#specifically tapping and hand movements maybe

[zootopiathingz]

Mabel has an asmr channel on YouTube

#idk I can see her liking asmr and trying it herself #specifically tapping and hand movements maybe #gravity falls #mabel pines #asmr

[what-if-i-just-did]

What about.. aliens and neurodivergents?

Like, they find out about body language, and facial expressions, and sayings, and all of that stuff. And the amount of poisons we drink for fun. And they're weirded out. And the humans don't know how to explain it, because they don't know any other.

Then the aliens meet neurodivergents. And at first they're like, wtf there are humans who don't understand humans? But then they realise, oh wait, these 'weird' humans can explain the 'normal' ones. And they start calling the neurodivergents 'h-w', 'humans weird'. So they talk about neurotypicals. And someone bring up how we poison ourselves for fun. And the neurodivergent is like, "Oh yeah, caffeine doesn't work on me, and I need like a whole wine bottle to get even tipsy and like six sigarettes for the nicotine to work but I had weed once and I got like wicked high instantly" and the alien is like wtf you're h-w you're supposed to be normal by galactic standards???

And say, the Kgrifu ship Hashalaiy has eight humans, which is almost the permitted maximum of ten, and only one of the eight are neurodivergent, and they tend to mask in public, even if the other humans aren't around. They usually turn down human applications but then they get one that states 'h-w, strong by human standards, frequently non-verbal' and they decide yes, let's hire this one, they're h-w, and if they're strong by human standards, they must be wicked-strong by galactic standards.

And this human, Bridge they call themself, introduces themselves to the other humans. The aliens look on with intrigue. Bridge keeps their eyes on the ground, talks softly, and fidgets with their sleeves. Seven of the other humans look them up and down, frown, and don't give them a second thought. The other h-w, though. Earth, her name is. She looks at them with curiousity, and exitement. When Bridge is done talking, Earth slowly walked towards them. She doesn't make eye-contact, like she usually does. "Autistic?" She asks in a soft voice. Bridge looks up, nods enthusiastically. Earth breaks out in a large grin. "ADHD with a side of OCD, on my side." The aliens don't know what those words mean. Then Bridge's expression changes slightly, and it isn't an expression any of the Kgrifu's know, but Earth immediatly replies verbally by saying "It's Earth."

The aliens observe Earth and Bridge interact the next few weeks. They're almost always around eachother, and barely talk to communicate. When they do talk, it's usually Earth- Bridge has said maybe a total of 20 sentences while around Earth, and usually they only really use one word. Rather than words, they use the 'body language' Earth claimed not to know, a few words from something called 'sign language' (an entire language of hand-movements!), simple noises such as hums, and, suprisingly.. touch. Earth will tap Bridge's right shoulder twice, or Bridge will run their fingers through Earth's hair (humans only have fur in four or five places on their bodies, and the fur on their heads are ridiculously long), and the both of them will recognise this as communication.

One time, ensign Ririfé sees/overhears (pretty much the same thing for xe's species) one of the 'normal' humans, Pietro, xe thinks his name is, look at such a non-verbal conversation with annoyance. Earth hums a specific melody, something best written as 'hmm-hmm-hmm-hhhhhhhh-hmm?', and then Bridge cocks their head to the left. Earth responds by doing a kind of half-shrug with one shoulder and saying "Tomorrow". Bridge thinks for a second before shrugging. Pietro calls out, saying: "Hey! Talk out loud, would ya!" This gets an identifiably 'angry' look from Earth, pointedly directed at Pietro, whereas Bridge, a large, muscular human, basically shrinks into themselves. Earth angles her head towards the door and looks back at Bridge. Without words exchanged, they leave. Pietro looks even more annoyed and goes over to his 'friends' (a human word for a non-biologically related pack consisting of humans (or other, sometimes!) of the general same age). Ririfé rushes to go tell the captain.

Alternatively, the aliens brand neurodivergents as the normal ones, and neurotypicals as the oddballs. The neurotypicals do not know how to handle this. I don't feel like writing a whole story for that right now but if you like the idea you should tell me.

Feel free to add on to this btw!

#humans are space orcs #neurodivergent #aliens #humans are the weird ones #humans are space fae #humans #humanity #Earth Zuko (oc) #Bridge Anthos (oc)

[bbyquokka]

Kissing all of Lixs freckles :)) telling him how much you love him, maybe he's so grateful he takes care of you!! Just sweetie Lixie

freckles

FLUFF BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

cw: gn reader, established relationship, sickness (fever), pet names (darling), semi proof-read! words: 0.7k ~ (731)

a/n: tysm for the soft thought! i hope you enjoy! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

he lets out a tired groan. his body is full of aches and pains. he can feel how stiff his joints are with each movement. his forehead is burning up yet he is shivering and his throat feels scratchy.

fuck he thinks to himself. i can't get sick, not now!

he hears the door opening and is quick (or as quick as he can be regarding his condition) to get up and lock himself in the bathroom.

he doesn't want you to see him like this, all hot and stuffy. he also doesn't want to get you ill too. it's not ideal when the both of you are sick, even if it does sound cute in an odd way.

“lix! im home!” you call out as you carry the bags of groceries to the kitchen to unpack. you furrow your brows together when he doesn't answer. “lix??”

you place the bags on the counter and floor before wandering around the house. you walk into the living area and see that the cushions and blankets have been freshly ruffled up with a fresh glass of cold water.

“felix?!” you grow concerned but it's quick to disappear once you see the light peaking out from the underside of the bathroom door alongside the sound of running water.

“felix?” you knock softly on the wooden door. “are you in there?”

“uh, yeah! just uh, give me a second.” felix scrambles around in the bathroom, splashing cold water onto his face and rinsing his mouth with cold water to make him look somewhat alive. he looks in the mirror and sighs.

“on second thought, i don't want to come out.”

“why? is everything ok?!” you go to open the door but it's locked.

“i'm uh–”

“are you doing something lewd in there felix?” you giggle.

“what?! no! no! no!” felix flushes red and feels hot, whether from embarrassment or from his fever. “i'm sick with fever and i don't want to give it to you..”

“awe lix!” you coo, heart melting at how considerate he is, even in his time of need. “that's adorable of you but you're going to have to come out anyways. let me look after you, yeah? just like you do with me.”

you hear the sink tap being shut off and the door unlocking before being pulled open slowly. you gasp a little at how unwell felix looks.

"oh baby.. come here.” you open your arms out. felix pouts and throws himself into your arms. you hold him gently, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he whines softly.

“lets get you back on the sofa, m'kay?” he simply nods. he has no energy to protest. he lets you drag him to the sofa, let's you give him water and medication.

you made him some soup, gracefully feeding it to him. felix looks up at you with doe eyes.

“you're the best, yn.” he mumbles. you laugh softly and pat his head gently. “have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“all the time, darling.” you respond as you place the bowl on the coffee table.

"no like, i really fucking love you. like, my heart feels like it's going to burst and i feel hot with love. i feel tingly and butterflies in my stomach because of you. i want to marry you one day, yn.”

you blush and giggle softly at his sudden confession.

“are you delirious because of your fever?”

“mhm, maybe. but what i said is true and comes straight from the heart. it wasn't delirious me speaking.”

“then, i want to marry you too, lixie.” you say shyly. felix grins big and watches you lean in. he puts his hands up between you both to create distance to which you frown at

“i told you, i don't want to get you sick.”

“then, how about this?” you gently lower his hands and kiss his cheeks – more specifically, his freckles.

“one. two. three. four.” you count as you kiss each and every one of his freckles. felix laughing softly and holding you softly.

“when are you going to stop counting?” he jokes.

“until i've kissed each and every one of your freckles.” you grin before resuming your kissing and counting.

“i have a lot of freckles baby.”

“then i guess you'll be getting a lot of kisses, if not more!”

#🍰 ﹒ ❞ ﹒ ♡ ﹒ 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #skz soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #lee felix #felix #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #felix x you #felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader

[love-bitesx]

HII!!! how are you?? i love your writing so much‼️‼️ i have an actual question and then a request for fic or yk what i mean?

the question is do you take anons? like emoji anons so like you know whos who while stillmbeing able tl be anonymous? if you do could i be one? and if i can be an emoji anon could i be 🪐? (im just writing all this on one ask so it wont be a hassle yk?)

and as for the request i was wondering if you could write hobie with a fem reader (can be gender neutral idc) who love’s physical touch but has sensory issues/overloads where sometimes even when like just holding hands they random tuck their hand away and get annoyed or irritated from all kinds of physical touch but still love it? idk how to explain it all that well😓😓 like the reader’s love language is physical touch but they dont ask for it and mostly think they dont deserve it due to being touch starved and now that hobie came along they love the touch but the sensory issues/overloads make it harder??

im so sorry if this is confusing🙏🏼🙏🏼 also you dint have tk write this if you dont want to its completely understandable!! love your work sm‼️

take care🫶🏼

HIII IM SORRY THIS GOT LOST COMPLETELY, HI 🪐 ANON ILY !! i absolutely will take emoji anons i love all my little anon/requesters ur all angels

sensory issues r icky!!! i struggle with them massively, especially in relationships – i get it!! this is a safe space for anything like that, and any neurodivergent readers/requesters!! i love u all

hobie x reader w sensory issues!!

- initially, he’d be defensive about it

- as in the very first time you denied his touch, purely because he’d be convinced you’re mad at him.

wringing your wrists, you breathed a shaky sigh of relief as peace restored itself in your head, sitting yourself down on your sofa, letting yourself relax. it’d been a tough day, with even tougher emotions, and your chest burnt with tension, skin crawling at the feeling of your jumper against it. movement sounded somewhere in the apartment, but you ignored it, just allowing yourself a moment of peace.

until, you felt a hand slide itself into yours, the sofa dipping in weight as hobie threw himself next to you. a conflicted wave of emotions hit you, immediate comfort filling your chest at the feeling of your dear boyfriends touch after a long day – but your skin surged with irritation, brain overwhelming itself with noise, causing you to rip your hand away.

“darlin’?” hobie’s voice was small, concern lacing it’s words.

“i-i just need to be alone, hobie,” you avoided his gaze, pushing yourself up off the sofa and heading to your room. he followed, not unlike a lost puppy, wracking his brain to see if maybe he’d upset you.

“did i do somethin’, y/n?” his tone was sterner, almost defensive.

“no, no, i just–” you sighed, hands shaking slightly as you attempted to surprise the growing annoyance in your chest, “i just need a little space, i need to be on my own right now.”

- he would take your words completely differently, thinking you meant space from him

- but once you explained that it wasn’t him specifically, purely just your brain deciding that hey! now everything suddenly feels disgusting and fills you with ungodly rage, he was a lot more considerate & understanding.

- took him a little while, purely because he was obsessed with your touch, literally drunk off it most days.

- his natural stance was with you, leant against you or arm suspended over your shoulders, so it took him some time to get used to that not happening occasionally.

- he’d learn little ways to ask you if it’s okay

- mostly, he would just outright ask “a’right if i touch you, pretty?” and wait for your answer patiently

- but if you’re out and about, or maybe with others, and he can see that you’re overwhelmed and possibly even verbally shutdown, he had a little routine:

- he’d be subtle with it, tapping his own knee or a subtle wave to catch your eyeline, and once you were watching, he’d interlock his own hands, a questioning look in his eye.

