#it is good but it feels a bit rushed and kind of cheap in some ways and i get that’s the style of these biopics sometimes but

[lhrry]

x

#aotv spoilers #ok you’re asking for my opinions let’s do it #i love louis!!!! im so proud of him and im so happy i got to watch him on his journey for so long and can’t wait for what’s to come for him #and i think my love for him and for his music and for my time in the fandím and for one d etc is what makes this a good watch and why i #liked it because otherwise i have my reservations to the movie and im not going to get into the babygate stuff #apart from the fact that louis trying to get freddie to hug him was extremely awkward and ive never seen less organic thing than the beach #scene and i find it funny they tried to push that as organic so hard #my issue is that it just had a potential to be a much better film is all sksmsk #it is good but it feels a bit rushed and kind of cheap in some ways and i get that’s the style of these biopics sometimes but #like it was such a shame the bg music was not really gold and was always exaggeratedly emotional because it made it cheesy and cheap and #kind of forced #i think it would have a great potential to get many people to say wow this is a strong talented guy and i think it is a great intro but i #think they undersold the movie so it’s not going to have a chance to reach an audience much wider than his current fanbase which is a shame #for his current fanbase it is a solidification and reiteration of his promo season and it is very clear where they want louis to stand and #what they want his image to be like and i think it’s absolutely amazing how they managed to show his growth as an artist and as a human and #and place him in a position where he’s now confident and secure and ready to embark on a new journey etc. although for the fans there’s #nothing new there and i think it’s worth considering how exactly they’re portraying and that they completely left out his relationships #aside from his family and the band #i think it’s important that it was noted he was undersestimated and pushed down and i think they made obvious how much he’s worked on #himself #i think it’s kinda clear they’re using it as a faith in the future promo with the new songs even though the doc ends with the end of the #tour #i think it’s interesting how many rainbow flags they chose to include without addressing the way his shows and fanbase look at all because #if i were from Gp id wonder what’s up with that esp when he only acknowledged the kmm project again #generally i think it’s a good watch that’s very transparent in what it’s trying to do for louis promo and image wise and it doesn’t tell #you anything new but it reminds you why you love this man so much while also leaving you a bit disappointed because this had a much #greater cinematic potential and a lot of it feels either rushed or underfinanced or forced and that’s a shame

[desolationtimstoker]

gerry keay (classic flavor):

skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life

eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers

his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:

- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.

- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.

- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.

- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.

he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.

black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.

we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.

the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.

sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.

he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.

gerry keay (tmagp):

goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.

we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!

no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.

the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.

loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."

he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.

his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.

there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.

#don't mind me just sorting through headcanons #gerry keay #gerry delano keay #tmagp #tma #my post

[yandere-romanticaa]

Dabi is such an interesting character to me. I find it so fascinating how he says that he does not care about some things, how he could not give a single crap about anything that's going on. With his easygoing attitude and flat tone, no one could blame you for thinking that way.

It was one of the many reasons why you wanted to break up with him.

Falling for Dabi to begin with was beyond unexpected. The man positively reeked of trouble. The second he stepped foot in your favorite coffee shop, you know that the only thing that guy could bring was chaos. The way he carried himself was a dead giveaway, even if most of his face was covered. You had no idea that he was a wanted criminal at the time and perhaps that was one of the reasons why you approached him to begin with.

Besides, life was just dull. Nothing was going on in your life, no sparks, no excitement. Every single day started to feel like the same shade of grey, the old colours of the world morphing into something so forgettable that it made you want to pull out your hair. So what if talking to this guy was a possible mistake?

It was better than nothing, you told yourself.

You can still recall his strong smell - smoke with a hint of some cheap cologne, perhaps a vain attempt to cover up that third metallic smell which couldn't be hidden no matter how hard he tried. Beneath that dark hoodie of his you could see his lips twitching and just as he was going to tell you off for bothering him, you introduced yourself.

The rest was, as they say, history.

Dabi was a bit of a weirdo but you didn't mind. You enjoyed his quirks and even liked to compliment his appearance from time to time, which made the villain wonder just how sick in the head you really were.

He never made any moves to shoo you away though.

And that stone cold fact was something which the League would often make fun of him for it. Dabi would usually end their jabs and jeers with an annoyed scoff and just leave the bar, hands in his pockets but no one was buying it.

Dabi wasn't sure if he wanted you near those clowns. The thought of someone else oogling you, in the same manner as he did, set him off. Dabi started to make the effort of seeing you more, whether or not you knew he was actually there was up for debate. He stuck to the shadows, tailing you day and night and he would reveal himself only if he saw fit.

Dabi wasn't sure why he was doing this, wasting his time with some weak little civilian.

When the day had ended and the sun was setting, Dabi would lazily walk back home. His mind would be rushing with thoughts of you, his knuckles in a tight grip as he kept them hidden in his deep pockets.

He could kill you whenever and however he damn well pleased.

Dabi had the terrifying ability to snuff the life out of you, and that thought gave him a rush of adrenaline, dare he say confidence.

Your life really was in his hands.

You often felt the need to explain away Dabi's red flags - he's just tired, that's why he's so cranky! Oh, he got mad that you went out with someone else? Well, um... There are so many bad guys out there, it makes sense that he would be worried. Because that is what a good boyfriend did - worry about his precious baby.

Dabi was smart (even a little kind) enough to keep his burn scars hidden away from you but the ones on his face were impossible to conceal. The villain would often find himself enchanted by your gentle touch as you'd trace your delicate fingers across the rough flesh, a stark contrast to the sheer softness you radiated.

He was often torn between two options - does he keep that softness safe or will he sink his fangs deep in your neck, claim you all for himself?

Day after day, the second opinion started to sound so much more appealing.

Dabi's love was all over the place. There would be times when you would hardly ever see him. No calls, no texts, no nothing. For all you knew he could have been dying in a ditch somewhere and you'd be none the wiser. You tried countless times to open up to you about his job but he would just shut you down in record speed. He would never get annoyed or angry with these questions but that did not ease your worries.

And with the prying eyes of friends and relatives, it got even harder to keep yourself so delusionally in love.

None approved of your relationship with Dabi. You shed countless tears due to their harsh protests, which often meant that you would run away straight into the arms of the main issue. Dabi would hold you in your bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His shirt would be covered in your tears and snot. Perhaps he would grumble about it later but not at the moment.

He was not a good person, but he did not want to be a complete monster towards you.

After these incidents, almost everyone who was ever close with you would start dropping like flies. All died violent, brutal deaths with the main cause usually being severe burns inflicted on the victims of various parts of their bodies. Sometimes the scarring was so deep that even days later the corpse would radiate heat, the disgusting smell or rot forever sticking to your nostrils.

To describe the experience of being forced to identify those bodies as "traumatic" would have been the understatement of the century.

The walk back home was excruciating, perhaps even a little otherworldly. There was no left in the world who cared for you anymore, no one you could run to for safety and comfort.

The only one who you had left was Dabi.

Maybe, it wasn't so bad, being with him that is. Yeah, he could be a little mean sometimes but he would always make it up to you. Dabi would call you his doll and pepper your face with gentle kisses, which often made you giggle. Sure, not knowing what Dabi was doing at the dead of night made you worry so much that you would sob until the cracks of daylight but that was okay because he would always cross the threshold of your home in one piece.

You only had Dabi to worry about, and that was... Odd to manage.

Gone were the walks with friends, meals with family. There was no living soul on this Earth which cared about you, wanted to see you happy and thrive.

Dabi was the only person left in your life.

And that was when the horrible realization hit like a bucket of ice cold water.

Dabi was the only person you had left.

Every single complaint, he had memorized them, each and every one. You knew that this was the case as he would sometimes bring up the most random things you had said months after you said them to begin with, proving the fact that he actually was paying attention.

The door opens with a powerful slam which startles the man. He asks you what's the problem but all hell breaks loose.

You scream, shout, cry. You accuse him of every possible crime he could have committed and he says nothing. Dabi sits on the sofa, his legs crossed as his cheek rests on the palm of his hand. You go on and on and Dabi doesn't bother to stop you.

Not until he lets out a deep chuckle.

Took ya long enough, he said to you. The tips of his fingers ignited with blue flames, a silent threat to keep you from screaming. You couldn't even bolt towards the door and there were no other escape routes.

He finally had you where he wanted you.

Dabi wasn't stupid. He knew that you planned on dumping him for a while now. He could not allow that, not now. Not when you had forced your way deep into his heart and made a home there. Dabi had nothing in this world and he made sure that you had nothing either.

Now, you had each other. And to him, that was more than enough.

#i was NOT kidding when i said I'm back in my bnha era #and ngl i missed writing for this maniac #yaaaaaasss king slayyy #SLAYYYYYY #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #mha dabi #bnha dabi #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 5 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: As things start to heat up even more with Molly, Bob realizes he can't get enough of her. But the way she switches gears on him is starting to give him whiplash. In a moment of jealousy, Molly almost embarrasses herself, but doesn't she know Bob is already hers?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Molly slept over at Bob's place, but when she woke up on Monday morning in his amazingly comfortable bed, he wasn't there. When she scooted over into his spot, it was still warm.

"Bobby?" she called in her sleepy voice, stretching her arms over her head, completely nude. There was no response, so she crawled out of his bed and thought about putting on some clothing before deciding against it. According to the time on Bob's alarm clock, she needed to be at work in two hours.

Molly grunted as she walked down the hallway toward something that smelled like breakfast. She moaned when she found Bob in the kitchen cooking, wearing his uniform pants and a white undershirt. He looked so good from behind. Tall and strong. His hair was tidy, and his clothing was neat. He looked exactly like the kind of man Molly thought she could trust.

That was a wild thought. She had no idea where that came from. "Bobby?" she asked again, and he spun to face her. His pretty eyes took her in, drank up her nude form. But she didn't feel cheap. She felt cherished.

"Morning, Mo."

Yep, that voice could destroy her ability to reason if she let it.

"Bobby," she crooned, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I didn't like waking up without you in bed. I like feeling your body next to me." She gave him a little pout for good measure, and he blushed for her.

It took him a few beats to answer, but she was in no rush now that she was with him. So she rested her chin on his chest and pouted with her best bedroom eyes as he sputtered, "I just thought maybe you'd like it if I made you breakfast."

"Actually, I love it, Bob. Please, make me all the breakfasts." She kissed his chin, then his cheek, then his lips. "What are you making anyway?"

He set his spatula down and took her face in both of his hands, and she thought she might melt. "Chocolate chip pancakes. I know you said you have a sweet tooth."

She moaned softly. "From scratch?"

"Yes."

"And you had chocolate chips?" 

Molly watched a deeper blush creep onto his cheeks. "Well, I bought them so I'd have them here just in case you decided you might want to sleep over, so that way I could use them to make you something sweet." He was rambling a bit, and she decided she had never seen anything she liked more than Bob.

Her fingers found his belt loops and then his lean abs beneath his undershirt. "What time do you have to work, Coach Bob?"

"Nine," he whispered as she stroked her fingers along his firm body.

"Me too," she replied, pressing a kiss to his bicep. "Gives us just enough time to do everything we need to do."

He dipped his head down to meet her lips in a soft kiss. "What do we need to do, Mo?"

"Eat chocolate chip pancakes. Have sex. I can take a shower. And we can go to work."

Bob's lips were all over hers again, and she started pulling his undershirt up his torso. "Good idea," she murmured against his mouth before pulling away to toss his shirt aside. "Let's have sex first." He backed her up against the kitchen counter, and she was so needy for him, the way he was taking charge.

His warm skin was pressed against hers, and she felt his hands between their bodies as he worked on his belt and his zipper. The rough khaki material brushed along her thighs as she asked, "Do you want me right now, Bobby?"

"Yes," he whispered, his voice harsh and his eyes frantic. "How could I not?"

She yanked down his underwear and licked his chest before turning in his arms and pressing her ass against his erection. She felt his hands on her hips immediately as he bucked against her. And then she took one of his hands in hers and guided it up her body, letting him touch her everywhere, letting him play with her piercings, before wrapping his fingers around the front of her neck.

She looked back at him over her shoulder and said, "I'm all yours."

------------------

Bob had never, as far as he could remember, had sex in a kitchen before. A month ago, if you had asked him if that was something he would want to do, he may have laughed at you. But now, on a Monday morning before work, he was having fast, sweaty sex with Molly in his own kitchen.

And Bob could already tell he'd like this to become a normal routine for him. He had his hand wrapped around her neck, which she really seemed to like, based on the sounds she was making. He loved how he could feel the vibrations of her moans against his fingers. Her back was arched, his other hand was on her breasts, and she was really wet. She felt too good. Maybe he'd just never been with someone he loved before, but Molly was almost too much for all of his senses at one time.

"Bobby!" she moaned over and over again as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "Fuck me harder." He'd do everything to her exact specifications as long as it meant he could be with her. Be her only one. But when he slid his hand down her belly and let his middle finger stroke her clit gently, she came completely undone for him.

His senses were overwhelmed. His skin was on fire. His ears were ringing. And he just wanted more as he came inside her. Molly's cheek came to rest on his countertop, and she took both of his hands in hers so he was bent over against her back.

"Bobby. Feed me some pancakes."

He was still inside her when he reached for a pancake from the stack, and Molly took a bite, moaning softly. "It's yummy," she murmured and Bob took a bite himself before feeding the rest to her.

They ate two more together, and he kissed her lips over her shoulder before his kisses found her neck and the top of her back. He had to suppress the desire to tell her he loved her again, but a moment later, she was wiggling out of his arms and turning to face him again. Bob's cock missed the warmth of her body, and his skin felt colder.

"I'm going to use your shower," she said, prancing away, leaving him alone with his pants down, holding a half eaten pancake.

After that, his day at work hit him like the harsh reality that it was. His daydream about living with Molly in a house where clothing wasn't allowed was put on hold. Maverick rode them all day long, barely giving them a break. But Bob wasn't as bad off as Bradley. He looked miserable, and then Mav grounded him. And when they got to tee ball practice, Bradley was all over Everett and Molly as soon as they arrived.

Bob had tried to warn him that Molly wasn't his biggest fan at the moment, but Bradley went for it anyway. Bob could see him pleading as Molly kept her chin in the air. Bradley had hurt her sister's feelings, and clearly Molly wasn't going to let him off the hook. It looked like she was laying into him, and Bob called Everett over to start getting warmed up.

"She's still mad at me," Bradley said, messing with his hat. "So is Molly. I don't know what to do."

"I'll talk to Molly again," Bob promised. "But you need to focus on tee ball right now."

"Right."

But Bob ran most of it himself, and when practice ended, Molly was making her way over to him. She looked a lot calmer now as she slipped her arms around his waist.

"I was wondering if you'd be into another round of fucking and feeding me."

Bob was a little speechless. "You wanna come over again?"

"Of course. If you want me to."

Bob just kissed her. He wanted Molly at his place all the time. "Come by whenever you want, okay? I just need to stop by Phoenix's place and drop something off for her. Then I'll be home."

"Your pilot is a woman?" Molly asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, you didn't know that?" he asked, watching most of the kids file up to the parking lot with their parents. "She's the best pilot I've ever worked with. Very talented and great at communicating in the air. Plus, she's become a good friend."

Molly just leaned up and kissed him before she whispered, "Well don't take too long at Phoenix's, okay? I'm going to drop Ev off, stop home, and then I'll head to your condo."

"Okay," he agreed, head filled with the sensations of Molly. He completely forgot that Piper was still running around with Everett and that his sister, Rebecca, was there to pick Piper up. When Bob's hand slipped a little lower on Molly's waist as they kissed, he heard his sister clear her throat.

He pulled away from Molly, but she continued to reach for him, and the look on Rebecca's face as Molly's lips met his neck had Bob frozen in place.

"Hey, Bob," Rebecca said with a huge, amused smile on her face. "I was just going to pick up Piper and run home."

"Hey, Becks," he managed, and Molly finally stopped kissing him and turned to look at his sister.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?" she asked in that obnoxious voice that both of his sisters always used when they were clearly picking on him.

"She's not my-" Bob started, but he was immediately cut off.

"Hi, I'm Molly." He watched his sister shake hands with her as she added, "You must be Piper's mom? Bob's sister?"

The two made polite conversation, and Bob watched Rebecca drink in Molly's appearance. She looked impressed, and Bob didn't know whether or not he should be insulted. But truthfully, Molly was very attractive.

"Uncle Bob," Piper said, pulling on his hand. "Your girlfriend is pretty."

"Thanks," he whispered back, certain that Molly had heard his niece before Rebecca took her to the car.

"Where were we?" Molly asked, running her hand down the front of Bob's baseball pants and stroking him through the fabric next to the deserted bleachers. Everett was in the parking lot with Bradley, and they were alone. "Oh, right. I'll meet you at your place soon. You should leave these pants on."

--------------------

Bob practically tossed his toolbox at Nat when she opened her door. "What's the rush? Come in and have a drink."

"I can't," he panted, jerking his thumb to his truck which was idling at the curb. "Molly's coming over."

"Robert Floyd, you dog." Her smirk was just devilish as she shook her head. "Go get laid. I fully endorse it."

But then he considered her words and Molly's actions, and he quietly asked, "Am I having too much sex, Nat?"

She exploded with laughter that made him feel like an idiot as he turned and walked away. She called after him as he shook his head. "If she wants it all the time, that's a good thing! Means you're exciting!"

Bob drove home in dismay. He really didn't trust himself to hold Molly's attention much longer, especially if Nat said he was exciting. Because he wasn't. And the novelty of being with nerdy Bob was going to wear off soon, because Molly could probably be dating a celebrity or an athlete if she wanted to.  

And were they even dating? What was actually going on? Molly told him she wasn't seeing anyone else, but was he supposed to ask her to be his girlfriend? Did he even want to? Because what if she said no? What if she dumped him next month?

He sighed and pulled into his condo parking lot, now more anxious than excited to see Molly. She pulled in and parked right next to him, and when he climbed out of his truck, she was almost instantly in his arms. Before she said anything, her lips were all over his, her fingers were in his hair, and he had her pressed up against her car. The soft buzzing of the streetlight was the only thing he could hear except for the sounds of her moans as she kissed him.

Oh, he was weak. He was a weak man. Molly took him by the hand and led him to the main entrance where he entered the passcode for the building without a word. Then they were in the elevator, and her hand was up his shirt. And then they were in his condo, and she had her top off and her bra unclasped before the door was even closed. He tripped along behind on the way to his bedroom, and she stepped out of her shoes and jeans along the way, leaving an enticing trail for him to follow.

"Mo," he grunted when she turned on his bedside lamp and made her way to where he was standing.

"The baseball pants," she moaned, unzipping them and dropping to her knees in front of him. "Oh, Lieutenant Floyd." She was looking up at him with both hands wrapped around his hard length, kissing his tip and licking him. "What are you doing to me?"

That question was so funny coming from her, and Bob would have taken some more time to dwell on it, but she was burying her face in his balls and licking him everywhere. "Oh, fuck," he groaned.

"Bobby, you said a bad word," she whispered, those perfect lips grazing him with each syllable. The way she was looking up into his eyes as she nibbled softly on him really solidified just how weak he was. "I want you to be bad with me."

He tore his tee shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He knew his glasses were crooked, and he probably looked crazed, but when he said, "Stand up," Molly was on her feet in less than a second. Her pupils were blown wide, and her lips were parted, and when Bob stroked both of her nipples at the same time, she shivered. "I love the way you shake, Honey. I love everything." She whimpered as he kissed her softly and commanded, "Get on the bed."

Molly scrambled onto her back and scooted until her butt was almost hanging over the edge. She planted her feet there with her legs spread wide, and Bob could see that she was dripping wet. He was thrusting into her without any hesitation, and she was already keening. With his hands planted next to her shoulders, he let his lips find those pretty silver barbells, and he teased her breasts with his tongue.

"Bobby! Harder!" He snapped his hips against her, and she gasped. But a few seconds later she was demanding more. "Harder." He did as he was told, honestly a little afraid he was going to hurt her, but she was moaning his name so prettily and slowly shaking her head. But the third time she asked for more, he leaned closer to her ear and panted.

"Honey, I don't want to hurt you. I was raised to respect women."

"Oh god!" she moaned. "That's so fucking hot. Now fuck me harder."

"But Molly-"

"Bobby, you can manhandle me like a slut when we're in bed together on occasion, okay? I want you to, so please respect what I want." His eyes went wide as her lips met his in the sweetest kiss. "I promise I'll tell you if you're hurting me. And maybe later we should discuss a safe word. Now... harder. Please."

So Bob fucked her as hard as he could, a little afraid that his neighbors could hear them, because he was getting into it now, too. She just felt so damn good, and her fingers were in his hair, yanking. And then they were on his biceps, squeezing. And then she came, back arched and tears in her eyes, shaking and shivering. But Bob knew what she liked now, and without thinking too much about it, he came all over her pussy, belly and pretty tits.

"Oh," she sighed, lips still quivering as she ran her fingers through his cum and licked them. Then she looped both of her feet around the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. She dipped her middle finger in his cum, fed it to him, and then licked his mouth clean. And a moment later, she was standing in front of him and straightening his glasses. "Do you want to watch a movie or something, Coach Cute Glasses?"

And just like that, like the flip of a switch, Bob found himself all cleaned up with Molly wearing his clothing, snuggled up on the couch. She looked cute in his clean undershirt and underwear, holding his hand and eating popcorn. For about every five kernels she ate, she fed one to him, her fingertips grazing his lips. And then every so often, her lips brushed his cheek or his neck before she returned to her popcorn, starting the cycle all over again.

Bob wasn't even sure what they were watching. It seemed like some sort of documentary about a serial killer, but he wasn't paying any attention to it. Molly finished the bowl of popcorn, set it on the floor and snuggled up with her head in his lap. And it wasn't sexual at all. He felt so calm and comfortable with his arm draped across her and his fingers tangled with hers. When she brought his fingers to her lips, she kissed his knuckles softly and sighed.

"Are we watching a murder documentary, Mo?" he asked, and she turned to look up at him.

"Well, yeah. They're my favorite. Do you hate it?"

"No," he said with a chuckle. "I don't hate it. I don't think I could hate anything you like."

"I like ice cream with chocolate sauce, marshmallow fluff, sprinkles, and melted caramel."

"That sounds gross, actually," he whispered, "but I would feed it to you."

She laughed and played with his hand, and soon Bob was stretched out on the couch with Molly on top of him. She was straddling his waist, and holding both of his hands above his head. But it still wasn't overly sexual. She was just placing kiss after soft kiss to his lips and telling him things that made him laugh.

When she released his hands, he let them settle on her lower back as she wrapped hers around the back of his neck. She stroked his stubbled jaw with her thumbs and whispered, "You're so handsome."

He knew he was blushing as he murmured, "I think you just like the glasses."

She pushed them up and removed them before kissing the bridge of his nose. "I do like your glasses, but you're just as handsome without them."

