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daykinking · 1 day

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Brenna Lancaster - Introduction

[ Here's a written introduction to some of my intox OCs! A literal introduction. Was going to continue to write Brenna being all fucked up in church, but I just want to post already and I think 3.5k is enough for this sort of thing! Feel free to use my world or my characters as inspiration. ]

Brenna had started her day vibrating with excitement at 7am. It was her birthday, and she could finally drink.

Having grown up with somewhat of a helicopter mother, Brenna never had the inclination that she would be allowed a big bash for her and all her friends to get wasted. She would just have to wait until she moved out for that kind of fun.

Today was also Sunday. Usually she would still be asleep for another hour, but today, for her birthday, her parents were going to take her to the Waffle Factory for breakfast.

She had spent hours the night before planning out her outfit. Something subtly sexy that her parents wouldn't say was inappropriate for church. While she knew a plain black spaghetti strap would catch stink-eye from her mother, throwing a short jean jacket over the top would make it imperceptible, and then she could just take it off at church.

By the time her parents had awoken at 7:45 she was already done with her makeup and hair, and was sat on the living room sofa bouncing her leg rapidly.

"Good morniiiing!" she sang. "Ready to go?"

Her tired mother, Scheirre, put on her usual fake plastic smile, eyes closed so you couldn't read them, and said in an ultra-cheery, nearly infantilizing voice, "Ooh boy, someone's excited for breakfast, huh!"

"Excited for something," muttered her father Dylan as he miss-buttoned his gray flannel. "Can you wait 20 minutes honey?"

"Okay!" Brenna said, head heart and stomach twisting in anticipation. As the time moved by at a snail's pace, she opened Tumblr to distract herself, engaging with all the happy birthday asks and notifications. Some of her kink friends asked if she was drinking already. "Not yet, ugh, my parents won't hurry the fuck up. I want mimosas!"

"Are you going to go to church wasted?"

"I'm tryingggggguhhhhh!!"

Just the thought of sipping from a champagne glass in public made Brenna blush and squirm. Sure it'll be a little awkward with her parents there, but maybe they'll have a cute waiter.

---

The Waffle Factory was located on the west end of the mall, with an outdoor patio featuring cool-looking gas-powered fire pits. There was a bar outside as well.

Once indoors, there were 2 other groups ahead of them at the host stand. Brenna took this opportunity to excuse herself outside to vape.

The second she was back outside she made a beeline for the bar, whipping out her ID and slapping it down with a grin. The bartender, dark roots growing out under his bleach-yellow hair, turned his piercing blue eyes to the girl. He was easily six feet tall and very lanky, with only a smattering of tattoos on his arms, all weird lines and symbols. His white shirt hung loosely to his fatless form, hands of a skeleton wiping down the bartop with a rag. "How can I help you, miss?"

"I'd like a mimosa please!"

"Of course," he said, swooping up her ID. "Well happy birthday!"

"Thank you!" she cheesed, accepting the drink from him and taking a gleeful sip. She spied on the front door, taking a few more drinks. "Um...would you mind making this a little stronger?"

Without missing a beat, he topped off her glass with champagne. "Is this all going on your table's tab?"

Reflexively going to say "Yes," she stopped herself, realizing the talking-to she'd be in for if her parents knew how much she was about to spend on alcohol. "No, you can keep this card on file for me."

"I see." He accepted the card and opened a tab as she downed the rest of the mimosa. "Thank you!" Running up to the front door, she peeked in, seeing that her parents were still in line behind the other family.

"Actually can you pour me one more really quick?"

He smirked. "Sure thing, doll."

---

When she went back in to wait with her parents, Brenna felt wide-awake and alert. She knew the alcohol wasn't working quite yet, but it was still making her feel high just to think about how she was going to feel soon. Suddenly she tasted the champagne on her breath and felt a little self-conscious. Maybe it would kick in quicker since she hadn't eaten yet.

"Brenna," Scheirre said in a tone one would call to a dog, and snapped casually as she and Dylan followed the host to their booth. Brenna realized she'd been spacing out, glancing around as she followed as if she could see who could tell she had just drank.

No sooner had the host said "I'll be right back with your waters" than their server came up to the table.

"Salutations, my fine folks, my name is Axel and I will be your maitre-dee this morning. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

"Aren't you the bartender that was outside?" Dylan asked.

"Affirmative," said Axel with a slight bow at the waist.

Dylan rolled his eyes hard, trying not to outwardly cringe at this dude. "The wife and I are going to just stick with the waters." He gave a look to Brenna. "And it's our daughter's birthday today,"

"Happy birthday." "Thank you!"

"--so she's going to have her very first drink. Brenna, tell the nice man what you'd like."

She smiled sheepishly to the waiter, knowing they shared a secret. "I'd like a mimosa, please!"

Scheirre made a faux-scandalized face, reaching over to give her embarrassed daughter an awkward one-armed hug.

---

By the time Brenna had finished her glass, their food was already out. A mountain of waffles stood before her, covered in berries, syrup, and whipped cream. "Holy shit."

"Brenna!"

"Oops. Sorry." Her cheeks flushed red. Those words had kind of just come out on their own.

"Thank you very much," said Dylan to the server as he accepted his egg whites and arugula with chia seeds or whatever. Sheirre had ordered a plate of meat with a side of meat and some eggs, including the yolks from Dylan's whites.

"My deepest pleasure," said Axel with another bow. "Is there anything else you need? More drinks?"

"Just water again," Scheirre said without looking up.

"I'd like a coffee."

"And for the guest of honor?" he said, turning to Brenna. She felt her eyes vibrate. About to order another mimosa, she quickly calculated that her parents would get on her case.

"Orange juice please..."

"Of course." He flipped his little notepad shut, gave a bow once more, and left. Dylan muttered something about "smarmy weirdo."

The waffles were fantastic, but Brenna already regretted not ordering more alcohol. She didn't know when she was gonna get away with this again. She didn't drive; she didn't have any friends who drove. The nearest liquor store to the house was a 30 minute walk.

The restaurant around them was quite loud. Between bites as Brenna looked around, she was pretty excited to notice the slight drag in her vision. The lights left brief little tails like tadpoles, and all the colors in the room seemed brighter. This was Brenna's third time getting tipsy. But the first time outside of her bedroom.

As she took in the scenery she started smiling kind of stupidly, slightly agape, braces peeking out. Muted canned lights lit the place and the checkerboard walls were plastered with very talented artists' renditions of famous album covers reimagined with breakfast foods. Including actual non-parody album covers, like Flat As A Pancake, Whipped Cream and Other Delights, Viva Les Crepes, none of which Brenna recognized.

As she took a bite of her side of bacon Brenna noticed her skin felt a little numb. The drunken dullness of sense of touch had set in. She tried to keep her smile to herself as she crunched numbly on the bacon, taking only the best flavors from it.

Before long Axel had come back with the orange juice. She made sure to meet his eyes when she thanked him, hoping she looked doe-eyed enough. From his perspective she certainly did; her pupils were, as one might say, the size of the moon.

As she took a sip from the off-clear dappled plastic restaurant cup, she noticed...carbonation. She didn't feel it until it hit the tender flesh of her inner lip, and she was confused, so she took another sip.

Unable to differentiate between the taste of champagne already clinging to her tongue, or champagne in the cup, Brenna reasoned that it must just be really acidic juice, because it would have been odd and also a miracle if Axel had made her a mimosa in a plastic cup.

She washed down the second-to-last waffle with the rest of the drink, hitting her chest and releasing a loud belch.

"Brenna Nicole Lancaster!" Schierre shrieked.

"I'm sorry--"

"That wasn't ladylike, dear," said Dylan, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry!" She couldn't help but giggle, suppressing a second smaller burp and covering her mouth this time. "I didn't know it would be that loud."

"Honey."

"What?" she asked her mom, carefully trying to cut a bite out of her last waffle.

"Honey." It was a command. She wasn't obeying. "Look at me," she said sternly.

"Mm?" She locked eyes with her, or tried to. Fuck. Fuck. She had to keep refocusing. Oh fuck.

Scheirre's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"I--w--I don't know, it's my first drink," she said, eyes darting around the pop art in the room.

"Did you get drunk before we left?"

"Wh--how would I do that? No!"