- if you nodded, he’d be all over you, content with the feeling of you

- if you shook your head, or averted his gaze, he’d simply smile, and wait patiently for you to come to him

- more than anything, he just wants to learn from you – learn what you like, what you don’t like, how he can help when you’re overwhelmed, if he even can, etc.

- he’d be sooooo patient my god

- he’d literally wait for hours, even longer if it meant you would be comfortable and happy

he’s just happy to have u by his side and call you his!! he doesn’t mind if he can’t touch you all the time, and he never takes any outbursts or bad moods to heart, he understands it’s hard for you

if other people weren’t as understanding, though — maybe friends draping themselves over you, hugging you, nudging you, etc. when your sensory issues were more prevalent, he’d be the first one to your defense

bonus:

if you had verbal shutdown, he’d carry around a little notepad in his pockets at all times, even when you’re not around (he just got used to carrying it). he likes seeing the little drawings and doodles you do, little kisses you put on the page for him when you can’t express it yourself physically, or verbally.

he just loves u a lot.

#🪐 anon #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie x you #hobie headcanons #astv hobie #spiderpunk #across the spiderverse #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk

[throneofsapphics]

a special surprise

Rhys x f!Reader

Summary: Day 3, Lingerie with Rhys 

Warnings: smut, rough oral sex, lingere, light d/s dynamics, minors dni! 

kinktober masterlist

After dinner, you were determined to do something special for Rhys, even if he would say it’s completely unnecessary. He’d been gone since before dawn, and although he wouldn’t tell you, you knew he had a rough day. You rummaged through your closet, finding a golden lace set, one you hadn’t worn in a while. 

“I’m taking a bath,” you yelled, not waiting for a response. The bath was one of the quickest you’ve taken, ever. After, you put on some of your favorite - and his favorite - rose scented oil, and slipped the set on. Beautiful, if a bit uncomfortable.

You slowly opened the door, slipping silently through the hallways, and finding him in one of the sitting rooms, hands tucked in his pockets as he looked over a map on the table.  

“Hello,” You say softly, leaning against the doorway. His head turned, and his eyes widened before a smirk formed on his face. 

“Hello darling.” He purred, stalking towards you in a way that made your pulse flutter. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he stopped before you, his hands brushing over your ribs, feeling the fabric beneath his fingers. His thumb ran possessively over the column of your neck. 

-

He hadn’t seen this particular set in a while. Rhys remembers every single one you have, and loves them all. He never asked you to wear them, letting you choose to put them on when you’d like. His hands pressed under your thighs, and you laughed softly, locking your legs around his waist. Rhys winnowed directly to the bedroom before lowering you to the sheets, his eyes took in every inch of you, listening as your heart rate and breathing sped up. Your skin, soft and smooth underneath his fingers as he traced them along your stomach, fingering the edge of the lace, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back against your skin. A soft moan left you, back arching. He thanks the Mother, every day, for you. 

“Gorgeous.” He murmured, “and all for me.” 

“All yours,” you breathed. 

-

Rhys took his time with you, his fingers ghosted over every inch of your skin, and you were soaking wet and he’d barely touched you. You squealed as he pulled be back towards the edge of your bed, peeling the set off of you, painfully slow, but you knew better than to whine or complain. 

“Please,” You begged instead. His eyes lit up with feline amusement. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.” 

“Please touch me, Rhys.” You pushed yourself up, propping on your forearms. “Or can I touch you?” You swallowed harshly. He usually preferred to take his time with you, driving every inch of you crazy before you ‘earned the right’ to feel his cock, as he liked to say. Lust and desire made his eyes darken, and maybe for once you could go first. 

“I won’t be gentle,” he murmured, and you could scent your own arousal flooding the room. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” 

“Yes.” You breathed. You want all of his frustrations, all of his anger, to be that outlet and person for him - in any way you can. His hands trailed down your front, sending your back arching as his thumb brushed over your nipples - the lace rubbing against them. 

“On your knees my love.” His hands pulled you off the bed, switching your positions. You carefully undid the laces on his pants as your hands shook with each movement. “Hands behind your back,” he murmured as he noticed. You followed his instructions without question, and nearly salivated as he adjusted his pants just enough so his length would come out. As much as you love seeing his naked body there’s something erotic about him being fully clothed in front of you, as you’re left almost completely bare. 

“This pretty little mouth, all mine to use,” he commented, almost absentmindedly, running his fingers through your hair. 

“All yours.” You replied, unable to take your eyes away from his. One finger tapped your cheek, and you parted your lips. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head to the perfect angle to take him. You teasingly ran your tongue up his length, before one hand fisted the back of your hair, the other guiding himself inside you. His eyes closed in pleasure, the quiet moans leaving him as you swirled your tongue around. He groaned as his movements sped up, his hand pressing you down, forcing you to take him more and more. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructed, and you listened, following his every instruction. 

“Look at you, taking me so well.” He praised, and his hands gripped you tighter, as he thrust into you without abandon. A sense of pride filled you as it took mere minutes for him to spill down your throat. You swallowed each bit, licking your lips to make sure you got every last drop.

As soon as you had, he tugged you up and tossed you on the bed, chuckling as you squealed. 

“I might not take this off you,” he murmured as you propped yourself up on your forearms. 

“Really?” 

He hummed, running a finger up your core, lightly pinching your clit. You let out something between a whimper and a moan, your legs instinctively trying to close but Rhys used his knees to keep them parted, sending a warning glance at you before kneeling between your thighs. You groaned as his teeth scraped over the fabric, one finger running underneath the edges of it.

“Let’s see how many we can get out of you, darling.”

#rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #kinktober #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar imgaine #rhys x reader #rhys x y/n

[campingwiththecharmings]

HAPPY OSCAR FICVERSARY HONEY!!!!

That is SO exciting!!!!!!

Ok so listen, if you want me to choose a prompt specifically I will, but I had a thought that I think you might like so please just lmk what you think:

Neighbor Miguel is Spider-Man and his identity is a secret from the world, ofc. Reader works in the medical field, he knows this because they've talked casually on occasion in the past. He gets injured and doesn't have anywhere else to go (for whatever reason) so he knocks on reader's door.

Can be just fluff or smut, whatever your heart desires, but I thought it would be a cute idea that you might like hehe <3

Helping Hand

AN: Eeeeeee, thank you, Mel. Your friendship and support mean a lot to me, I hope you know that. ❤️ Thanks for being there, and also for sending this prompt in. I hope it did it justice! 🤞

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: T (for mild gore) Words: 1,007 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader (should be GN, please let me know if that's incorrect) Warnings: brief mention of blood, wounds/injuries, hurt/comfort, cheesy/contrived dialogue probably lol AO3

——————

You sigh as you enter your apartment, shuffling through the door and letting your bag drop to the floor. The ER had been slammed today, and you were beyond exhausted. Starving, you head toward your kitchen, rifling through the fridge before settling on some leftover takeout for dinner. You decide to change while you wait for it to reheat and exit the kitchen, heading in the direction of your bedroom.  

A soft tapping noise makes you pause, your ears perking at the sound as worry settles in your gut—shit, it wasn’t rats again, was it? You’d thought the landlord had taken care of that problem months ago. You listen for a moment longer, your anxiety easing a little when you don’t hear anything further. Maybe it was just the wind, you think, resuming your trek. 

You hear it again as you reach the door to your bedroom, the tapping louder this time, more insistent. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s coming from your window, a surprised scream lodging in your throat when you finally locate the source of the sound. 

Is that….Spider-man? 

You stare, a little flabbergasted and blinking rapidly, as if it’ll somehow make this baffling image disappear. 

Alas, it does not. 

He taps again, the movement sluggish. His fingers slide down the glass and your breath catches when streaks of red appear in their wake. 

He’s injured.  

Before you can really think about it, you’re at the window, unlocking it and pushing it open. He all but falls through it, his huge frame pouring onto the floor beneath the sill. You immediately crouch beside him, your hands on his broad shoulders as he struggles to prop himself up against the wall.  

“Where are you hurt?” you ask calmly, your eyes flicking over him expertly, alert for any signs of injury. 

He says nothing, just gestures to his head, panting as if he’s been running a marathon. You frown, carefully taking his face in your hands. You can feel the warmth of his skin through his suit as you gingerly turn his head this way and that, careful not to injure him further. He grunts when your fingers graze the back of his head and you bite your lip, your gaze settling where you assume his eyes are beneath his mask.

“If you want my help, I’ll need you to remove the mask,” you tell him, your voice gentle but firm, leaving no room for negotiation. 

There’s a pause as he presumably considers your request, and just as you’re wondering what he’s thinking, he nods, his mask retracting like magic. Your mouth falls open when you not only see his face but recognize him. 

It’s your neighbor, Miguel. Spider-man is your neighbor. 

You allow yourself a moment of shock, before standing to your feet and running to your bathroom to grab a few clean towels and your first aid kit.  

Help first, questions after. 

You crouch before him, holding his chin between your fingers and carefully tilting his head up to check his eyes with your pen light. He flinches but doesn’t fight you. Once you’re positive he doesn’t have a concussion, you maneuver him so you can reach the back of his head and begin gently examining and cleaning his wound. His hair is soft against your palm, the ends curling slightly from exposure to the humid air outside, and you wonder briefly what it’d be like to plunge your fingers into the dark, mussed depths (under different circumstances, obviously).  

You’re close, close enough to smell him, his scent warm and woodsy, oddly calming. He winces as you work, grunting every now and then in pain as you clean the area. Once you're finished, you apply an antibiotic cream to his scalp that you know will help heal it quickly.  

“You should be okay, just try to keep it clean and dry.” 

He nods, wincing a little as he shifts, leaning more of his weight against the wall. 

You study him quietly for a moment, eyes tracing the tired lines of his face. His eyes are half closed, his mouth drawn in a tight line. You wonder if anyone else knows his secret; does he have a partner or does he carry the weight of all of this alone? The thought breaks your heart a little. 

“So,” you begin airily, his eyes flicking to you as you gesture at what remains of his spider-suit, “is this why I never see you at any of the building meetings?” 

He blinks at you, his movements sluggish, and for a moment, you worry that you’ve made things awkward...but then he sniffs a laugh, a smile curling on his lips, and there’s a dim light in his eyes that wasn’t there before, despite his wince of pain. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, a pang of guilt snagging in your chest.

He waves you off, meeting your eyes again briefly, his expression sobering a little. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“What for?” you ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

“For showing up like this…unannounced and bleeding all over your floor.”

“It’s okay, was only a little blood,” you tease, shrugging slightly.

He snorts and you chew your lip, your stomach flipping nervously. Has he always been this good-looking? Suddenly you can’t remember, aren’t sure you ever really took the time to notice…

“C’mon,” you say, standing to your feet and offering him your hands. 

Miguel looks between your face and your outstretched hands for a moment, then takes them, his large hands engulfing yours. You grunt as you help him stand, using all of your weight to help him get up off the floor. He wobbles a little as his center of gravity shifts, leaning against the wall again for support as he waits for the dizziness to pass.