Bob opened his mouth, but the words he was thinking died on his lips when she kissed him again. "It's so late," she said, easing her body off of his and slowly standing. Bob watched her stretch and then bend to pick up the popcorn bowl. "You have work in the morning. I'll just leave when you get up."

Bob stood and followed her into the kitchen. He put the bowl in the dishwasher for her. "You could hang out here tomorrow. If you want. I could leave you my spare key."

You were gaping at him.

"That was a stupid idea," he muttered, closing the dishwasher. "I'm sure you have things you need to get done."

"Yeah..." she said. "I need to watch more of the serial killer documentaries and take a nap."

He smiled. "You could do that here. And then when I get home, we can have dinner together."

Ten minutes later, Bob was falling asleep with Molly wrapped around his body after she put his spare key on her keyring.

------------------------

Molly was a mess. She woke up with Bob, and promptly decided that she didn't ever want to stop waking up with Bob. And then she snuggled him so long that he had to remind her that he'd be late for work if he didn't leave soon. While he took a shower, she decided to try to make him breakfast, but everything looked too intimidating. So she nervously told him that she had some black coffee and a bowl of cereal ready for him when he walked out in his uniform.

He just blinked at her, those pretty greenish-blue eyes examining her face. "Nobody ever got me breakfast before. Thank you." And she sat on his thigh at his kitchen table while he quickly ate his cereal and drank his coffee.

"I'm sorry if I made you late," she said apprehensively.

"You didn't," he insisted, kissing her lips. "I'll be home after five. We'll get dinner."

She nodded and stood so he could leave, but he hesitated and kissed her deeply one more time before he left. And then Molly practically floated back to his bed and fell asleep with her nose buried in his pillow. She dozed on and off until almost noon when her stomach started growling. This was her routine for her days off, always trying to catch up on the sleep she was missing out on. But now she was going to have to find something to eat. Was she just supposed to eat Bob's food?

She shuffled back into the kitchen and texted him as she went. 

Coach Bob, can I eat something from your fridge for lunch?

Molly scoped out some of the options, and he wrote back a few minutes later.

Coach Cute Glasses: Have anything you want, Honey. 

She smiled at her phone and then promptly made herself a salad and a sandwich. His fridge was filled with delicious, healthy options. It was mind blowing. Like she was sleeping with a real adult who went grocery shopping. She peeked at Bob's mail on the counter while she ate. His place was so tidy, almost nothing was out except for what looked like a monthly subscription to an aeronautics magazine and what appeared to be a mortgage statement based on the return address.

This man had a fridge full of real food and a mortgage. What the hell was he doing with Molly? God, he'd probably come to his senses while he was at work today and kick her out when he got home. She caught herself pouting. She could be good enough for Bob. She wasn't sleeping around. She wouldn't. She wasn't using him for his nice place. She wouldn't do that either. She liked him. A lot. But she didn't really have anything to offer him which was filling her up with a weird insecure feeling that she didn't like. 

She was careful the rest of the afternoon not to make too much of a mess. She washed her dishes and put them away. She took a shower and folded up the towel. She would have put a little bit of makeup on so she didn't look so plain, but she hadn't brought anything with her. Instead she spent the rest of the day watching a documentary and looking at all of the things on Bob's bookshelf. She read every book title and examined every framed photo. There was one of him with Piper and Rebecca and another woman who must have been his other sister. There was one of Bob when he was about Everett's age with his parents. There was one of an elderly woman, and Molly wondered if that was his grandma who taught him how to drive. She wondered if he called her Nana or Grammy. 

Everything in his condo was tidy but interesting, and she was still flipping through some of his novels when Bob unlocked the front door and rushed inside, almost like he couldn't wait to see her. Like he was trying to make sure she was still there. And he looked gorgeous in that khaki uniform. Molly had to press her lips together to stifle a moan as he approached her on the couch. 

"Well, hello there, Lieutenant Floyd," she said, saluting him as she stood.

He groaned. "I missed you all day."

Oh, shit. There it was. He kept saying the sweetest things that made her want to fuck him. And she couldn't help it. She really couldn't. Because even after a full workday, his hair looked immaculate, and she needed to mess it up for him. His uniform was flawless, and she needed to see it all wrinkly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. The faint smell of jet fuel clung to him, and Molly's core clenched. "Oh," she whined against his mouth. A shiver passed through her body, and when she met his eyes, he looked a little crazed. "Will you fuck me?" she asked softly, absolutely throbbing for him now. She needed him. It was like any time he was away from her for more than a few minutes and then returned, she needed to feel him hard and inside her.

"Yes," he growled, and she practically ran to his bedroom. 

He followed her there and started to unbutton his shirt but she whined, "Keep the uniform on," until his hands stilled. He looked as excited as she felt, and then she whispered, "Lieutenant Floyd." He had her down on the bed, and he was on top of her. He was rough, yanking down the borrowed underwear that she had on and then pushing her thighs apart.

"Oh my god," she moaned, running her hands over all the khaki fabric and metallic pins. "I love uniform time."

Bob pushed his glasses up on his nose and smirked. "I think I outrank you, Mo."

"Fuck, Bobby. Don't say shit like that unless you intend to do something about it."

She watched his eyebrows quirk up, and a second later, she was flat on her belly with her bare asscheek cupped in Bob's hand. She looked back at him over his shoulder as he stroked her softly. She wanted him to do it. She needed him to do it. And the sound she made when he spanked her was animalistic. Bob spanked her a second time, a little harder, and Molly cried out, "Yes!"

"Do you like it?" he asked next to her ear. "Or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't stop!" she said, and soon she was chanting those words interspersed with, "Harder!" She came for him without any penetration and without his hands on her pussy. She came as she ground herself against the bedding in between spankings. And when Bob finally fucked her, he was filling her with his hot cum after just a few thrusts. 

"Molly!" he cried out, his voice so loud over her heavy breathing. Her ass was sore, and Bob was laying on top of her now, but she felt amazing. Perfect. Bob spanked her. In his sexy uniform. Until she came. She loved him. She really thought she did. Because he was so sweet, literally perfect. But he was also willing to do those things for her, because he knew that's what she wanted. 

"Bobby?" she whispered as he kissed the back of her neck. His fingers were linked with hers, and she could feel his uniform insignia pins digging into her back, but she didn't want him to move. 

"Honey," he whispered, running his nose along her cheek. He was still inside her a few minutes later, whispering all kinds of things that Molly never knew she wanted to hear when his doorbell rang. He started to move, and right away she felt too cold. She felt her lips pouting as he stood with a soft moan. She slid off the bed, reveling in the delicious feel of his cum seeping out of her and onto her inner thighs. 

Bob was tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. But his shirt was wrinkly and untucked. His hair was disheveled. His glasses were crooked and smudged. It was so obvious what they had just done. 

"Were you expecting someone?" Molly asked, pulling his underwear up her legs.

He sighed deeply and headed for his bedroom door. "Kind of. I'm sure it's Nat. She is going to have a fit if she sees you here."

"Nat?" she asked, following him down the short hallway. Who the hell was Nat? And Molly had every right to be here. Bob invited her! Who was Nat?

Bob looked back at her, completely flustered. "I'll try to make this quick, but sometimes she likes to invite herself in. Sometimes she wants to stay for a drink. She's really used to being the only woman who can make me do what she wants."

He pulled his door open, and Molly caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman who handed Bob a toolbox and kissed his cheek. "Don't know what I'd do without you," she said in a voice that Molly could acknowledge was very sexy even through her jealousy. Then she patted Bob on the chest and slipped inside the condo before she froze in place. Her dark brown eyes went wide as soon as she saw Molly, and her lips slowly parted until she was gaping in surprise.

This woman was gorgeous, but Molly was no slouch. And she'd just had Bob's cock so deep inside her, she was probably walking a little crooked. And she was wearing Bob's underwear and undershirt in lieu of actual clothing. And she'd spent the night here!

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Molly asked her. Because if she was being two timed, she'd rather find out right now from this woman instead of having Bob try to lie to her later. She'd been there and done that before.

"I'm Nat," she said, reaching out to shake hands. "And you must be the famous Molly."

"You've heard of me," Molly said, looking past Nat to Bob who was blushing profusely now. But he didn't look too agitated otherwise.

Nat laughed, still holding her hand out. "Of course I've heard of you. Bob talks about nothing else these days. In the cockpit. Out of the cockpit. At lunch. Just Molly."

Molly's heart thudded in her chest and she took a small step closer. "Are you Phoenix?"

"Yeah. Phoenix. Natasha. Nat. All of the above." Molly lunged for her hand and shook it.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, a mix of embarrassment and wonder filling her up. "Bob has told me a lot about you. Well, besides your first name."

She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly in response. "I'm not going to stay. I can see that neither of you are dressed for entertaining. Well, entertaining each other, perhaps...." Nat's eyes drifted down her body to Bob's underwear, but Molly was too relieved to feel embarrassed.

"I'll see you again?" she asked Nat, and the other woman smiled.

"I have no doubt."

Then she turned back toward Bob and whispered something to him before she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

"What did she tell you?" Molly asked, wrapping her arms around Bob's waist.

"Nothing I didn't already know," he replied, looking at the floor before meeting her eyes. "She said you're hot. Way out of my league."

Molly just let her cheek rest on his chest before she said, "Can we order something in? And cuddle during another documentary?"

"I'd love that."

-------------------------

We love "uniform time". And Molly loves being spanked. But her actions are starting to make Bob's self confidence a little rocky. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 6

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #the curveball #batting practice #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd imagine

[melswifeasf]

Was it ever real? pt. 2

part one.

Fandom: Yellowjackets

Pairing: Shauna Shipman x fem!reader

Genre: angst; smut; fluff.

Words: 8.2k+

Summary: part two of this imagine. your relationship with Shauna is all you could ever ask for but it’s starting to feel too good to be true.

Notes: sorry it took me forever to get this up, i was kinda lost on where i wanted to finish it but i hope you guys like what i chose. it feels a little rushed it’s because it was but i know you guys wanted this up so i tried my best.

not spell checked!

you were completely and utterly in love with Shauna Shipman. that wasn't a surprise to anyone who knew you, especially not to those who had known you before and after you started dating the brunette. she had you in her hold and you weren't sure you could ever pull away. not only did you not think you were capable of it, even if you were, you wouldn't want to. it was as if your whole world had changed. in no way had you had a sad life before her but having her in your life now just made you realize the beige filter on your life before then.

being in love with her was the greatest feeling you could've ever experienced. you didn't think you could ever love and gone in that way. Shauna had made sure of that since your first date.

New years had been the day that you told her. you'd known before then, possibly since the moment you laid eyes on her but it wasn't until the clock was counting down and there were screams and teens talking around you that you couldn't hold it in anymore. you were both in Lotties basement, your friends all around you while almost everyone had on some kind of new year prop on them, including you who had a black sparkly hat and Shauna who had on a purple bead necklace. the cheap ones that you'd find at the dollar store. her hands were on your waist, holding your body that was clothed with a sparkly red dress. your hair was curled and you had on a pair of black heels that made you Shaunas height. the brunette had on a dress as well, one that Jackie had told her to wear. you thought about telling her to wear whatever made her comfortable but you knew she'd just go along with Jackie anyway.

the whole night you spent it by her side, her arm around your waist that would only leave its place when it absolutely had to but not a second later it would be back. by the time it was a minute away from midnight, you were a little drunk you could admit but you were sober enough to know exactly what you were doing. the brunette didn't drink, she had driven you both there and she would be driving you home. as soon as Randy announced there was one minute left, you turned to look at Shauna and wrapped you arms around her neck.

the minute was spent with your eyes locked on hers. they were sparkling with the blinking colorful lights around the room. there was a loud countdown that was drowned out. you couldn't hear the wasted voices or the screams from your friends. it was just Shauna with her shy smile. your girlfriend who had been devouring you with her eyes all night. your girlfriend who looked at you with so much adoration that could practically make your heart explode.

3... 2... 1...

i love you. the words had left your lips in a whisper. even with the screams and cheers she heard you, that you knew for a fact. she blushed red and you'd never forget the smile that overcame her lips. her lips crashed down on yours in that instant, pouring out her answer. her lips were fast yet soft, there was so much emotion that it made you dizzy and light headed. she had to grip your hip a bit tighter when she pulled away to make sure you wouldn't fall.

and so she whispered the words back to you.

the hallways were crowded with talking teens who were either hanging by their locker or walking out of the school. the bell had rung signaling the end of class. typically you'd walk to soccer practice hand in hand with your girlfriend but she was nowhere to be seen. Jackie had passed a note to you during English, it was from Shauna, you could tell by the handwriting.

meet me on the field after school

-Shauna<3

there was a sense of excitement bubbling inside of you. Shauna was sweet and loved to get you all kind of surprises. it seemed as if your words on your first date stuck with her since they were said. she'd get you flowers spontaneously, send you little notes during class or sometimes letters in your lockers. there was even a time during your period that she made you a basket of all your favorite candies and snacks and a teddy bear that smelled just like her. sometimes she'd even surprise you with dates, whether it was on a picnic or to a movie and dinner.

you were sure this would be something of the sort. what did weird you out was the fact that you hadn't seen any of your friends. usually if Shauna wasn't with you, they would be. you tried not to think about it too much as you walked toward the soccer field as fast as possible. it didn't take long for it to come into your sight. the sun was shinning brightly down on you so you had to squint and put your hand over them to block the sun. at first, you were too far away to see but slowly your eyes adjusted.

it was impossible to bite back the grin that broke out and the way a small gasp left your lips. once you saw your girlfriend looking at you with a shy smile and a poster in her hands, you practically ran to her. the rest of the team were around her, five of them holding up a sign with a huge letter scribbled on it.

P R O M ?

you didn't seem to be stopping as you ran to the brunette causing Shauna to drop her sign and flowers as she caught you in her arms. your feet were lifted off the ground as she caught you and spinner you slightly to catch her balance. you pulled away from her for a second to peck her lips repeatedly before you hugged her again. you could feel eyes on you which were no doubt from the rest of the soccer team which slowly made you realize that you had yet to give a verbal answer.

finally you pulled away from her and your feet landed on the grass. everyone was staring at you with a raised brow, complete silence overcoming the field. Shauna was still looking at you with that same shy smile causing yours to widen. you didn't give a verbal response at first as you picked her lips once, "yes!" you said before kissing her once more. the response causing the girls to begin to cheer loudly and soon after a hurdle of bodies tackled the two of you causing your teeth to clash and the kiss to stop.

it seemed as if the girls were more excited than both of you as they all began to cheer and jump as if they had just won nationals. when the girls had finally calmed down and gave you both space, Shauna bent down to grab the flowers and poster before she handed the lillie's to you and let you admire the poster better.

the record player in your room had a disc playing making the song echo throughout the room. the house was alone aside from you and your girlfriend. your parents had gone out of town for the weekend, initially it was supposed to be a family thing but it turned into a romantic getaway when you realized you could spend the weekend with your girlfriend instead of your disgustingly romantic parents. they didn't need that much convincing to let you stay which told you all you needed to know.

it was Saturday; Shauna and you had spent Friday at a party. Saturday morning was spent making breakfast - which was really lunch and watching movies. you were a bit hungover and neither of you felt like going anywhere. you wanted to take advantage of the empty house. your parents would always have you and Shauna in your living room and the one time she let her go in your room you had keep the door open. the only times Shauna could be in your room would be when you'd sneak her in but you had to be quiet otherwise your parents could hear considering their room was right beside yours. you knew for a fact, they'd be able to hear anything and everything. it was rather unfortunate how you had to find out of such thing.

once it started getting dark you ordered some food and spent some time talking about anything and everything. it was one of the things you loved about Shauna, she never ran out of things to talk about. it wasn't until about an hour after you ate dinner that the conversation turned into kissing. it was your plan to do so, while she ranted about her last game, you began to scoot closer and closer until your lips began to kiss her neck softly. she quickly got the hint after that.

it was how you landed in the position you were in now, her body on top of yours with her in between your legs. her lips were moving against yours hungrily. your knee was bent and she was running her palm up and down your thigh. every time she'd move her hand up, she'd move your shorts further up your body.

Shauna wasn't a virgin, she had told you that two months after you started dating. she had lost it during the summer before junior year. it was someone from another school, a jock, someone Jackie had introduced her to and practically pushed her into his arms. it wasn't horrible but if she could take it back she would. especially now. what she would give to share her first time with her girlfriend and not some douche who didn't bother to ask if she was okay when he finished.

the hand that wasn't on your thigh was cupping your jaw as she dominated the kiss. Shauna had never really been all that dominate throughout the relationship, most of the time you'd be the one leading her to where you want or telling her what you want but it was different then and there. she was the one caressing your skin without you moving her hand there, she was the one who laid you down and began to kiss you hungrily. it was obvious you were both impatient, having been together for almost six months without actually doing anything intimate.

Shauna was too shy to ever initiate it and you weren't exactly ready. although you never believed in the whole 'losing your virginity' hype, it still scared you. there were too many things to worried about and considering Shauna never pushed you, it just felt easier to wait.

you just couldn't wait any longer. the brunette moved her hand away from your jaw and moved it down your body until she reached the end of your shirt. she pulled away for a second, her eyes searching yours for some kind of consent. you smiled softly and nodded your head. that seemed to be enough for her as she leaned down to peck your lips before pulling away altogether. she began to pull the shirt over your head which made you sit up carefully. once it was off, she threw it on the floor beside her and leaned down to kiss you again.

this wasn't her first time seeing you in a bra, she had seen you changing in the locker rooms more than once but it was the first time you were both alone. Shauna bit your bottom lip softly causing a small noise to erupt from your throat. Shauna didn't make it obvious that she had heard you but she definitely had. you would've been able to tell by the smirk that flashed across her lips but you were distracted by the wet kisses that were being trailed down your neck. she was leaving marks, no doubt but you didn't care in that moment. your eyes were screwed shut as you tried not to make any embarrassing noises. the only reaction Shauna could feel from you was your hand gripping onto her hair tightly.

her lips didn't stop even when they were met with your bra. instead of waiting for her to ask for your permission, you arched your back and took the black laced bra off in a second. Shauna pulled away as you did so, her eyes not leaving yours until you threw the bra somewhere in the room. when it was off, her eyes trailed down your body until they reached your bare skin. you felt a sudden surge of shyness overcome you causing you to reach up and pull your girlfriend down by her neck. she didn't complain as her lips were back on yours.

as her wet lips moved against yours she reached down to take off her own shirt, she pulled away for a moment before leaning back down. you didn't have to open your eyes to know what her body looked like under the black shirt she was once wearing. her toned body was engraved into your memory. every time you made out, your hands would creep under her shirt to caress her toned stomach which you knew she loved. every little detail about her was in your head and you weren't sure it would ever leave.

the kissing alone was turning you on and you were growing impatient. you could feel the dampness in your underwear and a part of you wondered if she could feel you. that thought didn't linger though. sensing that Shauna wasn't sure enough to do so on her own, you grabbed her free hand and moved it down your stomach until it was inside of your shorts. she pulled away in that instant, her eyes searching yours carefully. the way she looked so concentrated and concerned made a small smile to form on your lips. you loved this about her. you just loved her.

her touch was a bit clumsy and you could practically feel her nerves radiating off her body. it made you frown, knowing neither of you were experienced and you knew all she wanted was to make you feel good. instead of voicing your reassurance, you searched for her eyes. once she finally locked eyes with you, a small smile formed on your lips and you leaned forward to kiss her softly. a whisper escaped your lips when you pulled away, "i love you."

your words were more than enough for her confidence to come back, "i love you too" she mumbled before leaning back down to kiss you passionately. with her lips on yours, you had almost forgotten her hand inside your shorts until she began to run her finger up and down your slit. you gasped softly at the touch, your back arching into her and your lips stopped moving against hers. she pulled away after that, her eyes showing nothing but concern, "are you okay? did i hurt you?" she asked worriedly.

you shook your head quickly, "keep going," you said and gripped the back of her neck tightly. she almost smiled at your reaction but held herself back. she began to grow more confident with every gasp and moan that rippled from your throat and when she felt you were wet enough, she pushed two fingers inside of you. the action caused you to pull away completely, a rather loud gasp leaving your lips. she froze instantly, her eyes searching yours to make sure you were okay. when you nodded at her, she took it as her hint to keep going. she moved in a slow pace at first, trying to get used to the feeling and listening to exactly what would make you react the most.

until you were growing far too needy, "faster," you whimpered, gripping at the back of her neck even tighter. she nodded and did as you said, her eyes trained on yours. as much as you tried to keep your eyes locked on hers, you couldn't control the way they snapped shut from the intensity of it.

she bit her lip as she thought of the advice Tai had given her. it was stupid, really. three months ago, while at a party Taissa made a sexual comment which made Shauna feel a bit intrigued. she had never been with a girl and neither had you meaning it was likely your first time would probably be a let down, something she didn't want. it made her seek advice from Tai, she was hesitant to do so, expecting the taller girl to laugh or tease but she didn't. in fact, she seemed like she genuinely wanted to help. maybe it was the fact that she had been in her same position before and she would've loved to have someone give her advice for her first time, she wasn't sure. but she did help Shauna and in this moment, she was racking back to all the points she had given her.

she had done pretty much everything, made sure you were turned on enough so it wouldn't hurt, went slow until you told her to speed up. the only thing she could think of were two things, hitting you at a certain angle which she can't quite find and another thing.

without a second though her fingers curled inside of you causing your eyes to open, "fuck," you moaned. she looked at you, waiting for your response. "keep doing that." you nodded making her chest swell with pride.

as she kept going, it began to grow harder for her to move in a steady pace. while she was thinking that she was hurting you, you began to feel a pressure in your lower abdomen that made your nails dig into the brunettes skin. you didn't have time to feel bad about it as a certain pump made your body climax. you moaned loudly, your back arching and your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head. Shaunas face flushed at the sight, her movements not stopping as she tried to help your ride out of the high you were feeling.

when you finally landed back on earth, you gasped at her movements, far too sensitive. she got the hint when you reached for her hand so she'd stop. you looked blissed out, your eyes closed and your face flushed, all of it making Shauna feel more than confident.

the brunette grabbed her shirt along with your own. she put hers on and set yours on the bed for when you felt like it. once her shirt was on her body she laid down on the bed beside you, her body turned on her side so she was facing you. it took you a minute before you grabbed your shirt and slipped it on, then you turned on your side like your girlfriend had done.

"was that okay?" she asked shyly. her words made a smile breakout on your face.

"are you kidding? that was amazing" you confessed lovingly. you moved closer to her and placed your hand on the girls cheek softly. she smiled at the action and let your lips press against her own. it was soft and loving until she felt your hand start to wander down her body. she quickly pulled away.

"tonight was about you," she said, her big brown eyes showing nothing but adoration. you frowned.

"you don't want to?"

Shauna shook her head quickly, "of course i do," she reassured and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "but i wanted tonight to be all about you." she admitted. you nodded with a small smile.

"okay," you whispered. the brunette hummed and pulled you into her chest. you could hear how fast her heart was beating and it made your own heart beat at the thought. you loved her. more than anything and you were afraid you'd lose her somehow. even the thought made your stomach turn. how could you live without her? without her kisses and her hugs, without her brown eyes looking at you across the room. without her shy smiles and hearing how much she loves you. how could you live without Shauna Shipman?