"Babe," Dylan said calmly to his wife, "maybe she's just a lightweight."

Scheirre raised her pale eyebrows over her green eyes, folding her freckled arms across each other as a curly red lock tumbled over her shoulder. "Our daughter's a lightweight, huh?"

"Okay. Calm down."

Brenna busied herself with the waffle, wanting so badly to talk to the horny people in her phone. But her mom was already being kind of controlling; for sure she'd snatch that phone right out of her hands again and try to look through it.

Right then, her savior came along. "Can I refill that for you?"

"Yes please!" she said, searching for his eyes again and beaming her gratefulness into his brain. He smiled back at her, then turned to Dylan. "Can I refill your coffee, sir?"

"Actually, I hate to say this...this basically tastes like water to me."

"Oh, so sorry, sir." He nodded, taking a step backward and catching Brenna's eye, holding it. "Should I make that stronger for you?"

"What? Of c--yes. Please," Dylan responded curtly.

Brenna gave him a secret thumbs up under the table. He winked at her quickly, bowed slightly, and left.

While waiting for her extra-extra mimosa, Brenna kicked her feet, pushing around the eggs left over in the syrup on her plate and taking a few bites here and there.

She felt the urge to burp again, but suppressed it as best she could. It worked...but then the bubbling in her chest turned into something else. She opened her mouth to ask for a sip of her mom's water, and instantly hiccupped, very hard. "Ough..."

Schierre stared hard at her, judging. Dylan silently passed the water cup over to her without looking.

"Thank yo--HIC--u...Ow."

Oh god, this was embarrassing. She was kind of regretting getting so drunk in front of her parents. Now she was gonna have to be in the car with them...

Thankfully her next cup of juice was here. She took maybe too eager of a drink. Braced for the carbonation, Brenna was suddenly hit with a sharp burn, instantly hacking a cough as she slapped the drink down to keep from spilling it. She pulled back from the table and spluttered, hoping that cute waiter wasn't looking. (He was.) Was that fucking...vodka?! (It was.)

"I thing I drang that too fas'" she said, alcohol stinging her sinuses. Upon taking a deep breath she hiccupped again, face bright red as ever, as she wiped drool from her chin.

She couldn't look her parents in the eyes, but she did need to finish her plate, and her screwdriver.

By the end of the meal, waiting on their check, Brenna found herself spacing out a lot, trying to feign conversation with her parents. Were she a little more sober, it might have been obvious to her that they were onto her.

Brenna waited to the car to announce that she really, really badly had to pee, and she couldn't hold it til church. She did this because she knew her parents wouldn't be willing to go back inside with her. Her dad handed her a 10. "Why don't you get yourself some coffee while you're in there."

"Thanks!" she said, not looking into it beyond another birthday gift. "Be right back."

Hopping back out of the car, Brenna stumbled a little, catching herself before colliding with the car parked next to them. She basically skipped inside the mall, feeling like she was swimming through the air as the colors of the parking lot swirled around her.

Brenna had been waiting to come to this mall for a long time. Her Tiktok feed was full of videos of people having the time of their lives, getting drunk and high as heaven. So despite never having been here before, she knew the Barbucks would be just to the left outside of Boredsom.

It never even crossed Brenna's mind but Dylan had wanted her to get coffee to sober up. It didn't cross Dylan's mind but they also serve alcohol at this particular coffee shop.

Time dilated as she stood in line, anxious that she was getting more sober by the second (she wasn't). Senses dulled, she could vaguely hear a group of very chatty women coming right toward her, but nothing registered until she was backed into by a 6-foot goddess of a woman. She knocked her right into the mall employee in line ahead of her. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" both Brenna and the woman who ran into her said at the same time. The employee Brenna had bumped into just giggled, twiddling one of her long, stick-straight pigtails.

"S'no worries," she said, smiling with her eyes closed.

"Hi, Claire," said the barista, "Grande mudslide?"

"Venti please?" she said with a sway.

The two chatted a while, or rather, Claire rambled to the barista while the order was rung in.

"I'm Stella," said the woman behind Brenna. "This is Cat," she said, revealing a much shorter and smaller woman with soft lavender-colored hair and big doe eyes.

"Hi! Sorry, we're super obnoxious," Cat apologized.

"It's okay. I'm Brenna."

"Brenna! I love that!" Cat cooed. She was wrapped tightly around Stella's waist. Brenna's eyeline came right to Stella's chest, which was impossible not to notice. She was wrapped tightly in a very short, strapless, ruched tube dress of gold tissue lame, the sort that looks trashy on almost any person in the entire world. She was pulling it off. Rather, filling it out. It made the gladiator flats work. She had a lot of artificially-blonde hair, stiff and wavy, pulled up in two half-pigtails on either side, an emulation of a lion's mane. The red gloss on her plumped lips was mesmerizing.

"I haven't seen you around," she said. "Have you been here before?"

"No, actually, it's...it's my birthday," Brenna replied, barely able to contain her excitement.

"OH MY GOD NO WAY!" The two women burst into celebration, a mixture of shouting and squealing. "Star!" Stella said to the girl behind the counter, "Whatever Brenna orders is on me."

"Oh my gosh, that's so sweet of you, you don't have to do that."

Stella waved a dismissive hand and nodded to Star, who then looked to Brenna.

"Oh, uh...I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at the menu..."

"You like sweet stuff, don't you," Cat said, clocking her instantly. "Get her a Bailey's slushy."

"Ooh, great choice."

Brenna thanked them all and stepped to the side to wait for her order. Clearly Stella and Cat knew this mall very well, and the workers here. Stella's voice was very loud, and also very slurred, so it was hard to make out what she was saying but you could tell she was having a good time. The two came over to wait with her, standing at the little tall table.

"So you're celebrating your birthday here?" Stella asked, a bright blush coming through under the freckling on her face. The table creaked every once in a while as she swayed.

"Uh, well, not really. My parents brought me here for breakfast and now we're going to church..."

"To church!"

"Ew," said Cat, reflexively. "Sorry. No offense."

"We gotta get you fuckin' loaded," said Stella. "Are your parents just waiting in the car?"

"Yeah..."

"You like weed?"

Brenna's eyes widened in shock. She had smoked a couple of bowls before, at a party. "Yeah!" She wasn't prepared for Stella to whip out a dab pen.

It was simple and pink, a small battery that could fit almost anywhere. Stella unscrewed the cartridge that was on it and replaced it with a fresh one. "Hit this til they call your order."

"Wh--okay!" Brenna was almost uncomfortably turned on. She did as she was told and hit the pen, maybe a little too hard right off the bat, and immediately went into a coughing fit. Her head swirled with the alcohol and the new substance, and it took her a while to notice Stella's laughter.

"You come back to life yet?"

"Mm-mmhmm..." Brenna wiped some drool from her chin. Her head began to feel lighter, but her throat was fucked.

"Okay good, hit it again."

Looking up to meet Stella's eyes, Brenna shivered under her challenging gaze. Maintaining eye contact she hit the pen again obediently. She tried to suppress the coughing, and she didn't hit it as hard.

"Good girl, you're learning!"

Time dilated even more now. Everything around Brenna felt disconnected, like she and her new friends were on one plane, the Barbucks was on another, and her parents were on another planet.

"My parents! How long have I been in here?"

Cat giggled, gently stroking Brenna's back. "It's okay, sweetie, you're just high. Your coffee hasn't even come yet."

"Oh...right." Brenna took a deep breath of oxygen, allowing the sounds of the crowd to blend the world back together. The lights were so pretty. All the potted plants...wow. How pervasive is nature, that even inside the concrete jungle--

"Take another hit, cutie," Stella murmured across the table. Eyes fixated on the pothos crawling up a potted palm tree, Brenna obeyed.

Everything was engulfed in a soft cloud. Brenna's brain included. When her name was finally called and made its way to her through the fog, she realized she had been leaning in a very awkward position against the potted flowers behind her.

Though she was looking directly ahead of her at the coffee bar (okay, maybe a little slanted), the second Brenna took a step she began careening to the left. Her feet crossed themselves over each other and she slapped against the floor. "Oof!"

"Oh shit."

She was scooped up, body ragdolling along as Stella and Cat helped her walk to the counter. They took their hands off her as she grabbed for the drink, missing at first.