“Okay?” you ask, watching him closely, your hands still clasped in his.

Your heart skips in your chest when he meets your eyes again, his gaze soft as he smiles and nods.

“I’m getting there.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #my fic #i can see an expansion of this #mostly bc i didn't get to write as much as i would've wanted #maybe with drabbles like the neighbor!santi au #idk i might revisit this at a later date lol

[aka-indulgence]

HEY @llamagoddessofficial I got some inspo from reading Tilikium, specifically imagining a positive interaction between Skull and a human outside of the ✨Siren Whisperer✨ hehe… I just love soft giant monster and smol child interactions ToT

Also no I’m not projecting kid me here by writing that they were a big marine biology fan, no way

---

he’s still there.

Skull doesn’t think the visitors of this aquarium ever realize that they’re being watched, when they come to Skull’s tank. There was a little boy sitting in front of his tank, on the little platform just in front of the glass. He’s been sitting there for a very long time, maybe since around midday- and it was closing time soon. Most of the time, Skull would see kids running into his room, see the empty tank, look around for a while, before immediately giving up and going somewhere else. He thought the boy would do the same when he first came by. He stayed longer than Skull thought he would, but he did eventually leave. … Only to come back with some snacks in one hand, back to sitting in front of the glass, staring inside. Another time he left, he came back with a curious piece of paper, with something Skull couldn’t quite make out. At all his visits, he brought a book with him. It looked like it was too big for him, maybe half his size- but he always had it with him.

The rest of the guests have left. Not like they’d spend their last few minutes in the aquarium looking at an empty tank. The kid was persistent- even now he was still there, looking back from the tank to the book, and back again. Soon he’d have to go home, Skull knew, but it was… nice. It felt like he had company, even if the child didn’t know he was there.

He took one long look around the tank, those little round eyes scanning… then he climbed down the little platform, taking his book and piece of paper with him, heading towards the exit. He looked dejected, hanging his head low (as low as it could, almost comically so for that little body), dragging his feet.

… He stops when he notices a rather large shadow had fallen over him. Slowly, he turns around.

Skull was there, crawling closer to the glass, his inky black tentacles swaying around him like gentle seaweeds.

Skull watched in gleeful fascination as the kid’s face turn from confusion, to shock… to a wide smiling mouth, eyes wide, taking all of him in. He takes Skull aback for a second, the speed at which his tiny legs ran back towards the glass, placing the book and paper on the side and hopping onto the platform. From the shape and movement of his mouth, Skull could guess he was laughing- he wished he could hear it.

He presses his face against the glass, plopping both hands beside him.

Skull’s eyelight glows brighter, bringing his face lower. His sockets gleam softly at the little one- he looked so chubby, so tiny. His hands would barely be able to circle just one of his phalanges. Skull wanted to squish his hands, his cheeks, how soft they must be. Even when Skull revealed himself to the aquarium staff, he doesn’t remember anyone looking at him with so much innocent joy and excitement. This close, so much smaller than the other humans, yet he didn’t have an ounce of fear in those eyes. The child waves enthusiastically to him, and Skull waves back.

If staff had been looking at him, their heads would all collectively explode.

It’s apparent he’s caught the kid’s attention when his tentacles start curling. He removes his face from the glass, admiring his tentacles. Skull waves them around, chuckling to himself when the kid tries to follow them across the glass, going back and forth, copying the movement with his arms. He looks closer when Skull sticks one of his tentacles to the pane. The kid looks fascinated by his suckers, tapping on them with his finger, maybe counting them. He yelps a little when Skull pries it away, letting them pop off one by one, leaving little trails of bubbles in its wake. He’s laughing, clapping his hands together… Skull can’t help but feel proud, having caused that. One of his tentacles was thicker than the kid’s entire body, he could use it like a blanket. The boy couldn’t hear it, but Skull growls playfully- getting cute aggression at how tiny he was.

The kid realizes something, watching the tentacles, sitting down and opening his favorite book. Skull watches curiously as he gently flips the pages, slowly, like he’s afraid he’d bend or rip the page. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he presses the book to the glass.

Skull narrows his sockets.

There’s… a picture of a deep sea octopus. It’s tentacles matched his.

… aw. Did he have a little admirer?

The boy could hardly contain his excitement, he was bouncing a little.

“Like you!” He saw the boy mouth.

Skull’s sockets turned into crescents, nodding. It was accurate- he used to see those octopuses in the depth he lived in.

What a smart kid. He couldn’t say the same for some of his caretakers.

He puts the book back down, picking up the paper he’d carried around earlier. It’s a little crumpled, apparently from the kid having gripped it too tightly. He sticks it to the glass.

…

This…

This was a drawing of him. Crayons of black and blue, a blob in the middle and jagged tentacles extending outwards.

Skull’s jaw goes slack, taking a closer look of it, sockets wide open. His eyelight growing, looking at the kid. He points to the paper, then to his chest.

“... me?”

His eyes were practically sparkling, nodding furiously.

If Skull was crying, he wouldn’t question it. His eyelight large, fuzzy. Like seeing light from under the waves. A warm smile crept up his face.

“thank you.”

No, the kid didn’t understand him. But he could see the boy’s mouth turn into a small “o” looking deep into his sockets. He looks almost hypnotized, a bit of red reflected in his black eyes. He reaches a hand up as if going to touch him. Skull meets his hand on the glass, fingers outstretched.

He was awestruck, expression unchanging, maybe looking at how big his skeletal hand was compared to his. Skull reads a “Wow,” from his lips, eyes glancing back to his eyes. Light filtered through water, dancing in those innocent eyes. He lets the kid stare- he isn’t sure how long.

Then, the spell breaks. He must’ve heard something, because he looks behind him towards the door leading to the tank room. He looks to Skull, frowning. Skull’s grin falls a little when the boy takes his hand off the glass. Although he couldn’t really feel it, it felt as if he could feel the warmth leaving when he does. He climbs down the platform, grabbing the book, but leaving the paper in front of the glass. He pushes it towards Skull, pointing to him.

‘For you.’

He walks slowly towards the exit, giving Skull a sad smile as he does, waving.

Skull never liked it when the kids had to leave. It was his only joy during opening hours, getting to watch them run around. Nonetheless, he kept smiling for him, waving back.

“Bye bye,” they mouth.

Skull starts drawing backwards, tentacles climbing over each other, the shadow of an adult appearing in the doorway, someone’s looking for the kid-

It’s you.

He stops when he sees you. You didn’t see him, running over to the child, he can’t quite make out what you were saying, but you were checking him… then you looked up and met his eye.

Your mouth opened. The boy looked back, a sweet smile on his face.

They couldn’t hear him, but Skull was trilling, tentacles curling and uncurling with excitement, swimming around his tank in the rare burst of movement, displaying his tentacles for the humans, before retreating back to the cave.

You were dumbstruck. The kid held on to your hand, tugging on it, asking questions about the deep sea cecaelia, breaking you out of your stupor.

This was definitely one of his best days.

#kid strayed from his group specifically to see skull #they were looking for him during closing time and you were the one who found him #hehe #tilikium fanfic #how do you tag a fanfic of a fanfic #(shrugs) #aka writing #here you go llama hehehe

[empresskadia]

Fractured [Master Chief | John-117]

I seriously can't stop thinking about this man, ugh, he deserves the world. I didn't know what to write, so this happened. I have John's Gentle Touches chapter kinda planned out but it's gonna be a hot minute before it gets written and posted.

Post Halo: Escalation

It was one thing to be ordered to take R&R and another to get dragged away for it, or rather, as close to R&R as one could get on a massive ship. John was sure that Kelly was going to tease him as soon as he saw her next, but he couldn't tell you no. Not when he was glad to see you alive and unhurt.

That, maybe, he didn't fail you like he did Cortana.

It was after the third mission since he had reassigned Blue team that he noticed the UNSC Infinity had added to her crew, more specifically when you had marched right into the hanger, hands placed on your hip and Kelly let out a low whistle. "Someone's in trouble." She had teased that made Linda give a short snort as they passed by.

Though it was Fred who placed a hand on your shoulder. "He's all yours, [Y/n]." The Spartan patted your shoulder gently, the request in the movement evident. 'Take care of John.' and your small nod was answer enough.

Your brow raised as the green armor approached, he was glad, no, happy to see you again. This felt like the one thing that didn't seem to have gone wrong, but it had been four years since he had last seen you. Maybe everything between you two had changed.

"Hello, John." You said with that soft smile you always give him.

Or maybe it hadn't. 

The Master Chief simply nodded in acknowledgement; he wasn't sure what to say. Where to start? The loss of Cortana was still too fresh and if he was being honest with himself, a part of him hadn't tried to find you as soon as possible. Perhaps it was the fear that you would see him differently now.

He had failed.

His thoughts were circling when he felt two taps on his chest plate. "Come back to me John. I can hear your thoughts running from a mile away."

"I-I lost her," He admitted.

You were quiet for a moment staring into his visor like you could see him through the helmet, a sad smile tugged on your lips, "I know. I'm sorry." You really were. Cortana had been your friend, one who would tease John with you, one who would help you with your projects and have late night chats with you in the lab, one who always kept you up to date on John's missions regardless of if she was supposed to or not.

"She told me to tell you goodbye. And thank you-"

"And to take care of you?" You guessed, cutting him off before you tapped his chest armor again, the clink vibrating through the air. "Let's get you out of this. I wanna see you, John." And he couldn't tell you no, whether or not he wanted to take off the armor.

He complied.

He could do orders.

He could share this loss with you.

And while he laid in your arms, out of his armor, in the silent room that was broken by your humming, your fingers slowly dancing across his bare back, John almost felt like he was home, like he could survive this loss. His arms were wrapped around your waist, his face pressed against your stomach as your nails continued their movements, gently caressing over the pattern of scars as if you were rememorizing the old ones and studying the newer imperfections. "I missed you," you whispered as your lips pressed against his shoulder, right onto a scar he received from the Didact like you knew where it had come from.  The confession was so quiet that you took in a steady breath as if you were grounding your feelings. "I thought you were gone." He could hear the small quiver in your voice.

John lifted his head a fraction, his eyes meeting yours in a silent understanding. He had missed you and feared the worst. As he looked into your eyes, he understood your fears, a mirror image of his own. The thought of losing you, of facing the galaxy without your presence, was a fear he couldn't bear to confront. John's arms tightened around your waist, not enough to hurt you but to remind him you weren't going to disappear, that you were indeed alive.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent vow to never let you go again. The warmth of your embrace, the gentle rhythm of your breathing. With you, he felt whole, as if all the fractured pieces of his being had finally found their place.

#fanfiction #halo #my writing #halo series #writing #master chief #john 117 #Halo x reader #john 117 x reader #master chief x reader #short story #one shot

[ravieisunhinged]

Something Else

Joakim “Jolly” Karlsson x Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Tags: @ladyveronikawrites, @lma1986, @blackveilomens, @cookiesupplier, @thcfountain

Content Warning: Fluff, Smut, 18+ only. Mentions of sub!jolly, dom!reader, orgasm denial, handjobs, male receiving oral, unprotected p/v sex.