"i love you," you whispered into the room, hoping those words would have the same affect on her as they always did on you. they did. you didn't miss the way her heart beat loudly against her chest as soon as those words were said.

"i love you too" she responded. if only she could hear the affect those words had on your heart.

she didn't feel the same. if only you had known the truth then. you wouldn't have been relieved that you spoke so loudly and you most definitely wouldn't have accepted her request. after hearing your secret, Jackie wouldn't leave her alone. she kept going on and on about how you were pretty and kind to her and you would make a great couple but all Shauna could think about was Jackie and Jeff. she didn't want you. it didn't click to her, not on the drive home and not during the three hour long conversation Jackie had with her in which all she talked about was the double dated the four could go on and all of the things that came with her best friend having a girlfriend. it did once she was getting ready to fall asleep. having you could distract her and she wouldn't be the only single one. she wouldn't have to feel the longing of wanting to have what Jackie had with Jeff. she would finally feel what being with another person and not being a third wheel was. you seemed to really like her and that would make anyone feel better about themselves and she didn't want to take that for granted.

so the next morning when she picked up Jackie to go to school, she told her that she'd take her advice and ask you out.

what had you just read?

it was just a rundown of what was written in that book. you left out the part on how she thought you were spoiled and how you got around the school. you left out the part in which she just wanted to feel loved.

how stupid could you be? how stupid could you be to believe that she would love you back? that you were lucky enough to have admitted to liking someone and that person liking you back?

you always protected your feelings, or at least you tried to. how did it not click that it was too good to be true?

the pain was unbearable. you couldn't even begin to explain what it felt like, even if you tried. was this a heartbreak? it was. Shauna Shipman had managed to be your first love and your first heartbreak all in the matter of six months.

you hadn't meant to read it. you didn't even mean to have found it. it was the morning after and Shaunas parents wanted her home so you went with her. your parents wouldn't be home til late that night and you didn't want to be alone. she was in the shower when you found it. you weren't looking for it, you weren't planning on reading it and you felt wrong to it. you just couldn't explain the need to, you couldn't explain the feeling in your chest that you had to read it. in the end, you were right. there was a reason you felt that urge, a reason you felt in your chest. it was to protect you. to protect yourself from looking stupid for any longer.

when you began to read it, you felt wrong doing it. you felt dirty and like it was an invasion of privacy. that didn't last longer than a second. you didn't read anything before the day she said yes, not wanting to invade her privacy to that extant. you just had to know what she felt the day that she accepted your outing.

you deserved to know. you deserved to know that she didn't love you. that she only used you. that you were just a joke to her. you deserved to know that you have yourself to someone who didn't deserve it. that you had reserved yourself for so long just to fall into her trap. fuck her.

the door opened behind you but you didn't flinch. your eyes were trained on the book on the desk in front of you. you didn't even turn when she spoke. "my parents are on their way home, they said they want us to go to lunch with them but only if your comfortable. they can be a little overwhelming" she admitted with a small chuckle. her words didn't register, you didn't have the mind to think about the fact that her parents were actually trying with you after telling their daughter that they wanted her to date a guy. they were never disrespectful or all that homophobic but they did express the fact that they wanted their daughter to be with someone that wouldn't cause others to hate her. you should've listened to them.

Shaunas brows furrowed in slight confusion at your lack of words. her mouth opened to speak but it shut just as quickly when you turned around, her diary in your hand.

"what is this?" you asked, eerily calm. Shauna looked confused at first, her eyes moved away from you and to the book in an instant before she looked at you once more. there was panic in her eyes and you didn't miss the way they glanced at it twice more before she finally took a step toward you.

she didn't get far, just enough so that she wasn't across the room from you. "you read my journal?" she asked, both hurt and panic written all over her features.

you scoffed in disbelief. "what the fuck is this Shauna?" you pressed, not at all caring what she to say about you. it didn't matter that you fucked up by invading her privacy, not in that moment.

at your angry tone and the anger swirling in your eyes, her panic officially set in. she had to fix it. "just let me explain," she said quickly, taking a step toward you but you flinched causing her to freeze in her spot. she had fucked up majorly. she knew that. god did she know that. it didn't matter what she said or did, you wouldn't forgive her and she couldn't blame you.

"no." you said firmly while holding your hand up so she wouldn't come any closer to you. "tell me what the fuck this is." the words were stern and your tone was harsh. they left a heavy tension in the air and they cut deep into Shaunas heart. you'd never been like this. never with her. there were barely any arguments and when there were, they were small and were resolved usually in the same day. this wouldn't be the same.

Shaunas eyes began to water and it was taking everything in you to not match her emotions. it was taking everything in you to remain angry instead of broken, to show that you were pissed off and not that you were feeling the heaviest heartbreak you've ever felt in your existence. "please," she said desperately, holding her hands together in front of her in an almost begging manner. "i-" as she began to speak you cut her off.

"you what? you were so fucking jealous of your best friend you decided you'd settle for me?" you clapped back. you knew your words would hurt and you accomplished it. you knew Jackie was always Shaunas biggest insecurity and you promised yourself to never use it against her and yet here you were, doing just that.

Shauna ignored your harsh words "please just let me explain" she repeated, hoping that you would just listen.

"explain what?" you chuckled dryly, "explain the fact that you used me?"

Shauna shook her head quickly, "at first," she said making you shake your head angrily but she didn't stop there. she was panicking to finish what she had to say or you'd leave. she knew you'd leave. "not after i realized how much i actually liked you" she tried but instead of making you feel some type of love, it made you feel angrier.

"when did you know?"

"y/n" she begged but you didn't budge.

"when did you fucking know Shauna." you snapped. you needed to know when her feelings changed. when she thought you were enough for her to love, if she ever even did love you. you needed to know when it wasn't just about her needing a lover and instead needing you.

the brunettes eyes shifted away from you and to the ground for a split second. "on our first date"

her words somehow made you angrier, you couldn't explain it. "don't lie to me!"

"i'm not!"

it was silent. you tried to process her words. she knew on your first date meaning she had only initially wanted to use you. was she even being honest? or was she just saying that to try and soothe things over? did she love you or did she still want someone to warm her bed? and after the anger came sadness. she used you. the girl you were oh so in love with, used you. it was after that in which your tears couldn't be stopped. not even if you tried. when Shauna realized your teary eyes, her heart dropped. she did this.

you shook your head, "i don't believe you," you said, a tear rolling down your cheek making you wipe it away furiously.

it made Shauna speak faster than her brain could process. "that day was everything to me. you made me feel a way i never had before. every time you looked at me i could feel it in my stomach, every time you would tell me about a 'friend' i just wanted that to be me. i wanted it to be me in your life. that's why i kissed you." she explained, hoping you would believe her. wishing you could understand how much losing you was scaring her.

that wasn't enough. it could never be enough. her words couldn't fix the betrayal you felt. her words wouldn't take away the fact that she only went out with you because she was alone and you were you as she put it. "fuck you" you spat, angrily wiping away all of your tears.

Shauna shook her head "please" she begged once more. she took a step forward, not caring that you were stepping away. she didn't stop until you were pressed against her desk but she didn't reach out to touch you, not able to go that far.

"no Shauna." you said pushing at her chest "fuck you! it was always real to me! i didn't have to hear you talk about some friend to know i liked you. you know how much last night meant to me, how much i wanted it to be with someone that loved me as much i loved them." you cried, your voice breaking at the end. her own eyes began to water at the sight.

"but i do! i love you!" she exclaimed, desperation dripping in her voice.

it could've been enough. it should have. but it wasn't. it just wasn't. "no you don't! i didn't have to force myself to like you! i just did! i fucking love you and that's me! not some fucking way to make myself feel better for always being in my friends shadow." you shouted, the words hurt her. you knew that. you intended that. you wanted her to hurt just as much as she had hurt you.

"you don't mean that." she shook her head, her face contorted in pain.

"i fucking do. we're over. leave me alone and don't you dare try to contact me again." you grit out and pushed the brunette completely off of your body. Shauna caught herself on the bed and watched as your stormed out of her room with tears streaming down your face and a broken heart.

cries could be heard throughout the house. your sobs echoed and they left everyone in the room with a heavy heart. your parents weren't home yet, you were thankful for that. you weren't sure what you would do if they were. they loved Shauna and you didn't want to tell them that you were wrong about her, she wasn't the sweetest girl in the world. she didn't deserve your love and you in fact couldn't be with her forever. what a funny thing. how funny of you to ever have thought that you could be with her forever.

"y/n/n" Lottie mumbled softly, her hand caressing your back in soothing circles. you couldn't feel it though, you couldn't feel anything but the pain in your chest.

"it's hurts so much" you cried into Lotties chest. your hand was clutching your shirt and your face was blotched and puffy by now. Taissa, on the other hand, was pissed. as soon as she heard Lottie tell her what happened, she threatened to go beat Shauna up but Lottie knew that was the last thing you wanted. Van was there too, on your  right with her hand on your shoulder to show you that she was there.

"i know." Lottie whispered softly. she didn't know. she didn't know what it was like to love someone that much. you were so in love that truthfully, no one believed that type of love even existed.

it did. to you.

Van looked at her girlfriend with a glare making the brunettes eyebrows furrow. the ginger girl rolled her eyes before motioning to you with her head. it was then that she understood what she meant. the brunette sighed softly and finally turned toward you. she took a step forward and bent down on one knee, her hands reaching for yours to get your attention. your red eyes turned toward her in slight confusion.

"she's not worth it, y/n" she said softly, expecting her words to bring you comfort but instead they made you cry harder and Lottie reached over to hit her arm with 'what the fuck' look. Taissa shrugged her shoulder holding her hands in confusion making Lottie shake her head. they seemed to have a silent conversation that was too loud and it was as if you could hear them.

"i love her" you cried, "she's my everything. she's literally the air i need to live and i feel like i'm dying," you continued. Taissa looked stunned by your words. her words weren't enough. nothing she could say would change your broken heart.

she nodded her head, "okay" she said lowly and stood up. you looked a little confused until you felt her pull you into her body into a tight hug. "im here. we're all here." she reassured.

but she wasn't here, and that's all you really wanted.

the change was hard. going from being with someone for six months straight and seeing them almost every day in those six months to avoiding her as much as you could was a lot. all you did was avoid her. you had classes together and in those classes you switched seats with whoever you were friends with in that class. you went from being lectured by your teacher in those classes for talking and laughing to being completely silent and paying attention to the class. your group of friends, or at least your old friends began to hang out with you again. even Mason began to talk to you again, thinking that in some magical way you were sad enough to rely on him. that would never happen.

you walked the halls with most of the cheer girls and some of the jocks, you went back to sitting with those friends at lunch too. you didn't have Shaunas hand to hold and she didn't hold your backpack and books as she walked you to your next class. everyday at lunch you watched the table you would sit at with Shauna. most of the time you would sit with Lottie, Taissa and Van but sometimes you would sit alone. those times, you spent it giggling and gushing with the girl, everyone else just disappeared.

Shauna didn't like your old friends and after sitting at the table just once she told you that she felt uncomfortable which started the day in which you avoided them as much as you could. you did everything for her. what a joke.

soccer was over so you didn't have to deal with seeing her everyday in the locker room or at practice. she had tried talking to you a couple of times but each and every time you would have a friend, whether they were the 'popular' ones who talked to you so you could ignore her or the three musketeers who would glare at her. there was an instance in which Taissa got a little too aggressive which just angered you. it was between you and Shauna and you didn't need anyone fighting your fights.

spending weekends with your girlfriend went to partying with your friends and crying in your room. your parents had noticed, it was impossible for them not to have noticed. the breakup hit you hard in more than one way and they were the first to notice. you barely ate, you were either never home and if you were, you'd spend it listening to music and crying your eyes out.

and just like that, a month had passed and it was prom. what was supposed to be a magical day with your girlfriend turned into going alone with people who didn't even know you. not really.

for what it was worth, Shauna didn't give up with a lack of trying. she'd buy you flowers and leave them on your locker or doorstep. she'd write you letters or notes but you never had it in you to read them. you just couldn't. nothing she could say could take away the embarrassment and humiliation you felt every time you thought about it.

the dress you had chosen for the night was black and long. it was tight against your body and it had a slit running up your left leg. your hair was curled and your makeup was light. you had arrived in a limo with your friends. you wanted to ride with Lottie but they had been so annoying that you couldn't say no. it's not like Lottie minded, Van and Taissa were going with her anyway.

unfortunately, you didn't take into account that Mason would be going with you and god did he not take no for an answer. he wasn't too touchy, he'd just put his arm around you or call you beautiful far too many times. not to mention the fact that all he did was talk about how you were single now and so was he. why couldn't he take the hint? you weren't interested in him or anyone else for that matter. you loved Shauna and you weren't sure if that would ever change.

at some point you detached from the group and went to your other friends, who were all more than happy to see you. originally, you didn't want to go, not without the girl that you loved but they had been the ones to convince you to go. there was no point in mourning alone when you could be doing it with your friends, maybe even getting drunk. that sounded amazing. getting drunk and forgetting about everything you had gone through.

until your eyes landed on her. until you saw the girl of your dream standing across the room from you in her beautiful dress. it was dark green and long and it outlined all of her curves. she looked perfect. in they eyes of a goddess, she was perfect. every inch, every little part about her would put angels to shame. and when you saw her, it was as if the air had been knocked out of your body. it was as if you had been smacked in the back and you had to recover from such a harsh blow. the brunette was beside Jackie and Jeff who were too engrossed with each other to even look at her. until her eyes finally found yours.

it was the first time she had seen you that night and it showed. in the way her face turned red and the way her eyes widened and they raked down your body over and over again. you were beautiful in her eyes and the sad part was, you believed that. even though you wished you didn't, you knew she loved you in the end. it was impossible to fake something to that extent. but it didn't change the fact that she only saw you as a tool in her plot at the beginning, it didn't change the fact that you weren't sure you could ever trust her again.

as much as you felt love, you felt heartbreak and watching the way she looked at you with nothing but love, just broke you even more. instantly your eyes looked away from the brunette and you tried to focus on whatever it was Taissa and Lottie were talking about.

but even then you could feel the way your heart was constructing against your chest, the way your breathing was growing labored and the way all of your muscles tensed. it was too much. you couldn't be there, it didn't matter what your friends had said over and over again, you couldn't be in the same room as her and not feel how much love you have for her.

"im gonna get some air" you rushed out as quickly as you possible could before turning your body and leaving before anyone could stop you. Taissa and Lottie were about to chase you but they were stopped by Van who saw the way Shauna had started to rush out the door the second you looked away.

"Van-" Taissa snapped, about go off on her girlfriend for stopping her but the ginger girl shook her head.

"let them. they have to talk about it" she said.

Lottie sighed heavily, "she's right."

by the time you made it passed the doors, Shauna was hot on your heel. "y/n!" she said loudly, trying to get your attention.

all you could do was shake your head. "no." you said, tears already building and making your eyesight blurry. you couldn't do this.

"please." the brunette begged, you could hear the desperation in her voice but you couldn't. you just couldn't. your body turned and you were met with an equally upset Shauna.

"i can't." you shook your head. "i can't, Shauna" you replied with a trembling jaw. she looked like she wanted to take a step forward but she stopped herself from doing so, afraid you'd run away.

"im sorry. please know i'm sorry." she begged.

her words didn't help, in fact they only made your pain worsen. "how am i supposed to forgive you? how am i supposed to ever trust you again?" you cried, throwing your hands up in frustration.

Shauna shook her head. "i'll do anything. you know i will. just tell me what i can do to make this better." she cried. could she make this better? could anything in the world fix the humiliation you felt when you read that book?

you weren't sure anymore but you didn't have to think about it because you were being saved by an unlikely hero.

the black beat up car rolled up beside you and the passenger door window opened to reveal a blonde with smudged liner and an unlit cigarette in her hand. "everything good?" she asked, her eyes darting between each girl.

"can you take me home?" you rushed out before Shauna could answer for you. the blonde looked a bit surprised at first, you two weren't exactly friends.

"uh.." she trailed off about to say no but when she saw how desperate you were, she sighed. "get in." she said motioning to the back door. you didn't have to be told twice.

as soon as you stepped inside your bedroom door, you took off your dress and threw your body onto the bed. you were drained, emotionally, mentally and physically. you knew going was a bad idea but you let yourself be swayed by the three people who convinced you to go to school that day. maybe if you would have said no, Shauna wouldn't have the opportunity to ask you out. maybe she would've backed down. maybe your heart wouldn't be torn in two.

of course, your conversation in the parking lot wasn't enough for the brunette. she couldn't let you go. not then and not ever. she loved you too much and she knew you loved her too. she'd never experienced such a feeling and she was sure she'd never be able to again.

so she did exactly what you told her during your first date. did the only thing that could maybe make you realize she did love you. that she made a mistake and that everyday from the day she wrote that stupid entry, she wished she could take it back.

the song was low at first, just a soft humming that could be confused with a car driving past with loud music. until the song grew louder to the point in which it caught your attention. it was close to your house. your brows furrowed and you slowly lifted your face that was buried deep into the pillow. your makeup was smudged and you could feel the stickiness of your mascara along with tears on your face.

considering how you looked, you wanted to ignore it but it was getting hard to the longer they stayed. it was someone who obviously wanted someone’s attention, you just weren’t who yet. with an eye roll, you got up from your bed and went to your mirror first so you could wipe away the smudged mascara and wipe away the still wet tears that were falling. when you thought you looked okay or at least not completely and utterly broken, you went to your window and pulled back the curtains.

the sight before you was something you most definitely weren’t expecting. anything but that. maybe some annoying kids playing music too loud or a neighbor with their radio on but never would you have imagined to see your ex girlfriend standing in your front lawn with a boombox above her head. anything but that.

suddenly nothing mattered and suddenly she hadn’t broken your heart. she wasn’t Shauna Shipman, the ex that had completely destroyed you and any chance at wanting to fall in love. she wasn’t the one who wrote those things in her diary but instead the one who kissed you in her car. the one who would hold your hand in class when you’d get anxious, the one who’d stay sober when you’d drink, who would let you fall asleep first so you didn’t feel alone, the one who would let you put your legs under hers even though she hated it. the Shauna that you fell so utterly in love with.

without a chance to second guess yourself, you turned away from the window and ran out of your room. your hurried footsteps echoed throughout the house making your dad ask what the commotion was about. you didn’t even think to answer as you reached the front door and whirled it open making a gush of wind enter the house. it didn’t matter that you were shoeless and that you were letting her in again. it didn’t matter because she was Shauna, your Shauna.

the brunettes eyes widened when she saw you rush out of the house and she quickly dropped the boombox as you ran toward her. it was like deja vu as she caught you in her arms. you did the thing you had been wanting to do since you broke up, the thing you dreamed of. your lips crashed down on hers in a passionate, love filled kiss.

it dripped with emotion, with sadness, ache, longing but overall love and adoration. each of you loved each other so passionately that you couldn’t stay away. not for a moment longer. it was easy to say you’d never let her in again but seeing her there, doing the thing you told her you’d always wanted, you couldn’t resist. this was Shauna, even if she was also the one who wrote those things in her journal, it didn’t change the fact that you fell in love. it just didn’t.

tears began to fall once more causing you to pull away. Shauna had a matching expression and you could feel those tears on your lips. “im sorry.” she said quickly. “im so sorry, i never meant to hurt you and i promise i’ll never do it again. i promise-”

you shook your head and leaned down to kiss her gently. when you pulled away, the brunette finally set you down on the ground and you took advantage of it to wipe away her tears with your thumb. both of your hands were holding her face gently. “i know. i know you are and i know it won’t be easy to get over it but i want to try. i want to try for us.” because losing her hurt way more than loving her and you couldn’t put yourself through that any longer.

you couldn’t explain it and maybe a lot of people wouldn’t understand it, including your friends but it didn’t matter. Shauna Shipman was a good person, a good girlfriend and someone worthy of love and forgiveness. you just couldn’t bring yourself to stay away from her any longer. not now and scarily enough, maybe not ever.

“i promise you everything i’ve said is real. i promise my love for you is real. it was always real.” Shauna said, her eyes still watering. neither of you knew if it was from sadness or love or maybe both. maybe it was sadness you felt of being away from the person you loved so much.

your lips quirked into a gentle smile at her words, “i love you.” you said softly. Shaunas lips matched yours and you felt the way she pulled you into her by your waist, this time not waiting for you to initiate it.

“i love you so much more.” she responded before you felt a pair of soft lips come crashing down on your own.

you’d be okay.

#shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman imagines #lesbian #gxg #yellowjackets #taissa turner #van palmer #lottie matthews #jackie taylor

[mingtinys]

Soggy Cereal

pairing : choi san x gn!reader

college roommates!au , friends to lovers , fluff , valentines day fic !!

warnings : language

word count : 2.8 k

requested ? no

a/n : this was horribly rushed , barely proof read , and i kind of hate the ending , but i do want to post something for valentines !

You really should've just turned off your phone for the day. Maybe then you wouldn't be feeling so bitter. But after being bombarded by post after post of your friends being surprised by their significant others with vibrant bouquets, fancy brunches, expensive jewelry, and fluffy stuffed animals, it's a little hard to not feel so sour. Perhaps it's a bit unfair to hate an entire day, but February fourteenth just sucks, and you're ready for it to be tomorrow. 

"What's wrong with you?" San asks, genuine concern gracing his features at the way you've been scowling at your phone for the past hour. You'd nearly forgotten he was even in the room with you. Too caught up wallowing in your own misery to appreciate the bowl of cereal he'd so kindly made you. He digs into his own, spilling milk on the counter in the process.

"Nothing's wrong."

The look on his face tells you that excuse isn't going to do you any justice. He chews as he speaks, pointing his spoon at you from across the kitchen island. "You're a shit liar. You've been glaring at your phone all morning, something’s up."

"It's stupid." Your response is short, clicking off your phone and placing it facedown so you won't be tempted to glance at it any further.

"No, it's not. C'mon, just tell me."

San slips from his spot across the island, bowl in hand as he takes up the stool next to you. "Please," he drawls, putting on the most god-awful puppy eyes you've ever seen him muster up. You've lived with Choi San long enough to know, unfortunately, he's not just going to give up.

". . . I've never had a valentine. And I know it's cheesy but it'd be nice to have someone confess their undying love with some stupid rose bouquet or overzealous box of chocolates. Just once, ya know?" You sink in your seat, elbows propped up on the counter to rest your chin in your hands. You refuse to look at San.

"What do you mean?" San's voice is a little too optimistic for your mood. "We get each other gifts every year!" By his terms, he's not wrong. While the cheap boxes of gimmicky drugstore chocolates are a nice gesture, they're far from romantic. Not that you've ever expected such from San, but it's just not the point.

"No, San, like a real valentine."

He blinks at you for a moment, the frown on his lips only stays for a millisecond. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just call me a fake valentine."