Brenna felt like a bobblehead as she turned carefully. The other two flanked her for a bit, and she wordlessly nodded toward the exit door. They walked her down the short hallway to where it was more quiet.

"You can walk okay, right?" said Stella. "I kind of feel bad for pressuring you like that."

"Nn-no, itw- was. Yes." Brenna used her left hand to help her right hand form a thumbs up, to show she was okay with this. The weed had rendered her unable to form sentences. "Thank." Suddenly perplexed, she pantomimed texting.

"Oh!"

Cat swiped Brenna's phone from her back pocket, held Brenna's finger to the sensor, and started putting in her and Stella's numbers.

Brenna tried to hand the pen back to Stella, confused why it kept moving. And why it was so heavy.

"No, keep it," she said. "Happy birthday!" She held up her cold brew sangria, and Cat joined the cheers with her dalgona martini. Brenna knocked her paper coffee cup against theirs, delighted to remember there was booze inside of it. The three of them took a hefty drink, and suddenly both Stella and Cat also had weed pens. They cheersed with the pens, and Brenna eagerly took way too big of a hit.

After another fit of coughing, having to collapse against the wall for a bit, and getting rubbed on by some beautiful ladies, Brenna staggered toward the exit door, confident her parents wouldn't suspect a thing. She stepped out into the parking lot and stared at the skyline.

"Brenna. Brenna."

Oh, that's right. They were parked right out front. Hastily she pocketed the pen.

Taking a deep breath, Brenna willed herself to walk a straight line to the car, accidentally stumbling into it at the last minute. Her parents ignored this.

As she sat in the back seat she sipped on her spiked coffee, not a thought in her head. The christian radio station was playing, and for once in her life, Brenna felt close to god.

#intox fantasy #oc #brenna #intox kink #alcohol intox #intoxication kink #alcohol #drunk #crossfaded #intox #forced intox

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smolwritingchick · 2 days

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Just Another Smol Preview :)

Author's Note: Literally a smol preview of the beginning of the MAMA Awards 2016 chapter. Always brainstorming and switching it up so the final product may vary.

I have been thinking a lot of this idea that I have for the MAMA Awards chapter and I'm excited to write about it and see it come to life.

Like I addressed before after MAMA Awards 2016 in the story, this should be the last time I write about Hyuna. This idea came up recently and I rolled with it. I also find myself getting this chapter done faster than anticipated so I am aiming to try to get it out in June and not later than that along with the 3rd Muster chapter. Hopefully not late June.

-----------

'BREAKING! MAMA 2016 Collaboration with Cube's Hyuna and Big Hit's Jennie scrapped!'

Jennie frowned at the article as she sat by her desk in the Smartie Factory. It was crazy how things abruptly changed. Lately, Jennie and Hyuna weren't on speaking terms and issues have been occurring for a while.

It all started with the sneak dissing that Jennie had found out on her Tumblr. She loved scrolling through the tag of her name and came across a fairly popular post regarding Hyuna attending a few variety shows and interviews.

Statements such as, "Unlike the others, I don't need to repeatedly say I'm the best from head to toe. You already see it," which ARMY thought about Jennie's War of Hormone lyrics.

"Some rookies can be a bit much and try to overshine a veteran,"

"Some girls in this industry are a bit too fragile. I don't need to call myself bulletproof,"

"You mean the original version of How's This,"

Were just a handful of statements and ARMY immediately speculated she was throwing shade at Jennie.

'Uhhhh did Hyuna just sneak diss, Jennie? Am I freaking out over nothing? That bulletproof and glass line was SUS,' one comment said.

ARMY went on to do more research and they immediately figured out that there was some sort of animosity in Hyuna's words and it caused confusion in the fandom.

"The hell...?" Miss Bangtan murmured as she read about it and even saw her and Hyuna trending on Twitter.

Her stomach dropped and she felt hurt by the words. It confused her as to why she would say these things. Deciding to go straight to the source, she messaged Hyuna on KakaoTalk.

Jen: Ummmm what's going on sis? We got a problem or something? If so let's address it now. Call me when you're free

But hours later, still no reply. What officially solidified the fact there was an issue going on was when Jennie facetimed Hayoon about it.

"I'm trying to contact her so we can settle this shit now instead of over the internet. But I haven't gotten a response. I don't know how this happened. I didn't even do anything. I know we haven't talked in a while, but damn,"

And that was when Hayoon informed her what was going on from what she heard. She and other people have been overhearing her talking about how upset she was that she would be sharing the stage with Jennie for How's This. She wanted to perform it alone and on top of that felt bothered by the fact that the duet music video with Jennie started to get way more views than the original video.

"I mean it got more views because ARMY loves to support every member of Bangtan. They were bound to have the views boost," Jennie exclaimed on Facetime while Hayoon nodded. "That's one of the amazing things about them. They watched that video for me and I'm grateful but damn, is it that deep? So, she doesn't want to share the stage with me and is feeling some type of the way that her original music video didn't have that many views? Ma'am, if that was a problem, instead of throwing shots, why not talk to me face to face and express yourself? All this childishness for what?"

"I know. It's ridiculous," Hayoon said with a frown. "I had to distance myself from her. I didn't like the things she was saying. And I even talked to her about it but she blew me off and said she didn't care,"

Jennie sighed and shook her head. "Annoying...thanks for telling me...wow...the switch up is crazy...I just don't understand,"

"Of course. Still no reply?"

Jennie went to check back on the app and scoffed. "Did this bitch block me?!"

"What?! No way!"

"Wowwww. So, it's like that? Okay. I can't even contact her anymore...this is making me start to have trust issues a little bit. Like we were so close and would hang out and talk often and I trusted her with a lot of shit...I hope she doesn't spill anything personal. Because now I'm thinking about my relationship,"

"As much as I dislike her attitude, I don't think she'll spill anything especially when she is dating E'Dawn privately,"

"Yeah...I'm not going to air her dirty laundry and talk about how she got a rookie boyfriend and shit. That's unfair to E'dawn and his future career as an idol,"

"Agreed. No need to get him involved. I believe she won't involve Jungkook as well, so no need to worry,"

Jennie sighed. "When I see her at one of these award shows I'll confront her. This is ridiculous,"

"Some kind of girl's girl she is. So close to award season, too? She should not be trying to paint you as this bad person,"

"Yeah...I just don't know how long it's going to take for the public to understand how grimy she is,"

As the news of her performance with Hyuna wasn't happening anymore, Cube Entertainment and even Mnet made the excuse that they felt like Jennie was not ready to perform with Hyuna and was a bit difficult to work with. Which was a load of bull and lots of fans saw through the BS. However, Big Hit responded in defense to her saying that she was ready, she was very easy to work with and it was their loss on the collaboration.

It warmed her heart to see the company come to her defense and say she would prove doubters wrong on BTS' stage at the MAMA Awards. Hearing the news that the collaboration was scrapped made her feel down since she had been so excited to perform with someone she looked up to for many years. G-Dragon's words still rang through her mind that not everyone is your friend in the industry and the switch ups be crazy.

Now back to reality, Jennie continued to sit by her desk, deep in thought about the situation. All she wanted to do was speak to her like an adult and squash whatever issue she had with her. But with her being blocked, it was clear she wanted nothing to do with Jennie.

It had been days since the first set of disses, along with lyric changes to throw shots at her and the lack of response from Jennie had everyone talking.

People commented:

'Unbothered. I like that,'

'Hyuna cooked you!'

'Everything she said about Jennie was true,'

'Rookie! Hyuna is better than you!'

'So, are you going to respond to HyunA?'

'Damn, still no response?'

'Jennie is known for her impressive stage presence at MAMA. They could have been a powerful duo if egos didn't get in the way. Something ain't right,'

'LOL Hyuna won by default. She is taking forever to respond. Is she scared?'

'Get in the booth, Jennie. Or are you taking the L?'

'So, you just gonna let her talk shit about you like that?'

'Jennie doesn't have to respond to anything.'

'I hate how you guys are instigating this drama.'

'No response is a response, Jennie!'

'Does Miss Bangtan need her bulletproof boy scouts to help her with this one?'

'I bet Jennie is the problem. Because she and Hyuna were great friends and she must have done something wrong...'

