “We can’t close up Hell with out the colt.”

“I know that, Y/n.” Sam told you, a deep sigh falling from his lips as he looked around the small diner. “But we don’t even know where she is. And in the meantime we have this.” He pulled a couple of news clipping articles from his jacket and placed them onto the table.

As the three of you discussed the disappearance of the local professor, the waitress gave each of you y’all’s breakfast. Your chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream and chopped strawberries made your stomach rumble, giving a quick thank you before pouring syrup on top. 

A loud smash lifted you from the sugary dessert, both brothers staring down at the smashed bottle of hot sauce on the floor. “Crap.” The waitress muttered to herself, before rushing off to grab something to clean the spill. 

After she left, you talked briefly about the professor, Sam making a small point about how he was last scene at the local Mystery Spot. A place ‘Where the laws of physics have no meaning!”

“Alright then,” You said, pulling out your wallet to leave a small tip for the waitress. “Let’s head to the Mystery Spot.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The said Mystery Spot lived up to its name, tables stuck to the ceiling, the hallways were painted to give off a hypnotic appeal. If it weren’t for the fact that the place was completely pitch black and that the magical effect it was supposed to have wasn’t in full effect. It would honestly be something that you would like to go and see when your not on the job. 

“Huh,” You muttered, shinning a flashlight at one of the strange objects in the room. “Do you think this guy actually gets money off this place.”

“Are you kidding? I’m surprised if this guy could even keep the place open.” Dean responded eyeing the same piece that you were. 

Moving the flashlight away from the object and towards the younger Winchester, you flashed it at the EMF in his hand. “What’s your reading?”

Sam just shook his head. 

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Dean asked, aggravation slowly seeping into his tone. 

“Yeah…” Sam gave a small shrug, though his response was clearly unsure of him self. He noticed the look both his brother and you were giving him. “No.” He finally admitted. 

You gave a small nod, your lips pulled into a tight line as you moved on through the room. “Lovely.”

Click

“What the hell are you doing here.” A voiced called out, causing you and the brothers to instantly draw your guns and aim at the person. 

You recognized him as the owner of the Mystery Spot, and so did the boys because they both held up their guns in the air to not show that they were not any danger. Though by the looks of it all the three of them were far from innocent in the eyes of the owner. 

“Woah, hey look, we can explain.” Dean said, eyeing the weapon with worry, seeing as he can’t defend themselves as much since they are the ones that broke into his building. 

The owner waved his gun between the three of them, uncertain if he should pull the trigger or not. “You robbing me?”

“No sir,” You told the man, moving towards the nearby table to place your gun in his eye of sight, trying to prove that you weren’t about to harm him. “No sir, we aren’t stealing from you.”

“Don’t move!” He shouted, the barrel of the gun pointed at your chest. “Don’t.”

“I’m just putting gun away.” You tried to reassure the man. 

Bang

The noise came loud and sudden, causing you to fall backwards upon impact. 

“Y/n!”

Sam quickly fell to the ground, placing both hands over the hole in your chest. “Oh my God.” He muttered tears slowly collecting at his water line, he looked over at his older brother for help, unsure of what to do. 

“Call 911.” Dean told the man, coming to sit beside you, eyes darting between your wound and the pained expression on your face. 

“I-I didn’t mean t-“

“Call them, now!” He shouted, placing a hand near the seeping hole. Praying that it’ll disappear once he lifts it. 

Though like all his prayers they go unheard as blood continued to pour from the wound. You let out a pained moan, with either of the boys putting pressure on it, it caused pain to shoot through your body. But, you felt to numb to tell them off about that. 

Sam tugged you up into his arms, feeling as your body starts to relax the longer you laid there. Once more he looked at Dean, desperation in his eyes as he didn’t want to loose you like this. 

Dean lightly tapped the side of your face, watching as your eyes drooped behind your eyelids. “Please, buttercup,” he whispered, voice slowly cracking as the weight of the situation suddenly fell on him. “Just stay awake for a little while, ok? C-can you do that for me?”

You began to see spots in your vision, sounds had started to mix in with one another and you could taste the blood filling your mouth. And above all filling your lungs, slowly choking on copper liquid. 

“J-just a little longer.” Dean whispered, bringing your head to him to place a kiss on your hairline. “You can do it, me and Sammy know you can.”

Sam felt his heart stop when he noticed your eyes wouldn’t open back up, when your chest stopped rising  and falling, how your arms just dangled. A choked sob left his mouth, and Dean just held your head closer to him, muttering quiet prayers for you to stay with them. 

But they knew it was too late, they knew that the ambulance would never make it on time. You were dead. 

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘Heat of the moment’

Sam woke up with a start, panic deeply embedded in his mind as he slowly processed what exactly had happened. But, looking around it appeared as if nothing had happened and that it was a strange dream. 