"You know what I mean. We only get each other gifts because we're friends and no one else will." You plop down from your stool, sliding your bowl of soggy fruity pebbles over for San to finish. You've always found it weird that he actually prefers his cereal mushy. He'll even wait a good ten minutes after making a bowl before he eats it so it'll absorb as much milk as possible. But as nauseating as you find the mannerism to be, it is quite convenient. It's basically become tradition for him to finish off what you don't eat once the texture becomes too soft.

But it's the first time he's ever declined your leftovers. Instead of immediately polishing off your bowl like usual, he sticks to you like a shadow. San follows you down the narrow hall and to your room, making himself comfortable on your bed while you begin sorting through your closet for your work uniform. "I thought you liked getting each other gifts."

There's a certain dejected undertone to his words that make you pause and rethink how you're wording things. You aren't upset with him. If anything, he makes days like Valentine's significantly more bearable. If it weren't for the small box of chocolates and singular rose waiting outside your door this morning, you'd probably be having a lot bigger crisis over being alone on days like today. But your point still stands, nothing about the gesture is romantically inclined.

Your eyes finally land on your uniform, crumpled up in the laundry basket that sits next to your dresser from the last time you washed clothes yet never put them away. "That didn't come out right," you sigh, watching the way San's frown deepens as you lay the articles on the bed next to him. "I really do appreciate the gesture, San. It's incredibly sweet. I just meant it'd be nice to receive something from someone who likes me more than just platonically."

The last thing you want is for San to feel like you don't appreciate him. In fact, you probably do a little more than a friend or roommate should. "Please tell me you get what I'm saying. It's not you, I promise, I'm just feeling a little . . ." You search for the proper word. "Lonely."

San looks like he's about to say something but pulls his lips into a thin line before any words come out. He thinks, then says "I get it." But the frown is still there. You know he's the one who asked, but there's a bit of guilt that gnaws at your insides for dumping all of this on him so suddenly. So you pad across the room to your desk and pull a small pink gift bag from the bottom drawer in hopes to remedy the sad look on his face. Confusion pulls at his brows when you extend the bag to him. 

"I was gonna wait until after work to give this to you, but seeing as how you already gave me mine . . ." His face lights up at the realization. He's quick to snatch the present from your hands, His excitement tugs at the corners of your lips. "And be gentle with the bag, I wanna reuse it for your birthday in a few months."

You're not sure he even hears you, already tossing the tissue paper to the side and digging inside the bag. You'd love to watch his expression as he opens each component of your gift, but you're a few minutes shy of running late to the only thing that pays your half of the rent. So you begin slipping out of your pajamas and into uniform, not caring that San's just a few feet in front of you. You've learned to be pretty comfortable around him, given his bad habit of never knocking and the broken lock on your door that the landlord never got around to fixing. It was cause for him catching you in quite a few awkward situations for the first few months.

Though eventually, as the two of you grew more comfortable with one another, you were both willing to drop your guard around the other. Even to the point of just leaving your door open for him to come and go as he pleases. No one but San can say they've truly seen you at your worst and vice versa. Besides, San doesn't pay you much mind anyways, too engrossed in his gift to notice you changing.

You've just finished pulling your shirt on when you catch him eyeing you with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

He clears his throat theatrically, holding up the glittery pink card you bought for no more than two dollars. "'I think you're out of this world,'" He reads, turning the card to reveal a picture of a cheesy cartoon alien once he's done. "Really?"

"What? It's cute and it was on sale!" You giggle. The smile that breaks his playfully judgemental expression is enough to light the room. "Just keep going, there's more."

San neatly tucks the card back into its envelope. You take a seat beside him, watching while you tie your sneakers. At the bottom of the bag, underneath his favorite candy and snacks, sits a little box wrapped in shiny red paper. He holds it up, looking at you with an expression that reads what is this?

"Open it," you encourage.

He's gentle as he peels back the tape sealing what's inside, mumbling something about being able to use the wrapping paper for your next birthday gift as well.

While what's hidden inside the paper is no surprise to you, anticipation still grips your insides. The last of the paper falls away, revealing a hinged black box with a silver logo that sparks recognition in San's wide eyes. He looks at you, then the box, and to you once more before settling back on the box.

"This is . . ." He starts.

"I hope it's the right one, I went back to get that bracelet you pointed out a few weeks ago when we passed by the antique shop."

San opens the box and inside sits a silver chain bracelet, adorned with a singular little mountain charm. "I can't believe you remembered that," he whispers, delicately lifting the bracelet to examine it further. He then slips it onto his wrist, turning it this way and that to watch how it catches the light.

It was by no means some huge expensive gift, the owner of the old shop was more than happy for it to finally find a new home. But the way San's eyes lit up when he spotted it through the window was enough for you to know it was priceless. Though you knew he likely would never go back to get it for himself, and Valentine's seemed like a good enough excuse to get it for him.

"Thank you, Y/N. Seriously, I love it so much."

"I'm glad," you give him a smile, though it's nothing compared to his. "Now enough sappy shit, I have work soon." You snatch your keys from your bedside table and gesture for him to get up. He stands, though not without a groan of annoyance, "It's so stupid you have to work on a holiday."

"Like I have anything better to do today."

San follows you back out to the kitchen, spotting the long-forgotten remnants of your cereal still sitting on the counter. He lets out a soft "Oh!" and picks it up, taking a heaping spoonful into his mouth. It makes you cringe, the flakes so swelled up and half dissolved from how long it has been sitting there. It might as well be illegal to consume.

"You're seriously disgusting."

"And you're seriously wasteful. Besides I thought you were late, do you really have time to be heckling me?" He glares.

"I am and I’m blaming you." You state, glancing at the time once more.

You're halfway out the door when San calls out for you again. "Text me when you get off, I'll order takeout and we can watch shitty romcoms until you feel better."

While you're not sure watching movies about people finding their true love will necessarily make you feel better, San always does. So you don't think about it much and give quick confirmation before rushing out the front door and down the steps of your building.

To say work was horrible would be an understatement. As if watching your friends post their Valentine's gifts and significant others online wasn't already bad enough, serving table after table of happy couples was worse. Throughout the night, you were constantly subjected to copious amounts of PDA and extravagant confessions of love. Even witnessing a proposal at the end of your shift. Not to mention tonight's dinner rush was particularly bad at tipping.

But the cherry on top came when a customer, in a horrible attempt to impress his date, decided to nitpick at every tiny aspect of your service. Not refilling their wine fast enough, not checking on them enough, not being cheery enough, anything and everything he could think of.

The relentless critiques while being surrounded by the one thing you wished to avoid today stirred up every unresolved emotion from earlier. Turning your tastebuds sour once more. When your shift was up, you drove home as fast as you possibly could, completely forgetting your promise to let San know when you'd be back. The thought didn't even register until you pulled into your apartment's parking lot. That's right, San wanted to watch movies.

There's a part of you that wants to cancel on him. You're so tired and beaten down from the day that you honestly want nothing more than to tuck yourself away in bed and sleep for days. San would understand. He'd be disappointed, but understanding. Just as he always is. But when you open the door, the apology speech you'd been planning to let him down with dies out on the tip of your tongue at the sight before you.

Your usually messy and rather bland apartment is lined wall to wall with twinkling fairy lights. Their soft yellow glow illuminate the otherwise dim room. The scent of warm chocolate lingers in their air, mixing with the cinnamon-scented candle San always keeps lit. It's all very magical, yet confusing. You rack your brain as to why San chose today of all day to decorate.

Dropping your keys and bag by the door you venture further into the space. Peaking around the living room for San, you find the area to be completely vacant. You check the kitchen next, but there's still no sign of your roommate. However, what you do find is quite the arrangement of items set up on the kitchen island.

A bouquet of six tulips sit nicely in an ornate glass vase, vibrant in their color. Next to them, a tray of messily crafted chocolate-covered strawberries. Judging by the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, they're homemade. One of San's university sweatshirts is folded up neatly on the other side of the tulips. The one you've always told him you keep one eye on at all times because the design is your favorite and they sold out before you could get one. In the middle of it all sits a small, fuzzy teddy bear. It’s leaned up against a new box of fruity pebbles with a folded-up note in its lap. The writing on it is messy, but unmistakably spells out your name. You instinctively reach for it, flipping it open to reveal two scraggly sentences surrounded by pink and purple hearts.

"Not to be "mushy," but I am "cereal-sly" in love with you. Be my Valentine?"

"You're not supposed to be home yet!" San's startled voice breaks you from your thoughts. You nearly drop the note at his outburst. "I– did I miss your text? I thought I'd have more time, shit– um . . ." San looks frantically between the array of gifts and you. Then says, very unsure of himself, "Surprise."

For the first time in your life, you are truly at a loss for words. Because it's pretty obvious why San set all of this up, but your brain seems to lag at the thought of it. You feel like you need him to confirm before you can believe any of it. "Is this for me?"

He nods. "I know it's not exactly perfect, but after what you said this morning about not having a Valentine, I just thought . . . Well, I thought now might be a good time to tell you I sort of, kind of, maybe like you. Like a lot."

He gets antsy in your silence.

"And I know you said you wanted roses but everywhere was sold out. So that nice lady next door– you know Mrs. Kim– lent me some tulips she picked from her friend's garden. Oh, and everywhere was also sold out of boxed chocolate, but Yunho had some chocolate chips he let me borrow and I picked up some strawberries from that market down the street—"

It's pretty obvious San doesn't plan on ending his rambling any time soon. Words continue to waterfall from his lips, but they're all lost on you. Too overwhelmed by the thoughtful gesture and all the work he put into it to register the details of his story. You struggle to find the words to properly convey how much San, and all of this, mean to you. So you discard any semblance of a simple thank you from your tongue and instead take the opportunity to do something you've thought about time and time before.

You waste little time in closing the gap between you and San. Note still clutched in your fingers as you throw your arms around his neck and pull his lips in to meet your own. He reacts impressively fast, holding on to your waist and kissing you back eagerly. The rush of warmth that courses through your veins is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It leaves your mind with no thoughts but those of Choi San.

In your opinion, the moment ends too quickly with San pulling back to look at you. But how can you complain when his eyes hold that much love within them? "You didn't have to do all of this," you whisper after a minute.

San just shrugs, letting his thumb graze over the skin of your cheek. "No, but I wanted to.”

"I love you too, ya know?" You refer to his note. "Even if you like gross soggy cereal."

#ateez #san #choi san #ateez san #ateez choi san #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez valentine #san fluff #choi san fluff #san imagine #choi san imagine #san x you #choi san x you #ateez x you #ateez fanfic #choi san fanfic #san fanfic #san imagines #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #choi san imagines #ateez fic #san fic #choi san fic

[vampyrixdarling]

hi hi! I'd like to request some general relationship headcanons with Scourge!! This vile man does not have enough fics about him, and that is a CRIME.

— 「𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ Scourge the Hedgehog x reader

: ̗̀➛ synopsis; General relationship headcanons with Scourge.

: ̗̀➛ Type; Romantic headcanons

: ̗̀➛ warning(s); intended gender neutral reader (although there are feminine pet names), anger issues, arguments, mentions of addiction, mentions of Scourge’s terrible home life, despite the heavy topics mentioned there is still fluff.

Likes/Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

☆ There are so many ways this can go. It’s either you went into this relationship with the “I can fix him mindset” and he ended up making you worse, or you make each other worse. There is no in between.

☆ Either way, he treats you good. If you ever want anything, he will get it for you no questions asked. Mainly through thievery or the odd robbing. He loves to spoil you whenever possible, and also loves to show you off. He’s so proud he managed to pull someone like you, and he’ll be sure to show off and boast.

☆ I think he likes PDA for the sole purpose of letting everyone know you’re his. He constantly has his arms around you, holding you close into a bit of a side hug. That, or he has a hand in the back pocket of your jeans. Of course, he’ll stop immediately if you express you’re uncomfortable. He’s not the kind of guy to overstep your boundaries at all.

☆ He doesn’t cook. Well, it’s more like he can’t cook. He does have an interest in cooking, but something almost always goes wrong. He mostly orders takeout, or relies on you to cook an actual meal for him. He’s eternally grateful to you if you do. He’ll even offer to help you in the kitchen, whether it’s helping you cook or doing the dishes (he hates doing the dishes, but he’ll do it for you).

☆ As for pet names, I don’t really think he’d call you any sweet ones, I can’t see him doing that. He might call you darling occasionally. The ones he probably calls you the most would be toots or babe. And occasionally beautiful or handsome.

☆ Scourge is a relentless flirt. That’s obvious. Whenever you two cross paths, it’s like he knows just what to say to get your heart pounding and that blood rushing to your face. That’s how he managed to win you over, after all. Shitty pickup lines and jokes were his go-to, as well as trying his best to impress you whenever he could.

→ Bonus points if he failed horribly at whatever he was doing to impress you, and you can’t help but laugh. He’d be annoyed at first, along with his huge ego being damaged and bruised, but once he hears your laughter, it’s like butterflies emerge from his stomach, and he can basically feel his heart skip a beat. So once he’s a humiliated and blushing mess, he’ll quickly get up and proudly barked that that was on purpose, and he’s not as pathetic as he looked. Of course you knew he was lying, but you didn’t mind. You found it cute, in all honesty.

☆ He constantly smells of cigarettes and cheap cologne. It’s gotten to the point where once you smell it, you know for sure Scourge is nearby. It’s a scent that’s managed to find itself seeped into your bed from how many times he’s crashed at your place. But as much as you find the smell annoying, you can’t help but find at least a little bit of comfort in it.

☆ On the topic of sleeping over, he loves sleeping with you. He definitely snores loudly. He’s normally the big spoon, and that’s almost always unfortunately nonnegotiable. He loves holding you close with his head buried into the crook of your neck. He finds you so warm, and he’s quick to fall asleep.

☆ He’s the type to get jealous easily, and he’s very obvious about it. He’d wrap his arm around you, pulling you close, and smugly tell the person to back off of you and that you’re his. If the person is being creepy or threatening, Scourge isn’t afraid to put them in their place and beat the hell out of them. But he’d rather not let you watch that. It could wait, for now he’s just focused on you.

☆ I think it would take a lot for Scourge to open up to you. He’d have to be really comfortable with you, and 100% sure that you’re the right person to tell about this and that you won’t judge him. I’d like to think he got his anger issues from his father and his struggles with addiction from his mother. That man did not have a good childhood and I will die on this hill.

☆ He’s the jokester of the relationship. He’s almost always cracking jokes, whether they’d be flirtatious or not. He prefers to be on the lighter side of things rather than the serious side. He just wants to joke around and have fun with you, is that such a crime? He’d love you forever if you entertained his jokes /j

☆ Scourge is afraid of commitment. He isn’t into the idea of getting married nor having kids. That’s the awkward truth. He’d most likely not put as much effort into the relationship as you’d like, although that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’ll put as much effort into the relationship as he can, but it won’t always be enough.

→ He doesn’t want kids because he’s afraid that he won’t be a good father figure, with his anger issues and problems with addiction being some of the main reasons behind that. He doesn’t want his kids to be raised by a someone like him. He wants the kid to have a healthy, normal life— one that he fears he can’t supply.

☆ Despite not wanting any, he’s actually great with kids. He doesn’t know how or why, but it just comes naturally to him. He’d try to be a positive role model to them (even though he’s the complete opposite of a positive role model). He won’t drink or smoke around them, and actively tries to engage with them and offer advice if they seek it— as well as providing any support he can.

☆ I don’t think he’d be the communicator in the relationship. It’s either he’s too prideful to admit he messed up, or he’s scared of what might come from the conversation. But he’s willing to make things right with you, he loves you too much to lose you.

☆ He has bad habits of acting out of anger, or throwing things out of a fit of rage. He denies he has anger issues, but no matter what happens, he refuses to hurt you. The most he’ll do is scream— whether directed at you or not— or throw something at a wall.

→ If an argument were to occur, Scourge isn’t the one to apologize first. Arguments with him aren’t often unless you caught him on a really bad day and accidentally said something to set him off. His father is the most sensitive topic you can bring up, and will have him freaking out almost immediately. He just hopes that if he opens up about his father to you, you won’t use that as leverage. He trusts you, and he doesn’t want that trust to be misplaced.

→ At first he’s angry, screaming at you and demanding to know why you said or did what you did. He doesn’t mean anything he says to you, but he can’t control it. He’ll only stop if you’re crying, to which he’ll quickly be quiet once he realizes how much he scared you. He’ll give you your space, not talking to you for the rest of the day and spending most of the time in your guys’ room.

→ If the argument is his fault, he’ll still refuse to apologize, nor admit he’s in the wrong. The outcome would be a little different though. He’d be slightly colder to you once you start trying to point out where he was in the wrong and was in fact being a total asshole. Instead of backing off like he did in the previous scenario, he’d scoff at you and leave. This would cause a strain in your relationship, but as long as you two can properly communicate and talk about this, I think it’s an issue that could be solved. This relationship isn’t an easy one, but you both love each other dearly.

#scourge the hedgehog x reader #scourge x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader

[illicitlimerence-writes]

santa's house | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 2.1k words (oops) request: nope prompt: character a works as a santa’s helper. character b has a small sibling/child. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: kids, uncle!charles, language maybe, idk what else. **text in italic is supposed to be in french lol** a/n: day 4! a little bit longer than yesterday but oh well, for some reason this one didn’t feel as long when i was writing it. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

the job wasn’t the most luxurious ever, but it paid good, especially with the holiday craze. 

working as one of santa’s elves at the local mall wasn’t exactly on her bucket list, but she needed the money. living in monaco as a student wasn’t easy nor cheap, and she couldn’t let any opportunity to make some extra cash escape. 

thankfully, the lines were never too long, the people were understanding, and the children were the sweetest. since starting that job she’d learned a lot about patience, about being around a lot of kids at the same time, but most importantly, about keeping the children’s innocence and spark alive. 

in the two weeks of working there she’d had to deal with every kind of kid, the excited ones, the ones that were slightly afraid of the idea of santa, little babies that was their first time meeting santa, and she remembered every single kid that she met.

she was sitting on santa’s chair, still wearing the green dress and striped tights, a red santa hat on her head. the actor playing santa had already called off for the night, but she had to wait until her flatmate finished her shift at one of the shops at the same mall so they could go home together. she was about to turn off the lights from santa’s house when she heard the now-familiar pitter patter of tiny feet on the polished floors.

“cha, hurry!” a little girl’s voice echoed through the walls and tall ceiling, she turned her head seeing a girl of about two or three years old running her way. her heart melted, this girl was probably the prettiest girl she’d ever seen. bright hazel eyes and hair, a gorgeous red dress with white tights on. behind her, a twenty-something brown-haired guy was rushing to her, trying to keep up with her tiny but fast legs.

“wait, darling. slow down,” he said, right as the girl tried to climb the small white picket fence surrounding what was supposed to be santa’s house. out of instinct, she hurried to help the girl.

“careful, honey, you could get hurt,” she said softly, opening the entrance to the house and helping the girl down.

“santa,” she frowned, looking around, her heart sunk in her stomach.

“santa’s gone for the night, darling,” she explained as the guy that came with the little girl walked to her, lifting her in his arms.

“sorry,” he said, hugging the girl tight, “don’t run off like dad, your parents won’t forgive me if something happens to you, and neither would i,” he told the girl, who leaned her head against his shoulder.

“santa,” the girl told him, lower lip sticking out in an adorable pout.

“santa’s house is open until six, you just missed him, i’m sorry,” she explained, a small smile on her face.

“hear that, lovie? we can come back tomorrow,” he said, but the girl shook her head.

“i want to see santa today,” she insisted. 

“what’s your name, darling?” she asked the girl, she felt her heart squeezing at the sight of the girl being sad. 

“cami,” she answered.

“that’s such a pretty name, cami. it’s so nice to meet you. listen, how about this, i can show you inside santa’s house, would you like that?” she offered, smiling sweetly at the girl. who nodded.

“he there?” cami asked, pointing to the house.

“no, honey, he had to go to the toy factory for the night, but he’ll be back tomorrow,” she explained, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to make up a story on the spot. 

“cha, down,” cami said, and the guy holding her put her down, but held her hand. they followed her to the entrance of the house, it was simple, but still in theme. there were two cushioned chairs and a bench, a cabinet where she and the santa actor kept snacks, drinks and some make-up. thankfully, there were no costumes there. 

“welcome to santa’s house in monaco,” she smiled as the girl looked around, the soft glow of the lights outside illuminating the inside. 

“it’s small,” cami said, looking around and sitting on one of the chairs, the guy she called cha helped her up.

“yeah, he’s so busy, he doesn’t to spend too much time here, and every night he goes to sleep in the north pole, that’s why it’s small,” she explained, watching ‘cha’ with a smile on his face as he saw cami nod slowly, taking the new information in. 

“he comes back?” she asked, too enthralled by everything around her.

“yeah, he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“cha, we come tomorrow?” she turned to cha, who nodded in return, pinching the little girl’s cheek lightly. “you’re here tomorrow?” she asked her.

“i will be right here, cami.” she nodded, smiling. she saw movement outside the house, seeing her flatmate waiting for her. “but right now it’s getting late, and i think we all should go home, but i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she said, standing up from her spot and walking to the snack cabinet. she opened it and grabbed a cookie that she gave every kid that went to meet santa. she thought twice and grabbed another one, instead. “here you go, this is for you,” she handed her one of the cookies, one in the shape of a snowman. the girl’s eyes shined bright, making her smile. “and this one’s for cha,” she said, giving her one in the shape of a christmas tree. 

“cha, cookies!” cami giggled, staring at the cookies longingly. “thank you,” she said. 

“thank you, uh- my name is charles. that’s cami, camille.”

“nice to meet you, charles. i’m (y/n),” she smiled. 

-

the next day, she lifted her head every time she heard a small child’s voice, hoping to see cami and charles walking her way. she tried to hide her disappointment, putting on her happy face and welcoming the kids. with about thirty minutes left, she’d already given up on seeing them that day, but the sweetest voice calling her name caught her attention.

she turned, seeing camille with charles trailing behind her. this time she wore a green dress. she waved at her, turning to sam, the guy playing santa.

“please be on your best behavior for this girl. she wanted to see santa last night but came too late.” she felt two hands wrap around her legs, she crouched in front of cami, “hi, cami, how are you?” she asked the girl, smiling at her and charles as she looked up at him. he smiled back.

“good. i see santa!” she pointed to the side. 

“want to meet him? i already told him about you, he’s been waiting all day to meet you,” she smiled, getting a funny feeling in her stomach at the girl’s bright expression in her eyes. 

“cha, come!” she grabbed charles’ hand and led him to santa. 

-

she waved her hand goodbye at them, already knowing she was going to miss having cami around. she closed the curtains of the small windows of santa’s house, changing out of her costume inside the house. her flatmate had already gone home for the day, so she had to walk home by herself. she didn’t mind it, she liked having time to see her temporary home. 

as she walked past an antique shop, she noticed a gorgeous snowglobe. the bottom was painted gold, and inside there was a carousel, and she was sure it worked because of the small lever on the side. she sighed, knowing that with the holidays the prize was sure to be way out of her budget.