'Time to stop hiding behind your boys, woman up and respond to your senior.'

'Respect queen Hyuna!'

'You should be lucky she even asked you to collaborate.'

'ARMY gets on my nerves. They like to spam and stream everything for bragging rights. That music video didn't deserve to get higher views than the OG!'

'Yikes...going after one of the chillest people in the K-Pop industry is not wise because if Jennie responds I bet not hear shit that she was disrespectful when Hyuna started this first. And don't try to say respect your seniors.'

'Y'all are a little too comfortable being rude to Jennie on her page...'

'Hyuna started it and Jen will finish it. Watch!'

'Hyuna is being a bit too bold running her mouth.'

'Of all people when you have Bangtan backing her? And other idols who are close friends with her? I don't understand the logic.'

'Hyuna is untouchable in the industry, no idols will come to her aid,'

'I doubt any idol will defend Jennie from Hyuna. She should handle this herself.'

'Bangtan shouldn't always have to fight her battles. She should handle this by herself,'

'Jennie handles business. She'll respond,'

Still, on social media, she saw herself getting tagged in a lot of Hyuna stuff. Come to find out she was still sneak dissing and her stans were eating it up and defending her. However, ARMY was not too happy about the abrupt attitude change and shade thrown at Miss Bangtan.

"Do you want me to say something?" Yoongi asked, who sat next to her, ready to defend her honor.

"Yoongi...no," she firmly said as she turned to him.

"The situation is so grimy. Like damn, the bitch can't share the stage with you on her song that she wanted you to be on in the first place? Why bother asking to collab?" Angelina spoke up, sitting on the couch with Namjoon. "Did she think it wasn't going to go well? She underestimated the power of ARMY's support and your talent as an artist. Those comments on that YouTube video were mainly about you, Jennie. You outshined her in the music video and she was mad about it and has been holding it in for a while. The bitch is jealous,"

"I'm just confused and thrown off by everything. Like I thought we were friends—"

"Well, she's not your friend," Angelina firmly cut Jennie off, getting upset about Hyuna. "A friend doesn't sneak diss. Fuck her,"

"Are you going to let her just bash your name like this in public?" Namjoon asked.

"She is South Korea's IT girl. Everyone loves her. And if I respond...I have a feeling I'll be public enemy number one. You know how the media is gonna twist this and make me the bad guy," Jennie reminded.

"Jen, I love your calmness, right now because you know I'll be ready to fight somebody," Angelina added. "I wish I had your calmness. But stop being nice,"

"I'm not trying to be! I'm not! I'm getting annoyed, now..." she sighed out of frustration.

"Good. Write about it,"

"Listen, I shouldn't cause Bangtan any drama. Award season is coming up...I can't be taking the attention off of us at the award shows. Like I don't even want to be involved in this drama...why can't I just have some genuine celebrity friends, that won't get mad over petty shit, like this? I'm getting PTSD from Hailey and that took a while to heal from,"

"Munchkin, you're not causing drama for us," Hobi spoke up as he leaned against the wall, next to the couch. "I know you're thinking of the negatives but the positives outweigh it. You should respond,"

"And you know that people love you, too. She is not the only beloved K-Pop idol, in the world. You've been making a positive name for yourself with us as BTS. ARMY and us will not stand for the slander. I want you to write about it all," Yoongi affirmed.

"Turn this negative into a positive," Namjoon reminded.

"Diss track incoming?" Angelina smiled.

Jennie let the rappers' words sink in as she glanced at all of them. They had a point. She couldn't just let her bash her name like this out of nowhere. On top of that, she didn't want to hear anything about being respectful to her seniors when she was getting disrespected unprovoked. It bothered her how people think they can talk to younger people in any type of way. Respect should be a mutual thing.

"For now, don't bother engaging in the drama on social media. Don't respond to any of it online. Continue to go about your day like normal," Namjoon suggested.

"Yeah...okay. You're right. All of you," she replied. "I really can't let her just get away with talking shit and not saying it directly to my face. Especially when she didn't even want to respond to my messages and blocked me. She needs to get checked,"

"Good. I'm looking forward to this," Hobi smiled.

"You and I both," Yoongi revealed his gummy smile.

Jennie chuckled and turned to Namjoon. "This reminds me a little bit of the Bobby situation and your diss at MAMA 2014. But yours was more of entertainment. Unlike this,"

The leader chuckled at that and nodded. "Yeah. Well, what are you going to do, now?"

"Handle it," she firmly responded and grabbed her notebook.

"Best news I've heard all day. Get writing," Angelina broke out into a big smile, as the others agreed.

"Mama Awards 2016. Speak your truth, there. Let's talk to the staff later about everything," Namjoon recommended.

"Okay," Jennie nodded, liking that idea. "I'll show you what I have when I'm done. Can I be alone, please? To work?"

The boys respected her decision and left her to work while Angelina stayed behind with Namjoon waiting for her outside the studio.

"Word of advice? Try the 8 Mile method. The stealing thunder strategy. You remember the movie and the final rap battle with Eminem?" Angelina asked as she got off the couch.

"Yeah. I've watched it a few times. That's not a bad idea. I'll work on it,"

#smol preview #smol brainstorm #smol update

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fstbmp-a · 1 year

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her power grows by the day... I don't know how long I can contain her.

#My Kingdom ;; OOC #Follow Me ;; Guest Muse #everyone keeps hyping her up on discord #she's getting a big head she's like “I can go on tumblr”#and like honey why would you want this of me i'd have to add another muse to keep it even #and then what? what would you get huh? HUH?!#tumblr isn't ready for you. i'm not ready for you.

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that-student-that-has-homework · 3 months

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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general.

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own?

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves.

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp.

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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fabulouslygaybean · 2 years

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man. things r getting bad again

#just. blegh. im falling into a pit and i don't know how to climb back up.#my healthy coping mechanisms r being replaced by not so healthy ones #i feel deeply lonely and anxious whenever im not with friends #doing homework makes me want to scream and cry and bash my head into the wall #adulthood is getting uncomfortably close and im terrified bc i still feel violently like a teenager #in a year ill have to leave my family and home behind for a lifeless apartment that'll cost more money than i can afford #i go about my life every day knowing my mom doesn't want me anymore because i didn't stay her charming little kid #she loves me but she doesn't like me. ill always be her oldest kid and she loves me because of that but she doesn't like me.#she wanted a perfect smart daughter who'd pass school with straight As and go to college and get a degree in a well paying field and -#- marry a man that she'd stay with for the rest of her perfect life #and all she got was me.#it hurts a lot and i can't do anything to make it stop #im feeling very very impulsive and dangerous tonight so im just gonna try and stay on tumblr until my brain shuts up #ive been saving my last edible to share with a friend but im very tempted to use it tonight because i need my brain to shut up #i also might come out to my brother as trans. maybe cry to him about how terrified i am about life. because im so fucking scared.#he'll know what to say. big brothers somehow always know that stuff.#im so sorry for spilling everything and oversharing here. i needed to get everything out before i break #i need to go and try and calm myself down now. i might be crying and i can't let my mom hear me bc then everything's over for me

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tofixtheshadows · 12 days

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Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

#Dungeon Meshi #Falin Touden #hiiii anon I hope you're still around #I'm sorry I didn't get to this last week but it was a bad brain time and I had to keep coming back to this #can I also apologize for the amount of tangents I nearly went off on here?#musings with Dea #dungeonposting #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #I had to rein myself in a lot because I could have taken like five other points here to expand on #Dea answers #Dea's anonymous friends

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disneyprincemuke · 7 months

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fly on the wall * fem!driver

she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: crashing the car

notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.

his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.

if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for.

her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.

she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.

at first.

it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.

she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.

"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.

"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”

this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium.

with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her.

"like i said. don't think about anything else."

she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.

but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?

“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.

she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.

it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay.

“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”

sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better.

though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems.

“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”

she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”

sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage.

“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events.

she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is.

in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid.

following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for.

“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”

“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare.

the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain.

“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”

“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”

“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”

“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”

“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”

she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”

she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it.

her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.

“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”

she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”

“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”

“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”

“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.

“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”

“you don’t know that.”

sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”

crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.

“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”

“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”

the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”

“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door.

“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre.