Dean sat in his bed, leg pulled towards his chest, shoelaces tightly gripped in each hand as he appeared to have the same thoughts racing through his mind just like his brother. “Rise and shine, Sammy.”

Sam had heard that before, the same line ringing through his mind like a signal. He’s heard that before, he’s heard this song before, almost like he had already lived this day before. 

A groan came from Deans bed, immediately both brothers looked over at the noise. And both felt their heart stop in their chest at what they saw. 

It was you. 

And you had just pulled your pillow over your head like from a distant memory of theirs. 

“Y/n?” Dean asked, forgetting his shoe completely and reaching over to lightly shake you. Almost as to see if you were real. “Y/n?”

“Cut it out.” You told him, taking the pillow and hitting him in the chest. 

Dean turned to his brother, disbelief and shock written all over his face as he tried to find an answer from his smart little brother. But, Sam just slowly shook his head, he didn’t know why or how you were back, but you were. 

And neither boys knew if they should be thankful or concerned for that. 

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Everything was the same. That the boys figured out the longer the day passed, from you doing the same morning routine as before, all the way to the people in the diner talking and acting as if they’ve done this before. 

It was almost as if it was rehearsed. 

Sam and Dean knew something was happening but they just didn’t know how to voice it. You were acting as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t die in their arms from a gun shot. And maybe it didn’t happen. 

“Hey, Dean,” you said, sitting down in the inside of the booth. “Tuesdays pig in a poke.”

Sam gave you a funny look, eyebrows pinched together as he glanced at his brother real quick. “It’s Tuesday?”

You looked at the menu, not even bothering to met Sam’s eye as you spoke. “Yep, just like yesterday was Monday, and the day before was Sun-“

“We get it.” Dean interrupted you, his arm slung behind your back at he glanced around the restaurant. An unnerving feeling creeping up the back of his mind. 

Eyeing both boys, you could tell that something was the matter. They’ve been acting strange ever since they woke up this morning, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. “Are you guys ok?”  

“Yep.”

“Never better.”

You could tell they were lying, even through they were physically fine, deep down you knew something was wrong mentally. “Ok.” You replied going back to the menu, eyeing the many types of pancakes they had. “Think I’ll have chocolate pancakes with strawberry toppings.”

“Do you… Do you not remember any of this?” Sam asked, knowing now that this had happened before. 

“… no?” 

The waitress came over taking both yours and deans order, whom went with the special. Once she left, you turned you attention back to the boys. “What exactly should I be remembering?”

“This, today. Like it’s happened before.”

You pulled your lips into a tight line, mind racing to think if you’d actually remember this. “No, but maybe yall are experiencing Deja vu.” You told them, pretty certain that that’s all that was happening to them. 

“No, not Deja vu.” Sam told you, rubbing the sides of his head. “But it’s like this day has happened already, like we are reliving the yesterday.”

You glanced at each Winchester, concern etching to the front of your mind. “So… Deja vu?”

“No it’s-“ Dean rubbed his face, unsure of how to tell you that they’d already been through this day before. 

The waitress came back stack of chocolate chip pancakes, the whipped cream smothered in sliced strawberries. She also placed Deans pig in a poke onto the table, the smell of the breakfast gave off caused your stomach to rumble as your began to pour syrup on top the fruity food. 

“And here’s your hot sauc- crap!” The hot sauce on the platter tipped over falling towards the ground, though almost as a reflex Sam caught it, surprise etched on his face at what he’d done. “Thanks.” The waitress told him, walking away with the empty platter. 

“Wow.” You told the younger man. “We got our very own Spider-Man.”

After breakfast the boys seemed to try and explain the whole situation to you, though they tried their hardest to leave out the part where you got blown away by the owner of the mystery spot. 

The Mystery Spot. 

That’s where you died and that’s also when you came back and everything was practically normal. The brothers knew they had to go back there and find some answers, but not at night. That’s what they told you when you brought up going at night, they knew that if they could prevent the inedible then they would. 

Tires screeched from the road, trying to stop itself before it connected with your body. You were thrown across the road, your body broken and bloody from the impact. Once the brothers reached your side they knew it was too late, you were far to gone for them so save. 

‘Heat of the moment’

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Day after day, song after song, the Winchester boys had to watch you die in both gruesome and unrealistic ways. And every single time there was no way to save you. 

They were starting to get desperate, everyday they had explained to you what had happened and every time you ended up dead in one way or another. Right now they were back in the diner, you were quietly munching on your stack of waffles while the boys had the computer and newspaper articles scattered around the table. 

“So…” you began trying to figure out how exactly to word your next sentence. “”I’ve been killed every day and neither of y’all can figure out how?” 

“Well not exactly but I think we are getting close.” Sam told you, glancing up from behind the computer screen. 

“Yeah, see we thought I was the mystery spot, but after we tor down the walls and you got an axe to the head.” Dean told you, ignoring the way you stopped eating at that. “We thought maybe it wasn’t the place, but the things around it.”