“hey, hi-” she jumped a little letting out a curse word. charles noticed the switch in language, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to startle you.”

“no, it’s okay, i- i was too caught up in my thoughts,” she said, smiling at him. her head went down, looking for cami. “where’s-”

“with her parents,” he said, pointing to a shop across the street. a cozy coffee shop, cami sat with her parents in front of her. 

“she’s your…”

“niece,” he answered, she nodded. 

“i’m guessing you’re her favorite uncle?” she smiled, watching the way charles looked at her softly.

“i’d say so,” he chuckled, “her parents, my cousins, are really close to my age, so i’d say she’s my favorite, too. i love her to pieces.”

“cute,” she slipped out, feeling a light flush creeping on her cheeks. 

“do you want to join us? i’m sure cami will be delighted to spend more time with you,” he asked, her gaze drifted from cami to him. “or if you’re busy or have plans i-”

“no, it’s… i-” she thought for a second, seeing his small smile and bright eyes, so similar to cami’s. “sure. a little while won’t hurt.” 

her heart beat faster at the sight of his relieved smile, he offered her his arm, she slid her hand around it and walked to the coffee shop. as they entered she could see cami turning her head to see charles. her eyes widened and she clapped her hands as she spotted her. 

she sat next to cami, with charles on her other side as he introduced her to his family. 

conversation started flowing easily, with her helping cami eat her slice of cake as if she’d been doing it her whole life, it came natural to her.

charles smiled, knowing cami didn’t open up easily to people, and it was surprising and so nice to see her like that with her. his cousins made her feel welcome, asked her questions about herself, her job, her uni major. with every word she spoke charles found himself unable to look away. 

he wanted to get to know her more. whoever managed to get cami out of her shell was someone worth knowing. 

after almost two hours of talking and enjoying a nice evening, cami and her parents left, the little one having fallen asleep already. and charles insisted on driving her home, she’d said it was fine, that she was good just walking home, but had finally given up.

the car ride was filled with talk, asking questions that were a bit more personal, but both felt comfortable answering them. as she pointed to her building, charles felt a small ball of dread in his stomach. he didn’t want this to end.

“can i-” he said, sighing as he cut himself off. “i’d love to see you again,” 

“oh,” she said, before a smile slowly crept on her face, “me too.” she admitted, feeling shy under his stare. 

“um, is… that’s great,” he said, watching her nod. she nodded, too, tapping her fingers against her leg.

“here,” she handed him her phone, “put your number in. we can text and plan something,” 

“yeah, i’d… i’d like that,” he said, typing his number and saving the contact as ‘cha’ with a bear emoji. he’d explained the bear necklace that cami had picked out for him as a birthday present, she had contained herself to avoid swooning audibly. he called his number so he could have hers as well. 

“good. well, thank you for tonight. i really had a nice night, your family is so great and cami… she’s quite possibly the greatest toddler i’ve ever met. and trust me, i’ve met a lot,” she laughed.

“she is, the sweetest girl.”

after staring at each other for a few seconds, she jumped when they heard a car passing by, too fast to be within the speed limit. 

“i should… go. i- i’ve got to work tomorrow.”

“yeah, of course. have a nice night, and… i’ll call you.”

“i’m looking forward to it,” she smiled, stepping out of the car. 

he watched her close the door and walk to the front door of her building, and it took him one second to make up his mind. he stepped out and closed the door, calling her name.

“yeah?” she asked, watching him walk her way.

“i… i forgot something,” he said, feeling his hands getting clammy as he kept them behind his back. 

“what is it?”

he leaned forward, brushing his lips against her cheek, placing one soft kiss there. her breathing hitched as she looked at him, a smile on her lips as he leaned back, heat rushing to her face.

as soon as she closed the door to her apartment she received a notification.

from cha🐻: sweet dreams.

she smiled, dropping down on the sofa and screaming into a pillow.

there was no way a man this perfect existed.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #f1 one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #f1 fandom #f1 fiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1blr #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 drivers one shot #f1 drabble #f1 drivers #f1 drivers x reader

[alenseress]

Elias laughs and the sound of it isn't unkind. Jon isn't sure why he expects it to be. It's somewhat pleasant, actually, to see his shoulders shake undone, forehead pressed to the roof of the car.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Elias waves him off and straightens up with a smile that gets his face all crinkled up. It's a lot of fine lines, a lot more under the unforgiving streetlights than what Jon is used to. It makes him seem more articulated, somehow. Less of a, what is it that Sasha keeps calling him, Walt Disney's frozen head?

"Not at all. You are one peculiar man, Jonathan."

Jon, he wants to correct, but doesn't know if it's appropriate — they're not really on the first name basis, are they. Elias is, sure. Was, from the very start, but the "Elias" in question never actually slips past Jon's head. So, instead, he finds the logo on the bumper very noteworthy.

"Cadillac," Elias suggests and now Jon scoffs himself.

"Are you showing off?"

Elias bops his head in a touché kind of way and scratches at his brow with a thumb carefully stuck away from the burning cigarette. "You looked like you were about to ask."

"It's just my face."

"Oh, I know."

Jon buries his freezing fingers into the coat's pockets and joins him, pressing a hip to the cold metal. Elias offers his portsigar in that sickeningly polite manner of his and Jon grabs a smoke for himself without thinking it through, mainly because he feels awkward standing empty handed. Something about them and the deserted Tesco parking lot does feel extremely inappropriate, now that he thinks about it with a cold cleared head.

Elias squints at his scrambling. "Are you uncomfortable?"

As he pockets for his lighter, Jon actually contemplates his answer. Elias doesn't rush, but does, however, mirror his stance so they end up face-to-face.

"No, I suppose," Jon clicks the wheel and takes a drag. "Are you uncomfortable?"

Cranks his head a bit and tries to roll something on his tongue along with the smoke. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Elias?"

He looks at him then, really looks at him, so prolonged and heated Jon feels like he might break sweat. But then the gaze slips somewhere above his shoulder and Elias smiles to himself as if remembering a joke.

"Somewhat, yes."

"Unfortunate."

"Not at all."

When Elias reaches out to him after a moment of silence, Jon isn't really surprised. He's not good at this but god knows he isn't entirely lost in clues, not when it comes to someone as blunt as Elias. It leaves him soured, really, the momentary rush of anxiety and disappointment. He takes a deep breath, preparing to say his best collected good-byes.

Elias runs his fingers gently along his clenched fist, so much so that Jon trails off with a stupidly hanging mouth. The nails, somewhat long and polished, scrape his dry skin up the sleeve and slip to the underside, following the veins with just their pointy tips. Jon makes a noise he's terrified to hear as his hand opens involuntarily. Elias holds it like he has held Jon's hand a million times before, like he watched it weather through the years just alongside his own, like he pressed kisses and whispered prayers into his palms. He holds it like he knows it, turning it over towards the dimm light above them.

Jon stares at his own clipper laying now cradled. Elias points a finger, connects the moles on his wrist and draws a thoughtful line to the cheap plastic, eventually tracing the pixelated design. The eye stares back at them.

"Let me drive you home, Jon."

Jon can't breathe for some reason.

"Wha..."

"You seem tired."

#jonelias #pre-canon #tho I'm not sure how far #tagged intense hand holding?? #the magnus archives #Spotify

[twogyuu]

like we were eighteen || kdy

Pairing: Doyoung x fem!reader (ft. a whole bunch of SM artists)

Synopsis: Upon your best friend’s insistence, you attend prom for a second time. Much to your surprise, you enjoy it more than either of you were expecting because of a certain someone you wished you met sooner. 

Alternatively: A surprisingly unforgettable night that made Kim Doyoung feel like he was eighteen again: Unsure, giddy, and nervous because of a mere crush. Maybe he’ll listen to Yuta for once and slide into your DM’s  

Genre: Fluff, crack, the slightest bit of angst, best friend!Seulgi, (almost) complete loser!Doyoung, law firm intern!Doyoung, former tennis player!reader, references Adele's When We Were Young

Warnings: Implied alcohol use, profanity, unedited(!!!)

WC: ~5.4k (HELP-)

A/N: This is like the SM Halloween Party, but SM is a high school, LSM is the retired principal, and this is a cheap (second) prom-themed reunion.

TBH, I'm kind of nervous about releasing this. It doesn't feel like my best work especially in the sense that this "drabble" was never intended to be this long 💀 My fingers just typed and then we ended up here 😅 Some way, some how, the way I write the designated member ends up some version of a Renjun I have in my head that I end up projecting onto everyone else 😭 That said, I'm working on better portraying each member of NCT (I'm still new to this!) so please bare with me :') I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

You wouldn’t have been here, unless your best friend, Seulgi, hadn’t dragged you out. 

Contrary to the beliefs of most people, high school was not the best four years of your life (thankfully). You didn’t have an amazing, close-knit group of friends that helped solve a murder mystery of a girl you remotely knew. You didn’t have a band that you’d rock with every afternoon. There was no cliche, fake-dating, bad-boy-pursues-”good”-girl (were you even?) escapade with the captain of the basketball team, Jung Jaehyun. You didn’t have some sort of self-actualization where you discovered your purpose in this world and the meaning of life when you graduated. 

You were a “floater” – someone with a friend from this group, a friend from that group. You ate lunch in the library by yourself just trying to catch up on the next history reading or finishing the geometry homework – sometimes, Seulgi would join if she wasn’t busy with the volleyball team. You had a fair amount of crushes, but nothing that moved beyond the stage of “admiring from afar.” Besides, the only boy worthy of your time, Choi Minho, had graduated by the time you were a second year student. 

(He didn’t even know your name.)

High school by quickly, but slowly. The four years passed by in a flash: one minute you were a freshman with oily skin rushing through the halls with a map of the school in your hands and the when you blinked, you were suddenly in the auditorium draped in a black graduation gown with an pink tassle bouncing off your face everytime you got up from your chair. Nonetheless, the days were long. Seven, fifty-minute classes filled up your 7AM to 3PM. You’d remember sitting in Mr. Kwon’s physics class just counting the number of ticks of the minute hand as it neared the 12PM bell for lunch. Your lungs burned for air during the mile run in gym class – four rounds around the track felt like an eternity despite the teacher calling out a time of eight minutes. The nights at home never seemed to end when you had a literature essay due the next day. 

That said, you think you could say most people could relate to that experience. Despite the “real” and “true” experiences of teens, Hollywood wanted to share with the world, high school was bland and unmemorable. Despite the fact, most, if not all, of your graduating class was back in the humid and cramped school gym tonight. 

Perhaps there were the few individuals who did have that close knit of friends who they wanted to reunite with. 

Or perhaps, it was merely for the purpose of satisfying one’s curiosity of what happened to everyone. 

Did Jaehyun end up in the NBA like everyone thought he would?

Did the high school sweethearts, Sooyoung and Hyoseob, get married like everyone voted in the yearbook?

Did Dong Sicheng become a doctor like your teachers predicted?

That’s why Seulgi came. 

The theme of the reunion was to recreate prom: “a starry night.”

Standing at the front entrance taking it all end, despite the ten years that have passed, not much had changed about the place. The floors were still scuffed and scratched, if not more, the wax leaving the tan hardwood exposed to further damage underneath. The net of the basketball hoop that used to have a giant hole in it was finally ripped off. The bleachers that had been pulled out were still painted the dull blue. 

The decorations that tried to hide it all were tacky at best. The lights were turned off, the gym only being lit by the several feet of fairy lights that lined the walls and the lit pathways to the larger “dance floor” that was surrounded by balloons. There was a yellow, cardboard crescent moon that hung from the metal beams in the back. A table of refreshments with a royal blue drape stood off to the side. There was a photo wall just outside the east exit – then again, it was just a white curtain with some fake cherry blossoms from the fabric store and a few cheap oversized sunglasses and crowns. Though you didn’t particularly enjoy it, the makeshift bar that overtook where the concession stand used to be seemed to be the best attraction tonight – rumors had Jungwoo, who now owned some fancy brewery in uptown, had graciously volunteered to provide alcohol. 

It was laughable – honestly. You had hoped how tacky some of these decorations were, the “starry night” theme was an intentional decision. 

A shot at satire. 

“Okay!” you heard Seulgi’s heels click against the floor behind you, coming back from the bathroom. She came up to your side and linked arms. “Sorry for making you wait – there was a line.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, putting on your best fake smile for her. 

Frankly, just standing at the entrance and taking all of this in only reminded you how much you didn’t miss high school.  

Seulgi could tell from the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. She tugged you closer and reassured you, “It’ll be good, I promise.”

You only shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes and started leading you inside. The rhythmic snare of the electronic house music grew louder, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. Eyes passed over the two of you as you entered, a few waves being thrown your way because people knew Seulgi. People were huddled away in groups, bouts of laughter bubbling above the music.  

Seulgi leaned closer to you and whispered. “Cheer up a little? You never know who you’ll meet again.”

. . . .

“The invitation said ‘dress to impress’, which usually means semi-formal or formal,” Taeyong explained. He scanned Doyoung’s outfit: distressed dark-washed jeans paired with a white t-shirt and his favorite worn black leather jacket thrown over it. Taeyong pressed his lips together in an effort to keep himself from laughing out loud at his friend’s outfit. “Unless,” he cleared his throat, “That’s how you dress to impress.”

“For the last time, please! I thought it was a casual get-together!” Doyoung retorted. “I missed the memo about this being a formal event.”

“C’mon, Doyoung,” Yuta snorted. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his slacks, tipping his drink towards the other man, “The theme was a “starry night prom” – what in the world made you think it’d be casual? You’re about to finish law school. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Doyoung let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his dark locks, undoing the hold of some of the gel. A strand fell across his eyes as he hung his head forward. Sometimes, he wondered how and why he became friends with these two in the first place. 

“Whatever,” Doyoung grumbled, “I’m already here – I’m not just going to drive an hour back to the city just to change. We’ll just . . . be normal, try to enjoy ourselves. We’re all adults now anyways, no one gives a damn.”

Yuta raised his hands up by his face in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” Doyoung huffed, pulling at the hem of his jacket. He flexed his back, opting to settle onto the corner of the bottom bleacher. He busied himself with his SmartWatch, crinkling his brows and swiping at the screen, pretending there was some interesting message on there or something. 

(Or something.)

Truth be told, Doyoung didn’t want to come to this stupid reunion in the first place. It’s why he didn’t pay attention to the invitation when he got it in the mail. It’s why he tossed it in the recycling the day after. He didn’t hate high school for he met some of his best friends here. 

Genuinely, he had a good time. 

Doyoung liked to think he was a fairly average student. Someone who didn’t quite stand out amidst the crowd. He played basketball, but never a star player. He did well enough to get on the honor roll in school, but wasn’t one of the valedictorians. He had a group of friends who were fairly well known among his peers, but never one that people paid attention to like Yuta or Jaehyun. 

And he liked it that way. 

As they graduated and entered college, then professional school and/or the workforce, Doyoung realized how much he enjoyed leading a quiet life and keeping to himself. He gets enough drama from hearing about Yuta’s monthly flings or the nepotism at Taeyong’s office. 

Though the past certainly wasn’t remarkable or perfect, he didn’t like to dwell in it, including high school. He was forward minded – working hard on his law degree and dabbled lightheartedly in various hobbies: photography, painting, singing on the rare occasions he could go out. 

Doyoung simply . . . didn’t care enough to want to come to this reunion.

His Achilles heel, however, will always be his two best friends, Taeyong and Yuta, who did want to come to their second starry night prom. 

Yuta had his own intentions of reigniting old flames, though Taeyong merely wanted to drink and to meet up with his old basketball team. The latter was happily engaged after all. 

Doyoung was merely manipulated and dragged along. Though it was nice to see some people again, he had better things to do at home. His mind was just racing with all the tasks and documents he could be reviewing and completing. Alternatively, if he was feeling lazy and just wanted to have fun, there were movies to watch and places to see.

His ideal Friday night was certainly not being trapped in the claustrophobic gym for second prom on-a-budget. 

(He found it strange, however. Most of his classmates were working adults now, right? Shouldn’t they have had more money to afford something more extravagant? And hire a real DJ instead of Johnny?)

Feedback poured through the speakers followed by the sound of two pats. The beat of the previous song started to fade and the said DJ’s voice followed.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Johnny started, “I think it’s time we slow it down,” He flicked a few buttons on his soundboard to switch out the track, letting a softer melody start to grow. The air filled with the sound of piano keys, soft guitar chords plucking in the background. 

“Grab yourself your partner who none of us has ever met and you met them after high school,” a round of chuckles spread throughout the gym, “Or perhaps someone who you never had the guts to tell them you liked them when we were in high school?”

Everybody loves the things you do. From the way you talk, to the way you move.

“We’re throwing it back to our angst days – Adele, ‘When We Were Young.’”

Johnny backed away from the might and twisted a knob slowly to turn up the volume of the somber song. Couples, hand-in-hand, started breaking off from larger groups or descended down the bleacher stairs to join the dance floor. There were a few who Doyoung recognized, mildly surprised that some high school sweethearts do indeed last (Jaehyun and Emmy not being one of them – not to anyone’s surprise). 

“Damn,” Taeyong nodded approvingly. A grin spread across his face. “Johnny coming through with the nostalgia.”

He was quick to excuse himself to find his fiance afterwards, leaving Doyoung alone with Yuta. 

“You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Yuta asked, though his attention wasn’t on his friend. His eyes scanned through the sidelines, looking for a lonely sole to prey on. 

“Nah,” Doyoung sighed, “I don’t think so.”

Yuta’s eyes landed on someone on the other side of the dance floor, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand swung over, holding his drink in front of Doyoung’s face, signaling for his friend to hold it. 

“Well, if you excuse me then, I think I’m gonna shoot my shot,” Yuta tilted his chin up. 

“Who are you talking about?” Doyoung asked, squinting into the crowd. He pulled the plastic cup filled with pink liquid from his friend’s hand. 

“Hina,” Yuta looked down at his friend. 

Doyoung zeroed in on the black-haired beauty in the navy blue slip mini dress. He snickered – some things just don’t change and that included Yuta’s type. 

“You sure she isn’t married yet, man?” Doyoung asked. 

“I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

“You can’t see shit from here.”

Yuta shot him a playful wink, already starting to walk backwards. “Pray for me that she’s not then?”

“No, gross,” Doyoung chortled. “Good luck though!”

As Yuta disappeared into the crowd, Doyoung let his eyes wander to see who was left. By no means he did expect everyone to be dancing, but he always found it interesting who remained during these more soft and romantic moments. 

If he could, he would’ve gone home already, but he was DD for his friends tonight, and people watching wasn’t the worst thing. 

It could be the most fun actually at a party like this. 

His eyes didn’t linger for long, however, as they landed on you, sitting a few feet away with your legs crossed. You were hard to miss – the white dress you wore stood out in the dark. squinting , he could make out a bored expression on your face, something that Doyoung thought he probably looked like too. 

He knew you and you knew him. 

But that was the extent of your relationship. He remembers you from the few classes you shared throughout and he heard of you peripherally through Taeyong who was friends with Seulgi. A friend of a friend of a friend is the closest he was to you. Nonetheless, you weren't hard to miss – Doyoung remembered you always sat in the front, even if there weren't assigned seats. If your face wasn’t familiar, the back of your head certainly was. 

Did he even bother to say hi in that case?

However, it seemed like you had the answer for him already. 

“Doyoung, right?” you called. You were standing a few feet away from him with your hands clasped together in front of you. “Kim Doyoung?”

He peered up at you, blinking owlishly as he paused to process the current situation. 

“R-right. Right!” Doyoung chuckled, trying to save himself. “Kim Doyoung – that’s me.”

You gave him a small wave. “I . . . um, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m–”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he finished for you. “From freshman geography, sophomore history and literature, and senior year chemistry, calculus, and PE.” He peered up at you, the right corner of his lip curling up into a friendly smile. “Of course, I remember you.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, letting your chin dip into your chest. “I just wasn’t sure since we didn’t talk much.”

Doyoung nodded. “That’s understandable.”

Unbeknownst to you, your own face was reflecting a similar bashful smile. 

Doyoung waited patiently, half-expecting you to leave. Again, you didn’t run in the same circles – maybe you were only greeting him out of courtesy. 

Yet, there was something about you tonight that made him wish you’d stay a minute longer. 

Just long enough so he could figure out what this feeling was. 

A beat passed between the two of you, only Adele’s voice filling the distance between the two of you. The song was already drawing to a close, the instrumentals coming down and her voice flipping down into a softer note. 

“How are you?” you finally asked, feigning confidence to hide the shake in your voice. 

You could have just left after saying ‘hello’ – heck, you were planning on it. 

It was just like a movie.

“Good,” Doyoung replied. 

It was just like a song.

Doyoung might not have known it at the time, but you also felt the same: anxious and eager to pull away to clear your nerves, but not quite ready to leave. You wanted to linger a little longer and you hoped he would let you.

When we were young.

“Um . . .” you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose, “This is gonna sound ridiculous, but do you want to . . .” you pointed your thumb back at Jungwoo’s makeshift bar. “Maybe grab a drink?”

“I would really like that.”

Maybe Seulgi was right. 

You never knew who you were going to meet again.

. . . .

30 minutes earlier

“You should go talk to him!” Seulgi had urged you. She jostled your arm urgently. 

“Doyoung?” you frowned. “I don’t even know if he remembers me.”

“Why wouldn’t he? And who wouldn’t?” Seulgi replied. 

You shook your head, pulling your best friend off your arm. “Why do you even want me to?”

She gave you an incredulous look, scoffing a little. “Weren’t you just complaining yesterday about not liking anyone from the city and you were going to live with me forever and die alone?”

“I was in a mood,” you defended. 

“He’s cute and I think you’d look good together,” she smiled innocently. 

“Seulgi,” you deadpanned. 

“Hey,” she pointed at you, “You never know where it would go – plus, he’s nice.”

“That’s so . . . bare minimum.”

“I know him peripherally – the few times I hung out with Taeyong and we had projects together,” Seulgi explained, “He is actually nice-nice and he works hard. Non-problematic and drama-free like you like them.”

“People change,” you shot back. 

“Look,” Seulgi rolled her eyes. She was tired of this game of seesaw with you. “If you don’t try at least a little bit – no one’s going magically fall into your lap. Even if I just know him a little bit, I get good vibes from him. 

“What’s the worst that can happen? If it doesn’t work out tonight, you never have to see him again and I won’t drag you to the next one.”

. . . .

Doyoung didn’t turn out half bad.

Okay . . .

He was great. 

Wonderful – almost.

(You had to cut yourself a little bit of pride.)

After getting over the awkward hump of getting reacquainted with one another, you surprisingly felt comfortable around him. He was easy to talk to – good at holding a conversation. Rather than rambling about himself, he followed up on your comments with questions asking you to elaborate. If you didn’t want to delve too deep, he’d understand and start on another topic. 