“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”

her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her.

“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here.

she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again.

she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by.

he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true.

“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”

lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”

oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”

“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”

lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”

she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #fem!driver #female driver #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fem!driver

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livingemkayde · 6 months

Text

between blurred lines

best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader

(pre-outbreak)

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.

AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞

↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.

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“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. “Let it go,” he repeats.

You grew up with Sarah Miller.

Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend.

It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel.

You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is.

Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—

No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid.

Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town.

“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”

You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is.

“Hey, kid.”

You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting.

“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses.

“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work.

“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”

“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.”

You laugh. “Not your scene?”

“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?”

You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”

“Play along.” He smirks.

A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine.

“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”

“You teachin’?”

“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh.

“Smart girl.”

His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.”

He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb.

“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?”

You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips.

“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”

Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”

You hitch a tough breath.

“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer.

“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.”

“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.

You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller.

She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears.

And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house.

Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club.

Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat.

“Get a shirt from my dads room.”

So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.

When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress.

The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness.

“What’re you doin’?”

You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were.

You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands.

“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.

“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth.

“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you.

“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave.

“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly.

When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk.

Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure.

“Fun night?”

You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”

You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years.

Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink.

He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach.

You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way.

“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.”

Pretty.

He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary.

You didn’t think he would notice.

You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears.

He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel.

So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath.

“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades.

His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate.

You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech.

“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely.

Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again.

“I thought—”

“You thought, what?”

Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you.

“I don’t…”

“You thought this was a good idea?”

You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.

“What would your daddy think?”

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything.

He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.

“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”

His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat.

“‘S one word for it.”

He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”

He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.

“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.

“Let it go,” he repeats.

You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm.

A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans.

It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle.

It feels like heaven.

You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds.

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”

It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough.

Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile.

“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right.

Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—

“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply.

Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.

“How do you want it, baby?”

You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave.

“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight.

“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new.

Pretty.

“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him.

“You’re okay, angel.”

Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him.

“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips.

You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little.

“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”

You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect.

It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less.

“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten.

“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?”

It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello.

“I-I don’t—”

“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”

It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist.

“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside.

“Joel,” you breathe. “I—”

“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.”

So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets.

You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper.

Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice.

“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.”

He picks up the pace.

“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.”

You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."

When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment.

He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect.

Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you.

“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly.

He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back.

“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same.

You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing.

He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body.

The Texans.

“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing.

“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.”

It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.

“Same time next week?”

Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?”

“You can’t answer a question with another question.”

You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again.

“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door.

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hee0soo · 27 days

Text

Bumps and Paws

Pairing — ChoiSanxafab!Reader

Summary — A pregnancy brings many unknown things with itself but what you didn't expect was Byeol becoming this attached...

Genre — fluff, established Realationship, Idol!Au

Warnings — pregnancy, mentions of nausea

Wordcount — 1.2k

Rating — pg-13

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

When you had first met San all those years ago, you hadn't thought much about the future. Still in university and working 2 jobs on the side were enough to keep your mind from wandering that far and going on dates was certainly nothing you wanted to think about while exam season was right around the corner!

You weren't prepared for the bright smiles and cheeky winks the small boy getting coffee for what seemed like an army threw at you and you certainly weren't prepared for being asked out on a hectic day during rush hour that had you stammering a shocked, "Yes?" and the little skip in the boys step as he left the café you worked at only to realize that he didn't have a way to contact you and run back in in panic.

If you were to be honest with yourself, the awkward and still somehow charming boy had managed to break through the chains you had locked your heart with in the span of mere seconds that day. You weren't one to believe in love at the first sight but something that day made you think that maybe it wasn't entirely impossible...

It wasn't always easy. Between his admitting to being a trainee at a small label, long nights of studying, working and barely being able to see each other with his hectic schedule once his group made it's debut and keeping everything a secret, there had been times where you thought letting him go would be for the best. Times where you had told him to move on even if it broke your heart and times where he had looked at you, eyes swimming with tears, telling you that he didn't want to move on without you.

But now, years later, you were settled down. A apartment you shared with the man who had almost grown twice in size compared to back then, a cuddly cat that seemed to love you more then it's original owner, and a baby on the way!

Not what you had dared to think about all those years ago.

While you were ecstatic upon finding out about the little peanut growing inside of you, now, almost 6 months in you were ready to smack your boyfriend for doing this to you! Swollen feet, nausea and cravings that sometimes scared you were only some of the struggles you faced as of now. And that at a state where you still were able to move without do many difficulties.

However the thing that caused you the most stress was the amount of times you had to pee!

Finding a position on your couch that was 100% comfortable proved to be nearly impossible with the little bean seemingly tap dancing on your bladder and sending you on your way to the bathroom only to repeat the process not to long after again.

San found the whole thing incredibly amusing. The pout he received at the hushed giggles causing a flood of kisses to be peppered over your face as you sat there in the living room, dressed in his shirt that seemed much to big even with the bump and a pair of sweatpants that was also his. The TV being completely forgotten as you pretend glared at your bare belly and the cat that had it's nose resting on it. Shirt tucked up and secured under your boobs do make sure it didn't drop while the feline purred against your skin.

"You know, I can already tell that the two of you will be a menace to society if you keep making me pee!" you huffed, hand stroking over Byeols head gently.

San snorted to himself. He had watched and listened for a while from his place next to you while your body melted against his.

Byeol let out a meow as if she disagreed with the statement wholeheartedly. She closed her eyes, purrs vibrating against your belly and enjoying the pets you gave her.

The cat had become somewhat of a shadow ever since you got pregnant I following you around wherever you went. Beit the kitchen where she always managed to convince you do give her a treat, the bed where she usually prefered the presence of your boyfriend or the bathroom where she meowed so loud in front of the door until you caved and let her inside.

You swore that you could see a proud gleam in the animals eyes and that it wasn't just something you imagined!

No matter where you went, Byeol was there too.

Sanfound the new behavior more then hilarious, cooing over his girl guarding his girl. At least until the feline had chosen to turn on him, hissing and batting the offending hand of his away from your / her/ bump. It wasn't serious. Byeol never actively using her claws or teeth to nibble on his hand, but the shock on San's face was more then enough to produce an evil cackle from you.

Her newest antic however you didn't know what do think of. On one side it was cute to see the cat drying to communicate with the peanut growing inside you, on the other hand you really didn't appreciate having your bladder kicked and be played with!

And that's what was happening daily ever since Byeol had understood that whatever had changed in you could kick. It was almost like a game of tag, only that neither the baby nor the cat had any intentions of moving away. Starting with the babys food kicking outwards to be seen from the outside. The poor cat had been so startled that she had fallen of the couch in shock. However once Byeol had gotten used to the movement of your belly, it a nickly developed into said game.

And so you found yourself in your current predicament. Byeol tapping against your stomach with her paw, ce moment of silence, and then a kick from the baby. The two could play like this forever it felt like. At least until a particular hard kickor punch send you running to the bathroom!

"Come on, it's cute! Byeol-ah is just being a good big sister to the little bean. Wantingtoget to know her and play," San chuckled against the side of your head, his hand playing with the strap of your top. "And you can't tell me that you don't think the same."

You hummed quietly. "But do they have to do it on my bladder? I'm way to comfy to get up now..." Scratching Byeols ear you scrunched your nose.

San ever the loving boyfriend kissed your temple. "But where would be the fun in that?"

He leaned over to get closer to your growing belly, his finger tapping against where he had just seen a movement of the skin only to receive an enthusiastic punch as an answer.

You smiled softly.

"Are you being mean to your mommy? Not letting her restin peace, but playing with your sister?" He mumbled against the bump.

A kick from the baby.

A kiss from the proud baby daddy.

And a tap against San's head from Byeol.

"Yah! Byeol-ah! That's my bump! Let me talk to my baby!" San complained, faking insult.

Byeol looked unimpressed and hit him again on the head before purring loudly to rub her head against your stomach.

"I don't think she agrees on that, Sannie."

Sulking he came back up. His mouth suddenly being against yours in a loving kiss.

"I don't care, you and the bean are mine!"