“So then the town?”

“Exactly.”

“Well,” you began picking out the strawberries and eating them alone. “Have y'all tried leaving this place?”

“Yes”

“And?”

“And we got T-boned” Sam told you, finger clicking against the keyboard. 

”Oh… and I take it I didn’t make it.”

“No. No your neck broke on impact. “

“Oh” you didn’t really feel like eating after that. Clearing your throat and pushing your plate away you leaned forward to see what they were working on. “So what exactly have you guys gotten from all this.”

“It’s not that clear but, this Dexter Hasselback had put a lot of places like the Mystery Spot out of business.” Sam told you flipping the papers in your direction. “So we may think that I has to do something with him.”

“Yeah, but, we don’t know where Hasselback is.” Dean added on. “So we’re thinking that if we find him, we find out what going on.”

You nodded along with the information given, “Sounds great. Should we go ahead and look for Hasselback then?”

Dean gave a quick nod, hurriedly packing all the newspapers clippings into the small back that Sam had brought with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw a man from the counter get up to leave. 

Sam glanced at where the man once sat, and he seem to freeze at what he saw. The pink sticky syrup next to the plate covered in leftovers of the man’s breakfast. “Dean,” he said not once taking his eyes off the syrup. “Look at the counter.”

“What about it?” You asked, even though Sam didn’t call for you. 

“That man has maple syrup for the last 100 Tuesdays, now all of the sudden he has strawberries?” He said eyeing the man as he walked out of the restaurant. 

“Can’t blame ‘em.” You told Sam, picking up your own strawberry at that. “It’s earths one weakness.”

“Nothing changes, not the people and especially what they do. Except for us.” Dean muttered catching onto Sam’s ranting. 

And by tomorrow they would know exactly what to do to stop this. 

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Neither Sam nor Dean spoke a word to you the next day, they let you get your pancakes and listened to the words you seemed forced to say all while never taking their eyes off the man at the counter. 

“You know if you keep on being rude, the lady is gonna spit in my food.” You told them playing with a sugar packet as you waited on your food to come. 

They knew you were right, when the waitress came by, they were the ones to tell them what you wanted. And when they did it was very curt and off handed, almost like they were too focused on something else to care about how they acted. 

“You’ll live.” Dean told you, eyes glued to the man. 

“You two are dicks when your hungry.” You muttered under your breath, although they still heard what you said, but that was the least of their concerns.

The waitress came back with your pancakes before leaving again, and as she left the man at the counter suddenly stood up. He cleaned his mouth with a napkin, pulled out some money from his pocket and headed for the door. 

Sam and Dean shared a quick look, waiting til he was outside before getting up themselves. You stared confusedly as they walked out the diner, completely leaving you in the booth were you sat. 

“Are you seriously making me pay?” You called after them, though they were already out the door before you could argue any further. Plucking a small strawberry off the whipped cream, you threw down some money and hurried after the boys, not wanting to be left behind. 

The boys followed the man to the parking lot, though they refused to let him go any further as Sam slammed the man up against the fence. 

“Sam! What the hell?” You asked, coming up beside the taller man. But, your confusion went from one brother to the next as Dean pulled out a stake, the end dipped in blood. He pressed it up against the man’s throat silencing his yelling momentarily, the threat of being stabbed causing him to let out pleads to the two men. 

“We know who you are.” Dean told him pushing the piece of wood deeper into his neck. “Or what you are.”

“Oh my God.” The man looked between the three, eyes landing on you as you were the only one currently not posing as a threat to him. “Please don’t kill me.”

“It took us a hell of long time, but we figured it out.” Sam said, adding onto Dean explanation. “It was your M.O. that gave it away.”

“Yeah, going after jerks, giving them their just deserts. You kind loves that, don’t they?” Dean continued to taunt, not once letting his gripped slip up. 

The man looked like he was ready to start screaming again, eyes glancing between the weapon to the boys. “Yeah, sure. Ok! Just put the stake down!”

“Guys, maybe y’all should-“ you tried to reason with either of the brothers before they interrupted you.

“No!” Dean pressed the stake further into the man’s neck. “There’s only one creature powerful enough to do what you’re doing.” The man let out a pained groan. “Making reality out of nothing, sticking people into time-loops.”

“You’d have to be a God.” Sam finished, grip ever so slightly tightening on the man’s collar. “You’d have to be a trickster.”

“Sam…”

The man began to panic even more, a light sheen of sweat covering his face as he tried his hardest to lean away from the weapon. “Misters… my name is Ed Coleman. My wife is Amelia- I’ve got two kids!” He then stared right at the boys, “I sell add space for Christs sake.”

“Boys, I don’t think you should be doing this.” You tried once more, but all that came from your mouth just fell on deaf ears. 