You had learned that the both of you had both moved to the city – or it seemed most of your friend group had. He lived on his own on the north end, while you stayed on the westside with Seulgi. Though he refused the idea as a kid, he ended up spending the majority of the last eight years of his life buried in law school like his mother wanted. He was finishing up his last year, interning at an international law firm. He was grateful for Taeyong and Yuta who had stayed by himself throughout it all, bringing the sparks of spontaneity and fun that made for good stories to balance out the rigorous coursework.

You liked him. He was down-to-earth and there was a calming presence about him. Unintentionally, he was funny too, you found it endearing. He was clumsy - tripped over his own feet and leading you in the wrong direction to the science hallways to show you where his old locker was when it was on the other side of the school.

Ironically, he made you feel giddy - it's like the butterflies you got in middle school when your crushed said 'hello' to you for the first time. Usually an unpleasant and nerve-wracking feeling, however, you . . . kind of liked it?

You could decide that much now. 

Doyoung and you stood next to each other on the side, overseeing the blue and white tennis courts. The two of you, not much of the drinker nor dancer, had opted to wander around the school and talk instead, the conversation spanning anywhere from your lives now to memories associated with each stop. It was as if your feet had communicated and led you both out here. As bland as high school was, the courts held a special spot in your memories. 

The early spring night was still chilly. The soft breeze raised goosebumps along your bare shoulder and rustled through your hair. The sky was clear, but a strange shade of deep purple and navy blue. A few stars were speckled across the sky and the real moon shone like a light at the end of a tunnel from afar – it wasn’t anything special per se, but it was pretty, unlike the tacky one inside. 

“Do you still play?” Doyoung asked, turning to you. He caught how your arms were crossed over your body, rubbing away the bumps on your arm. 

You shook your head. “Tennis requires two people and no one else around me really likes to play. I stopped somewhere in college.”

Silence, then a beat.

“I’ll be your partner if you want to play again,” Doyoung said casually. 

That caught you off-guard. 

“Oh,” you said softly, “Um . . . thanks – I’ll think about it.”

“No seriously,” Doyoung insisted. “I like trying out different sports – I might not be as good as you, but someone’s better than no one right?”

Was he . . . flirting with you? If you remembered right, Doyoung didn’t play sports really – that was more Yuta’s thing. It was a strange offer. 

You turned to look at him to see if something suggested otherwise. 

He looked unfazed by his own words – like he didn’t know that what he just said made your heart jump a little. His face was serious, not even the slightest hint of that nervous smile dancing on his lips when you first said ‘hello.’

He probably didn't realize it, so you pretended to brush off the excitement and opted for a more equally neutral reply.

“I’ll consider it,” was all you replied. 

“I mean it.”

Yeah . . . he didn't. The insistence wasn't playful, but rather earnest - it wasn't creepy whatsoever though. It was . . . endearing. You held back your laughter and cleared your throat.

“I don’t doubt it.”

As you turned away, another breeze blew by, causing you to shiver. 

Doyoung made a brisk ‘tsk’ and began shrugging off his jacket. Before you could protest, the garment was already hanging around your shoulders. The ghost of his body heat wrapped around your body, the goosebumps disappearing and warming you immediately. 

“Don’t try giving it back,” Doyoung said before you could protest. 

“Aren’t you cold though?” you asked, clutching onto the collar. 

Doyoung hummed softly and shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not too bad.”

However, the way he was quick to wrap his hand around his waist at another whip of a wind suggested something different. 

You chortled, slipping the jacket off your body to give it back to him. 

“Nuh-uh,” Doyoung shoved it back into your chest. “Keep it – I’m fine.”

“But –”

“It’ll give me a reason to come back and talk to you at the end of the night,” he huffed. He turned around so you couldn’t see how his cheeks were burning bright pink.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself cringe at what he said. He’s not sure if he wanted to see your reaction right now either. Doyoung still struggled to read you after spending the past few hours with you.

“Let’s go back inside," he pressed on, "Um, I think I hear Taeyong calling for me.”

. . . .

As reluctant as the both of you were to come to this reunion, you both were as reluctant to leave. Your friends had dragged you here and were now struggling to drag you back home. Seulgi, Taeyong and his fiance, and Yuta leaned against the latter’s car, arms crossed over their chest, a bored expression settling onto their face as they watched you and Doyoung from afar. 

“How much long do you think they’ll take?” Taeyong asked. 

“Five minutes?” Seulgi offered, though she wasn’t so sure. 

“Yah!” Yuta shouted from across the parking lot. 

You and Doyoung looked over. 

Yuta waved his arms wildly. “Just hurry up and kiss!” he tapped aggressively at his watch. “We don’t have all night!”

Doyoung sucked in a sharp breath, raising an arm in a punching motion. 

“You know, I kind of regret encouraging her to talk to him,” Seulgi commented.

Taeyong and Yuta looked over at the girl. She could feel their critical, but shocked eyes on her.

“What?” she asked. 

“Doyoung didn’t approach her first?” Yuta asked.

Seulgi shook her head. “No.”

“Wow,” Taeyong snorted, “And here I was, thinking he had game.”

. . . . 

“Sorry,” Doyoung said, turning his attention back to you. “Yuta’s not very patient.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, teetering on the heel of your feet. You clapped your hands together and looked up at him. “Um, I guess . . . this is it, then?”

He nodded slowly, though he could already feel the disappointment growing in his chest. “I guess.”

Did you not want to see him again after this? 

Was this really going to be it for you and him? 

Did he do something wrong to push you away?

“I . . . had a surprisingly good time,” you continued slowly. You peered at him through your lashes with wide eyes. “Thanks to you.”

A hand flew to the back of his neck, while he let out a nervous chuckle. Doyoung waved you off. “Please – it was nothing, just . . . trying to pass time and make the most of it,” he blinked owlishly a few times before realizing how wrong that sounded coming out of his mouth. “I mean, no, like, I had a good time too. I-I just . . . wasn’t trying to do anything special or hit on you, not like I was just using you or you were boring – nothing like that!”

“I know,” you chuckled. “I’ll . . . see you around?”

“Uh . . . yeah?” Doyoung offered, confused. 

How? The two of you had lived in the same city for the past three years and hadn’t bumped into each other once. 

You smiled softly and offered him a hand. Doyoung’s eyes flickered from it to your face and back again. 

“It was nice seeing you again, Doyoung – and,” you tilted your head coyly to the side,”Actually talk to you. You’re not too bad.”

“Likewise,” he replied, grabbing onto your hand. He gave you a firm squeeze, but rather than letting go right away, he just . . . held on. 

“Best of luck in your last year of school.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, offering you an awkward smile. 

“Um,” you chuckled, tugging away your hand to no avail. “If you could . . . let go.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Doyoung shook his head and pulled away. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Bye, Doyoung.”

And then you were gone. 

Your heels clicked against the dark asphalt as you descended off the curb into the parking lot, making your way to a red Toyota Corolla that he presumed was either yours or Seulgi. He watched you eagerly, a part of him wishing you’d turn around and wave, spare him one last glance – even the slightest turn of your head. 

Just anything that would indicate that maybe he was lingering on your mind like you were on his. 

Much to his dismay, you only waved Seulgi over. 

Just as you opened the door to the passenger side and were about to climb in, Doyoung took off in a run, bolting towards you. 

“W-wait!” he cried, garnering the attention of not only his friends and you, but all the other guests in the parking lot too. 

Doyoung didn’t like attention, but right now, he didn’t care. He just needed to talk to you

You paused, one foot in the car, one still out on the pavement. 

He came to a halt a few feet away, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. You waited patiently, giving him a moment to even his breathing. Out of the corner of your eye, you could make out Seulgi eavesdropping on the confrontation. His friends were snickering from the distance – Yuta especially with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I, um,” Doyoung stood up tall. He lifted his gaze to look at you. “D-do you think, maybe, I could . . . we could see each other again?” 

You didn’t reply right away. You were stoic and each second passed felt like a beat closer to doomsday. He knew the worst that could happen was that you said ‘no’ and he would never have to see you again. Nonetheless, he didn’t wish for such a thing and the disappointment would eat at him for the next few days. 

The question of “what if” was a powerful one. 

“I’m still looking for a partner for tennis, so I don’t see why not,” you finally replied. A soft, playful smile danced on your lips.

It was . . . very pretty. He wondered why he didn’t notice earlier. 

Immediately, his demeanor brightened. A grin stretched across his face at your reply. His hands fumbled around as he tried to find his phone in one of his many pockets, slipping in and out of the front and back. He shoved them in slits of his leather jacket too and came up with nothing. 

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 

Doyoung has never lost his phone before – why now?

“I, um,” he showed you his empty hands. “I don’t know where my phone went, but if I could, I would love to get your number somehow?”

You dipped your chin to your chest, a girlish chuckle falling from your lips at his clumsy demeanor. 

“I don’t have a pen to write it on your palm,” you told him. 

“Oh,” he said softly. Asking himself more than you, he muttered, “What will we do?”

“But um . . . you have Instagram, right?” you asked, a new idea forming.

You always seemed to be a step in front of him. 

“Yeah,” Doyoung nodded, though still confused. 

“Well, Kim Doyoung,” you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from grinning too widely, “This is me giving you permission to slip into my DMs.”

Doyoung thought he stopped breathing for a minute. 

The flirt was so . . .  blatant. Not that you couldn’t, but he wasn’t prepared for it nor was he expecting it from you. 

“What’s your at?” Doyoung asked. 

At that moment, you slipped into the passenger seat. You left the door open a crack and called out to him, “Ask Suh! He follows me on Instagram!”

The door slammed shut and Seulgi had already started backing out. 

You were friends with Johnny?

. . . .

1 week, 2 days, 3 hours, and 12 minutes later

[k_dy]: Hey!

[k_dy]: I found my phone 🙂

[k_dy]: It fell out of my pocket in between the cracks of Yuta’s car 💀

[k_dy]: Sliding into you DM’s liked you asked:)))))

[k_dy]: hehehe

[k_dy]: oh wait um –

[k_dy]: 127-07-1218

[k_dy]: call me ;)

[k_dy]: pls 🙏

Yuta snorted at the string of messages and looked up at his friend sitting across the wooden table. Doyoung was stiff, sitting tall in his seat at the cafe. The Iced Americano in front of him had hardly been touched. Doyoung had asked Yuta to meet up to go over his messages – he was worried he messed up because he messaged you this morning with no response. Yuta didn’t have the best dating history, so it was hard to call him an ‘expert’, but he definitely knew how to flirt and play these games a lot better than Doyoung.

“Well?” Doyoung asked, nervously. 

“Dude, you are so lame,” Yuta cackled. "Who puts that many parentheses for a smiley face?"

"Well what I was supposed to do?"

"I'll help you come up with something more . . . concise and slick," Yuta wrinkled his nose in dismay at his friend. "Before she sees all of these, you need to unsend-"

Seen.

Yuta's jaw fell slack.

"What?" Doyoung asked. "What? Did she reply?

He reached for his phone and new blue message flashed across the top of his screen. 

[unknown number]: I think I’m gonna hold off on calling you first lol. 

[unknown number]: But I’ll text first ;)

[unknown number]: This is Y/N. Glad you found your phone <3

(Frankly, you didn’t think he was ever going to slide into your DMs.)

#doyoung x reader #doyoung fluff #doyoung scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #doyoung #kim doyoung

[hornystiel]

for @justcastiel 's 2k celebration

prompts: smoke + yeehaw + light

1,6k. this one is explicit guys

Not to corrupt a falling angel even further, but somehow Dean finds himself in a dimly lit motel room alone with Castiel, offering him a cigarette.

It goes like this. They went to some cowboy-themed bar, some of the monsters there yeed their last haws, Dean’s got a shiner for his troubles and Cas keeps asking him how a cowgirl can be ‘reverse’. A typical evening.

Gradually losing his grace and wings must suck enormous balls, but at least Cas got some disappointment out of his system by beating up those poor bastards, and now they are both fuzzily relaxed back at their shitty room. Still, Cas offered to heal him, when Dean took the shirt off and plopped on the tiny squeaky bed, rummaging in his bag for a smoke, but the feeling of aching muscles, a few scratches and a cigarette in his teeth feels like home to Dean so, no, no healing.

Cas keeps looking at the cigarette with such undivided attention that Dean can’t help but ask “you wanna try one?”

And who’s Cas if not somebody who’s taking the apples from the Eden’s garden for Dean to make a pie.

There’s just one left in a pack and Dean chuckles a bit, thinking about some kind of fucked up destiny games there, because if not god then something even weirder should be looking after them. Or laughing at them. At this point it’s all the same.

Cas sits beside him, the lighter clicks and Dean shows how to inhale smoke, Cas diligently repeats after him and coughs. That makes Dean laugh maybe harder than necessary but, holy shit, they are sitting in this shitty room after a brawl in a cowboy bar and he’s teaching a billion-year-old creature how to smoke a cheap cig. And he fucking coughs. The laughter is a bit bitter, like smoke, because coughing is such a human thing, after all. 

Then it dies completely on his lips when Cas, being a good student as usual, does everything right the second time and exhales, looking up, his eyes glowing slightly. That looks unfairly hot and Dean moves closer without thinking, drawn. His brain is still rebooting because, after a few quiet moments of just watching Cas smoke and flick the ash into the ashtray, the first thing out of his mouth is “let me show you how to shotgun”.

Cas finishes his cigarette, puts it out and looks quizzically at Dean. Because of course he does, Dean’s being an idiot but it’s too late to back out, so he might as well add more depraved behavior to the mix. He moves closer again, and if Cas wasn’t that new to sarcasm and bitchy comebacks - he would’ve reminded Dean about his precious personal space now. But they are both too distracted, staring into each other’s eyes, the air around turning thick, and that has nothing to do with cigarette smoke.

Finally, Dean unfreezes and instructs Cas to close his eyes and open his mouth. Cas is about to argue but at the last moment huffs and does as told. Something’s telling Dean that this is a very rare occasion and he’s mentally puffing up with pride. Dean inhales the smoke of his smoldering cigarette, leans in and slowly exhales into Cas’ open mouth. Only, the thing is, the instructions lacked one crucial point. What to do next.

So this is how their first kiss happens.

Cas just inhales and closes the remaining distance, gently brushing his lips against Dean’s, sharing the smoke, and Dean’s been too hungry for too long to deny himself anymore. They start a bit awkward, uncertain maybe, learning each other’s touches, scratchy stubble, searching hands. Dean’s not sure how much experience with that kind of thing Cas has (he gets irrationally jealous every time he remembers the strip club, that’s why he still doesn’t know what exactly happened there besides the holy lecture), so he doesn’t rush, head still a touch foggy.

Then Cas lets out a quiet uncertain moan, as if he's not sure he's allowed to be affected this much, and that sound is the beginning of the end. He wants to hear it again, he wants to know all the sounds Cas can make when they are making out, he wants to undress him and touch skin, he wants to be touched in return. He knows he’s not allowed to want, let alone so much, but right now he doesn’t fucking care. The remaining cigarette bud burns his fingers, going out, but it has nothing on the burning inside him. 

He sucks on Cas’ tongue and the next moan is louder, Cas’ hands coming up to grip his waist tight, and the fog in his head swirls into a hurricane, and they both will be swept. Today is the day of great decisions for Dean, apparently, because his next move is to straddle Cas and shove himself into him as close as possible. Cas goes with it without a word, readjusting his grip on Dean and kissing him hard. It's still a bit sloppy, but Dean loves it even more because of it. 

Dean knows a few new things about Cas now. He knows that Cas is a biter, because he keeps nipping his lips, his jaw, neck, collarbone, carefully avoiding the bruises and scratches (he wants to punch him for it because the alternative is to cry). Dean also knows that Cas likes when Dean touches his hair, tugging a bit, because he makes soft growling sounds every time Dean does it. He knows that Cas is not shy (as if he ever was), because once he understands that Dean is in no way against being touched and groped (if he listened to his thoughts now all that’ll be here is pleasepleasplease), he slides his huge fucking hands to Dean’s ass and grinds against it, just taking. Oh and Dean also knows now what Cas’ dick feels like, pressed against him. They are not even bothering with the clothes, Dean thinks he might pass out if he spares even one moment away from being glued to Cas. Besides, it’s not like he’s not on the verge of coming already. It would’ve been embarrassing if Dean cared in the slightest. Fortunately, instead of caring he's moving sinuously on top of his personal demise, mouth opened slightly, panting and whining, because, fuck, it feels so good and he feels so alive and finally in his skin, he can't possibly stop. 

Cas is sweating and Dean thinks he hears a stray “fuck” from his lips, which throws him for a loop, but then Cas says “Dean” in his damn rough voice, breathless, and, yeah, Dean's done. He grips Cas' neck, groaning somewhere into his shoulder, hips snapping hard and fast, riding out the orgasm like a man on a mission. He hears Cas' sharp intake of breath and feels his hands petting his thighs gently, lips kissing his temple, and, jesus fucking christ, he's not done coming, he can't process these touches without a tiny heaving sob. 

They stay like this for a few more seconds, Dean coming down from the high and Cas just holding him. Ironically, this is too much for Dean to handle, so he changes lanes as quickly as possible and shoves his hand into Cas' pants. It's Cas' turn to grip him for dear life again, pushing his face into Dean's chest and moaning brokenly. Dean strokes him with ease because Cas is wet, wetter than he expected, and his own cock gives a twitch at that clear indication of how much Cas is enjoying it. It's been a while since he jerked someone else off, but it's not like Cas has a wide range of dudes who did it for him before to compare, so they are good. More than good really, because Cas is so responsive to everything Dean does that his hips occasionally lift off the bed a little and Dean's glad he's still gripping Cas' neck with one hand because otherwise he'd end up on the floor by now. Yee-haw or something. And then Cas slaps his hand on the handprint on Dean's shoulder, chokes on a moan and comes.

Dean feels on fire. The hurricane finally swallowed him and is tossing his insides around the walls of his body like it pleases. His shoulder burns, his chest burns, his eyes see nothing but a white light. Through the noise in his ears he hears a flutter and his hand blindly goes to Cas' back and, yes, something soft and electric meets his touch. It's shivering as Dean pets the feathers, some bits are missing, but Dean is sure Cas is still beautiful. Then the feeling is gone and the burn softens. It's like a warm midday sun, cradling him, soothing. His vision returns but there's no light around except for the glow of the neon sign far down the street and Cas' eyes, that are peering apologetically into Dean's very soul. 

Cas fucking blew all the lights out. And in the meantime healed all of Dean's injuries. Scratch that, Dean thinks he's healed some of his old injuries too, judging by the way his joints and ribs don't feel any discomfort anymore. Everything except the handprint. This fucking angel will be the death of him. 

Dean leans in and pecks Cas on the lips, letting him know that it's okay, he's not mad or anything. He may be falling in love even faster now, but eh. 

They don't let go of each other for a long time after it, just existing calmly in each other's arms. And when Dean finally gets up to go take a shower, Cas evidently not leaving his room tonight, he completes the day by saying - 

"So, do you wanna know more about the reverse cowgirl next time?" 

Cas chuckles and goes to join him in the shower. 

#hello elliot and congrats again! #also this one doesn't show up in the tags no matter what i do so yeah #we die like men #destiel #destiel ficlet #deancas #deancas ficlet #justcastiel2k #spn #mdni #thisisapaige #spxcekya #becauseofthebowties #usermoogs #deancaskiss #hashtag writing

[chanis-banani]

Dirt on my leather

"rub some dirt on it."

Inspiration: 'Dirt on my leather' by WOODZ

Synopsis: you and Seungyoun come home drunk after a concert, get even more drunk and have the horniest sex of your life

switch! Seungyoun x switch! reader (gn)

3.7k words

Contains: alcohol (whiskey), swearing, thigh-riding, marking (hickeys and nail scratches), choking, unprotected sex, biting, hair-pulling, choker-pulling, creampie

autor's note: there are spoilers for upcoming smuts hidden in this post. see if you can find 'em ;)

Seungyoun tilted his head back and chugged the whiskey straight from the bottle. Tamnavulin sherry cask - cheap, but decent. He handed the bottle to you and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You also took a big gulp from the whiskey and made a disgusted face as you swallowed it. Even the sweetest of whiskeys still tasted like gasoline.

☆ smut under the cut ☆

You and Seungyoun had just attended a rock concert together and it had been amazing. You had joined the moshpit together, drank a fuck ton of alcohol, carried the lead singer when he was stage diving and headbanged until your necks cramped up. After the concert, you were both still filled with adrenaline and alcohol - not to mention how horny you both were. You could barely keep your hands away from each other as you drunkly hurried home. Once you had finally arrived, Seungyoun rushed to grab the whiskey while you put on some music from the band you just watched. He sat down on the couch and once you were within his reach, he grabbed your waist and pulled you on his lap.

The way he kissed you was wild and hungry and his lips still tasted like whiskey. The whiskey tasted better from his mouth than from the bottle. This way it wasn't as overwhelming and you could kind of see how it supposedly tasted like white chocolate and caramel.

Suddenly he pulled away and pushed you from his lap. You looked at him with a startled expression, but he stood up as well and hooked his fingers under the edge of your shirt. "Undress," he said promptly. Before you even really got the chance to execute his orders, he had already pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it in the corner. His eagerness turned you on like crazy and you could feel that warm fuzzy feeling in your lower belly increase by the second. You quickly brought your hands down to your pants to unzip them. As soon as they were open, he took it upon himself to pull them down for you, pulling your underwear along.

The clothes were quickly kicked somewhere to the back of the room, after which Seungyoun sat back down on the couch. "Wait, won't you undress?" you sputtered, since you were now completely in the nude while he still wore all his clothes from the concert. "Not yet," he replied with a grin. His arms snaked around your waist, swiftly pulling you back on his lap like before.

As he pulled you on his lap, he spread his legs a little to make sure you sat on just one of his thighs. The leather of his pants felt cold against your skin, especially on your sensitive area. Both of his hands were brought to your hips and he pulled you a bit closer towards him so he could kiss you again. But he didn't stop there.

Soon you felt how he began to guide your hips back and forth on his thigh and you immediately realized what he was doing. He had worn his leather pants to the concert, because he knew how much you liked them, and now he was making you grind your naked body on them.

His pretty lips were still connected to yours while his hands continued to guide you back and forth, making you let out little moans in between your kisses. It felt so wrong, yet so good to hump his thigh like this, dirtying the leather in the process. It might have been the alcohol, but soon you began to lose yourself completely in the feeling.

The corners of Seungyoun's mouth curled into a cheeky little grin when he realized you no longer needed his guidance to ride his thigh. Now that his hands were free, he removed them from your hips. He rested one of them on your waist while he brought his other hand to the back of your head, digging his fingers into your hair. His grip on your hair tightened and he pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck. "Seungyoun-" you murmured under your breath, your voice shaky.

His hair tickled against your cheek when he brought his lips to your neck and began to kiss and suck on your skin. You were so taken aback by this sudden feeling that you didn't even realize you had stopped grinding yourself on him. Of course he didn't like this, so he lowered his hand from your waist down to your ass and roughly helped you on your way again.