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez #choi san #san #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #san x reader #san x y/n #san x you #choi san imagines #san imagines #ateez imagines #choi san fluff #divider by cafekitsune

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

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smileysuh · 20 days

Text

comfort cuisine - TEASER

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink.

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue.

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday, May 17th, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

taglist is limited, to ensure a tag please reply, reblog with a comment, or reblog, those who do one of those three options will be prioritized when it comes to posting day

I'll do my best to post a link to the fic here as soon as it's on tumblr

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny nct #johnny nct smut #nct johnny smut

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withleeknow · 25 days

Note

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

COULD U POSSIBLY MAKE A MATT FIC BASED OFF OF THIS TIKTOK OR SONG (YOU CAN DECIDE IF U WANT IT TO BE SMUT OR NOT IF U DO MAKE ONE) https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wp5H2t/

🔗

MY OH MY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get into a pickle when you get poured on, but don’t worry… somebody comes to save you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, p in v, ass grabbing, faux sympathy, cum eating (🙈)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,400

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: meant to post earlier but tumblr decided to close the draft without saving as i was proofreading/editing🤣

hope you enjoy @sluttyformatt :)

rain trickles down your hair to your shoes; workout clothes soaked.

you wanted to go on a late-night walk, then suddenly it started pouring out of nowhere. currently, you’re standing under a roof edge, arms crossed while you wait for your ride.

your brother isn’t around to pick you up, so your last resort was his best friend. he’s your brother’s age, who’s two years older than you. he’s known him ever since high school, yet your mother always said matt was a bad influence.

although, you do see where she’s coming from. matt was the type to always get in trouble in school, and overall he’s just a big grump. he’s only been nice to you, your brother, and of course his siblings.

headlights glow down the street, getting closer until the minivan stops in front of you. you quickly head over to it, open the door, and get in on the passenger’s side. “hi matty!” you beam. “thank you so much for picking me up. i didn’t know it was going to rain.”

he looks at you, wearing the leather jacket he’s had for as long as you can remember.

he truly doesn’t understand how you can be so happy no matter what, even if you are drenched in water. “you should’ve checked the weather before you left.” he mumbles, putting the car in drive.

“well, it was sunny all day. i didn’t expect rain. it’s okay, though. it’s like a surprise shower.” you smile, fastening the seatbelt.

“uh oh,” you say, looking through your fanny pack that you have strapped to your stomach.

he sighs, still focusing on the road. “what is it now?”

“i may or may not have left my keys home and locked myself out. nobody’s home.” you lick your teeth. “can i come to your place until my brother picks me up? pretty please, matty?”

“fine.” he inhales sharply. “and stop calling me matty.”

it’s silent as you two sit on the couch. your brother texted you saying he’ll let you know when he’s on his way, but god knows how long that’ll be. (despite it being almost midnight)

matt notices a shiver, taking his eyes off of his phone to look. your hands rub up and down your arms trying to warm up, but the chattering of your teeth indicates that it isn’t helping. “go to my room and grab one of my hoodies and pajama pants. they should be in my dresser.” he says coolly.

you smile. “it’s okay, i can wait. i’m fine.”

“put them on.” he demands. “you’re soaking wet and freezing.”

staring at him, he keeps staring back because of your silence. “go.”

you sigh like a child, getting up from the couch and walking down the hallway into his bedroom.

matt’s clothes are far too big on you, but you do feel warmer and more comfortable. his pants hang low just past your waistline. the hoodie on the other hand is long, causing the sleeves to give you sweater paws.

you sit on the chair he has in the corner, scrolling on your phone. matt can’t help but stand at the doorway, watching you.

not in a creepy way, but the fact you’re wearing his clothes has his dick reacting from the view. the way it’s too big for your body turns him to fuck on.

he cannot feel this way toward you. your his best friend’s sister, for god’s sake. but he can’t help it.

“feel better?”

you get startled by his voice. “yes, thank you.”

“told you so,” he grumbles.

rolling your eyes playfully, you stand up. “i didn’t mean to linger in here. i got distracted.”

as you start to walk by him, he grabs onto your shoulders to stop you. your breath hitches at the feeling of his rings; the way they drag down your arm makes you subconsciously clench your thighs together.

his cologne floods your nostrils, and the way he’s looking at you is different now.

he’s always been a grumpy kid and had a resting bitch face, but now he’s looking at you seductively and with need.

the hand that was on your arm now cups the front of your neck. there’s no pressure, but the fingers with no rings go over your bottom lip.

he sighs sympathetically. “it sucks that you’re off limits. i would so fuck you right now.”

your eyebrows raise high from the sudden courage he had to just blurt that out. however, you smirk.

“if you kiss me.” you shrug. “i might let it happen.”

he groans, leaning down to smash his lips on yours.

still intact, you grab his jacket and pull him in closer, your bodies moving at the same rhythm.

he starts to push you back to where the chair is, turning you 180° so he’s the one sitting in it while you straddle his lap.

your hips grind, rubbing just the right spot on not only you but him also. you smile into the kiss when you feel him hardening beneath you.

tugging at the pants you're wearing, he pulls away. “take these off.”

you shimmy them down your legs as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his bottoms down below his thighs. he grabs your hips to hover you over him, but stops and teases the tip.

you wiggle to get some friction as he smirks. “manners.”

“please.” you whine. “please let me ride your cock. i’m so fucking wet for you.”

matt sinks you slowly onto him, your walls immediately stretching to his size. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”

you mumble something into his chest, bouncing uncontrollably on his dick. your sweater paws ball up on his biceps. your ass slaps repeatedly on his skin, the sound echoing off the walls.

he tuts, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. “why so quiet?”

“stop.” you mewl, nuzzling your face even deeper into his body. your face is hot from embarrassment.

“is somebody embarrassed to be fucking her brother’s best friend? it looks like ms. goody-two-shoes is a little naughty.” he says lowly into your ear, causing you to start whimpering and going even faster.

it doesn’t take long for his tip to brush against the right spot “oh, fuck.” you moan, legs shaking at his sides.

“better not get this chair dirty, otherwise i’ll make you clean it,” he warns, knowing that you can’t control your orgasm.

pouting, you clench hard. of course, your release runs down his thighs and onto the seat. your eyes are glassed over while you look at him, who’s shaking his head. “you’re making a mess.”

somehow so quickly, he lifts you off of him and onto the floor. now, he’s behind you, and your cheek leans against the chair.

he again nudges at your entrance, this time you buck your hips back but he grips them tight. “clean up your mess first.”

he doesn’t ask. he orders while pushing your head down further into the cushion.

obeying, you flick your tongue onto your arousal. normally, you’d find this gross, but you’re so wet and turned on that you’ll listen to whatever he says. his presence feels like you are under a spell.

a sweet and salty taste fall on your tongue, following his instructions to a t.

a hum of approval is heard behind you. he spreads your legs wider, slamming into you with no warning.

you moan loudly, arching as much as you can in this position. “m-matt! shit, matt!” you yelp.

he grunts, taking in how well your pussy feels engulfing him.

tears threaten to spill from your eyes once they roll back, moaning loud and clear when your g-spot gets abused already.

strings of curses leave your lips, the way he’s balls deep inside of you right now have you quiver a lot. “you feel—” you pause, licking your lips and shutting your eyes tight. “so good. like… holy fucking god.”

he chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder to drill into you harder. before you even know that it’s happening, you cum for the second time, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.

a deep breath later, matt makes sure to pull out and paint your back white.

“you can keep the clothes.” he says, jiggling your ass to play with it. “so you can wear them the next time i fuck you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog

#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

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farmerstarter · 2 months

Note

Hi!! Could you do Sam HCs? It can be literally anything. I just love him so much :)

ʚ🛹ɞ ˚ · . Random Sam Headcanons

Tags: Sam from SDV x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry for the super super super late response. Life has been pretty busy for the past few months and I haven't had the time to get on Tumblr. But, I'm slowly coming back to it! Anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy, loves! 🌷🫶

🎸 He was absolutely thrilled when you asked him to teach you how to skateboard. He immediately came knocking on your door the first thing in the morning the day after you brought it up, carrying his skateboard and some gear. You two spent the whole day going over the basics, with Sam holding your hands and trying not to laugh when you would scream over the tiniest things (“I’m going to die, Sam!” “It’s just a pebble!”). A cute add-on: Vincent and your pet would tag along sometimes, and they took it upon themselves to be your personal cheerleaders. After some time and a few bumps and bruises, you and Sam would often skateboard all around the town, trying to impress each other with tricks. Sam has your name etched on his skateboard, and you have his name on yours.