“Don’t lie!” Sam suddenly shouted. “We know what you are, we killed your kind before.”

A beat of silence passed, no one seemed to move or even breath as they waited for something to happen. And right before their eyes the man’s face seemed to shift, his hair changing colors, eyes ever so slightly distancing themselves and his skin ridded itself of wrinkles. 

The man before you had shifted into an all to familiar face. 

“Actually,” The trickster began, a smug smirk plastered on his lips. “You didn’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean asked first, the initial shock slowly fading as he came back to the current situation. “Why Y/n?”

“Are you kidding me? All three of you tried to kill me last time.” The trickster told you all, pointing an acusase finger as he did so. “Why wouldn’t I do this? Why not make each of you suffer?”

“So this is funny to you?” Sam asked, pushing the smaller man further into the fence. “Killing her over and over again, you find joy in that?”

“I’ve been getting killed?” You asked, confused and slightly shocked at what Sam had confessed. 

“Oh,” the trickster said, fake sincerity lacing his voice. “Did they forget to tell you today?”

“Shut up! Answer the question.” Dean shouted, the stake being pushed deeper into his throat as he did so. 

“Ok, ok! Yes it is fun.” The trickster confessed, trying to present a small laugh to ease the situation. Though it’s far from working. “But, this is so not about killing Y/n.”

The boys give one another a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The joke is on the both of you. I mean… come on.” He gave a small roll of his eyes. “How great is it to watch your best friend die, day after day? Death after death? Forever.”

“Screw you.” Sam muttered. 

The trickster gave a small scoff, “Oh, yeah, way to go Sam. Way to keep it PG. But seriously how long will it take you two to realize you can’t save everyone? No matter how hard you try.”

“Yeah? We stick this stake in you right now, it ends for good.” Dean taunted pressing deeper with the wood. 

“Ok. Ok!” The trickster held up both hands. “You can’t take a joke? Fine, you’re out of it. You wake up tomorrow and it’ll be Wednesday.”

“And if you’re lying?”

“Then you know where to find me. At the diner having pancakes.” He then snapped his fingers and everything went dark. 

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Sam woke up with a start, the music blared through the small digital clock on the bedside table. He tried to rub the sticky from the back of his eyes, but the song of choice caused him to awaken even more. Glancing over at the table he ignored the time, seemingly staring at the date. 

“Wednesday.” He muttered to himself. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Yeah,” you called out from the bathroom, ringing out your hair into the motels shower as you did. “Like how yesterday was Tuesday and the day before was Monday. And can you turn that down, please? I don’t want to get a complaint from the neighbors.”

“No, are you kidding?” Dean asked you, deeply relieved that he didn’t have to listen to Asia again this morning. “Is this not the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?”

You glance between both brothers, stopping your movements momentarily. “I’ve heard better.” You then went back to drying your hair. “How many Tuesdays did you two have exactly.”

“Too many.” Sam told you, tossing His bed sheets away from him as he got out of bed. “Wait… what do you remember?”

“Well you two were being real dicks at breakfast yesterday, then you threatened to stab a guy in the diners parking lot. And then the guy turned into the trickster, and that’s ‘bout it, really.”

“Right, ok. Let’s get out of here.” Sam told you, making his way to his bag to get a change of clothes. Dean not to far behind. 

“Are- are you two not hungry?”

“No.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You placed the last of your stuff in the back of the impala, the door shutting will a loud thump as you did so. Turning to make your way back into the motel, you were stopped by an older man. One you recognized as someone from the diner yesterday. 

“Jus’ hand me your money and I’ll be on my way.” He told you, cocking his pistol to show that he wasn���t joking around. 

“Alright, ok. Yeah.” You told him, hands slightly raised at your sides as you did so. “It’s just in my pocket, ok?”

He gave you a quick nod, eyes darting around the empty parking lot in case someone walked out on them. “That’s fine.”

Reaching into your pockets, you pulled your wallet out. Raising it to show the man, you then tossed it at him, he caught it with his unoccupied hand. The gun still pointed directly at you. 

“We good?” You questioned, hands going back to the air as the man didn’t look like he was going to lower his weapon.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Bang

Sam and Dean stopped their movements, the both of them giving each other a Quick Look before running outside. Upon reaching the motels parking lot they saw you on the ground, blood everywhere so slowly pooling around you as you laid motionless. 

The man who had shot you was running away, his gun tucked tightly towards his chest as he fled from the scene. But the brothers main focus wasn’t on him, instead they raced towards you, praying that they weren’t too late.

Sam dropped to one side as Dean dropped to the other, their blue jeans soaking up the blood on the asphalt as they lifted you into a sitting position. 

“Y/n?” Sam asked hands clutching onto the sides of your face as your body went numb. “Y/n please.”

Dean knew this was too familiar, it was like the first time that you had been killed. Only this time he had a sliver of hope that the trickster was playing another joke on them. But as seconds passed and you had yet to wake up, that hope began to fade. And instead tears threatened to spill over. 

“Sam,” dean muttered out, holding on your lifeless hand. “I don’t think we are waking up this time.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

A/N: Hope yall enjoyed. And for anyone that is wondering I am working on the DAREDEVIL!READER x JASON TODD story. I just finished school and tests is all, but let me know what yall think!

#dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam x y/n #sam x you #castiel #crowley #lucifer spn #lucifer supernatural #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #spn rewatch #spn family #spn fandom #mystery spot #season 3

[coldfanbou]

Rough Treatments

Hey @blepbooplebeep Here was your idea. I kinda forgot about the bunny hybrid part because I got into the smutty ideas. Also it's relatively short because there wasn't too much story involved in the writing. For everyone else, a little rough treatment of this bunny is involved. A lot of anal teasing for her.

Length 1.5K

GP Jihan X Freader

In the breakroom, you walked in to find your worker, Jihan, leaning against the counter. She was hard, her cock poking against her skirt and leaving a wet spot as she leaked precum. The rabbit girl had entered her heat cycle early; You had notes on it from when you hired her. Jihan was grinding her legs together, struggling to keep it together. The visible bulge pressing against her skirt turned you on.

Considering you two were the only ones at work on this day, you did nothing about it for the moment, taking the time to think of something. After she heads for her office, you take your time to follow her, knocking on the door before intruding. “Jihan, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Jihan says, typing away at her computer and refusing to look up. You stroll to her side, glancing at her work before pressing a button on the side of her desk that lifts the entire desk. 

“You should stand up a little; sitting for so long isn’t good for you.” Jihan gave you a shy nod and stood up. You moved behind her, watching her work for a second before unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the ground. Jihan’s ears stood at attention as she remained standing in place.

“B-boss?”

“Shh, Jihan. I know what you’re going through. Just keep working, and let me help you.” You tell her as you grab her small cock. You move your hand along the stiff shaft, nibbling on her ear as she tries and fails to continue working. Jihan leans over her desk, moaning as you tighten your grip. You feel her precum coating your hand, allowing you to slide along her shaft quickly. “You’re getting all wet, Jihan. Do you like it that much?”

“Mhm, ah, please keep going.” You could only see part of her face, but you saw the desperation on her face. “I’m going to cum, I’m-” Jihan cries out as she cums over your hand. You slow your strokes over time, milking Jihan’s cock for what it is worth before bringing your hand to your lips and tasting the salty liquid.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for the company, Jihan. I’ll make sure you don’t have to suffer in your heat.” You tell her before leaving Jihan alone. She collapses onto her chair, utterly drained from the experience. She looked down at her flaccid cock. Jihan had always imagined she’d be the one taking charge. Taking the role of the submissive partner turned her on, though. She reached down and stroked her cock as she replayed the events that had just happened.

You decided to spend the week teasing Jihan, making her cum more time than you could count. On one occasion, you had Jihan sit in your chair as you gave her a thigh job, your legs squeezing her cock as you moved your hips. You heard Jihan’s whimpers, and she wanted to touch you, but you wouldn’t let her. You felt her warm cum between your legs when she came, but you weren’t done reading her report, so you continued. You felt her leak more cum between your thighs; it made you smile to hear her whines as you toyed with her. You took a break at some point, resting on her lap and leaning against her. “Jihan, you really cum a lot, don’t you?” You teased her. “It must be that bunny DNA, huh?”

The week was coming to a close, though, and with it should be the end of Jihan’s heat cycle. You planned to give her something rough, so you walked into her office. “B-boss, did you need something?” You stayed silent as you shut and locked the door behind you. Walking over to Jihan’s desk, you placed a large, veiny strap-on on it. She stared at it before glancing at you. She stood up slowly and bent herself over her desk. 

You smile at her and kiss Jihan’s cheek. “Good girl, but I want you to get it ready for me.” Stripping down, you put on the strap-on and push Jihan onto her knees. You hold her head against your strap, moving her along your shaft. You squeeze one of your tits with your other hand, moaning as you watch the young woman coat your strap-on with saliva. Jihan’s lips were stretched around the shaft, barely able to fit the strapon in her mouth. You let go of Jihan once you felt it was wet enough, letting her get to her feet and bend over her desk again. You lift her skirt, letting it get stuck around her waist, and pull her panties to the side, eyeing your prize. Jihan’s puckered asshole teased you. You rub your strap-on between her cheeks. Jihan whimpers as you prod her ass. It brought a smile to your face. 

You reached around and felt her cock; Jihan was as hard as a rock. “You want this, don’t you? “ Jihan nodded, unwilling to speak. “If you don’t say anything, I won’t do it, Jihan.”

“Please fuck my ass,” Jihan mumbles. Asking her to repeat herself but louder made Jihan whine, but she did as told and said it louder. You place one hand on Jihan’s ass, stretching her asshole as you push the head inside. She grunts, feeling your strap-on stretch her. You slowly add more length, making small thrusts to coat Jihan’s walls. It was a slow process that was already making Jihan cum, her cum spraying onto her desk and the floor. You enjoyed listening to Jihan whimper and moan as you pushed more of the strap inside her. Once you were finally buried inside Jihan, you waited, letting her get used to having her ass stretched. 

As you waited, Jihan received a phone call. “Answer it.” You command.

“Hello?” Jihan asked as she answered the phone, “Oh, it’s you. Yes, I can talk about the orders.” Jihan tried to stay calm as she chatted with one of the other managers in the company. As she did that, you moved your hands to Jihan’s waist. She looked over her shoulder with worry as you slowly dragged your cock out of her. She covered her mouth, trying to silence her moan as the manager on the other end continued talking. 

“Jihan, are you alright? You don’t sound so good?”

“I’m feeling a l-little under the weather.” Jihan groans as you impale her with your thrust. You begin thrusting faster, making it more difficult for Jihan to hide her moans. Her mind was breaking down as you pounded away at her ass, shaping her asshole to the shape of your strap-on. Cum dripped from the tip of her cock as she went through orgasm after orgasm. “I-I think I’ll need to call you back; sorry,” Jihan says before slamming the phone on the receiver. She collapsed on her desk after, her body being sent forward as you drove your cock into her ass. “You’re going to break me,” Jihan mumbles.

Another call came through a moment later. JIhan let the phone ring, refusing to answer it. You grabbed it for her, placing it by her ear. “Hell-oo,” Jihan said, her moans coming through.

“What was that? Are you alright, Jihan?”

“I’m fine. What did you need?” Jihan tries to hold the conversation as you’re ruining her. Her moans begin to break through as she reaches another climax. The call only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like forever to Jihan. She could feel your strap-on be dragged out of her gaping asshole before ramming back in. 

After some time, you were done with Jihan. You looked at your work, Jihan was left with a gaping asshole that was desperate to close. You licked your fingers and teased Jihan’s ass, running your fingers along the edges. Jihan’s tired whimpers were music to your ears. “Jihan, after work, I’m planning on eating out. You’ll join me, right?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was an order to her, one that she wouldn’t refuse.

You head to a bar after work, Jihan tagging along with some of the other managers. They weren’t the ones she had talked to, so they didn’t suspect anything about her being there. It allowed you to play with your toy. You kept one hand on Jihan’s backside, rubbing your fingers against her tender asshole. Jihan suffered in silence as her cock twitched just under the table they were at. She tried her best to chat, but when you pushed your fingers deeper into her. Jihan came in an instant, her cum spurting onto the underside of the table. It dripped onto her exposed thighs as the night went on, leaving a mess on her that she would need to clean up. 

You let go of Jihan after, letting her treat the night normally. She was tired, though; your little session from earlier left her exhausted. You took her home after, telling her how much you enjoyed her heat cycle. Jihan whispered about enjoying it, too. Managing to hear her, you told the young woman that you'd treat her well when you found her in heat again. Jihan’s ears perked up. She was happy to hear that, and she meekly thanked you.

#kpop smut #f reader #jihan smut #weeekly smut

[thecapricunt1616]

Celandine (c.b. one-shot)

♡ Chapter Inspo: Celandine - Cures depression, brings victory and joy. Serves as a protective ward when worn. Carry to increase self-confidence when facing adversaries. Use in ritual work when you feel trapped in undue negativity. ♡ Summary: You are feeling a bit blue about your body PP, Carmy takes it upon himself to show you just how beautiful you are! :) <3 ♡ W/C: 1.2K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/27/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello! Happy day 2/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡ Here ♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24) so get your requests in! Here's another celebration ask on the books! This ask is from lovely @jesscolon529 I hope you enjoy, my darling! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Speaking of pregnancy, Fem/AFAB!reader, No use of y/n, feelings of self hate / insecurity, sad reader, comforting carmy, established relationship, not edited, Pics are just vibes, reader isn't described!! Established relationship

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been 12 weeks since you’d delivered you and Carmy’s first baby, and your postpartum depression was in full effect. It really had not much to do with your baby, and everything to do with you. You felt gross after you delivered, you barely even wanted Carmy to look at you which he took like a stab in the heart. 

When you came home, it wasn’t really different. Even though showering was…very painful, and you could really use the help and would appreciate that help very much - you couldn’t accept it. The idea of your husband seeing your naked body that you considered to be mangled and gross brought tears to your eyes. The idea of him watching blood run down the drain as you carefully rinsed your mangled bits he used to devour nearly every night made you want to throw up. 

There was still a tiny part of you that believed he did this to you, so he shouldn’t be upset with the result - but somehow that just made you more angry because what if he was upset with how your body looked now, and just wasn’t saying anything? And how dare he not like your body after all you’ve done for him, for your family?! 

You were stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom after you showered, observing yourself. You could have sex how, if you wanted. But you had convinced yourself you’d never let Carmy see you naked again in fear he would shriek and cover his eyes and run away, a bit dramatic - but still you couldn’t face the idea of your husband not loving you anymore because he saw what left you have to give after 9 months of hell.

You touch your now jiggly, wrinkly belly, pulling the skin back with your hands and sighing a bit, remembering how you used to look. Tears welled in your eyes, “you’re so fucking vain” you whispered in the mirror. 

“Baby?” Carmy nudged the door open and you shout 

“JESUS CHRIST!!! IM CHANGING! Shut the door Carmen!” 

He jumps a bit at your sudden outburst, a frown coming to his features “why?” He asked and shut the door behind him. You quickly grabbed your shirt, sliding it over your head and pulling it out so it wouldn’t rest over your belly. 

“Cause- cause I deserve privacy?” You snap, angry that he wasn’t just running away like you’d expected him - or wanted him to. 

“Privacy? From…y’husband?” He comes over and rubs your arms gently “baby- are you gonna tell me wha’s up?” He asked. 

Your lip wobbled, more tears coming to your eyes. You shook your head quickly and looked at the floor, squeezing your eyes shut and hot, thick, shameful tears roll down your cheeks. “I’m ruined now” you said, your voice watery and defeated. 

“What?” He wiped your tears and hugged you, rubbing your back “baby what’s been goin on? You haven’t let me see you in months. I miss you, y’know that, right?” He kissed the top of your head as you sniffle in to his shirt

“I- I’m ugly now an-and wrinkly and covered in stretch marks and- and all…different down there. What if you stop loving me?” You burst into sobs. He could barely contain the lump growing in his own throat as he hushed you and rubbed soothing circles into your back. 

“Princess” he said his voice cracking a bit and he led you to the bed, sitting and pulling you into his lap “I could never stop loving you. I would have to be warm and dead to stop loving you. Y’hear me? You, and little dude, are the only things in this world that matter t’me…and maybe the restaurant…but-“ he said, just to bring a tiny smile to your lips 

“Mmm? See there’s that smile” he wipes your tears “what’s been bugging you baby, show me. I promise, I love every bit of you, I love you more every day- I still don’t know how that’s possible, but you make it work somehow” he teased and you blush, hiding your teary cheeks in the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back and side soothingly. 

“You say that but what if you see me and you can’t help it” you sniffled a bit. 

“Not possible honey” he countered. “Cmon- tell me. What’s been buggin you?” 

“My belly. And - and my thighs are so big now. My belly is all…ugh. Wrinkly and has all these red marks on it. And my bellybutton looks all weird” you whine 

“This belly?” He rubs his palm over it “the belly that kept our son all warm and happy n’safe till it was time f’him t’come home?” He asked and you huff 

“Yes but..it’s not…normal anymore” you said and he hums in agreement. 

“Y’right, it’s better, it’s new, it’s gonna take you some gettin’ used to- but I love it. Can I tell y’somethin and y’promise not t’be mad?” He asked and cuddled you into him more, kissing your cheek and hairline, wherever he could reach. 

“Mm” you hummed, sniffling softly 

“Your body now is the most beautiful it has ever been. Because it’s yours. It’s my wife’s body, my beautiful Mrs.Berzatto, it’s your belly, and your thighs, and your new different pussy you’re so afraid of” he said playfully in your ear to which you giggle a bit, cupping his cheek and looking at him with tear rimmed eyes. 

“Y’not just lying to make me feel better?” You asked and he shook his head 

“Nope- all the truth babygirl. Why would I lie t’my best girl mm? My only girl” he kissed your lips gently and rubbed your hip over. 

“And - and you really like it?”  You pouted 

He raised his brows in the ‘are you fucking with me’ Carmy way, “want me to show you?” He asked and you felt heat in your cheeks, looking down shyly. “Okay-“ he laid you back on the bed carefully, pushing up your shirt. “I think-“ he starts kissing from your ribs, over your sternum, down, down, over your belly, making it a point to kiss each little dimple and mark 

“I fed you and little boy sooo good while you were pregnant, so these? You can blame me. But I love them as selfish as it makes me” he kissed over your hips. “And these” he squeezed them with his hands “mmm fuck I looove these- I can’t wait to hold these while I’m fuckin’ you mm?” He traveled his hands up your waist, squeezing gently and continuing to ravish you in kisses. 

“And these” he gently squeezed your breasts together in your nursing bra “are fucking amazing. And a literal life source for our boy. An’he’s growin so well. He’s in the 95th percentile, he’s so healthy, and chunky. Y’doin amazing babe.” He cups your cheeks. 

“The most important thing though baby is you. You’re still my beautiful, kind, thoughtful wife. And I wouldn’t change anything about you, not a single fuckin’ thing, hear me?” He kisses you deeply. 

You felt more tears running down your cheeks, but it wasn’t fear or sadness this time that brought them, 

It was gratitude.

#Capri 200 follower celebration #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader #Carmen Berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x female reader #Carmen Berzatto one shot #Carmen Berzatto drabble #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x fem reader #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto x oc #the bear fx #the bear #the bear fic #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction

[misstycloud]

Platonic. yandere fae father

Part 2

—————-

Fae. Father! Who is a free-spirited forest fae; he obeys no one and has no ties to the mundane world. He does whatever he wants and spends everyday lazily sleeping in the luscious meadows or going for a swim in the crystal-blue lake that is well hidden from mortals. He is old by human standards, but quite young when comparing to how long a fae generally lives. It is noticeable in the way he acts.

Fae. Father! Who has no perception of time and has spent decades having the same routine over and over again. After so long, one is fated to become bored of it all. So what does he do? He decides to spend one summer engaged in a passionate love affair with a human! They were always fun to mess with. Not to mention kind of weird-looking too, they held no torch to his immortal and otherworldly beauty. After the summer is done and the leaves are turning yellow, he dumps the human like trash. He even goes as far as making fun of her for believing he actually loved her and banishing her from his part of the forest.

Fae. Father! Who’s one day traveling to another portion of the woodland in search for a certain water flower that he wishes to plant in his own little lake. Then, he hears a strange sound. It was a type of wailing mixied with gurgling- a horrible sound, really. Needing to find the source of the disturbing noise, the fae is led to the outskirts of his territory. There he sees a small bundle of cloth squirming on the ground. Poking at it cautiously, he uncovers the blankets and sees what was inside.

It appeared to be a human baby. But what on earth was it doing here? The fae was greatly confused. Had some human dared abandoning their offspring right outside his home? The audacity! He didn’t want any mortals anywhere near his home without his permission. After thinking for a minute, the fae come to the conclusion that he should simply eat the child or perhaps throw it to the wolves. He prepared to pick it up and get it done with when he noticed something off with the baby. It was strangely familiar somehow, and the aura it gave off wasn’t entirely like humans either. Carefully pulling the cloth further back from the baby’s face, it revealed the reason as to why it seemed so familiar; its ears were mostly round- human ears- except the tips were slightly pointed, just like his were.

Fae. Father! Who has the shocking realisation that the baby was his own child. It all dawned upon him. Putting the clues and timing together it was obviously the woman he’d spent the last summer with who was the mother. He didn’t know that humans and fae could procreate and therefore didn’t think this would happen.

Fae. Father! Who didn’t know what to do or how to feel in the beginning. Since the baby was his, he thought he couldn’t just leave it alone. So he brought it with him to his home. Normally, he’d be a bit repulsed by the baby considering children were known to be messy, disruptive and loud. However, he found that the babe stopped crying the moment he took it in his arms as he was brining it back with him, and it had been quiet since then. For some reason, it warmed his heart. It had this unusual, soft feeling. He tried shaking it off as being to overwhelmed but as time went on, the feeling only grew.

Fae. Father! Who completely fell in love with you not long after finding you. You were very cute compared to other newborns- most likely a result of your fae DNA. Besides, you didn’t cry as much and showed great kindness early in life. The fae, after a couple weeks of just keeping you in his home, decided to fully accept you into his life. He couldn’t help it, you were just too cute!

Fae. Father! Who had to get his act together. He could no longer be adventurous like he’d been his entire life, he was a father now and it meant he had to be responsible. He couldn’t bare it of something happened to you because of his recklessness.

Fae. Father! Who spent every waking moment with you, either swimming in the lake as he’d done so many times before, playing in the forest or befriending the animals. But his absolute favourite activity was whenever you’d braid each others hair. Yours looked so lovely with all the summer’s flowers imbedded in it. He wasn’t going to lie, he also rather enjoyed the praise and compliments he got from you regarding his own hair. You weren’t very skilled in the art of braiding yet, and it was messy compared to his work, but he couldn’t love it more. It was something you had done for him; that you spent time and effort doing.

Fae. Father! Who had actually been feeling a little lonely. Perhaps that was the real reason to why he sought closeness with a human. He knew, however, that is couldn’t last. A human and a fae? They were just too different. She would pass on too quickly, and he’d be left alone again. That would make him have to repeat the process over and over, which was something he wasn’t interested in.

But you were half fae. There was of course the issue of how long you’d live. While you were half immortal, your other half wasn’t. Logically, you wouldn’t live as long as a regular fae. It worried Fae Father greatly. You couldn’t die. What would he do without you? He tried not to dwell on it too much- you were still young and full of life. He had time to figure out how to keep you alive forever.

So just play and be happy with him.

—-

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