The smell of his cologne, the friction against your sweet spot and the stinging sensation from his hickeys all made your head spin. Seungyoun held you a little more tightly as he began to suck on your skin even more roughly. You could tell by the burning feeling on your neck that this mark would remain there for at least a week.

When he pulled away, you could still feel the sting on your neck. He looked into your eyes with a sweet, yet somewhat mischievous smile on his face. "Y/n?... Would you please suck me off?" You could tell from the tone of his voice how horny he was. Until now you hadn't payed much attention to his crotch, but when you looked down, you could see a huge bulge through his leather pants. Besides that, you also noticed a stain on his thigh from where you had been riding him.

You let out a little gasp and looked back up at him with a grin on your face. "Of course," you said with a sweet voice and you pressed yourself against him while sliding your hand into his pants. He let out an excited little gasp when you found the tip of his dick with your fingers and stroked it playfully. He wrapped his arms around you to pull you into another kiss and slid his hands down to grab your ass tightly.

After a little while of making out and teasing his cock, you disconnected your lips from his and removed your hand from his pants. Just when he began to pout at you, you got on your knees in front of him and hastily began to undo his belt. While you were working to take off his pants, he pulled his shirt over his head. Soon all of his clothes had been removed and tossed aside and the only thing he still wore was the choker around his neck.

You took a moment to admire him, looking up at his beautiful body and stroking your fingers along his sides. His dick brushed against your cheek when you pressed a kiss on the gun tattoo on his belly. Then you trailed a few more kisses towards the base of his cock. Once you were there, you licked your way up from the base towards the tip, earning a deep grunt from him. He gently stroked your cheek at first, but once you took his tip into your mouth, he moved his hand to the back of your head and held on to your hair a little less gently.

Perhaps it was the whiskey, but you had the feeling that Seungyoun didn't have as much self control today. Usually he would let you suck him off however you wanted, but this time it's like he didn't have enough patience and he began to thrust himself into your mouth. At first he was still gentle with you, but he began to lose himself more and more in the sensation.

His grip on your hair tightened as he moved your head in accordance with his hips. Tears ran down your cheeks as he began to hit the back of your throat again and again, but dear lord, you had never been this turned on in your entire life. There was something about how Seungyoun pleasured himself with you that made your lower stomach feel hot and fuzzy and you began to long for his dick to fill another hole of yours.

Suddenly he pulled himself completely out of you, leaving your mouth empty and longing. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes leveling with yours and he gave you an almost feral look. "Get on the couch." His voice sounded husky and wild. Your drunken thoughts clouded your mind and it took you a while to process what he was asking from you. Apparently you took too long, because suddenly you felt his hand on the back of your neck and his lips connected with yours again. Seungyoun was too impatient to wait for you to follow his orders at this point, so he decided that he might as well fuck you on the floor.

He guided you to lay on your back and quickly got on top of you. He continued to kiss you while his hand traveled from the back of your neck to your throat. You squirmed and moaned against his lips when you felt how his fingers tightened around your neck. At the same time the tip of his dick already poked at your entrance, driving you even more crazy.

Once again your head was spinning in ultimate bliss. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you and to make this known to him, you bucked your hips up, hoping that somehow he might slip into you. However, he pulled himself away just enough so you couldn't reach his dick and he chuckled against your lips when you whined at him.

You bucked your hips up at him again, this time more forcefully, but still he made sure to stay just out of your reach. Just when you were about to give it yet another try, Seungyoun pulled his lips away from yours and tightened his grip around your neck a little more. "Are you really that needy?" he asked with an evil little smirk and you nodded heavily in response. "Alright then," he said, now with a more gentle tone. He let go of your neck and gave you a little kiss on the lips, after which he pressed his forehead against yours.

His eyes were closed as he took his length into his hand to aim it at your entrance more properly. Considering how wildly you had been making out, the way he inserted himself into you was very gentle. His uncontrolled neediness now made room for his more tender and caring side. You both held your breath while he began to enter you, but once he got a little deeper, neither of you could resist a little moan.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked. You nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. He pressed a quick kiss on your lips and then pulled away to look at you again. "Can I be a little rough with you today?" His eyes had an excited little twinkle in them. God, if it were up to you, this man could be rough with you any day. "Only if I can be rough with you as well," you replied.

He flashed a big smile and pressed another quick kiss on your lips. Then he brought his mouth to your neck. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his breath on your skin and you squirmed beneath him, now even more turned on than before. Seungyoun began to kiss your neck once again while you desperately tried to move your hips to feel the friction of him inside you. But he didn't give in at all. He made sure to keep his own pelvis very still and pushed his weight down on you so you wouldn't move too much either.

Just when you wondered why he even asked if he could be rough with you, you suddenly felt his teeth sink down into your neck. At the same time, he pulled his cock almost completely out of you, only to push himself back inside at a provokingly slow pace. He continued to move his hips very very slowly like that, which ultimately made the sensation more intense. When he was inside, you felt full and warm and like the two of you became one. But when only his tip was inside, you felt an intense, aching urge to somehow make him fill you back up again.

Luckily for you, he was just as needy as you and this quickly caused his thrusts to become more intense. His teeth clenched more tightly onto your neck as he picked up the pace a bit and he let out low, hungry grunts against your skin. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, digging your fingers into his hair. "Fuck..." you moaned under your breath. The way he bit and sucked on your neck left a slight stinging sensation on your skin and it felt amazing.

Since Seungyoun could tell that you really enjoyed it, he became more comfortable as well and slowly stopped holding back. He became completely relaxed and submitted to his urges. The way he bit your neck became more wild, not to mention how he was pumping in and out of you.

What had begun as slow, intimate movements now became a hungry, almost feral kind of drilling. You moaned his name over and over again and pulled him more tightly against you as a fuzzy kind of bliss took hold of your body. You felt lightheaded and lost all awareness of your surroundings, except for Seungyoun. All you could register was how he slammed himself into you, mercilessly hitting your sweet spot over and over again. And how his mouth traveled along your neck, leaving bites and kisses and hickeys all over it. If he kept going like this, you would surely reach your climax very soon. But it would be too soon. You wanted to savor this desperate neediness a little longer.

Before Seungyoun knew what was going on, you had pushed him off of you and thrown him on his back on the floor. "Y/n!" he squealed in surprise. You got on top of him and immediately sank down on his cock, taking his entire length in all at once. This made him let out a loud moan and he squeezed your ass tightly. His cheeks and ears were bright red from surprise and excitement. God, the way he looked at you just made you want to fuck his brains out.

He nervously adjusted the metal choker around his neck a little bit and at the same time you saw his eyes traveling to the large bite mark he left on your neck. It must have looked quite impressive, because the corner of his mouth curled up into a subtle, mischievous smirk. Even his own lips were swollen from the intense work he had done on your neck.

You bent over him and brought your face very close to his. "You must be so proud of how you marked me..." you mumbled in a low voice. You noticed how his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed a little nervously and goosebumps appeared on his neck. "So dirty..." you whispered and then you licked your way up from his chin to his lips, locking him into a passionate kiss.

He shuddered in pleasure, but you didn't give him the chance to savor the moment. You sat up again and placed a hand on his chest to make sure he would stay on his back. He pouted at you, but you just looked down at him with a large grin on your face. "Stay put now," you cooed while sliding your fingertips along his sides. His dick was still inside of you while you sat on top of him like this and it was very obvious that he wanted nothing more than for you to move your hips. Yet he stayed put like you ordered.

You grabbed the bottle of whisky from the coffee table, pulling the cork out with a little pop. Seungyoun watched as you took a swig from the bottle, only to put the bottle away without offering him any. He looked offended and just when he was about to protest, you grabbed him by his choker and roughly pulled him up so he was sitting as well. This already took him by surprise, but then you continued to kiss the whiskey from your mouth into his. A big drop of the substance escaped from between your lips and rolled down Seungyoun's chin.

You cupped his face with your hands and when you pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with the horniest expression you had ever seen om him. "You're so fucking hot," he mumbled and he licked the spilled whiskey from his lips. He inched his face towards you again to continue kissing you, but you placed your fingers against his lips to stop him.

"What do we say when we want something?" you asked. "Please," he replied with a little pout on his lips. "Almost," you said with a mean little grin. He pouted even more and gave you a desperate look. "Pretty please?" "That's right."

You connected your lips with his again and began to move your hips up and down, instantly turning him into a moaning mess. Both sitting up like this was an intimate position and it was easy for him to reach your sweet spot this way. You felt how one of his hands gripped into your hair, while his other hand held your ass so tightly, you were sure it would leave a bruise. Even though you moved your hips quite quickly on your own, Seungyoun was so needy that his hand guided you to be even more forceful with him.

Both of you moaned loudly against each other's whiskey-stained lips as you fucked on the floor like this. Slowly but surely, you could feel that hot, fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach again as you began to get closer to your climax. You moved one of your hands down from his cheek to the choker around his neck and tugged it to pull him more tightly against you, making him squeal with delight. Then you pulled your lips away from his to trail kisses down to his neck. Once you found the right spot, you bit down on his neck just like he had done to you, making him cry out with pleasure.

You continued to bite and suck on his neck to make sure he would be marked up as well. All while moving your hips up and down in a way that made him reach as deeply into you as possible. With every thrust, he hit your sweet spot, making that knot in your lower stomach worse and worse.

Once it became too much to handle, you removed your mouth from his neck in order to embrace him more tightly, resting your head on his shoulder. This signaled to Seungyoun that you were about to cum and he reassuringly rubbed your back as you fucked your own brains out on his cock. He turned his head a little bit so his lips were right next to your ear. An intense shiver went down your spine when you felt his breath on your skin as he whispered:

"Go on. Cum on my cock for me."

Like some kind of spell, this instantly untied the knot in your stomach. You cried out loudly and dug your nails into his back as a wave of pleasure came crashing down on you. Your body trembled, your heart was beating like crazy and you gasped for air as you hit one of the most intense climaxes of your life.

Seungyoun moaned along with you and held you tightly to support you through your orgasm. But before it had even washed over you completely, you were suddenly on your back again and he was fucking himself into you with deep, harsh thrusts. You cried out even more, desperately clinging on to his neck while you could feel how mercilessly he pounded himself into you.

Within mere seconds you felt completely overstimulated. Blurry stars were dancing before your eyes and all of your thoughts completely lost their coherence. All you could process was the sensation of his length slamming into you again and again, while he moaned out your name under his breath. His fingers dug themselves into your hair and he cried out the most desperate of moans.

His last few thrusts were a bit slower, but reached even deeper. And then, with a loud cry, he plunged himself as deeply into you as humanly possible as he reached his climax. You could feel the intense pulsations of his dick inside you as he filled you with his cum. Everything felt hot. Your face was hot. His skin felt hot against yours. His dick felt hot and so did the cum that now slowly began to leak out of you.

Both completely out of breath, you lay there silently in each other's embrace, with Seungyoun's dick still inside of you. You took a quick glance at the time to see how long you had been going at it - 4:58 am. You had been fucking for over an hour.

The two of you lay on the floor like that for a while, completely exhausted and panting heavily. Seungyoun lay with his head on your chest and played around with your fingers while you used your free hand to stroke his head. Suddenly he lifted his head a little, like he noticed something.

He sat up and grabbed something from the floor, holding it in front of you with a weird grin on his face. "Look what we did!" he exclaimed. In his hand, he held the leather pants that he had been wearing that evening. Apparently they had been lying right next to your butt on the floor this whole time. Now they were stained with your fluids, Seungyoun's cum and whisky.

You pulled a disgusted face and laughed. "Well next time you should undress if you don't want to get dirt on your leather."

#woodz smut #cho seungyoun smut #woodz fanfic #cho seungyoun fanfic #seungyoun smut #seungyoun fanfic

[not-alien-girl-v]

some george fluff, maybe him and reader are childhood friends, or they’re in their school era ( idk if that makes sense💀) and they’re just pining for each other but neither know the feelings are mutual

Heartbreak Girl (George Daniel)

warning: drinking, moshing, smoking, language

note: of course i understand what that means i’m the same bitch who called mattys 2013 tumblr days his ‘small era’ also im starting to realize a lot of you people are british. weird. im from california and in PST but some of you are european or whatever. strange

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

the blood is rushing straight to adam's head from where he lays upside down off of y/n's bed. the comforter is pink, mirroring the walls which are the same hue, so him and his leather jacket look out of place. she's sat at a vanity, carefully applying mascara to what's left of her lashes.

"so why are you so against having fun again?" he asks, out of genuine curiosity but it sounds like he's poking fun.

she snaps her head around, hair whipping around at her shoulder. "it's not like that. i'm not against fun. i just had a... thing... the last time i went."

he sits up, twisting upright to lean back on his elbows. "define 'thing.'"

polaroids from over the years are used as cheap decorations in this pink bedroom of hers. they’re taped the walls, tucked into the edges of this vanity mirror, and unbeknownst to anyone else, she hides a few intimate ones under her mattress.

they aren’t dirty or lewd, but they depict george daniel at some of his most beautiful moments, or so she believes, and they’re private enough that she doesn’t want anyone to walk in and see them, so she keeps them private, just for her.

sighing, "it was george," she's interrupted by adam's loud groan of annoyance but continues anyway, "he was just being weird to me. a bit cold, and he was completely sober through it because he was driving home, so it wasn't like 'greening out' kind of weird it was just him being bitchy to me. i'm scared he found out i like him or something, so i've been keeping my distance."

"just avoid him tonight. if he's choosing to be so cold to you, i'm sure he won't seek you out. you'll be fine."

the makeup adds pounds of weight to her face and she feels undesirable, but then again, she feels the same without the makeup, anyway. it’s a way of life to her.

she’s like a little child in her mothers pearls and heels, like an ugly girl in a paper mache head of a pretty one. she’s always wondered where this sprouted from. it’s not like she has some incredibly beautiful sister she’s been compared to, and she was never harshly bullied growing up, or if she was, george would have taken care of it for her. ‘no one makes fun of her but me,’ he would say.

"you're right. when did you get so wise, hann?" she begins applying a wine red lipstick to her lips precariously, when the door to her room is slammed open by ross, who is careless as he stands there. the red leaves a large smudge off of her lips and she turns back to glare at ross.

"you're still going tonight?" he asks, not caring to read any context clues. "nice lipstick, is that how girls are doing it these days?" he laughs cruelly, like a mean older brother. she throws a decorative pillow his way as he laughs himself out of the room.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

she hops out of hann's car, doc marten boots clunking on the pavement below. with one quick glance around the landscape of the parking lot, she doesn't see george, which is a good sign, meaning she can proceed with her normal routine, which starts with a cigarette outside.

she started smoking at 16, and now, at 18, she’s more than addicted to it, but it’s just another issue in her life she’ll push aside and never address until it inevitably causes her downfall.

she's adjacent to the entrance, but she always hangs around outside for a few minutes before she buys her ticket and heads inside. cupping her hand around the lighter, the flame flicks into motion and burns the tip of her thumb in the process. a large, looming figure approaches her from her peripheral and it’s roughly six feet and four inches tall and she knows it's already too late.

removing the stick from her mouth as a courtesy, she turns to face george, lazy smile on his face. "i knew i'd find you out here," he grins.

"you found me." she's not sure what his angle is here right now, why he's smiling, why he sought her out after making it abundantly clear the last time they met that he was no friend of hers.

"well, come on, i'll buy your ticket, come," he grabs her by her wrist and she sneaks it out of his grasp but follows him to the entrance table, where one person sits with a cashbox and a marker.

"it's fine, you don't have to," she reaches around to dig cash out of her back pocket but he halts her, again, grabbing her, and she can see now just how drunk he is, he is normally way less handsy when sober.

"no, please, i insist, it's no problem, not when it's you." the words make her tingle in an odd way and she swears to herself every time that its a feeling she will ignore but she never can.

"what's that mean?"

"it means i owe you money, anyway." he hands the cash to the collector and the person draws an x on the back of her right hand with their marker, ensuring her paid entrance.

"hey, i'm gonna... um..." she's pointing to the entrance where she intends on going but george has already gotten distracted in speaking to somebody working at the merch counter. it's whatever. he's always like this, his attention is never long-lasting, and sometimes she swears that's part of the appeal. that he never seems to care too much, he's so nonchalant, like his attention is something she needs to work for, to earn. something about the 'chase' or whatever.

when the 1975 isn't playing a show at this small venue, adam and ross tend to volunteer to work at the functions, doing small things such as selling drinks and snacks, cleaning up here and there, but it's mostly just an excuse to hangout. tonight, adam is selling the snacks and drinks. ross is supposed to be, as well, but he's just eating the snacks, mostly, sitting behind adam so he doesn't have to deal with customers.

"can i get a cup of coffee?" she asks adam, who greets her with a bright smile. his expression is warm, almost apologetic, he's speaking with his eyes, 'how are you doing tonight?' adam is by far her best friend on this earth.

believe it or not, george used to hold that title for years, until she met adam through george a few years ago, and despite him being two years older, the two got along swimmingly, brought even closer once she realized her feelings for george, which ultimately wedged it's way between her friendship with him.

she even dated adam for 2 strange months before they both came to find that they were better off as friends, and they've been even closer ever since.

"ay, is george being a dickhead again?" ross yells from the back, a bag of chips in hand and also filling up his crunching mouth. he has a habit of speaking with his mouth full. "what'd he do. i'll fuck him up if he's been bad again!"

his threats are empty, ross is too much of a lover to be a fighter, and she knows he's just saying it to make her feel better.

"he's fine. it's all fine, stop looking at me, stop worrying about me, i'll survive this tonight, i'm fine." she informs and adam doesn't believe it, his skeptic gaze following her all the way to the couch that's located in the back room.

the show is in between bands right now, with a total of 4 playing tonight. the first one finished up their set a few minutes ago so the stage room consists of one band packing up and the next band setting up to play.

as she sits silently on the couch, sipping away at her coffee, she notices george walk past her, not stopping to talk or sit or even look her way, which is fine, why wouldn't it be? it's not like they're supposed to be friends or anything. right?

he walks past again, looking lost.

the third time he passes, she calls out for him, "g? what are you doing?" he looks genuinely surprised to see her sitting there on the couch, like she's just suddenly gained visibility and she hasn't been sitting on the couch the whole time.

his dopey drunk smile shows up on his handsome face again, curly brown hair in the way of his eyes and he plops his heavy body down next to her on the old couch, making her bounce a bit on the other end. there's only room for two on this couch.

she makes eye contact with adam from across the room, and it's like he can bluetooth connect to her brain just through one thoughtful glance, but through the wireless connection, she informs him that 'its fine,' like that's her new catchphrase for the night. adam nods but doesn't let the two on the couch out of his sight.

"i was looking for you."

"you found me."

"hey, you said that already," he pokes his finger into her cheek and she smiles, bashfully pushing his hand down. "ok wait, when the next band plays will you get up and dance with me?"

"i don't know, are you going to throw me into the pit again, mister?"

he laughs all too loudly for a private conversation, "for the last time, honey, it wasn't me, i swear!"

she huffs, rolling her eyes, "sure, yeah, you just happened to be standing right there with a guilty look on your face. shit hurt, that guy punched me so hard i got a black eye! you remember that?"

he gets silent and still, a little too silent and too still before he suddenly blurts out, "i punched that guy afterwards."

"what?"

"he knew better than that. i wasn't just gonna stand there and watch him push you around like that, it isn't right."

she's blushing now. she wishes she wasn't, but this is the world she lives in. she speaks small, "you didn't have to do that."

"of course i did. that's what friends are for."

"right."

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

once they hear the heavy drums introducing the first song of the next bands, george is quickly up on his feet, reaching out his hands for her to grab, and he pulls her up with too much force, sending her flying into him, which she chooses not to discuss as she wordlessly continues next to him over to the stage room.

people have already filed into the room, forming a decent sized crowd, and even aside from the heavy music playing on the stage before them, it's loud.

she stands awkwardly by his side, not knowing if she should dance or mosh or leave the room or go home or go cry about it to adam in the next room. however, once the crowdkillers come in, throwing themselves blindly into the confines of the crowd, george makes a point to pull her out of harms way.

it's thoughtful, it's really thoughtful, that he doesn't want her to get hurt by anyone, that he doesn't want anyone to touch her, or maybe it's just that he feels guilty for last time. either way, he threw his arm around her shoulder and held her steady there to his left.

then, seemingly out of nowhere, matty crawls out from the midst of the crowd, shit eating grin plastered over his stupid, stupid face. "don't you two look cozy. almost like a real couple."

in this very moment, matty is the worst man in the world and she wishes him nothing but death in his future. she also wishes she never confessed her crush on george to matty because, of course, he can't shut his big fat mouth.

but then george does the unthinkable, he gets a fake-serious expression on his face and pulls her in by the shoulder to a tight, messy hug. her face is smushed into his shirt but it's not like she's complaining. she waits to see what happens.

"of course she's my wife and i love her. we have two dogs at home and a horse," he seems to laugh his ass off at his own joke, something about the horse really doing it for him.

knowingly, matty responds, "you're wasted, man," he claps george on the back like best buddies do, then to y/n, "i trust you'll get him home safe, won't you, love?"

matty is a bit of a small guy and he doesn't have any fighting experience. if rage completely takes over her body, mixed with adrenaline, she's sure she can rip his entire head off and chuck it onstage. but george doesn't let go of her, so she'll never know if it's a possibility.

she reluctantly peels herself off of him and with an awkward feeling, "a horse?"

he laughs in her face, "yeah, a horse."

she decides to play along with it. "since when do we have a horse? i can't handle your spontaneity, we need a divorce.”

“fine. but i’m taking the horse. you can keep the kids.”