Note: I'm pretty sure this is out of character for him, but I wanted to try writing this anyways. A second part is planned. :)

While waiting for your boyfriend to return from running errands, you decide to watch a movie. Halfway into the movie, you hear the door slam open and shut. Turning your head, you see your lover checking you out.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giggling.

“You’re pretty.” He says, obviously tipsy.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you ask, “Are you drunk babe?”

“Nooo, why would you think that?” He laughs.

“Come here, you goofball.” You say.

He smirks, and sits next to you on the couch. After taking in the view, he grabs your leg and makes you straddle his lap.

“Excuse me sir,” You say, “is there a reason you did that?”

“Maybe. What if I want you?” He says.

“Hmmm. I don’t think so sir, you’re drunk.” You chuckle, tapping the front of his nose.

“I am not drunk, I’m tipsy at best.” He replies.

“You sure about that love?” You ask, slowly sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling his bare skin.

“I- yes, fuck.” He mumbles.

“Mmm. If that’s the case, I’m in control this time.” You say, leaning up and biting his ear.

His breath hitches, and you press your lips against his. Soon, it turns heated, and Jolly wraps his arms around your waist.

Once he pulls away, he looks into your eyes. “I don’t normally do this,” He says, “but I’m willing to try. Just for you, sweet girl.”

“Please, never stop calling me that.” You laugh.

“Trust me, I don’t plan on it.” He replies.

“Good.” You whisper in his ear.

You kiss him again, and slowly move your hand lower and lower until it reaches his thigh. You start to grind on him, eventually feeling him get hard.

He pulls away. “Fuck doll, I need you.”

“Yeah? Something specific?” You ask, slowly unzipping his pants.

“Shit, what are you doing?” He asks.

“Answer my question, love.” You say.

“Hands or mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me already.” He replies

“As you wish.” You smile, kissing his cheek. Sliding your hand in his underwear, he gasps.

“Shit.” He groans, closing his eyes, and laying his head back on the couch. As you move your hand, he bucks his hips.

He swears to himself that he’s going to return the favor next time.

As he gets close, he starts to squirm. Before he can cum, you smirk, and remove your hand. He whines as you do this.

“Beg.” You say.

“For god’s sake, just let me cum.” He begs.

“Okay.” You reply, sliding your hand back in his pants. You speed up your movements, and soon enough, he cums in his pants, and over your hand.

Once you pull away, he’s panting and sweaty. You lick his cum off your fingers, and when he sees you doing that, he starts to get hard again.

“Fuck, you’re making me hard again.” He says, breathlessly.

“Yeah? Maybe I should keep jerking you off until you’re sensitive.” You suggest.

“You’re really going to do that to me?” He asks.

“Why not? Unless you have a better idea.” You say.

“I do, actually. How about instead, you get over here and ride me.” He suggests.

“That is tempting.” You say, licking your lips.

He removes his pants and underwear, leaving them on the floor.

“I’ll have to wash that for you later.” You laugh.

“Shut up.” He mumbles.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” You say, teasing him.

“You’re right, I do. When it’s you, my pretty girl.” He smiles.

Your cheeks flush, and you move closer to him. You weren’t going to give him what he wants, not yet anyway.

Sinking to your knees in front of him, his eyes widen. “I thought you were going to-“

“Shh. I wanna taste you baby.” You say, looking at him.

“Shit.” He says, feeling your mouth on him. He has the urge to grab your hair and to just fuck your face, but he’ll save that for next time. He smirks to himself as he thinks about that.

Bucking his hips once more, you moan against him. Knowing you like being praised, he does that. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

You were already soaking, and this just made it even worse. As he gets close, he squirms again.

“I’m going to cum, shit.” He whines. You quickly pull off of him before he can, and he glares at you.

You smirk, and take your underwear off, then straddle his lap. “Shh, when you cum, I want it to be inside.” You purr in his ear.

“I should be upset over that, but that makes up for it.” He smiles lightly.

You kiss him as you sink down onto him, and he groans loudly. His hands go to your hips as you start to move, and you leave love bites all over his neck.

“Shit, someone’s possessive tonight, isn’t she?” He teases you.

“I should get up, and use one of my vibrators to get myself off, just for that comment.” You say.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.” He replies.

“Who’s the one in control here love?” You ask.

“You, for now.” He says.

“What do you mean, for now?” You ask.

“Oh baby, did you think that I was not going to return the favor? One of these nights, you’ll see.” He replies.

“Can’t wait.” You say, biting his ear.

As you get close to letting go, you’re a mess. “Baby,” you whine. “touch me.”

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Sliding his hand down, he rubs your clit. And fuck, did it feel good. You clench around him, and he moans as he feels it.

“Shit, you’re close.” He says.

“Mhm,” You breathe out.

“Go on then,” He says, “cum for me doll.”

The nickname drove you insane, and you came, while shouting his name. He releases shortly after, filling you up.

You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling. “You’re cute when you try to dominate me. My sweet, pretty girl.”

“And you looked hot as fuck begging for me.” You reply.

“I’d beg for you any day of the week. Now,” He says, “expect me to return the favor one of these days, like I said earlier.”

“Should I be scared?” You ask.

“Perhaps.” He says.

“You’re hilarious. As much as I love where I’m at right now…maybe we should take a shower?” You suggest.

Jolly smirks, and carries you up to the restroom.

“Did I tell you that you’re the love of my life?” He asks.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re mine too, Joakim.”

#bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #joakim jolly karlsson fanfic #joakim jolly karlsson fanfiction #joakim jolly karlsson smut #joakim jolly karlsson fic

[joshlmbrt]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Gator Tillman imagine where he falls for innocent good girl reader who is new to town and does everything to charm her and asks her out and he notices little details about her he finds adorable and whenever he's around her he's putty in her hands 🤍

I didn’t care, before you were here.

GATOR TILLMAN X READER

summary: the new girl, gator tillman, his intentions to fit in, cherry pie, an apology. oh yeah, chocolate milk as well.

-

warnings: there’s no specific gender, so can be read as any! ooc!gator, Roy is very rude man dad - maybe slightly ooc!roy as well! Gator loves chocolate milk.

an: thank you so much for this request (and your other ones hehe) i hope this is sort of what you had envisioned and i did it justice. i did change it just a bit, but hopefully not to much! 🫶🏻

picture creds! : @gatorstillman

MARCH 25th, 2019

THE CHIME OF THE BELL echos in Gator’s ears as his heavy boots follow behind his father, a known and beloved sheriff, enters the restaurant.

His brown eyes stay alert, what he was trained - meant - to do.

Or, at least, that’s what he believed.

Whatever would win his fathers praises and not his words laced with no care that always stayed in Gator’s self-deprecating mind.

People greet Roy, smiling excitedly when he would stop to shake their hand or speak to them, although, he knew he really wasn’t paying any attention to whatever the old men or women were saying.

He just wanted to stay in everyone good graces.

The youngest Tillman decides to give a polite smile, excusing himself - even if they paid no attention - and find a booth for him and his father.

He slides into the booth, the old thing squeaking with any type of movement, glancing at the laminated menu.

“Hi! Welcome to Nelly’s Diner. What can I get started for ya?”

His ears perk up at the sound of a new voice and he quickly glances up.

The outfit was itchy.

That was your only thought at the moment. Your strained smile must’ve looked strange, especially since you were new, and everyone apparently knew that.

“Well, speak up, son,” Another voice had said, a deeper one. The booth squeaks again as the older man slides in, a sharp smile on his face. “Sorry, he’s a little slow.”

The boy looks away quickly, shifting in his seat and you frown. “No, it’s okay. I think I just startled-"

He waves you off. “I’ll have a coffee - all black, no sugar-” Figures. “And he’ll have a coffee as well.”

Your lips press into a thin line, a tight smile, nodding as you clear your throat. “Alrighty, I’ll be back with those coffee’s.”

You’re quick to walk off, starting a new pot of fresh coffee, because something tells you that if it wasn’t even slightly fresh, the man would know and would make it his own mission to get a fresh cup.

“What is wrong with you?”

Gator flinches at the harsh words, his fingers nervously tapping at the table.

“When someone asks you a question, you answer them, boy,” He points a finger in his direction. “I raised you better than that, with manners.”

Gators fingers finally stop tapping on the table, a hard look on his face as he finally looks at his Father. “What? Go on, say it.”

You didn’t raise me. Mom did.

But he can’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he shakes his head, looking back down at the table that had a permanent brown ring staining the surface.

-

MAY 15th, 2019

“Hi! Welcome to Nelly’s Diner. What can I get started for ya?”

Gator grins a bit, his ‘friend’ - just a co-worker that he would leave the station with and mess around for a bit - snickers beside him.

“Hi, doll,” Your brows lift, glancing between the two boys. The familiar one’s attitude switch was a surprise to you - always timid and shy and kind - it was like whiplash. “Is there any pie left? Cherry?”

Your eyes glance over your shoulder, sighing a bit before looking back. “There’s one cooking now,” You give a small smile. “Maybe five more minutes?”

“Do you think we have five minutes?” He lifts a brow. Your jaw drops slightly, before going to speak up.

“Well, I mean. . . If you want a uncooked crust, i’ll be happy to get it out and cut you a piece. Other than that, there’s no way I can cut you a piece now.”

He sighs a bit, shaking his head. “Fine. We’ll just have a coffee right now and wait.”

“Alrighty,” You nod. “Comin’ right up.” You turn, grabbing two glasses from the shelf, placing them in front of you.

The back of your neck felt like it was burning with both boys’ stare. You heard the other one snickering - again.

Your jaw clenches, grabbing the warm coffee pot, and pouring the black liquid into each cup.

You wanted to spit in at least one of their cups.

You almost did, but you held it in.

You grab both cups and slide them in front of each of them, walking towards another table with an older couple.

“Excuse me!” Your back stiffens, and the women stares at you quietly with a frown. You turn and glance back at the counter they were sitting at. “Yes?”

“This coffee isn’t fresh. What, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

Your brows pinch together in confusion. “What? It’s a good temperature-”

“We want a fresh cup, doll.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes so far back that they would stay there. “Okay, let me just finish this-”

“We would like to get it now.”

Your lips rub together and you turn to the couple. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be back.”

“It’s okay, dear.” The woman smiles at you.

It almost made you cry.

You only give her a shaky smile, turning and grabbing the two coffee cups from them and placing them in the sink.

You grab the coffee pot as well, dumping the contents out into the sink, washing it out before starting to make a new pot.

“Tillman and Bentley, 10-16, report to-” You didn’t pay attention to anything else the voice had said, a breath of relief exhaling deep from your chest.

“On it.” The unfamiliar man had said, standing from the chair.

“Thanks for nothin’, doll. Was really nice.” Your hands shake, some of the coffee spilling from the small scoop. He should be lucky the coffee was down the drain of the sink or it would’ve been thrown into his face without a second thought.

-

The bell rings and you sigh, lifting your heavy limbs to carry you out of the back and to the front.

“Hi, welcome to Nelly’s Diner. What can I get you?”

You were still upset from earlier, plus three people calling out leaving you to work with the cook, Billie.

“Your still here?”

Your jaw clenched as you look up at Gator, your face setting into a hard look. “Yes.”

“Oh. I thought you’d be gone by now.”