🎸 Personal HC where Sam and Vincent stumbled inside the fruit bat cave while they were visiting. Sam got bit by a bat, nothing too serious. Vincent is horrified, and Sam decided to mess with him by pretending to be a vampire. Suspiciously, you find yourself missing a jar of your homemade jam. Turns out, Sam “borrowed” it (And by that, I mean he scribbled a little note on the place where your jam used to be), and covered it all over his face pretending it’s blood. He got a big scolding from Jodi right after though.

🎸 Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship! It all started when Sam looked into the sewer to show Vincent that no, there is no monster in the sewage canal. He was soon face to face with a shadow man and it was over. Krobus has a knack for beating the hard levels on Sam's video game and their friendship budded from there. Sometimes, Sam would disguise Krobus with his clothes so they can watch movies in the cinema together. You found out about them when you walked in on Sam trying to teach Krobus how to play the drums in the greenhouse.

🎸 Sam asked Jodi to teach him how to bake after he had the bright idea to ask you out on a picnic when you two started dating. It all started when Penny showed him those fancy little cakes that she ordered from Zuzu City as a treat for Vincent after the kid passed his math exam. Penny mentioned how you saw those cakes when she bumped into you by the bus stop and thought they were cute. Cue a light bulb in Sam’s head. Sam’s not the best cook, but he’s got the enthusiasm. He ended up with a lopsided two-tier cake with a little blob of fondant on top of it (Vincent’s lips pursed, “What’s with the brown rock?” Sam sputtered while Jodi’s laughter chittered in the air close by. “It’s a chicken!”). Sam would make up for it years later when he would remake the same cake for your wedding anniversary.

🎸 Sam would randomly call you in the middle of a rainy day and just play guitar riffs. No words exchanged. When he’s done, he will just hang up.

🎸 Sam gives you pretty seashells that he and Vincent dig up on the beach (sometimes with a little help from Elliott and Willy) instead of flower bouquets. He doesn’t want to risk sneezing all over you when the pollen would inevitably make his nose red.

🎸 Sam had a whole phase of wearing a cowboy hat when he’s working on the farm for the first few months.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv sam x reader #sdv sam x farmer #sdv sam #stardew valley sam #sdv headcanons #🌱 writing :: sam

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starstruckloverz · 7 months

Text

DID I MAKE YOU SCREAM?

-ˏ͛⑅　��̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ -

SUMMARY - How is Rafe Cameron, your sweet, loving, boyfriend, who seems to have done no wrong, the most wanted serial killer in the world?

WARNING - slight smut, fluff, arguing, Dark!Rafe, f!m

A/N - my first Tumblr post.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚

ACT I

A SCREAM echoed through the house.

Y/n sat on the leathered couch as she gripped her boyfriend's arm yet again, "it wasn't even that scary." Rafe sneered, laughing at his trembling girlfriend, "Yes it was!" she shouted, punching Rafe's arm harshly, "Can you change it now?" Y/n questions, but he refused, "I did not pay 30 dollars to watch Nun 2 just for you to tell me to change it." he argued, Y/n pouted, trying to find his lack of sympathy, "Are you trying to kill me?" Rafe frowns, "I would never." he responds, relaxing his body.

Rafe pushed a piece of hair out of Y/n's face as he gracefully rubbed the index of her warm cheek, "you'll be the death of me Y/n L/n." he stated, watching as her face turned a bright shade of red. His eyes softened as she gripped his arm, pushing his arm down so she could get a better chance at connecting their lips.

"Mmm." he hummed through the kiss, although when she pulled back, all she could find was a blushed-out Rafe Cameron. "How about, we don't watch the movie and.." she started, trailing her finger down his stomach, "Maybe go upstairs to your room?" Rafe sneered, rolling his eyes vastly "Nice try Y/n, were not missing the movie." Rafe motioned himself to kiss her again but she turned her head away.

He chuckled it off, but it kinda hurt inside. Rafe placed his hand on her back, pulling her big shirt all the way up to her shoulders just so he could cress her skin with his fingernails softly. Y/n stuck her head inside Rafe's chest, unable to watch the next jump scare that would happen.

Rafe trailed his hand all the way up her spine, then back down and onto her curves, "Ow!" Y/n shouted, pushing her face out of Rafe's chest in a swift move. "What?" he asked, unsure whether he did something wrong or not. "Watch the hands, Mister, you hurt me," she told, showing Rafe a huge scar that was on her side.

He gave her a confused stare, "Where did you get this from?" he questioned, touching it so gently, trying hard not to harm her. "Remember when I was at the haunted house? well, I kind of ran into..." That's when it hit him. Rafe knew exactly what she was talking about.

Ghostface crept out the corner, grabbing his next victim, the room was dark, and he knew that Y/n was safe at home, or at least that's what he thought. He gripped Y/n so tightly that she could barely breathe. She tried to scream, be he had already shoved the tip of the knife so far up her hip.

Rafe knew that he'd regretted that decision for the rest of his life. Not long after He got a call from the hospital, saying that his girlfriend got into an 'accident' he told her not to go, knowing this would have happened. If only she had listened.

"I'm so sorry Y/n," Rafe spoke, apologizing. "why? you didn't do this to me," Y/n declared, kissing his cheek, then pushing herself off of him and walking her way to the kitchen. "Yeah... I know, but I'm your boyfriend, I should've been there to protect you ya know?"

"You did protect me, you told me not to go, and you made It very stated as if you knew that psycho killer would've been there." Y/n giggled, pouring herself some glass of water that came from the fridge. "You my own little psychic," Rafe scrunched his face, "Yeah, and from now on, you gonna listen to me when I tell you not to go anywhere, like Toppers party, for example,"

Y/n vastly lifted her head, her eyes wide open, "But it's a Halloween party, Rafe, I bought a costume just for it." She groaned, irritated and upset, "Y/n, you not going," Rafe's voice engaged, turning loud, "You're not my dad Rafe Cameron, and plus, Ghostface hasn't been seen since last year," Rafe rolled his eyes, he already knew that trust me, however, its more of the guys, he doesn't want anybody looking at Y/n especially Kelce, he had a thing for Y/n before Rafe and she even started going out.

"No means no." "This is such Bullshit."

Rafe made his way to his girlfriend, kissing her forehead, "Wouldn't you rather spend your night soaking in a bubble bath?" He questioned, holding his girlfriend's cheek with the index of his palm. "No," Y/n stated, pushing his hand off her cheek, and making her way to the couch, "Cmmon babe, you know I hate when you're mad at me." she only rolled her eyes in response.

"Please, I promise I'll make it up to you." Rafe gripped her shoulders, rubbing them as he leaned in to kiss her soft neck, Y/n let out a soft whimper, biting her lip as she leaned her head back, creating more room for his lips. "Please?" he asked again, finding her soft spot, Y/n could feel her legs going numb, and her heart racing out of her chest.

"Pretty please." Rafe then made his way to the front kissing her chest lightly, "fine," Y/n said, smiling at him as their eyes met, Rafe smirked evilly, grabbing her from the bottom of her thighs and picking her up from the floor. Y/n made a little squalling sound as he pushed her up against the cold wall.

Y/n pulled Rafe by the neck into a kiss, as their lips collided they moved in sync, he kissed her so roughly it was as if she was the last thing he'd ever eat, Y/n started tugging at his greasy curtain bang hair as she moaned into his mouth.

Rafe pressed up Y/n rinding on her as she was helpless against the wall, her legs still in the air, Y/n gasped at the feeling, Rafe's boner was pushing against her core harshly.

"Room." Y/n managed to get out, the overstimulation was bearable but still harsh, Rafe nodded, taking her back off the wall and walking up the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

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ACT II

...

Y/n was obviously not gonna listen to Rafe, especially after they had sex, I mean common now, does he think she's naive, or easily tricked. Y/n stood in the mirror, looking at herself.

She had a stupid sexy prison guard costume, Rafe was supposed to be her prisoner, but I guess he didn't care to show up with her, he still didn't know that she was even there in the first place.

"Hey!" Sarah Hollard from the other side of the room, making her way toward y/n, "Hey," she replied, "Where's Rafe?" Sarah then asked, confused, "he... couldn't make it," Sarah could taste the tension, she saw that Y/n wasn't happy, and normally she would just leave it because she knew her brother would be there to save the day, but it felt different, it wasn't the same.

Y/n carried her red cup in her hand, Sarah's face lightened, and the song Gasolina started playing on the speakers, basically blasting through the whole house, a grin came upon the two girls' faces, considering the fact that the song was there.

"Common, let's get you out of this corner and have some fun." Sarah tugged on the girl's costume, pulling her to the dance floor, Y/n gave Sarah a waring look, putting her cup on the table as the Cameron girl basically dragged her to the middle of the room.

As they reached the middle, Y/n was surrounded by unknown people, somewhere making out on the couch others were just taking shots from clear glass cups. Bottles of fireball and vodka filled the kitchen tables while beer cans filled the floor.

Y/n danced with Sarah to the music, swaying her hips back and forth in a swift motion as she ran her fingers through her hair, "I missed you." Sarah said yelled over the music, trying to make sure her voice was loud enough for her to hear.

"I miss you too," Y/n shouted back, giggling. The blue and purple light flickered veraciously as the two danced with one another, everything felt in slow motion, she healed onto Sarah, laughing historically.

"What happened with you and Rafe?" "He couldn't make it," Y/n answered.

Sarah stopped her moving, completely going still, "that's weird." Sarah started, biting the bottom of her lip as she made her way to her red cup, chugging it down in one sip.

"What?" Y/n questioned, raising an eyebrow, Sarah looked hesitant, she looked at Y/n and just shook her head, "Sarah what is it." Y/n asked again, this time her voice was louder, she knew something was up, and it wasn't good news, "I'm probably seeing shit but, I swear I saw Rafe hanging out with Topper by the pool." Y/n shook her head, laughing at the fact.

Rafe couldn't be here, he told Y/n he was gonna stop by her house after the gym. Except, Rafe doesn't work out at the gym, he works out at Topper's house. Rafe wouldn't lie to Y/n, would he?

Y/n shrugged it off, remembering that she had already checked her GPS, he was at home, "Rafe's at your guy's house, I already checked." Sarah raised an eyebrow, confused as always, Sarah decided to try and change the subject, just in case she was wrong.

"uh fuck him, he couldn't even show up for his girlfriend, then he's a piece of shit," Y/n cringed, that stung a little because she knew that Rafe changed his frat boy ways just to be with her and he barely parties, plus Y/n hadn't seen him drink since that incident when he got into a fight with some guy and ended up getting jumped.

"Its alright," Y/n said, trying to set some ease to the conversation, "Who needs boys," Sarah yelled, chugging down the rest of her cup of beer and grabbing the nearest girl she saw, and kissing the living shit out of her, Y/n stood there, in shock.

Sooner or later Y/n couldn't stand the sight of her friend making out with a random person, she thought they would've stopped already, I guess not. "Sarah I'm just...gonna go," Obviously Sarah was too drunk to comprehend that she wasn't making out with her boyfriend John B.

As Y/n walked away she felt eyes on her, and it wasn't the type that was checking her out, it felt like their eyes were staring into her soul, pricing it roughly, that's when she got that feeling, that unsure feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to walk away, but it was almost like it was following her every move.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she pushed through the crowd, shoving everybody, she was about to get sick, and Y/n rushed, the light glowing blurry, as everybody's voice was screaming it echoed through her head, giving her a massive migraine.

"Fuck," Y/n swore, pushing her hair that was sticking up down with her hand. A scream. Somebody screamed. And now, Everybody screamed. As y/n pushed her head up to see what was causing the commotion she met Kelece, except, his throat was slit, and he was stabbed at least 5 times in the stomach. Y/n threw up everywhere.

She looked back up, watching as his blood started spilling everywhere, and standing above the body was.... Ghostface, Y/n was so close, it was almost an inch away from the crime scene. Y/n screamed, Loudly, Ghostface looked up vastly to meet eyes with the girl.

"Y/n?" the unknown voice said, however, it wasn't so unknown anymore, Y/n knew that voice from anywhere, she knew exactly who that sounded like, however, as she looked up she didn't want to believe it, how can her sweet loving boyfriend, be a killer, especially murdering one of his closes friends.

Y/n's eyes widen, she was in shock, and not the good kind, was Rafe Cameron, the boy that she had known since she was three secretly the masked killer, the boy who made her flowers from paper because he spent all his money on designer bags that Y/n doesn't even use.

The boy who calls her mommy to try and get her turned on because he wants her so bad, the boy who basically craves her taste on his lips early in the morning.

Rafe Cameron, Y/n's Rafe Cameron.

As she looked up she found herself wishing to god that if she looked at her GPS he was still at home and she was just overthinking, as Y/n rushed out the door she found herself cramming through her phone, she went on Life360, pressing on Rafe's location.

Rafe Camerons current location 453 Brooklyn Street. Aka, Toppers address.

Y/n dropped her phone, so when Sarah said that she saw him, she actually meant it, all the goodness and the things that Y/n thought about him went out the door, that day, at the haunted house, Rafe told her not to go, the room was dark, and he grabbed ahold of Y/n stabbing her, however when the light finally turned back on, Ghostface saw Y/n's face and Ran.

Everything was starting to make sense, it wasn't so messy anymore, it was all Rafe Cameron, her boyfriend, she's dating a fucking serial killer.

...

ACT III

Y/n walked through the doors of her house, still traumatized as tears streamed down her face, Kelce was a dick, but he was also a good person, most of the time, actually, nevermind, he was a person, and that was all that matters.

She threw her keys on the island, making her way to the kitchen to grab herself a cup of water, that headache still acing his skull. "Y/n thank god you're safe," Rafe Cameron said, grabbing her by the waist. Y/n quickly threw him off, "Rafe, don't fucking touch me, I know." Y/n told, pointing her finger in front of his face.

Rafes worried look quickly vanished, "Are you scared?" He questioned, his tone growing dark and mysterious. "n..No," Y/n says, her voice trembling in fear.

" Good, because I love you Y/n, and I would never hurt you." "your not even gonna deny it?" "Why would I ever lie to you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Why?" she asked, her voice cracking, everything Rafe was to her, all the goodness was gone, and all that was left was the darkness. "I'm doing it for you," Rafe answered, Y/n didn't say anything, her face downgraded as she backed up the closer her boyfriend got.

"Bullshit, how could killing people help me?" Rafe made a noise, it sounded like a laugh, however, it wasn't, "That night, at the haunted house, I heard those girls, the girls you thought were your friends, they were talking about you, saying that you're a slut, and a whore." Y/n shook her head, in disbelief.

"I couldn't let them get away with that."

Y/n's back hits the wall, giving her no room to move back from him, "And Kelce, I heard what he did, he was groping you, why didn't you tell me?" He questioned, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear as his tone got softer, and he noticed that she was trembling.

"Because I knew you would overreact, and I was so right, he was drunk Rafe, and he apologized saying that he didn't mean to...touch me without consent." Tears streamed through her eyes, remembering the eye-flashing sight of his blood spilling out of her throat.

"See what's where you're wrong, he was planning on doing stuff to you, I saw his text message on his phone, he was gonna rig your drink."

He said, kissing her forehead lightly, "So you kill him?!" Y/n asks, shouting at him, "Yes! you make me so crazy Y/n L/n that I would literally kill for you."

Rafe backs up, watching his now crying girlfriend as tears stain her rushed cheeks, her massacre ruined, Rafe then bends down, his knees touching the floor, "But, that night at the haunted house, you...you stabbed me, Rafe,"

"I told you not to go, Im so sorry Y/n, Im so, so so sorry." Rafe grabbed her hands, kissing her fingers one by one, praising her, not wanting to let her go, "There isn't a line, in this world, that I wouldn't cross for you," he cried, Rafe Cameron cried.

"I want to spend every minute with you Y/n L/n, I want you, all the time, every day, every hour, every minute, every second." Rafe then began kissing her arm, all the way up to her shoulder then back down.

"Will you marry me?"

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