“i never even wanted the horse, silly,” the lights are on and the band’s set is over now, so she walks out the door of the venue and continues out to the parking lot, more than sure he’s following behind like a lost puppy. she’d take sappy drunk george over cold sober george any day.

the night is inky black and light pollution causes stars to cease to exist in the sky. it’s no big deal. y/n’s seen them before on other, clearer nights, and george just doesn’t care.

she leans against the stone wall of the building and george stops to stand right in front of her. he’s close. he’s too close. he’s not still in place. he’s jittery, fidgety, his hands wring together like his words will pour out of them like water if he squeezes hard enough. they never do.

she chews the inside of her mouth, maybe all the damage she does to her cheek from her teeth is the reason george never liked her back. maybe that was the big deal, the one reason that held the line.

but she knows things aren’t black and white like that. she knows it’s a cocktail of things all put together that george has observed about her over the many years growing alongside one another.

she could argue it’s near impossible to love someone through all the changes from childhood to adolescence, all the phases and new shapes an individual inevitably takes in order to find some peace of mind.

but it wouldn’t be true, because through it all, she’s still so in love with him.

she’s thought about writing him a letter. a long letter, it will cover everything she wanted to say, everything she almost did but never came out. in this letter, she’d magically gain the confidence and cadence of an old poet, an old soul who’s words are like honey to the tongue, and she’d give it to him.

no, she’d give it to adam to give it to him. no, she’d mail it to him. his mom would retrieve it from the mailbox and leave it on his messy desk where he wouldn’t notice it, much less read it, until she’s long gone, somewhere far, far away.

she’d go to london. no, she’d go to amsterdam. no, seattle. if he dared to read the letter word by word, between the lines, he’d find secret instructions telling him to meet her there.

wherever she ended up fleeing to, it wouldn’t matter, as long as she would be far, far away from the aftermath of confessing her feelings to him. she can’t imagine looking him in the eye when it happens, much less being right in front of him.

she’d stand at a distance, a 1,000 mile distance, and watch her life implode into chaos and she would have nothing to do with it until she chose to come back. or maybe she wouldn’t. and maybe when reading the letter, george would never know to meet her in seattle, maybe he’d get two lines in and he’d fold it up, crumple it, and toss it into his wastebin under his desk in his bedroom.

then maybe years later, she’d finally come home for christmas, and he’d have stayed there, he’d have waited for years and years for her. and by then, the city of seattle had changed her, she’d have lost the meaning of christmas, and george, who had taken up work at a local christmas tree farm, could return it to her with a few witty jokes and sweet kisses.

then she could sell the story to hallmark and leave again. maybe george could tag along this time. maybe the years apart aided him in gaining some worldly wisdom, and he’d know to follow when she walks out of her own life for the second time.

george’s fingers dig into her knotted hair. his thumbs parallel on each side of her frosty cheeks and his mouth is blowing warm air onto her lips.

she gasps, quiet and low, “what-“

he acts for himself and doesn’t let her finish her sentence, he traps her lips into the embrace of his own.

she always did wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. it had occurred in dreams many, many times before and once they parted, it would always be followed by some friendly remark, like ‘i was just curious to know what would happen’ and then the plot of the dream would continue on like normal.

but this isn’t a dream, this is real life, as real as it gets, and if she doesn’t act on this now, she may never get another chance.

she pushes him away, “what the hell george?”

he stumbles back, backing away from her absentmindedly. “fuck, god, fuck, i’m sorry, shit, i’m so sorry.” he grovels like it will fix this. “i’ll go, i’ll leave you alone, i’m sorry.”

now it’s her turn to grab him harshly by the arm. “fuck you, no. you’re staying here. we need to talk about this. why did you do that?”

“i’m so sorry, i’m so, so sorry. i’ve just had these feelings. for so long, i’ve had these feelings and i didn’t know what to do so i didn’t do anything and i know i should have but i didn’t and i’m sorry. and i thought that tonight was the right time and that you have feelings too but you don’t and that’s ok, i’ll leave you alone for now, i’m sorry i screwed things up with you, i hope you can forgive me.”

george doesn’t cry. it’s not in a toxic masculine way, it’s not like he’s not allowed to cry or he doesn’t let himself cry, but as a general rule of thumb, he simply doesn’t cry.

y/n’s known him for ages. even as a little kid, falling off his bike, tripping over his feet, blood could be gushing out of a fatal wound of his body and she swears he would just walk it off, free of any tears.

but now tears stream down his face. it’s a sight to see. he roughly wipes them away with the sleeve of his shirt, even looking surprised at himself to be crying.

and she isn’t quite sure what to do about any of this, she’s aware, now, that her initial reaction made her seem as though the kiss was unwelcome. and that’s far from the truth.

“stop. just stop.”

he’s got a desperate look on his face and it physically hurts to see.

“what do you want me to do? i’ll do anything. just tell me what to do.” he looks much more sober now. his eyes are more focused and he’s swaying a lot less.

“kiss me again. please.”

he just stands there, jaw slack. if he were animated, he’d have a big question mark over his head.

so she makes the move, instead. she holds him by the back of the neck and kisses him harder than he had.

he smiles into the kiss but again, he pulls apart, this time holding her head tenderly with both hands. “you’re confusing me,” he shakes his head.

“then i’ll make it simple. i’ve had the biggest crush on you since the first grade. here i was thinking i’d be the only pining idiot but now you’re here telling me you feel the same? i can’t believe it.”

he giggles, “you mean year 2?”

“that’s what you get out of this?”

he smiles wider. “can i take you home?”

“you’re drunk. i’ll take you home.”

“yeah, yeah that sounds good.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

#george daniel #george daniel fanfic #george daniel x reader #george daniel fluff #george daniel fic #george daniel the 1975 #george daniel smut #george daniel fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #ross macdonald the 1975 #the 1975 #matty the 1975 #1975 #the 1975 fic #matty healy 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald x reader #adam hann x reader #fanfiction #fluff

[kitkatopinions]

Speaking of characters like Whitley, do you ever wonder why they add so many new characters into the story only to quickly forget about them/kill them off?

I think some of this is a little bit just the nature of shows like RWBY that build in plot and locations. The kids need teachers and classmates at Beacon, not all of them can be orphans and/or only children, there's kids from other schools coming over for the Vytal Tournament, Salem needs to be able to match forces, and each location needs people too, plus on top of that there is a need for threats and drama outside of just supernatural end-of-the-world stuff which gets you characters like Jacques, Cardin, Cordovin, and theoretically Fennec and Corsac and Ilia, etcetera (though those three were part of the wildly bad White Fang arc, so...) The problem comes with giving focus with not a lot of real follow through, leading the story to be far too packed with way too many characters that we as an audience are supposed to care about when it's not going to matter later on.

The main eight and Qrow all have a lot they need done for me to consider this any sort of good, but the show never gives them proper focus, instead just piling on more that needs dealt with (case in point, V9 not actually dealing with anything and instead making Ruby try to commit suicide which will obviously also need lots of focus to get properly worked out.) And on top of that, they seem afraid of giving any proper down time, and they overload the cast by making side characters but then giving them enough focus that they by all rights should also matter from here on in but not enough focus to do more than take attention from the mains (case in point, making Maria and Pietro important enough that they should matter to the mains and/or others but then giving them very little to do and then abandoning them out in the tundra with none of the mains acknowledging their existence. The problem really isn't the number of characters in this show, but rather how the writers handle them. They're very good at packing RWBY full of ideas and concepts and then not giving any of them the proper follow through, and the characters are just another part of that. They brought Neon and Flynt back in V7-8 just to have them fight in the fall of Atlas and who knows if they're even going to be names on a memorial let alone have their deaths matter or impact the mains at all.

And as for killing off some of the characters they introduce, I also wouldn't have a real problem with that if it was better done. Shows like RWBY need a little death, to keep the stakes up, and said deaths should include characters the audience likes and knows or else the stakes aren't high anyway. But RWBY's V7-9 deaths feel more like cheap shock value deaths where they try to introduce (or reintroduce in Penny's case) characters and make them likable and important just to kill them without any real care towards consequences or reactions or whether or not the character was established enough to justify the response in other characters and basically just not having the deaths matter anyway. Clover was speedran into a rushed "friendship" with Qrow just so he could have a giant reaction to Clover's badly orchestrated death, and meanwhile Ironwood's death just happened without it mattering to anyone. Penny and Ruby's reunion and subsequent friendship in V7 was lackluster at best, so it feels even more like she was killed for shock value and for Jaune's stupid arc and then the writers felt no need to even acknowledge the fact that Jaune killed her. Etc. Etc.

This ask kind of just turned into me ranting about this, lol, but yeah, I do wonder why they put so many characters into the story in more significant roles only to ditch them or kill them. I think a big part of it is just because they have to introduce characters but don't know how to just leave them in more bit part roles and always have to try to make them more involved. I also think they keep introducing new characters that they want to make matter because... They really don't seem to have a lot that they want the mains to do but they need to keep things interesting. For instance, Weiss wasn't given much focus in Atlas despite the fact that she should've been heavily in focus during that season, but then they introduced tons of new characters and conflicts to fill the run time.

But also, the RWBY writers have a big 'bigger is better' 'quantity over quality' problem. Just like they introduce big story beats only to forget to treat them with the proper weight or make them have any natural consequences, they introduce lots of characters that they want to be relevant only to get in over their heads. I've said it before and I'll say it again, RWBY's number one selling point is that it's brimming over with so much potential and good ideas, but its biggest problem is that the writers always fumble on execution and don't give any of it the proper treatment or care, and the overly bloated cast is definitely part of that.

#rwde

[p-paradoxa]

Andor Appreciation Week

Day Three: Favorite Arc/Episodes - Narkina 5

Melshi observes. For @andorappreciation. Some Melshi x Cassian; warning for brief injury description.

Unit 5-2-D, Table 5. Twelfth—no, thirteenth shift since the new guy arrived. I don’t really keep count, but Keef’s as good a reference point as any.

The room’s not falling behind any longer, Kino says, but it feels like we’re rushing more than we used to. Building up our productivity little by little, pushing our limits further. I think Kino knows it, too, but he’d be damned before he admits it.

There’s some tension on the floor today. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You get numb to it eventually. But the way that guy at Table Four—Jergen, I think his name is—seized up when they got fried yesterday seemed to rattle the newer blood. It was grim, I admit; the way he went down and his limbs all locked up.

Not all guys take these kinds of things the same way. Most of us just look away. We can't do anything about it. Others—newer guys, like I said—stare and gawk, especially if they haven’t been fried past level one yet.

But I was standing there at the table, across from Keef, and I couldn’t forget his face as Kino called the med tech.

Keef didn’t look rattled. Just angry. A shake of the head, that clenching of the jaw he does, restraining something. It was subtle, but I saw it. 

I think he gets it. Gets that this isn’t punishment. 

If I were Jergen, I would’ve worked harder for the sake of the table, and to save my own hide. But it’s not as if he did anything wrong. Well, I suppose we’ve all done something wrong. But our captors don’t really care about that. A petty thief gets fried just the same as a murderer. A man with one shift left isn’t spared more mercy than a man with a hundred.

It’s not punishment. It’s cruelty. A slow and calculated torture. They could build machines to do this work, but they won’t. The Empire was born using loads of cheap, disposable lives. It isn't going to stop now just because we don't all look alike. We can’t just drill or weld or build our way out of this.

Jergen’s back to work now. Saw him on program this morning. I can’t see how he’s doing, and I don’t care. All I care about is being able to stand on my own two feet without feeling like I’m walking on cinders.

And I don’t want to see that happen to these guys, either. Especially not Ulaf. I don’t think the old man could take another volt.

It goes well. We’ve hit our goal, and if we get another down, we’ll surpass it. Might even get some flavor for dinner tonight.

We’re screwing on the outer shell, finishing up the device we're working on, when Xaul shouts “Kriff!” all of a sudden.

He drops the drill onto the table and pulls his hand back.

We glance up at him. “You good?” I ask. He looks fine to me; no blood drawn. But I have to be sure.

“Yeah. Just fucking pinched it.” He’s rubbing his right index finger. Must’ve caught it between the rivets. It happens. It’ll heal. We have to move on, though. We're almost there.

Keef decides not to let it go.

“I’ll cover you,” he mutters. He moves in and finishes the rivet Xaul was drilling.

“Like hell you will,” Xaul chides lightly. “Kino’ll have your ass. I’m fine.”

“We just gotta build one more, right? He won’t notice in time.”

We’re ahead of schedule. If we weren’t, I’d say that losing a man would slow us down too much. But Xaul’s taking his sweet time nursing that finger. He’d slow us down, anyway. So I don’t complain. Neither does anyone else.

“Alright,” Xaul relents. “Let's be subtle about it, okay?”

Keef nods. Xaul hovers over him while the last rivets are drilled in. His finger looks a little swollen.

The rest of us have finished our part. I watch Keef finish the job, his eyes trained on the little metal bits. He’s still fresh, still getting used to the motions, but his hands know when to release the switch. He’s good with them. Must’ve been a technician or scrapper of some sort.

I don’t realize I’m still watching until Jemboc motions for us to lift the thing up. It’s already done.

“Melshi, let’s go!”

I push down some lump in my throat and I nod. We lift up the device and get moving. One more to go. 

Dinner tonight is syrupy sweet, like chocolate. More of a dessert than dinner, I guess. It tastes painfully artificial, only an approximation of what I remember dessert being like. But it’s a nice change of pace. We haven’t been the lead table for some time.

Kino praises us. He means it genuinely. He likes to see good performance; thinks it reflects well on him, too. Today, I don’t have the heart to tell him that it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care about performance. I just want to live and eat and sleep. That’s as much as any of us can hope for.

But as I finish up and prepare to collapse into sleep, I realize I’m feeling better than usual. It was probably the food. Being in first place didn't hurt, either.

The lights dim. The floor goes hot. I turn to get into a sleeping position. I see Keef down there, reclined against his cell wall, looking up ponderingly, and my breath catches a bit.

Wrong on both accounts. It’s him.

It’s true. The new guy’s been interesting. He’s skilled and observant. Plus, most other guys ignore my advice. They go on about how much they’re looking forward to getting out, and it just leads to mistakes. The ones who count down the days inevitably slip up, and suddenly their number’s higher. I’ve seen it happen too many times. I wish it wouldn’t.

Keef hasn't been like that. He listens, quietly, and I can tell there’s something boiling beneath. I could see that yesterday.

Then today, I learned a bit more. He’s concerned about himself, sure, but I learned he’s nice. That might put him in a tough spot one day, if it hasn’t already. But I don’t think that would stop him.

I briefly wonder who he is. What he’s done. I never care about that, but I want to know just for the sake of knowing him.

I ignore that. It’s dark, but the soft red light catches in his eyes and I know he sees I’m watching.

I let this feeling hang in the air for a bit, whatever it is. I look away first. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. There’s only the buzzing of the floor and the chorus of familiar breathing. Some guy down the row starts to talk, and another one tells him to pipe down. It goes quiet. It keeps going quiet.

Nothing I could say would change anything about my circumstances. Not here.

I just lie down. Have to stay on schedule. I think I hear a “Goodnight” from the man across the floor, but it could’ve been my imagination.

I take longer to go to sleep, but eventually, I do. 

Then it’s the same routine again. And again. I can't know when it ends.

I still don’t look at the number. I never do. But I find myself looking forward to the new day a little more.

#sorry this is late i got carried away #andorappreciation2023 #ruescott melshi #melshi x cassian #melshian #fic tag

[violetrainbow412-blog]

The jacket [R. T]

Roger Taylor x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

summary: by chance you find just what you wanted at a stall in Kensington market… but some problems arise

A/N: I got a little (a lot) obsessed with the story of Queen and especially Roger, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Tell me if you like it!

It was a cold, cloudy day, like most days in London, and you were walking in the direction of a sign posted on a building; Kensington market. You had earned a little extra money at work, so you planned to spend it all on quirky, colorful clothes like the ones they sold out there.

The place was huge so when you walked in you didn’t even know where to start. Each time you were filling more and more the backpack that you had carried with clothes of all kinds and you were happy to find cheap things that would work for you. 

You were walking down an aisle quite distracted with clothes hanging on top of the stalls and almost like a miracle your eyes found it. It was an absolutely gorgeous jacket, just like the one you’ve been wanting for months, so you practically rushed over to the booth to touch it with your hands. 

It was soft, brown in color, and with plush fabric that felt soft to the touch.

“Good morning, miss” you heard someone say in front of you. You had been so focused on the piece of clothing that you didn’t notice the man. 

You were silent for a second, taken aback by the way he looked: golden hair, bright blue eyes, and white skin that looked neat. His features were delicate and he was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt.

“Huh… hi,” you said, feeling shy all of a sudden. 

He was very handsome and that intimidated you, but the sweet smile he offered you afterward eliminated that feeling almost completely.

“Do you like that? It belonged to the countess from a distant country, she used to wear it to go out for a walk on cold mornings and it was her favorite, but one day she had a fight with her lover and he got rid of the garment out of spite. 

It is a unique piece of its kind” he told you. Your first instinct was to furrow your brows in confusion, wondering if he was really telling you the truth or just making you look like a fool, but then you thought it was just a story he had built up on the fly to make the deal more interesting. That made you smile a little. 

“How surprising. It must have cost a fortune if it belonged to royalty.”

“Oh, of course. But I can give you a special price and it will be yours for the ridiculous amount of 20 pounds” by this point it was obvious that he had made the story up, but you were surprised to hear the price. It was a little more expensive than what you had spent on other clothes, but you couldn’t deny that you were captivated from the beginning and it would be a crime not to take home that jacket “What do you say?” he asked noticing your silence. When your eyes met his, you felt nervous again.

“It’s more than I expected,” you said sincerely “But I admit that this is beautiful. So that’s fine, I’ll pay for it” you exclaimed as your eyes lit up.

“Smart girl,” he complimented you, smiling at you again. You could tell that he was a charismatic guy “I’m Roger, do you have a name?”

“Y/N”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he murmured and for the first time you burst out laughing.

“How original,” you said sarcastically. That was one of the most cliché phrases you had ever heard in your life, but even with that you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m serious. It’s cute” he insisted. How old was that boy? He looked young, but the only thing that terrified you was that he was so much younger than you. You wondered if he sold clothes for a living or had a real job or if he was studying at some university or if he had a girlfriend. You weren’t attracted to all the men who passed before your eyes, but this one in particular had something that had captivated you a little. A bit embarrassed, you handed him a bill which he exchanged for the jacket. “Do you need a bag for that?”

“No, I’ll use it now” you answered and fulfilled what was said. He let out a low whistle.

“Looks Good. It was a great purchase,” he said. It was probably routine with all the customers so they would be satisfied with what they just bought, but you didn’t care.

“Thank you, have a nice day” you murmured as you took your things to continue with the walk.

“Have a wonderful day too. Whenever you want to come back, I’ll be waiting for you” he politely said goodbye. Again you thought that it was something he said to all the buyers and at this you showed him a grateful smile.

You thought that after walking through a few more stalls and not liking anything, it was best to go home. You could put on the TV for a while, make tea, and enjoy a lazy Sunday. 

You were wandering down the long corridor in thought until something interrupted your thoughts and made you let out a shriek.

It was that boy again.

“Hey” he exhaled agitatedly. He looked like he had run and his cheeks were flushed as he looked at you.

“Hello,” you said confused. His hand was on your bicep, but he only held it there for just a moment and then fell back to his side.

“Listen, I’m… I’m really embarrassed, but I need the jacket back,” he mumbled, but all he managed to do was deepen your frown, so he thought he’d better speak again “It wasn’t for sale, my partner left it there and that’s why I thought it was, but… it’s important and I’m probably going to end up dead if I don’t take it” he explained. You could have told him no and you would have every right, of course, since the mistake had been his, but he sounded so desperate and sincere that you felt bad for him. Maybe the universe was trying hard because you didn’t get it.

“I thought he belonged to a countess” you joked without much encouragement. He laughed nervously and was overjoyed when he saw that you had started to take it off.

“It’s more like a queen” he snorted and you instantly understood why his urge to get it back; it belonged to his girlfriend. You were going to give it to him when a doubt invaded you.

“You’re going to give me my money back, right?”

“Yes! Of course I will” he hastened to reply “And I’ll give you whatever you want from the position as compensation, I’m really sorry”

“Oh, it’s not necessary”

“I insist,” he said with determination “If you want you can accompany me for your money and so you choose something, does it sound good?” 

he asked with a smile. Either way you had to tag along for the money and you thought the idea of getting something for free sounded too tentative.

After you nodded your head, the two of you began to walk in silence, but it didn’t take you more than a few minutes to reach the place. 

You had expected to see a pretty girl, but in her place was a man with long hair and a furious expression.

“You are an idiot, Roger”

“I already told you I didn’t know! It’s your fault for just leaving it there” he defended himself. 

Apparently the opposite hadn’t noticed your presence and when he did his expression softened considerably.

“Sorry what my friend put you through, love,” he apologized, but you waved your hand dismissively. “But at least I have to admit you have good taste,” he continued, making you laugh.

“It’s a really beautiful jacket”

“We have some similar ones back here and there are also some dresses that I think would look perfect on you, what kind of clothes do you like to wear? Because an A-line skirt would really flatter you,” he started to say, pulling you inside and causing you to lose sight of the blonde. He had an impeccable fashion sense and for a moment you wondered if he was a... gay man. To be honest it wasn't something that bothered you, but many people considered it a mental disorder and a sin. Then you also wondered if the blond in front of the stall was that boy’s boyfriend “My name it’s Freddie, by the way”

“I’m Y/N”

“Nice to meet you. Usually it’s Roger who gets the attention of the nice girls, but now he’s too embarrassed with you to do anything” he sneered. You didn’t expect that and you were surprised, but with that sentence you had confirmed that the blond liked girls, with the possibility that you were one of them “Do you like this dress? It’s an antique, but if you pin it here and take off the sleeve it’ll look wonderful,” he continued. You weren’t planning on staying that long, but Freddie’s advice was great and you liked the view out there. At some point Roger joined the conversation, possibly getting over his embarrassment, and before long you were having a fantastic time. They were both very charming and friendly.

“Although I liked being with you, I have to go, I still need to buy a couple of things” you expressed embarrassed “But thanks for everything, the advice and that”

“It was a pleasure, you can come back any day you want, we’re here every weekend, right, Roger?” Freddie said gently.

“Sometimes only Freddie is there, I’m going to play”

“Like… in a band?” you asked, slightly interested, hoping not to be reckless.

“Yeah, in a band called Smile” he muttered happily “I play drums”

“Wow” you gestured “And it’s like… ballads and stuff?”

“It’s rock”

“Oh” you sighed again. You wouldn’t have guessed that he would do that, but now that you knew, his style seemed to fit very well. You could imagine him on stage banging on the drums.

“You should hear them one day” Freddie went ahead to say and you looked at him in surprise “You have a show at the Imperial next week, don’t you Rog?”

“Huh-uh,” he said, a little nervous. He didn’t expect Freddie to do that and he was going to make sure he charged him dearly.

“Well, I’ll have to go around there” you replied “If you don’t mind, of course”

“Not at all. The more the merrier, isn’t it?” he laughed. He sounded quite sincere and you eliminated the idea that he would have been made uncomfortable by the idea of you in one of his shows. 

“Well, it’s done” you smiled. You really had to go or you wouldn’t have enough time for the rest of the day “See you later”

“Saturday 8:00 PM at the Imperial, don’t forget it! Have a wonderful week, darling” 

“Goodbye,” said Freddie and Roger respectively. 

Both of them watched you walk down the hall until you were lost in the distance “Fred, may I know why the hell you did that?” Roger yelled, you were barely a safe distance away.

“C’mon! You were dying to invite her” he mocked his friend. Roger was so flushed that he looked like a ripe tomato “And I’ve never seen you be shy around women”

“But I sold him a jacket that I later took from him”

“And we gave her an item of clothing and my priceless fashion tips. I think that makes up for it” he continued, at his calmest for the matter “Besides you owe me this”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll ever get a chance to embarrass you again for almost losing my precious, so I decided to do it now,” Freddie muttered, shrugging softly, as he arranged a few china figurines they were selling.

“You are the worst”

“When you’re making out with her behind your car, you’re going to thank me,” he assured him. Roger grunted and then laughed as he gently shook his head. As much as he wanted to deny it, he felt a little happy at the thought of seeing you again.

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