You stare at him, lifting your brows. “What can I get you?”

He frowns a bit, looking down at the table. “Just a chocolate milk, please.”

You nod, turning and walking off. You grab a clear glass and open the small refrigerator grabbing the jug of chocolate milk out.

You pour it quickly, before walking towards him and sitting it in front of him.

“Is that cold enough for you?”

He sighs quietly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m sorry about. . . all of that. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fine.”

“It’s not,” He shakes his head. “I just. . . I guess I wanted to seem cool or something. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It is,” You nod in agreement. “But people do stupid things to mix in with people because they feel like they need too. It’s whatever.”

He nods a bit.

“But if you do it again, I’m spitting in your drink.”

That gets him to laugh, nodding as he stares up at you. You give a small smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

SEPTEMBER 10th, 2019

The air was finally getting more breezy, an excuse to wear cute clothes.

Only if you didn’t get called in to work.

“Gator, I have to work, please-"

“Just. . . Let me ask you a quick question, please? It will take one minute.”

“Then you can wait until I bring their drinks over and take their order. Please?”

He sighs quietly, nodding and slumping back into a booth, finishing his chocolate milk.

You smile at him, grateful and place a hand on his shoulder before walking towards the counter, grabbing the tray of drinks.

After finishing with their orders and reading them off to Austin - the day cook who wasn’t as weird as Billie - before making your way over to Gator, chocolate milk long gone now.

“Okay, I’m all yours for the time being,” His heart skips a beat. “What’s up?”

He lets out a breath, before sitting up straighter. “Would you. . . Maybe we could. . . I wanted to-” He stops and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply before exhaling.

“Would you want to go on a date?”

You stare at him quietly and he slowly opens his eyes. He catches the look.

“If you don’t want to-” You quickly cut him off from thinking to much.

“No!” He flinches. “No. I mean. . . Yes, I would love to go on a date with you. But, it will be later. . . If that’s okay?”

His lips stretch into a smile. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine with me!”

Your cheeks flush and you nod, glancing down at your hands. “Alright, here,” You pull out your notepad, quickly writing down your address, sliding it to him. “I’ll see you around 7:00?”

He nods quickly and you grin, standing from the booth. “One more question.”

You stop and look at him, tilting your head.

“Can I have a chocolate milk to go?”

You laugh softly, taking his empty cup. “Comin’ right up.”

-

Gator was on time - which honestly surprised you.

He had been a little shy to tell you that all you were going to be able to do was a picnic.

“I don’t mind, really.” You had told him. And you really didn’t.

He quickly gets out of the car, jogging around to your side and opening the door.

“Thank you.” You grin at him, stepping out and glancing at the blanket and small basket that was already set up.

There were some flowers there as well.

You glance over at him, pecking his cheek softly. A pretty flush taking over his cheeks.

“I love this,” You nod. “It’s sweet and simple. Nothing to big.”

“I’m glad you love it,” He smiles a bit, taking your hand quickly so he wouldn’t overthink it.

You squeeze his hand softly just in case he did.

“Hope you like sandwiches and pie.”

“Sounds good.” You nod, following behind him.

And over sandwiches and cherry pie, and shocker, chocolate milk, you had gotten to know the strange, whiplash-attitude boy.

And you wanted to know more.

He was happy to let you get to know more, especially if he received cheek and forehead kisses more often from you.

thank you for reading! likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback is always welcomed!

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman fic #joe keery x reader

[folklorefairyy]

of rings and romance - e.m

summary - in which eddie gifts you a ring like his and you never want to take it off

word count - 1.505k

author’s note - this is a request by my lovely friend @milkiane and it was just too sweet, i hope i did it justice <3

it’s slightly proofread but i’ve probably over looked a few mistakes..

warnings - general romantic touching and kissing but nothing sexual!! i’ve tried to keep it gn but i do write everything with a slightly feminine undertone however there is nothing specific to gender within the fic!!

Eddie had noticed your fascination with his hands shortly after you had begun dating.

Delicate fingertips tracing guitar-string calluses, fingers forever fiddling with rings - warm skin against cool metal - and an ever constant need to have your hands knitted together.

He knew you were attracted to them, your bashful nature at being caught staring when he did just about anything with them being evidence enough, but he also noticed the great comfort you found within them. You always found a way to hold his hand with your own, toying with his fingers and fiddling whenever you could, grabbing it when nervous and seeking it on quiet evenings alone.

It was one of these quiet evenings, the pair of you sprawled on his small bed in the trailer, limbs tangled and bodies smushed together in a closeness that was far from uncomfortable, that he showed you just how perceptive he really was.

Here you were, fingers in his, twisting the rings and tapping your nails against the cool metal. Eddie’s free hand rubbing languid circles into the soft skin of your hip suddenly pauses as he awkwardly stretches his body, half hanging from the bed to his bag on the floor behind you. Your face is awkwardly smushed against his chest, giggles falling from your lips at the sudden prison of warmth you found yourself trapped under.

‘Baby, I’m suffocating here’ you sputter out between giggles and squished cheeks. Your hands grab at his shirt, partly to hold him back from face planting off the bed in typical Eddie fashion, but partly to keep him against you because - despite the squishy cheeks - you like being as close to him as you could

‘Oh really, huh, sweet thing?’ is Eddie’s strained reply, his body wriggling back on the bed as he retrieved what he was searching for. ‘Well maybe,’ he draws out, ‘I’ll just squish you some more,’ and with that he swiftly scoops you into his arms, pressing you as tightly to his chest as comfortable, bodies pressed into the mattress as he let out a dramatic sigh of contempt.

Giggles fall from your lips, the melodic sound only spurring him on as he rubs his nose into your neck. Your protests only half- hearted as you whine, ‘I’ll stop breathing soon, Eds’.

With that he pauses, the cheekiest grin painting his lips, eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement as he teases you, ‘Is that because I take your breath away?’

The corny line makes you half-groan, half-giggle once again as you lightly swat at his chest as best you can when in a human cage. ‘Stop it, you're so cheesy’, you mumble into his skin, trying to fight your growing smile on your face, but the dorky boy above you is far too cute for his own good, only making it harder for you to feign displeasure.

‘You know you love it’, he breathes out giddily, kissing the words into your neck as the remnants of his smile ghosts across your skin.

You ‘hmm’ in response, eyes drifting closed in content as Eddie’s hands ghost your sides in gentle caresses, his head still in your neck. The closeness of having his body against yours and the ever present heat your boyfriend seems to possess could send you to sleep, being in his arms is one of the few places you feel entirely safe.

It’s the feeling of a sharp corner digging into your thing that brings you out of your reverie. Eddie continues his movement, eyes shut and blissfully unaware that the box in his hand is touching your skin.

You nuzzle into his hair, the soft curls tickling your skin as you call his attention sweetly, ‘Eddie.’ All you receive is a grumble of what you assume to be ‘yeah’. This time you kiss his head, soft lips speaking against his skin, ‘Eddie, baby, why is there a box in your hand?’

The statement causes him to spring up from your neck, face dangerously close to yours as he grins at you with a glint in his eyes. ‘Oh this little thing,’ he gleams, presenting a small black box between you. You wriggle up from beneath him, Eddie moving with you so that you sit across from each other, legs crossed and hands held together between you as your fingers ghost the lid of the box.

There is curiosity in your expression that has Eddie’s heart melting, eyes wide and staring up at him as you whisper, ‘What is it honey?’

‘Go on, sweet thing,’ he places the box in your hand, thumb rubbing against the skin there, ‘Why don't you open it?’ he continues sweetly, a dimple kissing his cheek as the corner of his mouth quirks up in adoration.

With tentative hands you lift the lid from the small box, hands ghosting over cool metal as you pull out a silver ring, its face a large bat. Your eyes flick between the ring in your hand and those that litter Eddie’s fingers, and he swears he can see tears kissing your lash line.

He takes your silence as a sign of dislike and hurriedly tires to explain himself, ‘I- I know how much you like my rings,’ here he begins fiddling with them himself, ‘and I know how much comfort you get in playing with them,’ a hand stretches to the back of his neck in embarrassment, ‘ so I thought I’d get you one of your own, so you always have a piece of me with you.’

At that, tears really do fall down your face, your heart melting at how sweet and perceptive the boy in front of you is. Of course, it’s at this moment that Eddie flickers his gaze towards his lap, not witnessing the love in your eyes and instead thinking the worst at hearing your swiffles. ‘ I know it’s not really your style, I can take it back if you’d like’. He speaks softly, almost dejected, fearing he read into your fascination with his rings too much.

At that you throw yourself at him, hands winding around his neck, your face falling into the hollow of his throat, tears wetting the skin there. Eddie almost topples back from the sudden force, eyes growing wide in shock at your reaction. You pull back for a moment, ring perched between the fingers of one hand as you bring both to his face, the cool metal of the ring flush against his skin.

One of his own rests on your waist, the other gently rubbing the tears on your cheeks away with the pad of his thumb. ‘Eddie, honey,’ you almost choke on the words, too full of emotion to speak, ‘It matches your tattoo.’

It takes him a moment to register what you’re saying and then his face morphs to paint his widest grin yet, eyes crinkling and dimples cutting into his cheeks. In a rush of affection, he grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss, lips meeting in adoration and matching smiles. ‘God you’re too sweet’’ he breathes out, pecking your lips once more and pulling back to rub the last of your tears away.

Your lip pulls into a pout for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as you recall his prior reaction. ‘I can’t believe you thought I wouldn't like it!’ You push his hair back from his face and place your forehead against his, your voice flooding with the deepest of sincerity, ‘I love it so much, thank you,’ lips brushing over his for another sweet kiss ‘now, I have my own piece of Eddie to comfort me wherever I go.’

At that his heart melts just a little bit more, his smile printing against the soft skin of your lips. He reaches between you, prying the ring from between your fingers and slides it delicately over the knuckles of your right hands ring-finger. He brings it up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there and mumbling, ‘Have to save the other hand for an even more special ring.’

The words have you grinning like a fool, butterflies running rampant in your tummy as you grab his face for yet another kiss, too giddy and in love to stop. ‘Despite how much I love my little piece of Eddie,’ his thumb runs over the ring as you speak, mimicking your typical habit of playing with his own rings, ‘I do think that ring may just top it.’

You giggle as you lightly tease him, the thought of what you're both insinuating making you far too happy, and he chuckles in return, pulling you into his arms once more and returning his face to its home in the crook of your neck.

He presses feather-light kisses there, the sensation only eliciting more giggles from your lips, the sound one he could listen to forever. His finger brushes over your ring once more and he smirks against your neck, whispering endearingly, ‘It may not be your style, but I think you’ll look pretty metal.’

#eddie <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things x reader

[caitlinsnicket]

izzy hands sfw headcanons part 3

a/n: part 1 here, part 2 here. theres a lot more under the cut. its huge but i didnt want to make a thousand parts. have a nice meal

he has the habit of blowing things out of proportion, no matter how tiny and insignificant they are. he's dramatic and whiny, even theatrical at times, and something that never fails to get a reaction out of him is when you call it out

maybe he'll be screaming at the crew, saying that they should know how to clean a deck, threatening them with death or a beating, until you ask him what got his panties in a twist

he just stills. completely. no movement, just a frozen izzy in the middle of everyone, expecting his reaction. he just runs a hand thorugh his hair, moves his shoulders around and leaves the place without another word, dissapearing into his cabin

after a little while, you go to him and he's taken his outer clothing off, sitting on the bed and rubing his face with his hands. you go to him and hug him, massaging his shoulders next, caressing his hair until he melts onto you. he's just tired, and when he's tired he's dramatic

although sometimes, he's just dramatic for the sake of it, and then you allow it, entering in his rare shenanigans to humor him

his resigned smiles when you flirt with him are the best thing in the world, it never fails to make your heart flutter inside your chest

he has many different smiles, and as he learns to be more at ease with the crew, they become more frequent and bright. it makes you feel good, tha he's learning to become a functional person again, and that he's allowing other people to witness it

he has a habit of sitting on your lap. in the begining he was reluctant to do so (even though he wanted to), saying that he was no damsel that needed rescuing, but after the firsttime he did it in a tavern, drunk in booze and love, he's surrendered to his desires and now constantly rests on top of you

when you're eating at the table, when you're at stede's cabin, when you're just lounging on deck or having a party, he claims his place on your lap and rests there, his ungloved hand caressing your shoulders and back comfortably

because he gets more used to pda and relaxes more around the crew, he also gets more comfortable with touching them casually, like showing someone how to do a specific knot or teaching them how to fight in a specific way

he gives hugs (rarely and quickly though) and gentle taps on shoulders, ruffles hairs and taps knees. he's taken the role of the resigned father, and even though he'll never admit it, he's very happy to be this figure to everyone

although, sometimes he'll get overwhelmed with feelings and just cuss everyone out in an attempt to stop the ache in his chest. he calls you twat, cocksucker, idiot, and other variations, but there's no real venom behind his words. just a fear of closeness that he clearly doesn't want to feel

when hugging, he begins stiff, barely touching you back, and then suddenly he just melts, nose buried on your neck, his eyes closed and his eyebrows creased, leaning on you to the point he's almost put all his body weight on you

he needs these touches, these cuddles and hugs to recharge after a long day of piracy and ordering around. with the way the capitans act, he might as well be the one in charge, and it wears him out. sometimes all he needs to keep going is for you to pull him to a corner and engulf him with your arms for a while, in complete silence, just so he can ground himself better and feel good enough to go back to work

sometimes when the two of you are kissing, he'll just pull back, his hands on your shoulders, and just look at you for a moment, scanning your face as if to commit it to memory, and then he goes back in, taking your breath away. it's like can't get enough of you

izzy is a conflicted man, and at times, it feels like he's sorry for loving you. like he's apologising for his feelings, like he feels guilty for being devoted to you. "I... love you". he says it as if it's an inconvenience, as if he's trying to warn you that this is happening. like it doesn't need saying, and it's a mistake to actually put it out there

so tell him you love him back, reassure him, make him feel good about loving you, encourage him to put himself out there and he'll learn to see his feelings as a gift, and not as a disease

he often feels that he's not good, that he's an infection and that you shouldn't get too close or you'll get sick too. but when you tell him again all the good things he's done, all the lovely feelings you have for him and how he's entitled to not having good days and being angry, he almost believes it. and for now, that's enough

at first you don't ask him about his scars, thinking it might set him off or make him defensive, but one day he asks about yours, and you tentatively ask him about one on his cheek. he tells you gladly, even cracking a joke or two, and you feel more confident to ask him about it

so one day the two of you are laying in bed and he sits up, getting ready to go on about his days, and you run your fingers on his back scars. the question tingles on the tip of your tongue, but you don't say it. instead, with a soft raspy voice, he questions you. "would you like to know?". and so he tells you all the gruesome details and sad parts, and he doesn't let any of it out

he's scared that you'll see him differently, but you just hug him from behind, kissing his shoulders and the scars you can reach, earning a low chuckle from deep in his chest. you reassure him and pull him back in the bed, keeping him there for a while before you allow him to go to work

when he takes up on wearing feminine, soft clothing, it's a whole thing between the two of you. you steal some stuff from stede, maybe you already had it before joining the crew, and one day after he's taken a bath he sees it and he just puts it on, in an attempt to be sexy and seduce you

but it just shifts something in his brain, he finds out how much he loves soft, delicate fabrics rubbing on his skin, and then he starts stealing your clothes. it sparks an awkward conversation between the two of you, until you just tell him that he can wear your stuff whenever you want, and that you'd like to buy him more delicate stuff

next time you're on land, you buy him more soft stuff, and you decide to take a corset too. you show it to him and say he doesn't have to wear it, but you thought he might like it and so there it is

he just feels so overwhelmed with the care and consideration you have for him that his cheeks get extremely warm, and he almost cries when he tries it on for the first time. he looks absolutely dashing, and he feels like it, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen

he's a little hesitant in wearing these things in front of the crew, but many conversations with you, wee john and jim manage to get him out of his shell and he just flourishes after that. he wears a mix of dresses and leather and soft fabrics and lace and fixes his hair in a way that makes him feel cute and no one respects him less for it. he's still the feared first mate, best swordsman ever known

and after a little while he starts experimenting with makeup, with the help of wee john, and so he starts training on you and he finds out that he's a great artist. he doesn't do it fancy all the time, but in special ocasions he goes overboard and oh boy. it's the brightest he's ever smiled

tell him he deserves soft and beautiful things

he's always worn leather, but now he wears more feminine cuts and special corsets that make his chest puff out even more than normal. it makes you foam at the mouth, and when he really wants to tease people, he gets dressed completely in leather and strings, swaying his hips as he walks away with a smirk

sometimes he'll catch you staring at his tattoos and he wonders what you think about them, if you wonder about the circumstances that originated them, if you'd like him to talk about it. he doesn't ask. he also wonders what kind of tattoo you'd give him, and the idea of having you permanently inked on his skin sends chills down his spine

if you're the same height he likes that you're always at the same level, and it's more likely that he'll give you cheek kisses. if he's taller than you (its possible people), he'll always kiss your forehead, and it gives him a buzz of power that you have to look at him through your eyelashes. if you're taller than him, he'll kiss your chin and tuck his head under it, and he'll swoon at how you look at him from above

slut

praise him constantly, you'll see how good it makes him feel. praise him for the little things and the big things too. he specially likes it when you watch him train and you start praising him for his fighting skills, his strength and his body. he'll finish his training beaming and with a light flush on his cheeks

#imagine #headcanons #our flag means death #our flag means death fanfiction #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd x reader #our flag means death x reader #izzy hands #israel hands #izzy hands x reader #israel hands x reader #izzy hands imagine #israel hands imagine

[chvnnie]

is there a possibility for the other side of rec. where the members watch the stream fully or maybe some other smut similar to the idea? ☆

LIVE!

3RACHA x reader x lee minho

part two of [rec.]

word count: 2.8k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: voyeur 3RACHA, cam girl reader, sub!jisung, dom!minho, live streamed sex, use of toys, masturbation, dirty talk, anal, oral fixation, use of word: slut, jisung struggling with his feelings, lots of cum play and mention. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: something about this stream is far too familiar for comfort

a/n: when i say i started writing this the MOMENT i got this request. just thinking about how 3RACHA, but specifically jisung, would react to this made my head spin. thank you so much for this request, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents bang chan, seo changbin, han jisung, or lee minho as people, or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables (imu), @rachalixie, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @dnadoublefelixx

Jisung fell face first on his bed, groaning from the start of the fall to the second his face hit the pillow and then some. Exhausted wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt. His limbs were heavy, eyes barely open, mouth drooping every few minutes as his body tried to push him into a state of unconsciousness.

Man, what a day. He’s been at the company for hours, bouncing between dance practices and writing sessions, not to mention the hour-long training session he and Changbin had at about noon. It was go, go, go all day long, not even a moment to stop and breathe.

Well, maybe like, a short moment of relief. But Jisung didn’t even get to feel it - only his friends jerked off to the stream in Chan’s studio. It’s not like he didn’t want to, it was all he wanted, but he was too caught up in the way you fucked yourself to look away. He didn’t want to miss a single second of it.

Jisung’s plan was to run to an empty practice room after the stream to finish himself off, but was pulled elsewhere to run through lyrics with Seungmin. After that, he was supposed to have a meeting with Minho to review choreo, but he was nowhere to be found, so Jisung decided to call it a day.

All he wanted was sleep.

And he was so close to it, too.

His thoughts began to lose control, the scenarios in his head becoming more and more unhinged as sleep wrapped its arms around him and slowly began to tug him in-

The ping of a notification, with the added “JISUUUUNNNGGG” Changbin was belting from the living room ripped him out of the comforting arms of rest. He began to groan, again, tears of frustration and exhaustion welling in his eyes.

“SHE’S LIVE!” It was Chan this time.

Jisung reached for his phone, the bright blue lights filling his dark room.

Live Now! Tap to Tune In!

Well, he was up now.

Jisung pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head before sluggishly slinking out of his bedroom. From the living room, he could hear Chan cursing as he tried to set up the television for the stream, and Changbin telling him to go faster.

Maybe he would be better off to watch it alone in his room. Then he could at least cum in peace.

But as soon as his feet crossed the threshold into the living room, as soon as he heard your muffled moans, Jisung was frozen in place for the second time today.

The wide screen television showed you in the center, sitting between a man’s legs. All Jisung could see of your faces were your chins, and by the movements of them, he assumed the two of you were kissing. And you liked it; Jisung was sure if your lips weren’t attached to his, he would be able to hear every sound you made.

Oh, fuck, just the idea of that made him dizzy.

Jisung leaned against the archway of the living room entrance, needing to balance himself on something. Chan sat in the recliner at the very edge, hand cupping his chin while the other dug nails into his thigh. Changbin sat on the couch, slouched down with his cock already out, slowly pumping while he stayed focused on the screen.

“God, look at her.” Chan’s hand creeped up his thigh, now grasping his growing length above his sweats. “So pretty in those white panties. I bet-“

Skin colliding with skin filled the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. All three of the men’s eyes grew wide, the slap on your thigh succeeding in making them all impossibly hard.

“Look at how she squirms.” Changbin hissed as his grip tightened. “She fucking liked that-“

Changbin’s words went through one of Jisung’s ears and out the other. He was instead focused on the man in the stream. Those joggers looked familiar - the heather grey with black speckles, the logo, even the strings that tightened them looked just like a pair Jisung owned.

A pair he loaned to Minho months ago and hasn’t seen since.

It can’t be Minho. It couldn’t be Minho. Right?

“Please? Need something, anything-“

Your begs filled the living room, Chan now leaning back in the recliner as he groaned at the sound of them. He still had yet to pull his length out, tugging firmly on it over his clothing. Changbin was now alternating the speed of his fist; faster when you spoke, slower when it was silent. Jisung’s cock was suffocating in his shorts, but he couldn’t bring himself to relieve the tension. Something was eerily familiar about this, and until he figured it out, he refused to touch himself.

The man shoved his fingers in your mouth, and Jisung watched as you immediately sucked on them. Your lips curved into a smile as you gagged, and god dammit, why couldn’t he just get off?

“You can be so fucking annoying when you beg. Did you know that?”

Changbin cursed as he threw his head back, dangerously close to exploding before anything really happened. Chan was mumbling under his breath about how pretty you looked choking on the man’s fingers, wagering that you would look better with his cock down your throat.

But it was that sentence. That fucking sentence that sent Jisung over the edge.

He patted his pockets in search of his phone, shaking when he finally found it. Jisung thanked every being for autocorrect, because without it, his text would have made no sense.

Jisung: [20:04] hey, you busy?

It wasn’t much, but the sound of a ringtone on the stream was what Jisung needed.

Confirmation that it was Minho in the stream, currently ridding you of the damp material on your hips. When your core was exposed, Changbin finished in his hand. With no embarrassment, he used his cum to lubricate his cock, hissing as he made himself hard again. Chan took your lack of undergarments as permission to rid himself of his, hard cock bouncing on his abs. He mimicked the pace Minho was using in his folds, likely imagining it was his cock against your core and not those fingers.

Should Jisung tell them? He felt like they should know it’s Minho on the screen, but how would he bring it up. Hey so that stranger fucking our favorite cam girl? Yeah, that’s one of our closest friends. And, besides, right now hardly seemed like a good time to drop that bombshell on them.

“Should I fuck you with my cock, or that pretty glass dildo you used earlier?”

Both of his friends groaned simultaneously, drowning out the giggle that flooded through the speakers. Seriously, could they not tell? Were they that fucking pussy dumb not to realize?

“Ji.” Chan’s firm tone broke his concentration, making him look at his friend. “Are you really not going to touch yourself again?”

“Oh. I-um-“ His eyes floated back to the screen just in time to see you pulling Minho’s cock out. Oh my god, that’s Minho’s cock. Jisung had seen it numerous times before, but never in this setting. Never like this. How the fuck is he supposed to react? “Ma-maybe later.”

“Suit your- oh fuck.”

His eyes jumped back to the screen, jaw dropping as he watched Minho deep throat the glass toy that was in you just hours before. You had a similar expression on your face: one of disbelief, one of arousal. It was then Jisung found his hand on his cock, squeezing it over the fabric of his shorts so hard, he wouldn’t be surprised if it lost circulation.

There wasn’t much time for him to take in the sight as Minho quickly began fucking you with it. But the scene was burned into Jisung’s brain. He saw it when he blinked, cock aching for some kind of relief just thinking about it. You looked divine. Jisung had always thought that - he was the number one donor for a reason. But something about Minho made this stream so much better, and made Jisung more needy.

His head hit the doorway frame as he shoved his shorts down enough to release his cock. There was too much happening - he couldn’t stop staring at how pretty you looked with all your holes stuffed, but also couldn’t look away from Minho’s length ramming into your ass. You said something to Minho, who quickly removed his fingers to hear you better.

“Harder.”

When Minho’s pace picked up, Changbin came again. He cursed under his breath, but refused to pull away. Shirt and jeans stained in his cum, Changbin continued the rhythm his fist set as his eyes began to water with overstimulation. Chan, on the other hand, had completely stopped, back arching as he attempted to get a control over his breathing. It was almost like he was edging himself, refusing to cum until you did. And there stood Jisung, in a trance, jerking himself off in a way that felt pleasurable to him. Because he didn’t matter. He didn’t care when or if he came, only caring that you and Minho did.

“Look at me while you cum like the pretty slut you are.”

Goosebumps rose over Jisung’s skin, his entire body shivering at Minho’s words. He knew they were directed at you, but fuck, when he closed his eyes, all he could see was his friend saying it to him.

“Oh my God. Fucking cum on that dick, Jesus Christ-“ Chan cursed as he reached his breaking point, cumming hard all over himself. Changbin sobbed as he came for a third time, dropping his member as if it was on first as a small amount of semen pushed out of the tip. Both men stared at the tv, sweaty with stars in their eyes as they watched you reach your high and begin your come down.

Jisung, however, had yet to cum, and was more focused on the way Minho was smearing his across your folds. Did he always do that to you? How often did he cover you with his cum? If Jisung asked nice enough, would he do the same to him?

The stream ended as abruptly as it began.

The Stream Has Ended. “Cum” Back Next Time!

Jisung’s ears were ringing, body shaking as he attempted to take in the past thirty minutes. He was exhausted. He had no drive left, no energy to make himself cum.

But then he blinked, and a brief image of Minho cumming on his cock flash passed his eyelids, and he found himself aching all over again.

It was almost impossible to believe that the girl Jisung had wanted most just got fucked by the man he wanted the most, and he had watched the entire thing. Envy filled his chest, though he didn’t know who he was more jealous of.

“…have you, Jisung?” Changbin shook Jisung out of his thoughts, voice raw from his multiple orgasms.

“Huh? Have I, what?” Jisung was now very aware that he was the only one with his cock still out, hiding it away with still shaky hands.

“Ever seen her stream with someone else? You’ve been watching her longer than we have, so we figured you might know.”

“Oh.” Jisung found himself at a loss for words, something that rarely happened to him. No, he had never seen you stream with someone else, but this wasn’t just anyone. That was what was the most important part of this. But, did he tell them? Or did he keep it to himself?

Jisung swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He brought his palms to his eyes, rubbing the heel of it against them as he tried to collect his thoughts. Jisung rubbed and rubbed until fireworks exploded in the black abyss, drowning out all the filthy thoughts he was having about you.

About Minho.

“No.” He groaned, dropping his hands. “I haven’t.”

Changbin then turned to Chan, the two of them beginning to debrief what they just witnessed. Typically, when they watched your streams together, which was often, Jisung would stay and weigh in. For reasons only obvious to himself, he could not do that tonight, quickly retreating to his bedroom when the focus was off of him.

His bottoms were almost fully off before he even shut his bedroom door. Jisung held a fist to his mouth, whining as he began to masturbate more aggressively than he ever had before. He was desperate for a release. Desperate to be the one filling you up instead of Minho. Desperate to be the one covered in his cum instead of you.

Jisung had always hid the fact that he was head over heels for an anonymous cam girl - he didn’t even know the color of your eyes, yet would do absolutely anything for you, and you didn’t even have to ask him nicely. He had also successfully hidden his feelings for his best friend. So much so that Jisung himself wasn’t even fully aware of the grip Minho had on him. Until tonight, that is. Until he watched him fuck you in his joggers.

It felt personal. Almost like Minho wanted him to know it was him. After all, he knew Jisung never missed a stream.

“Ah, fuck, fuck.” Jisung whined, tears falling down his cheek as his high rapidly approached. He cried your name out (at least, the name that was on your profile. Who even knew if it was your real name? And yet he still acts like this.), followed quickly by Minho’s. “Please, please let me cum. Fuck, wanna-wanna-“

It was pathetic, the way he begged into his dark bedroom as if either of you were there. Yet, he still did. He felt it inappropriate to not beg for it, as if jerking off to his best friend and a stranger wasn’t bad enough.

Hot streaks of cum spurted out of him, covering his fist and thighs in the sticky substance. Jisung cried through the entirety of his orgasm, unable to stop the sad whimpers that left his lips.

Cleaning up could wait. He was so fucking exhausted.

Jisung didn’t even bother pulling his shorts up before flopping on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, chest rapidly rising and falling as he slowly began to drift off.

Sleep. Rest. That’s what Jisung needed. Just a few hours of unconsciousness, then he could address the problem of his feelings and the cum that was already beginning to dry.

His phone rang.

Of course.

Without even looking up, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, sticky hands accepting the call. Fuck, now he would have to get up and wash off, considering he could feel his cum against his cheek now. “What?”

“Wow, hello to you, too.” Minho’s playful tone flowed out of the phone speaker, echoing in Jisung’s practically hollow head. “You know, you should really answer the phone more respectfully. It makes you seem more approachable.”

“Fuck off.” Jisung mumbled, Minho chuckling at his fucked out tone. Could Minho tell? Did he know Jisung just came so hard to the thought of him? “What do you want?”

“I responded to your text, but you didn’t answer so I thought I’d call. Sorry, I was busy when you texted me but I’m not now. Did you need something?”

When he texted him? What was he-

Oh.

That.

Jisung’s eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake. Oh fuck, he forgot he had texted him. What was he going to say? What excuse could he come up when his brain was currently empty and covered in cobwebs?

“I-uh-I was just-“ Jisung sighed, deciding that he was in no state to come up with some bullshit excuse. “I forgot.”

Minho chuckled again, and Jisung could just see his stupid smirk. The menacing one he always gave when he was one step ahead, when he knew something someone else didn’t.

He fucking knew. Of course Minho fucking knew.

“Tired, Ji?” His tone was evil, condescending as he spoke. “You sound like you’ve had a rough night.”

“Just a busy day.” He was grateful this conversation was happening over the phone and not face to face. Jisung could never hide from Minho - he read him like his favorite book.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No he fucking wasn’t. “You should get some rest, Jisung. Cumming to your best friend and his fuck buddy must really be draining if you can’t even speak without whining.”

The groan Jisung let out was pathetic, only making Minho laugh harder. “How did you know I knew?”

“You’re not stupid, Ji. Although you do look cute when you get so horny, your brain empties. Is that what you looked like tonight? Dumb and hard? Was it for me, or her?”

Jisung whimpered, not knowing how to respond. Minho had completely flipped on him - his playful tone quickly becoming demanding, and Jisung couldn’t help but want to immediately bend to his will.

When Jisung didn’t respond, Minho continued.

“You have two options. You can either pathetically jerk yourself off again, all alone in your bedroom, or-“ his phone pinged in his ear, alerting him of a text. “-you can come over and let me make both of you my little cum sluts.”

©: chvnnie 2022

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #3RACHA smut #sub skz #dom skz

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A week in and you’re… efficient. Rather, self-sufficient. You can’t say you’re confident but you are starting to figure it out.

The till isn’t so confounding and the customers not so intimidating. It’s easy enough to ask how their day is, if they found everything, and get the rung through. You’ve learned quickly if only to keep Giselle from rolling her eyes at you.

That day, you’re closing. Less than an hour now and you walk the floor, checking for any errant customers to remind them of the coming deadline. There aren’t many, a tall college student wandering through the history section and a couple of older men chatting over a stack of Stephen King classics.

You head down the rear all and feel the buzz in your pocket. You ignore it. Any calls you’re getting, you’re in no hurry to answer. You sigh and pass an aisle, movement twitching at the edge but you don’t bother looking over.

As you get to the next row, you hear your name. You turn back as you see the man’s head just over the top of the shelf before he turns down the same aisle. He must be the speck you ignored.

“Oh, hi,” you smile, wiping away your worries; you’re at work. “Jonathan, right?”

“You remember,” he preens, “I was hoping you’d be around.”

“You… were?” You hesitate. Your phone buzzes. A short jitter signaling a voicemail.

“Ah, yes, I was hoping for some advice,” he puts his hand on the slender wall of the shelf, “I am gift hunting and I can’t seem to pin down an idea. I thought most people love a book but I fear choosing something utterly boring.”

“Oh, well, uh, who are we buying for?” You wonder.

“She’s about your age, I think. So I thought…”

He’s married. Of course, why wouldn’t he be. You don’t know why that disappoints you. It shouldn’t. He’s only friendly and you’re a poor divorcee. Another buzz in your pocket.

“Well, you could get her a nice bookmark and maybe a cookbook?” You had loved your cookbooks. You miss them dearly.

“Mmm, she doesn’t do much cooking. More the type to order in or eat out,” he pulls his hand back and crosses one arm over his chest, bending the other to tap his chin.

“Does she sew? Or do any crafts?” You prod, searching for options. “Or maybe she likes fashion?”

“She does spend a lot on clothes,” he chuckles.

“Well, if you’d rather a novel, you really can’t go wrong with a thriller. They tend to be fast-paced and easy to read.”

He nods thoughtfully and drops his arms, pushing back his jacket as he slides his hands into his pants, “do you like them?”

“Like… what?”

“Thrillers? Perhaps you have a specific suggestion?”

“Ah, well, John Grisham. He’s always good,” you turn, “I’ll show you where they are.”

“Thank you. Always helpful, darling.”

You’re happy he can’t see your face. That last word makes your chest twinge. He’s so nice. It makes you sad to think you would never have one of those. A nice man. Your pants buzz again.

“Why don’t you have a look,” you present the books with a wave, “and I’ll be back to answer any questions you have. I just need to finish my walk through.”

“Certainly,” he agrees, reaching to trace a fingertip down the spine of a book.

You smile and rush away. You’re just going to turn your phone on silent and deal with it later. As you peek at the screen, you see the same name, over and over. What could he want?

You scroll through the onslaught of Andy’s messages. It’s just like living with him. It never stops. His last text is all caps; CALL ME.

You reply, ‘working for fifteen more minutes. Can’t.’

“You didn’t get too far,” Jonathan startles you and you quickly slide your phone away, “what do you think of this one?”

He holds up a copy of The Whistler. You nod, “it’s not bad. Main character is a woman, so probably a good choice for them.”

“Wonderful, and you suggested a bookmark?”

“Yes, er, over here,” you beckon him onward and take him to the swiveling rack of bookmarks, “these ones are especially nice, I think.”

You point to the thick leather bookmarks with the tassel strings attached and a few charms at the end. He leans in and examines the different colours. He clucks, “I really can be indecisive. If I recall,” he unhooks the same style you suggested, “she was preferable to pink.”

“Great,” you declare, “perfect gift.”

“Hope so,” he agrees, “I’m sorry, am I keeping you? You’re eager to be rid of me.”

“No, not at all, I didn’t mean to hurry you,” you assure him, “I’m sorry. It’s been a very long day and–”

“And you’ve been on your feet. You must be tired,” he suggests, but not in a sarcastic way. “I forget it is so late.”

“Really, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to come off as sharp.”

“Relax,” he taps his knuckles on the book, “you’ve been a wonderful help. Really. I’ll be sure to put your name on the survey.”

“Uh, thanks,” you swallow, “have a good night.”

“You as well,” he raises his handful and nods before striding off.

You groan, cringing as your chest threatens to cave in on itself. Why are you so awkward? You’re so bad at this job. Like everything else.

There’s a scratchy noise. It catches your ear and you swear, it sounds just like your name. Shit! You pull out your phone, the timer is ticking. You must have pocket-dialed. You bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” Andy booms, “Christ. We have something important to talk about.”

“Right, I told you, I’m at work–”

“You called me. Don’t waste my time. My mother’s birthday–”

“Andy, we’re not married anymore.”

“I know that. She asked me to tell you she wants you at her party. She always liked you. For whatever reason.”

You don’t take the bait. You don’t have to please him anymore. He filed for divorce, he made that choice.

“I’ll check my schedule–”

“Who were you talking to?” He interrupts.

“A customer,” you keep your voice down, “speaking of, I need to get back–”

“You were real nice to him, weren’t you?”

“Good night, Andy.”

You hang up. You don’t know how he’s still paranoid when you’re not even together. Jackass.

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #drabble #au #series #bookstore au #the night manager #helping hand

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 12 - Prompt: Question @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 624 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Sirius looked over his shoulder with a smug grin and an arched eyebrow. He’d clearly caught Remus’s avid nodding at his admission. Remus smirked back at him, trying to ignore the twist in his gut every time Sirius smiled at him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said.

Remus blinked rapidly, then nodded again. “Go on.”

“Do you like living here?”

Of all the inquiries that Sirius could aim his way, that was one that Remus wasn’t expecting. Based solely on the bloke’s tendency to stare at his scars, he was preparing for a little deflection of his own. Instead, he had to abruptly redirect his line of thought. He lived here because his parents did. It wasn’t an intentional decision on his part to be born in this specific town. Although, he supposed staying here was a choice.

“Not especially. I’ve just never had a compelling reason to leave. My parents live here, and so does Lily.”

“Not for long!” Lily interjected, pointing at him. “Only a matter of time before I leave you for London.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Sure. You’ve been saying that for literal years, Lily. I think you’re stuck with me.”

“Nonsense! I just haven’t squirrelled away enough money yet.”

“I’ll hide in your luggage.”

Lily puffed air through her teeth. “Pfft, I’d like to see you try.”

“You have a lot of clothes to pack, I think I could manage it.”

Sirius glanced between them and laughed. “You two are as codependent as me and James.”

“Maybe more,” Lily said. “We grew up together. Remus is the brother I never needed.”

“And you’re the sister I didn’t want,” he snarked, dodging her hand swatting at him.

“Oh hush. You love me.”

Remus increased his stride and draped his forearms on her shoulders. “Now that’s true, but you can be bloody annoying.”

“Only because I’m always right.”

“Disturbingly so. You should be a fortune teller.”

Sirius watched him and Lily banter with a delighted grin on his face. His eyes flashed with an emotion Remus couldn’t quite identify at first. If he was pressed for a guess, he’d say…nostalgia. It was similar to the way that Lily watched Padfoot bound from the sand to the sea, likely thinking about her childhood dog, Rhett.

“I would rather read palms. That way, if they don’t like my predictions, I can say, ‘I’m simply reading what it says in your life line, darling,’” Lily said, adopting a deep, dramatic American accent. It reminded him a little of Judy Garland, his mum’s favourite.

“Clever. Plausible deniability.” Remus tapped her temple lightly. “You always think two steps ahead.”

Sirius’s pace slowed until he matched Remus’s stride. He ignored it. Remus didn’t want to expose how deeply he was already invested in Sirius’s every movement, facial expression, and the intonation of his voice. Not until he knew for sure that Sirius was actually interested. Otherwise, Lily said it was just a bit creepy.

I mean, I did look-up his social media last night. Maybe it’s time to embrace that I am a bit creepy.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, his creepy cyber stalking or the obsessive mental dossier he’d assembled of everything he’d learned about the man. At least he acknowledged the need to conceal it. People did tend to find his fixations strange unless they were dating. Then, it was “romantic” and “thoughtful” that he could recall their favourite childhood television show that was mentioned off-handedly two years ago.

It was an unusual skill, to be fair. Remus thought he would have been quite good on those old newlywed game shows. Even if they weren’t married, he’d get every question right.

I know who you are. I just wish you’d see me too.

Next Part>>>

#the marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #lily evans #wolfstar microfic

[throneofsapphics]

hey hey hey!!! i'm back!!! i was with my family, so i haven't been so active, but now im home again!! ❤️‍🩹 hope you're safe and happy!!

so i was thinking what i could request, and i have just read your feysand x reader where feyre and reader get piercings (it was a masterpiece 🫶🏻)

so i was thinking of this; rowaelin x reader where reader gets a tattoo (something significant to the three of them), but rowaelin has no idea.

pd; stay healthy, eat well, sleep well, don't stress, and BE HAPPY 🧡🫶🏻

fresh ink

Summary: Reader gets a tattoo

Warnings: none 

A/N: ah I’m glad you liked it! thank you for the request :) I hope you’re doing well!

You’d been thinking about a tattoo for a long time, and ran through different ideas in your mind, even sketching them out on paper sometimes. It took you months, but you decided on getting the constellation of the Lord of the North. It just felt right, in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 

Rowan and Aelin were away for the weekend, and you built up the nerve to finally do it. Rowan, when he found out - and you had no doubt he would eventually, could be offended you went to anyone else to have it done. But, you trusted your friend and they’d been tattooing for years. Maybe the tattoo was a bit too permanent, but you could always spin it off as being just for Terrasen. 

-

“What did you do?” Rowan asked, ten minutes after they returned from their trip. 

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Aelin looked back and forth between the two of you. 

“You have that look on your face.” 

“Rowan,” Aelin said sweetly, and his head snapped towards her in alarm. “Shut up.”

His eyes narrowed, but she crossed the room and tugged you into another hug. You leaned into her, breathing in her scent. She chuckled, running her hand over the back of your head. You winked at him from over her shoulder. His eyes rolled but his lips quirked up at the corners. 

Later that night, you were stretched out on the couch, your head in Aelin’s lap. Her nails were digging into your scalp, and you felt your body unwind slowly, each muscle relaxing subconsciously. She tapped on your cheek, and you turned on your back so you could look up and face her. 

“Yes?” 

“What did you do?” 

You groaned, and heard weight shifting. Apparently her question had caught Rowan’s attention as well. “Do you need a play-by-play of my whole week?” You teased her, flicking her nose. 

“I’m only curious,” she swatted your hand away. “He’s right, you know, about that look.” 

You gasped in fake shock, sitting up quickly to look at Rowan. “You might never hear that again. Aelin admitted someone else is right." The female in question let out a disgruntled noise.

He snorted. “You’re avoiding her question.” 

“I’ve done many things, you’ll have to be more specific.” 

A muscle in his jaw flexed, and you fought back your grin. Pushing his buttons was one of your favorite past-times. 

“Just tell us.” Aelin said, reaching out her arm to pull you back closer to her. You winced as her hand brushed against your ribs. Right over the still sore spot. 

Rowan’s eyes gleamed as he caught the movement, and he rose, stalking across the room. 

“Lift your shirt.” 

“Buy me dinner first.” You muttered, ignoring him and laying back down on Aelin’s lap. That was the wrong move because she quickly slid the fabric up your side, you shivered and jumped as the cold air hit you, but one hand pinned you down as she peered over to look at it. 

“Is that the Lord of the North?” 

She ran her finger over the spot, and you batted her hand away. “It’s sore,” you hissed at her. 

“I like it,” she carefully lowered your shirt, avoiding brushing directly against the new ink. “Does the professional have an opinion?” 

Silence filled the room for a few moments. “You could have asked me.” Thankfully, he didn’t sound hurt necessarily, maybe a bit jealous but not hurt over it. 

“I would have lost my nerve,” you admitted. And asking him to do a tattoo that represented the three of you felt too overwhelming. 

“If you want any more, come to me.” He turned, heading back towards his seat. “It looks nice,” he said over his shoulder, barely loud enough for you to hear. 

"He's jealous," Aelin teased, "he wants his ink on you."

She squawked as a gust of icy wind hit her face, and you instinctively brought both of your arms up to cover your head, feeling the heat of flames brushing over the top of you a second later.

#rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass drabble #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #poly!rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader