#stand by for your second top 5 question

[byuntrash101]

big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

#bangchan smut #bangchan #christopher bang #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 10)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Everything was white. Pristine white. 

You couldn’t be blind, but no one would blame you for entertaining the idea as nothing but white stretched beyond your gaze.

Unending white. 

Uncanny. White. 

“Hello?” You asked the white abyss. Your call echoed out and back in, the way you imagined sound would echo in a canyon. 

“Hello!” 

You screamed, jumping up at the new voice coming from somewhere high above you. You tried to pinpoint where it came from, staring up at what you hoped was the sky before things slowly materialized. 

Pastel pinks, oranges and soft blues bled into the white, adding definition to what had once been literally nothing. The whiteness remained in the shape of buoyant, fluffy clouds pillowing all around you. 

“Over here!” The voice chimed. “Oh no, here! You’re getting warmer! Almost there!”

After circling around like a dog after your own tail, you finally found the source. Behind you rose a ginormous golden gate, gleaming beneath an electric-looking, all-seeing eye.

 And at its entrance towered a gold and platinum podium. 

A very… well, there was no other way to say it — a very white man with swooping blond hair eyed you from the top of the podium, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Hiya! Welcome!” The man said. “You’re right on time!” 

“Uh, okay…?” You replied. 

Without a hitch, the blond lifted up a large tome and began flicking through the pages. In the meantime, you stood there awkwardly, a question on the very tip of your tongue. 

“Wh-um, where am I, exactly?” You finally asked. 

“Why, you’re in Heaven of course!” He stated jovially before turning the book around and tapping on a name. “This is you, correct?”

Your name stared back at you in a glowing golden font, all pretty and shiny — 

And underlined? 

“Yeah.” You blinked. “Wait, did you just say Heaven?”

“Mm-hm, yep! And if I could just get you to stand right here at the center of the platform, that’d be great.” 

An elevated slab of pure gold rose from the clouds beneath your feet a little ways ahead of you. Timidly, you made your way over and onto the platform as instructed. You were pleasantly surprised at the instant warmth that met the bottoms of your bare feet. 

“Pe-rr-fect!” With a flap of suddenly conjured wings, the gatekeeper floated down to hover right beside you. “Now, we just wait for Emily. She should be here in 3, 2, 1… .5 — ”

A loud clang startled you out of your skin for the second time, and you whipped around to face the woman that had spontaneously appeared in front of you.

She panted. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to be late!” 

The golden gates pulled back to reveal the white-haired newcomer in all her splendor. This other angel was bedecked in a floor-length white gown to match her downy-white hair and periwinkle-grey skin dotted with white freckles. A halo hung over her head, casting an eternal light over her large, bluish eyes that sparkled with mirth. 

Like the gatekeeping angel, her wings flapped behind her, but you noted how they seemed to flutter nervously. Or perhaps excitedly? 

“Welcome to Heaven!” She opened her arms toward you. “We’re so glad you’re here! I’m Emily, but you can call me Emmy, or E, or Millie. Whatever you want!” 

You waved dazedly. “Hi.” 

Emily stopped short of touching you, despite looking like she was about to wrap her arms around you in a hug. Instead, the angel bit her lower lip as she stared at you. 

“I really am sorry I was late. I got caught up talking with Sera, making sure everything was all ready for your arrival.” She gushed. “Thank you for greeting her, Peter!” 

Peter brightened. “Of course.” 

Emily turned back to you, buzzing with anticipation like a bumblebee. “Anyway, I’m sure you have tons of questions! No worries at all! I’m here to give you a tour and show you around your new home!”

You cautiously took the hand offered to you, and let yourself be led through the golden gate. 

— 

Heaven was very beautiful, and very clean. The polished golden floors and beautifully-crafted architecture, complete with smiling people of all races, sexes and species didn’t unwrench you from a nagging sense of confusion however. 

“Um. Emily?” You asked your companion — well, one of your companions. Peter had elected to join the two of you on your tour, commenting that he’d gotten someone to cover his eternal shift at the gate for the next few hours. 

“Yes! Yes?” She smiled at you encouragingly. No doubt, your silence, while it had not stopped her constant chatter, had been a downer in as far as engagement. 

“I’m… dead. Right?” You asked. “I mean that’s how one gets to Heaven, so obviously I am… right?”

The mood turned down at that, with Emily turning morose. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” 

“Okay, good. I mean — I’m dead, but I’m having a hard time remembering h-how it… happened.” You admitted, embarrassed. And a little afraid, if you were honest with yourself. “Is that… normal?”

Emily and Peter stopped on either side of you, twin looks of confusion on their poreless faces. 

Peter was quicker to recover. “Oh that can happen sometimes! Dying can be a very traumatic thing for the soul.” 

Emily seemed hesitant for the first time since you’d met her, but with a look from Peter, she seemed to gain resolve. “Yes, yeah. Lots of people forget… but you’ll remember in time, I’m sure!”

“But wait!” Emily gasped. “We could ask Sera about it!” 

She clapped her hands together joyfully, while Peter’s expression teetered on uncertainty. 

“Uh, Em? I don’t think —” 

“We were headed her way anyway.” Emily nodded as if affirming her own plan. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help us figure this out!”

The angel yanked you forward in her quest to get to Sera (whoever that was) and had you stumbling on pure fluff to catch up with her. 

Many angels raced to get out of the way as Peter called out in alarm, but apart from shouldering a particularly tall angel clad in a chasuble, you were unable to stop or slow down. 

—

“Hello child.”

The Seraphim (“Sera.” Emily had urged) was so large that you had to crane your neck up to see her face. 

She was beautiful in the most ethereal way. To look upon her was to look at a celestial body and feel your own insignificance dragging you down and swallowing you whole. 

Your surroundings — a gold and white antechamber with delicately carved archways and a grand war table in its center — did not help. 

Emily laid a hand on your shoulder with concern before you realized that you’d been paralyzed by the scene before you and had yet to say a word.

You stuttered a hello, and Sera’s stoney face softened into an understanding smile. “Be not afraid, my friend. I mean no harm.” 

You returned the smile, albeit shakily. 

Emily squeezed your shoulder. “Sera? We have a question.”

The Seraphim gestured with open palms. 

“Well, we were going around Heaven, and just kind of talking before um… well…”

“Emily, dear. Please speak up.” Sera’s command was gentle but firm.

Emily bounced in her spot, unable to keep herself from floating up from the ground. 

“Shesaysshedoesn’trememberhowshegothere!” She blurted out.

You and Sera both stared at Emily for a long moment, trying to process what exactly she had said. Sera had opened her mouth once more before the grand entrance into the committee room was slammed open and all heads turned to the unwelcome sound. 

The angel with the chasuble came barrelling in, and the omnipresent sunlight that touched everything around you glinted off the sharp black horns winding down from his skull. Or was it a skull? The face of this particular angel looked odd to you, with its smooth, glassy surface and flickering pixelated expression that replaced natural features like lips, cheeks and a nose. 

Their appearance looked at odds with everything else you’d seen in Heaven, regardless of the holy garbs they wore. Everything, while somewhat fantastical on the basis of it actually existing, resembled the organic and natural, and this figure stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison. 

“What the actual fuck? She’s actually here?!” The abrasive, aggressive voice that came out his digitized face shook you from your musings. 

You shrunk back toward Emily and Sera, instinctively trying to get away from the rapidly approaching figure that also towered over you. He glared in your direction, as if you were an insect he wanted to squash, and only when you lost the nerve to meet his gaze did you realize there was another angel behind him. This one wore a similar face, though they were smaller, slimmer and straight-backed. They wore darker vestments and jet-black horns as well, with wings nearly as jagged and hardlined. 

“Adam,” Sera greeted hesitantly. “I don’t believe you were summoned.” 

“Why is she here?” ‘Adam’ demanded, as if the Seraphim had never spoken. His companion stood firmly just a pace behind him, arms behind their back. 

Their combined presence was so off-putting, and your brow furrowed with mounting confusion. Sera’s shoulders slowly rose and fell as she sighed, disapproval in the hard line of her mouth. 

“That was part of the agreement.” 

“Uh, yeah — with the Devil!” His demeanor completely threw you off, so much so that you didn’t catch the full extent of what he’d said. “Who the fuck keeps their end of the deal with that asshole?”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff of disbelief, even as your confusion deepened. ‘The devil?’ 

A hand wrapped around your forearm, making you turn to look at Emily, who’d once more moved beside you. Her ire was clear, though much less contained than Sera’s. “Who are you to question Divine Judgement?” 

Adam laughed condescendingly. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the fucking CEO of Divine Judgement, kid!” 

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.” The other angel chimed in, flat and resolute. The smirk that curved her stitched lips gave away some covert sense of satisfaction in that statement. 

“Executioners?” Emily’s voice rose a few octaves. “What’re you talking about?” 

She was legitimately bewildered. 

“Enough.” Sera stepped in. “Adam, this has never been, nor was it ever, a debate. If you have a grievance, you can take it up with the counsel at a later date.” 

“My ‘grievance’ isn’t gonna fucking wait for this bitch to fuck shit up!” Adam pointed at you with a poisonous claw. 

“Excuse me?” You demanded in sheer disbelief. “Who do you think you are?!” 

The grin Adam shot you was more a bearing of one’s teeth, which further threw you for a loop as, again, his face was completely digital. “I’m fuckin’ Adam. The First Man. The Original Dick. I’ve been here since the fucking beginning. I earned this shit.” 

“Who do you think you are?” He asked, advancing on you. “You think you can whore yourself out to the worst being in all of Creation and still take up space in Heaven? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your gaze narrowed, a stark contrast to the whirlpool of thoughts swirling in your mind at his accusation. 

“HA! Seriously?” His face was mere inches from yours. “What? D’you open your legs for fuckin’ everyone? Have a hard time keeping track of all the brats you pop outta that used vag? Guess so, if even dying for one doesn’t ring your fuckin’ bell.” 

“ADAM!” 

Adam’s sharp grin dropped, expression dawning from stunned to petulant as Sera’s thunderous exclamation reverberated through the vast space between your unusual group. You swore the clouds trembled beneath your feet, but it was hard to care too much with the insinuations that had been thrown at you rattling within your being. 

Dying for… 

“Charlotte.” Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. Air escaped your lungs - which shouldn’t have been possible, but you were already dealing with one crisis upon the epiphany of what you’d been missing this whole time. 

A blitz of images and sordid emotions saw you struggling, legs falling out from under you as the weight of how exactly you’d died forced you down. Emily’s distressed cry sounded from above you, melding with Lucifer’s frantic pleas for you not to go as life drained from your body. 

The Seraphim’s shadow engulfed your broken form while you panicked on Heaven’s floor. 

—

Lucifer sat hunched in his chair, your cold, lifeless hand hanging in his. 

Charlotte had stopped crying and presumably gone to sleep. He hadn’t put up any fight when Cass took her to a crib set up beside your… your bed.

That was who knows how long ago. And apart from Cass coming over the check on his daughter, the elderly worshippers had left him to grieve in peace. 

The King had tried to convince himself to get up. He needed to take Charlotte and leave. Go home. The sight of you in death was unbearable — but he could not move. 

He couldn’t leave you, even if you were no longer there in spirit. The You he loved the most, your soul, was gone and had been gone for some time now. 

You had gone to the one place he could not follow. 

Lucifer’s hanged head slowly rose. His thoughts were starting to become more coherent — what if you hadn’t gone where you were meant to? 

Heaven was a paradise bound by rules, but it was also a cold bureaucracy where things could fall through the cracks. 

And any dealings with him — Heaven’s sworn nemesis — were likely to be one of those things. 

Slow-building anger replaced the gold in his veins as Lucifer considered that his own Deal was not met. If it wasn’t, that meant you were down Below, alone and afraid and suffering. 

The Devil’s claws cricked, fist clenching as he glared at the wall opposite him. 

He would not let you Suffer. Not you. Never you.

And you weren’t here anymore. He needed to know where you’d gone. Now. 

Rising from his seat, Lucifer laid your hand at your side and ignored the tears that stung his eyes at the sight of your ashen face. 

He touched your brow, lingering only to memorize the way your lashes rested against your sinking cheeks before turning to Charlotte’s cradle. 

She was sleeping peacefully, unaware of his anguish, of the great loss that not only he had endured but she as well. It made Lucifer’s heart ache. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

Then, with a sudden snap of his fingers, Lucifer conjured the presents he’d made especially for her. 

The twin goats appeared, suspended in the air behind him. Lucifer didn’t bother to turn until their bodies were triple their original size, fur changing from felt to coarse fiber, eyes glowing as they were transformed from button to bonafide, and their bat-like wings began to beat at the air, blowing back the gossamer of Charlotte’s bassinet. 

Lucifer looked between the two magicked goats after kissing his daughter’s fragile head. 

“Stay here and protect the baby.” He ordered. “Charlotte is your top priority, do you understand?” 

The two creatures nodded simultaneously, determination set in their naturally adorable maws. 

“If anything happens, just bleat, and I’ll be back in the wink of an eye.” Lucifer’s wings extended and propelled him upward with a great stroke. 

The King of Hell disappeared through an enormous portal, sparking and swirling reddish-gold before vanishing behind him. 

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems,

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x you

[writingoddess1125]

(S)cream?

Scary things they do that turn you on

Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Law

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Buggy

This was humiliating- You had joined Zoro on his journey as a bounty hunter and ended up coming along as he joined the newest pirate on the scene Monkey D Luffy- You didn't necessarily agree but you were a loyal friend..

That and Zoro had too much damn dirt on you for you to let him go on his own-

One of those diets being.. your particular taste in attractions.. which unfortunately came out when you first interacted with Buggy the Clown in Orange Town.. already you were kidding liking the scary clown thing.

"Stupid Straw Hats- No matter.."

Buggy laughed darkly his eyes locking on the lot of you as he pulled put his blades.

"You are all going to die"

You watched the clown laugh darkly and held one of the knives infront of his face licking them as he geared up for an attack- your face warming and you felt the top of your ears starting to turn red at the sight.

Zoro turned to stared at you in utter disgust as if already knowing what this would do to you-

"You have awful survival instincts..." He said plainly as you blushed and looked away ashamed and embarrassed- Buggy now confused over why your own crew was looking at you so disappointed and you so shamed.

"E-Eh?" He questioned as he glanced back at the crew just as confused as their Captian. You felt like sobbing at this point as you turned away from them all and pouted in the corner depressed.

"I know..."

Mihawk

Was your friend a idiot? Maybe it was the alcohol but it the famed most powerful swordsman showed up and you challenge him when let's lace it- He had issues beating a clown.. Who thought this was a good idea!?

"Zoro this is stupid-" You hissed, looking over the open chested man and having to quickly steer those thoughts away to try and save your friends life. Yet of course he ignored you and Nami and marched away-

The next morning you all showing up {besides Nami} to support Zoro on his idiocy- Mihawk making his appearance and once again.. Damn- pulling that necklace from his neck with a easy flick and pulling out a tiny blade.

"Whats that I came here for a swordfight-"

"I don't hunt rabbits with a Canon-" He replied as he held his arms out to the group, You felt that loyalty for Zoro starting to slip away when you heard his voice and that almost amused dangerous look to him as he threatened your friends life.

A-Ah.. So you did have some mild daddy issues and maybe something for dark men. The sensation of blood seemed to leave your brain and warm other parts of your body.. You sigh and bow your head.

"For fuck sakes-" You mutter, Rubbing your temple as you try to calm yourself back down and figure out a way from this situation.

Crocodile

Being the head assistant for the Cross Guild had its pros and cons. A pro was you got pain Very well for your work- You doubted Goverment workers got what you got, paired with the protection from its leaders. A con however was the terrible workload you had constantly and also having to just stand against the wall during moments like this.

"-You fucking Fool-" Crocodile hissed as he held Buggy by his throat angrily. Mihawk sitting down drinking his normal wine which you refilled every 5 minutes to keep the sword master pleased.

"Please Forgive me!" Buggy cried as Crocodile continued his verbal assault on the Clown Captian. Buggy had messed up- Once again and it seemed this time was enough for Crocodile to opt to try and choke Buggy to death rather then the normal beating the bluette relieved.

Crocodile blew a cloud of smoke to the side, his glance landing on you for a second before returning to insulting Buggy.

"(Y/N)- You are dismissed" He grumbled, squeezing Buggys throat again as you caught his glance-

"Y-Yes sir.."

You stood there with wide eyes as Crocodile held the squeaking and squaking mess that was Buggy hard by his throat- hissing threats at him and pointing that hook right at his throat.

This should have been scary- It was actually scary.. but also- You couldn't help but let your mind start to drift to if you were in Buggy's position and immediately felt your body flesh at the thought. Strong hands around your throat, cold wall against your back and Crocodile hissing insults in your ear-

"Huh- Learned something new about (Y/N).." You say softly with a nod at this new self discovery and walked away quickly before you embarrassed yourself.

Law

"(Y/N)!!" You hear your name being called, rushing to the railing you see your crew approaching and you smiled.

"You guys are back!!" You cheer as you rush off the shit to help your friends board- That's when you spot new people there with your crew.

Tall, Brooding? Covered in blood? Holy shit...

"This is Law- He's going to help us out" Sanji explained as Law nodded softly at you.

"Hello-" He said calmly and you gave a shy smile.

"Nice to meet ya Law, See you're pretty banged up- Let's get you on the ship so chopper can treat you" You say calmly trying to be polite.

"Should see the other guy, but i appreciate it Love" He said with a dark smirk before wincing at his injuries. You felt your cheeks warm at this-

You clapped your hands together to give yourself strength, Taking a breath before doing a direct U-Turn back to the ship.

"(Y/N)?- Where are you going?" Nami called out as the crew watched you march away just as confused by your sudden actions.

"Going to go do some 'Finger Painting' Be back later" You said calmly, you were fortunate the crew was too innocent to understand your words.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece buggy #captain buggy #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #crocodile x reader #op crocodile #one piece crocodile #crocodile #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt6

pt 5 here content: stalking, (duh.) thoughts of violence, blackmail, mentions of grooming, overall Choso thinking he's a good guy, paranoia, starting to feel the anxiety of someone possibly stalking reader

(a.n) I wrote this listening to 'Black no 1 - Type O Negative'

Taglist: @sunaumei @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @flam3bird @waytootiredforthisss @blindedbylighting @chosowhore @bash1018 @tetsuswhore @ofalcaodacolinablue @mahgyu @notiddygxthgf

Obsessive!Choso who looked at you, had a smile on his face before interrupting your ‘friend’. “Of course I'd like to join you.” Looking over to this, Theo. Seeing his eyes full of disappointment, a sinister smile formed on Choso's lips. Knowing that this person will never even come close to making you feel the way he does. ‘It’s okay. You can try and find scraps of me in other men. I'm patient. I will wait for you to come back to me when these men can't hold a candle to the thought of me. I will wait.’ he thought, calling your name. Sitting across from you and your ‘friend’. This guy was staring at Choso as though he could read his thoughts. Smile on his face, knowing he'd never be able to. Awkward tension in the air, making you want to shrink into your seat. Seeing you about to speak up but he needed to know. Know what you see in this shallow man. “What did you say you did for a living?” Choso asked, the question was harmless. But his eyes gave away his true intentions. ‘I'll find you. I'll find out how to ruin you.’ Making the man squint, “I didn't, but I work in tech.” He started, droning on and on about his job. Looking over at you, your face bored as though you'd heard him say the same thing over and over again. ‘Idiot. I didn't even have to ask him another question- he's telling me everything I need.’

Holding back a smile. Nodding his head, mocking him while hearing your ‘friend’ yap on and on. “And you? How could you afford to come to such a college? Especially so far away from home.” Passive aggressive. Choso saw what he was trying to do. “Don't tell me-” Theo started, closing his eyes and pretending to think. “Trust fund?” He asked sarcastically, making you look over to him in shock. “God no-” Choso laughed, thinking of all the ways he could dispose of him. “Though I'm sure you'd know all about that.” He kept a playful tone, but his eyes gave him away. Hearing your friend laugh, “You kids these days. Always so quick to snap.” Theo smiled, ‘I'll show you what snapping is.’ crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes. ‘See? He sees you as nothing but a child. Tell me you see it too.’ he thought, looking over at you to see what you'd say. 

Choso’s anger pooled in his gut when he saw the way Theo looked at you. Almost telling you to keep your mouth shut. Nodding your head in disapproval. True, you only invited Choso to see how he'd act. See if he would show you some kind of indication as to how he felt about you. But this- this was just awkward. Seeing you look down at the menu, your fingers on your forehead. Theo looking down at his phone, before leaning over to your ear and whispering something. ‘I'll kill him.’ he vowed, seeing your eyes widened at Theo’s whispers. Looking over at him, “Really?” You asked, seeing him stand up and kiss the top of your head. All while staring directly at Choso. “It's work-I'll call you later, babe.” before walking off, answering a call on his phone. ‘This is who you replaced me with?’ seeing you ease your shoulders the second he left. “Known him long?” He asked, breaking the silence. Making you smile at how he was starting to show you some kind of jealousy, “A while. I guess.” You smiled, taking a drink from your cup, raising your eyebrows at him. Seeing him nod, almost disapprovingly. “I must be missing something here- clearly.” He spoke, “I mean- he's well read, he's nice. What more could I ask for in a friend?” you exhaled, dropping your smile before looking down at the menu again. ‘Well read? Nice? He just left you for work, called you a child and looks old enough to be your father.’ scoffing as he replayed the words in his head. “Problem?” You asked, trying to get him to admit he was jealous. 

What Choso felt wasn't jealousy, he felt possessive. Like if he saw you once more with that man- he'd have to show you just how possessive he was. “You're naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” He scoffed, seeing you furrow your eyebrows. This was fun- at first. But now he's calling you naive- almost telling you that you're an idiot. Seeing you exhale- 'You're getting angry.’ It wasn't the fact he was asking too many questions. It was the fact that he didn't just tell you what he was thinking. Dancing around what you wanted to hear. Smile on your lips, opening your mouth to say something- to ask him if he was being jealous. But thinking before you spoke. “I think I'm going back home. Theo was right- you must be tired.” You mumbled, standing up and seeing his face fall. It wasn't the fact that he didn't show you what you wanted to see, it felt belittling when he looked at you like that. Almost telling you ‘This isn't you.’ but not saying it, it almost felt like…slut shaming? Hearing him ask you to wait, but you walked away. ‘Our first fight.’ he thought, watching you walk out the doors of the restaurant. 

Obsessive!Choso who kept apologizing to you mentally, ‘I know I should apologize. Show up to your door with a thousand flowers and beg you on my hands and knees to forgive me. But I have work to do. I need to find out who this ‘Theo’ in tech is. I need to make sure he isn't a stalker or a serial killer.’ he'd thought, scrolling through your following list, trying to find anyone with the same name, but he came up empty handed. Searching up his name followed by tech companies. So very easy to find his full name and the name of the company he worked for. Opening Theo’s instagram, ‘Babe? Babe, you're dating a douchebag.’ he teased you in his own mind, scrolling through the many photos of him on yachts and of him doing whatever the fuck ‘Hot yoga’ was. Going to his tagged, so many pictures of him with other women. ‘Busy boy aren't you?’ His profile was littered with women in tiny bikinis. ‘Somehow you're always on vacation, year round huh?’ Finding the one picture he knew would lead him to what he was looking for. A family photo, his son and wife posing happily. ‘Of course he's married.’ he'd think, clicking on the account that was tagged on his wife. Endless pictures of her house, of her family, comparing the two instagram accounts. ‘I know you don’t know he's married. He spewed a bunch of bullshit to you. He manipulated you. Do you know about all these pictures?’ thinking while refreshing the page- seeing he had just posted something. ‘I mean come on. You're making this too easy.’ seeing photos with someone that very much wasn't you. ‘Either he told you he didn't have social media or you know. But you're not like that- I know you. You wouldn't date a married man.’

Obsessive!Choso who printed each photo he could find that was incriminating. ’It's clear here- he didn't miss you when you were gone. You mean nothing to him.’ You know it was serious when he printed the photos in color. Making two copies of each photo. Smile on his face while watching the ink dry. Typing out onto two forms, “Do you know what your husband is up to?” Slipping it into a yellow folder with the photos. And on the other, “Be careful who you let into your life.” addressing one to his wife and the other to you. Writing down the address that was almost too easy to find. And holding onto the other for the next time he'd go by your house. ‘I'm doing this for you. I know you don't see what I see. But that's why you need me. You need me to protect you from all the people in the world that will try to hurt you.’ 

Sending out the envelope to Theo’s wife. Going to your house while you were in the coffee shop on campus. Placing it on the doormat before walking back to where he last saw you. Walking directly to where you were sitting. It was the next day- he didn't text and neither did you. But Choso knew he had to be there for you- especially now with that little present he left on your doorstep. Seeing you move your eyes to look at him. Not even greeting him with a smile. “Could I sit?” He asked, the soft tone he took made you almost forget why you were upset. ‘Mhm.’ he heard from you, looking back down at your book. Glancing up when you saw him shifting in his seat. “I'm sorry.” He started, seeing you purse your lips and look at him. “For?” You asked, your tone stern, wanting to be sure that he knew what he did wrong. Choso felt goosebumps on his arms at hearing how upset you sounded, “For being mean. And for not being supportive.” He exhaled, you looked at him. He looked like a child that was being scolded, hands between his knees and looking away from your gaze. Smile forming on your face when you thought of what to say. “And why were you mean and unsupportive?” you asked, your tone cold as he looked up to see you. Opening his mouth to speak, thinking of what he could say to you. Choso felt his ears could burn off at any second. “I was-” he started, “I was worried.” he urged, seeing you tilt your head and squint your eyes. “About what? Don't think I can take care of myself?” You taunted, seeing him become more and more flustered every time you spoke. ‘I know you can't. I've seen how much you can't take care of yourself.’ 

Obsessive!Choso who was stuttering and stumbling over his words. “That's not what I'm saying-” he started, seeing you squint at him. It was happening again. “I've seen you walk home alone and- and it worries me- people are crazy and I don't want you to get kidnapped- or worse-” He threw so many words at you, he didn't even know what he was saying. But seeing you crack a smile and close your eyes eased him. “I won’t get kidnapped. I'll try my best not to.” You smiled, letting go of the stern face when you saw how flushed he became. “And as for Theo- he was my ex-boyfriend's step dad.” You confessed, seeing Choso’s face drop. Looking away from you and trying to connect the dots. “From highschool- my ex wasn't the greatest kid and Theo really helped me out.” You smiled, ‘He groomed you. Didn't he?’ 

The agonizing feeling of wanting to throw up when he heard you tell the disgusting tale of the man he was. “I was 15 or 16 I think- when Theo helped me leave his son. His wife wasn't the greatest person either, always accusing me of- vile things.” You exhaled, telling this to Choso as though he was your prince charming. “But he got me my own place, got me a car. Helped me choose this college; helped me leave my family.” You continued, remembering the unpleasant memories from home. ‘He deserves worse than me ruining his life.’ he thought, seeing your face almost light up while telling him how Theo came to see you- to check up on you. ‘I will kill him for you. I will chop him into pieces and throw him into a construct-’ his violent thoughts were interrupted. “Oh my god- Choso your nose!” you exclaimed, reaching for paper towels from the small dispenser on the table. 

So much anger that his nose actually started bleeding. Wiping it with his fingers, feeling it drip into his mouth. Trailing the tips of his fingers down to his lips before pulling them away and seeing them covered in blood. Looking over at you with hazy eyes, pressing napkins onto his face, Hearing you ask him something, but deaf with rage. Looking up at you through his eyelashes, now standing in front of him, a napkin pressed firmly onto his pierced nose as your other hand held the back of his head still. “Are you okay?” you asked him, face full of worry. The feeling of your hands on his head made him forget that he was currently bleeding, thinking you were holding his face with deep devotion. Feeling him nod against your hands. Pulling your hands from him slowly, looking at his face to see if he was truly okay. 

Obsessive!Choso who spent the next two hours at the cafe with you, hearing you speak about the man who tried to take you away from him. Pocketing the anger he felt, knowing if he saw him once more- he would beat him bloody. Flashing images of him taking advantage of you, when you were just a child. Following you home, watching from a distance when you picked up the large folder labeled with your name. Opening it and reading the paper, eyes skimming the photos. He was far, but not far enough to see the shock and fear on your face when you looked around. Trying to see who left these here. Seeing you open the door to your house, picturing you walking up the steps and into your bedroom. Dialing the phone to call your self proclaimed prince charming, if only you knew the true one was outside watching you. Phone pressed to your ear as you paced the window. Silent tears falling from your eyes as you waited for him to answer. Seeing you opening your mouth, speaking to him. Reading your lips, asking him ‘what the fuck these photos were. And who sent them’ only to be yelled “Not now!” before hanging up. Knowing that Theo was the kind of idiot who’d choose someone else over you. But thankful for his idiocy. The feeling of losing one of the only ‘parental’ figures in your life was destroying. Choso stepped closer to your house, being able to hear your sobs. ‘It's okay.’ he comforted you. Your weeping made him want to cry with you. ‘This had to be done. I had to make you see that nobody will love you the way I do.’

Obsessive!Choso who didn't hear from you for the next two days, taking strolls to your house and seeing you were in your bedroom. He didn't know you hadn't left because of the fear that someone was actually stalking you. Almost like you felt his presence, going insane inside that house. All alone, still a week left before your roommates came home. You called him, tears in your eyes at the thoughts in your head. “Hey.” you whispered, voice cracked before you sniffled. This made his heart break, knowing you were wasting tears on that pig who hurt you. Closing his eyes in pain. “Hey- I haven't heard from you in a while.” He spoke, feigning being clueless before he heard you let out a quick ‘Ha-ha’. “Yeah- I'm sorry.” You apologized, feeling tears prick your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked, hearing you let out a choked sigh as you closed your eyes, smiling at the comfort his voice brought you. “No. Not at all. But I was wondering if you could come see me?” You asked, sniffling away your embarrassment. Feeling like Choso was the only one you could trust right now. “Of course- at the cafe?” He asked, seeing you step in front of your window, looking out and feeling like you were being watched. Closing the curtain before answering him, “No- No you can just come to my house.” You sat on your bed, closing your eyes and listening to him. “Yeah- yeah, wherever you want.” He replied, almost telling you he'd see you in a few minutes, but remembering you hadn't actually given him your address yet. “Send me the address, okay?” He asked you, making you smile as you huddled over your legs. Mumbling a small, ‘Mhm’ before he asked, “Do you need anything? Something to drink or a snack?” He asked, making you giggle. “No. No I just need-” You started, feeling your cheeks warm at what you were about to say, ‘Me. you just need me.’ he thought. “Please. Please just get here as soon as you can.” You spoke, not wanting it to sound so pathetic but it did.

It took all the strength he had to not run across the street to knock on your door. Instead, walking to the small grocery store that was close to your house. Picking up a few vegetables and some tilapia fish. Wanting to show you just how well he could take care of you if you let him. Almost running to your house 15 minutes after you sent him the address. Knocking on the door and hearing you open it immediately. No makeup, evident bags under your eyes and in your pajamas at 5:34 pm. And still, you looked otherworldly in his eyes. “Hey-” you murmured, voice pained as you fought off tears. Looking at him, no eyeshadow, and his hair down. “You, my dear-” he started, making you smile at his words. Seeing him take a step inside and kicking the door shut. Heavy boots clacking on the wood flooring. “Look like you need a hug. “ He said, holding the plastic bag in his hand. Nodding your head yes before seeing him place the bag on the table next to the door. Taking a step towards you and snaking your arms around him, closing your eyes as you pressed the side of your face to his chest. Exhaling as though he knew exactly what you needed. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders without any hesitation this time. Squeezing you tightly, resisting the urge to kiss the top of your head, feeling you smile against him. Pulling away from him and grinning. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked, seeing you look down at your socks. “No- if that's okay.” You mumbled, “What did you bring?” you whispered, seeing him look over at the bag. “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, kicking his shoes off at the door. 

Obsessive!Choso who convinced you to stay on the couch while he cooked for you, eyes following his every move. Sleeves rolled up and hair pulled back, cutting up carrots. Catching you staring multiple times, only smiling before continuing to mince the vegetables. “I didn't know you cooked.” You grinned, seeing him place the vegetables into the pan your roommates had told you multiple times not to use. “I never liked mentioning it- and unexpected, don't you think?” His tone was soft, not bothering to use the rugged act he used in public. Not now. “Definitely.” You replied, seeing the sun setting while Choso infused his love into what he was making. “You don't cook?” He asked, looking up from the stove, placing the knives and cutting board into the sink. “Growing up I was always told I had hands that were like a stomach- destroying everything they touch.” You laughed, seeing him not find it funny. “I mean- it's true. I can't cook for the life of me, and I never had the patience for baking.” Seeing him return you a smile, ‘This is what life would be like with me. You'd never have to cook, or clean. I'd do everything for you.’ he'd think, turning around and hiding his toothy smile from you. 

Obsessive!Choso who reached into your cupboards, pulling out two oval plates. Calling you over, telling you to close your eyes. Sitting at the small table in your kitchen, opening them and seeing the plate he served for you. Choso let out a small ‘Ta-da’ Opening your mouth with furrowed eyebrows. “I don't even want to eat it- it's a masterpiece.” You smiled, seeing him place the pan into the sink before sitting down next to you, waiting for you to take the first bite. “You have to, I need to know if you like it.” he smiled, his hands in between his knees. Watching you pick up the fork, picking up a piece of vegetables and a good chunk of the fish. “Careful, it's hot.” He mumbled, smile on your lips before blowing gently onto the food. Almost dying when he saw you place it into your mouth, biting down and closing your eyes. His face winced when you looked at him. “Is it not good?” he asked, seeing you furrow your eyebrows and finish chewing. Running your tongue across the front of your teeth. “I haven't eaten a home cooked meal this good in 3 years.” You smiled, looking at him light up at your words. “Is it-?” he asked, seeing you nod quickly before taking another bite, “Whatever major you're in- change it. Go to culinary school. Jesus.” You smiled, taking another bite. Making him smile and look down at his own plate. “Did your parents teach you?” you asked, taking a drink from the glass to your right. “I taught myself-” he exhaled, placing his cutlery down and looking at you. “My mother passed away when I was young, I was 10, I think” He exhaled, seeing you pinch your eyebrows. “And my father wasn't the kind of man to stick around- so I learned for my brothers.” He smiled, looking at your face of sorrow. Reaching for his wrist, “I'm so sorry Choso.” You whispered. Seeing him look down at his plate. “If I didn't learn how- they'd still be eating microwaved hotdogs and chocolate milk for all 3 meals.” he chuckled, lightening the mood, seeing you smile. “Who cooks for them now?” You asked, leaning onto your hand as he exhaled. “They're all grown up now- either they cook for themselves or they eat leftover pizza.” he smiled, the memories of when he first started cooking for them flashing in his mind. 

Looking down at your plate and then at his, noticing yours lacked mushrooms “Why doesn't mine have any mushrooms?” You asked, seeing his smile fall. A few seconds of silence in the air before he spoke. “I remembered you mentioned something about not liking them.” The smile that was previously on his face returned. “You remember everything, don't you?” You smiled, looking down at your plate to hide the warmth that was rising on your cheeks. “That reminds me-” He smiled, standing up and going to the coat hanger by your door. Reaching into the pocket and pulling out a small square of tissue paper. “I know Christmas has passed. But- I thought better late than never right?” He said, placing the square onto the table and seeing you return a blushing smile. “You didn't have to Choso-” Your eyebrows pinched. “I know- I know. But I wanted to.” He smiled, looking at your face. Mouthing, ‘Open it’ before you delicately opened the tissue paper. Slack jawed when you saw it. A small beaded bracelet, black and red beads with square letters. Your favorite band's name on it. Looking at him and feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Thank you.” you whispered, not remembering telling him about your favorite band, but chalking it up to you probably forgot, but he remembered. Slipping it onto your wrist, perfect fit. ‘I always want to know where you are. I want you to carry a piece of me with you everyday.’

“Is this a friendship bracelet?” You asked, seeing he had a similar one. “Only if you want it to be.” He smiled, seeing you look down at the colors. “Do you want it to be?” You smiled, looking into his eyes. Making his ears warm and a smile form on his lips, “I do.” seeing you look away from him, not wanting him to see you blush. ‘That won't be the first time I say those words. I'll make sure of that.’

-

pt 7 here

😳 tis getting a lil much no? I appreciate all your comments! I see them all and giggle while kicking my feet. I wont be able to reply to them cuz when it gets to tagging people- it gets confusing!!! also pls make sure your mentions are on like this

or else I wont be able to tag u!!!!

#jjk #choso kamo #choso my beloved #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen #emo choso #college au #non course au #sfw jjk

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 5

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw x OC!reader, cursing, maybe. Self-doubt and insecurities.

Words: 3165

The One I Want Masterlist

---

You are stirred by a knock at your door and you flip over in bed, eyes widening when you find the sun too high in the sky for the hour you were expected to wake. 

“Shit! I’m gonna be late.” 

Throwing back the covers you hop out of the warmth of your mattress into the chill of the room, and rush toward the bathroom. But there’s another knock. Glancing between the door and the bathroom, you debate which is more important, but you know Jake is on the other side. And you know he won’t stop. So, quickly as you can, you make your way to the opposite side of the room and yank the door open. 

“Hey,” Jake says with a smile. “I was, uh…I–”

Your brow raises in question, but then you realize where the two-second glance of his eyes landed before they returned to your face. The speedy transition from comfy bed to cold air caused your nipples to bud and press through the thin fabric of your tight tank top. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, and ignoring the blush you can’t will away, you say, “What’s up?”

“You weren’t up for work, so I thought you might be sick or something.”

“Nope, not sick,” you reply, stepping back to ease the door closed. You really need to get ready. You’re already calculating how long each of your morning routine tasks will take if you operate at max speed. 

“Wait,” Jake says, his palm flattening against the door. It’s not forceful, you could slam it closed if you really wanted to, but the look on Jake’s face makes you pause for him. “When I pick you up, any chance you want to go to a bonfire? Just friends from work and a couple of locals. It’s not going to be anything crazy.”

“Yea, sure,” you rush out, not soaking in his words. You’re going to be late, he’s going to be late, and you need to get rid of him. 

Jake smiles again as he says, “Really?” and you nod, not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to. But it works to move him along. 

He wishes you a good day and begins to head for the front door when, suddenly, he pauses halfway on his path. You think he’s about to ask you something else that you won’t comprehend with the anxiety of being late to work consuming your thoughts, but he simply stands there with his back to you, blows out a breath, and rests one hand on his hip while the other runs through his hair.

“Calm the fuck down,” you hear him mutter before he collects himself and resumes his move toward the door and out of the apartment. 

Thankful that he’s finally gone, you shower as fast as humanly possible, dress, and run into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to shove into your bag and the first piece of food you can find, a banana, to devour before you leave. At this rate, you’ll only be fifteen minutes late, but considering you’ve not once been tardy in the week and a half you’ve worked at the shop, you hope the owner will go easy on you. No one buys souvenirs at nine a.m. on a Friday, anyway. Hopefully. 

But fifteen minutes late turns into twenty. 

With the last bite of banana chewed, you toss the peel into the garbage can, but before the automatic lid fully closes, you catch a glimpse of an all too familiar item with all too familiar writing. Your foot presses on the pedal to shoot the lid back open. Reaching inside, you smack the banana peel out of the way and wrap your hand around the mug. 

My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator. You know those words. You know this mug. You sold this mug, to a busty blonde with an attitude problem. 

Though Jake’s been gone for more than ten minutes, your line of vision meets the front door to the apartment as if he had shut it behind him only moments ago. 

—

Jake’s hand casually rests on top of the steering wheel, guiding his truck steadily with the heel of his palm, and you wonder if he’s handled everything in his life with such ease; if he’s faced a single hardship or if a beautiful fate shined down upon him from the very beginning. 

From the moment you met Jake, you could tell he’d grown up well. He walks with the confidence of a man who has years of praise straightening his spine and holding his shoulders back. He speaks without the fear of being scolded, though being in the military, you’re positive he’s been barked at enough for a lifetime. He’s smart and clean and put together as if there was never the possibility for him to be anything else. And here you are, not remembering the last time you weren’t tense walking out your front door. 

“I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” Jake says. 

It jolts you out of your thoughts. 

Jake hadn’t given you much of an explanation for how the night would unfold, and you were too embarrassed to ask, having not really listened to him that morning when he was asking you to join him. In fact, you’d forgotten your commitment to any activity after your shift until he showed up at the gift shop to pick you up with your sweater draped over the passenger seat claiming it gets a little chilly at night.

“It’s no problem,” you say in response, knowing that this event could absolutely be a problem. 

You don’t know these people well. You don’t know this location. You don’t know how to handle being around Jake for an entire night after finding that mug in the trash and feeling the tiniest of pangs in your chest. You don’t want to think about the woman who bought it, what she meant, or possibly still means, to him. 

Jake puts the truck in park and turns to you with a grin that brightens his eyes even in the dim light of the nearby street lamp. “Ready?”

“Sure,” you answer, a wobble in your voice. 

He hops out of the car and hurries to your side, opening the door and reaching out to you. You stare at his hand for a beat before you decide to slip yours into his grasp so he can help you make the short leap from your seat to the sand. 

“Thanks.”

He gives you a nod, but he doesn’t release your hand as he guides you to the glowing light in the distance and the many silhouettes surrounding it. 

It feels odd when the small group smiles at you as you close the distance to the bonfire—an immediate acceptance from Jake’s friends and team. A few from the team you’d only met once, briefly, but you wouldn’t have assumed you made enough of an impression for them to be so welcoming now. 

Javy rises from one of the unfoldable chairs and rushes to you with his arms spread wide. He greets you with a “Hello Sweetness” and what you’re sure would’ve been a lung-crushing squeeze if Jake hadn’t put his free hand against his friend's chest to stop him before he could get to you. 

“Hands to yourself,” Jake warns. 

Javy’s arms slap down to his sides with the same dramaticism of his lips falling into a pout. He glances down. “You don’t keep your hands to yourself,” he whines, but there’s a subtle tease to it, a little quirk of his mouth that has your eyes going wide and your hand jerking free from Jake’s.

His eyes dart to the loss of weight between his fingers, then over to you, and you can detect the disappointment on his face despite not looking his way to confirm it. He turns back to Javy, who becomes the line leader toward the rest of the group. 

“She’s here!” Javy announces to your embarrassment, then in a dull tone says, “Jake’s here, too, but that’s less important.”

One by one, each of Jake’s friends greet you with nods and more smiles and questions of “How are you?” and “How was your day?” and you do your best to answer. You meet four others. The Bob you’ve heard plenty about who instantly gives up his seat for you; Rooster’s girlfriend, Millie—a petite red-head with a southern twang to her voice and a laugh that echoes across the waves of the ocean; and Mav and Penny, a couple that seems to operate as the parental figures of their younger friends. 

For the most part, you keep quiet as the night goes on, and from that decision, learn plenty. After two hours of experiencing them all in one place, your previous belief that these people solely operate as friends and teammates is quickly tossed away. They are family, held together by far more powerful sources than blood. Their lives are interwoven. They’re protectors of one another on land as much as they are at sea and in the sky. But it’s the teasing and story-telling, genuine pride, and support of each other that stings your nose and blurs the edges of your vision from springing tears. 

You’ve never seen people exist like this. People damage, people rip apart, and then people leave. No one sticks around to aid in healing others’ wounds—you thought. But you could pick any one of those in front of you now—electively sitting around a pit of fire with bottles of beer in their hands as they enjoy one another's company—and know that they have healed someone to their left or right. In their living, breathing unit, each person is vital for continuing on, and for whatever reason, for the time being, you’ve been invited into them.

Jake, in the midst of retelling a crowd-pleasing story, doesn’t sense you slip away to nestle in the sand. His voice fades to the waves that slide over the damp and heavy grains to touch your toes, retreat, and reliably reach for you again. One of few things that comes back, you think. The waves, and Jake you suppose. Both of which you’re finding are masters of the rebound. There is no pushing away either without preparing yourself for their return. The waves aren’t going anywhere, and with how your fingertips still tingle from Jake’s hand in yours, you’re starting to believe neither is he. 

You can’t say how much time has passed when you’re joined by another.

“He noticed, ya know,” you hear just as the little redhead plops down beside you. “That you’re not next to him.”

With knees bent, you wrap your arms around your thighs and hum, daring yourself not to glance over your shoulder. You can’t figure out what you want. For his eyes to search in the hope of meeting yours, or not. Instead, you focus on the newcomer. 

Millie is tiny, that’s for sure. She makes you feel like a city-destroying giant in this proximity, but unlike with most other women, your insecurity from being around her stops at the height difference. While there are probably a hundred differences between you, many of which can be spotted with a single look, you find comfort in one confirmed similarity: her shape. 

Her chest is heavy. She’s full in the hips and thick in the thighs, and when she’s perched on Rooster’s lap, a couple of rolls form where her tummy is. Rolls that she doesn’t care are obvious through her snug shirt. Rolls that don’t stop Rooster from running his hands over her body, fingers occasionally drifting to dangerous areas when he thinks no one else is watching. Most people aren’t watching. You are. 

Whenever a couple like them is shoved in your face, you picture loads of things that you probably shouldn’t be picturing considering this couple in particular could be in your life for a while. But you can’t help it. You picture them together, wrapped around one another, Rooster holding Millie close, sucking on her full breasts, kissing her stretch-marked skin, burying his head between thighs he would gladly permit to suffocate him. There are smiles and giggles and genuine moans of pleasure. You picture love meeting sex.

To your defense, it isn’t about Rooster or Millie. When you picture these scenarios, the people themselves lose their meaning to you, if they ever had meaning at all. They become Perfect Man and Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who falls on his knees for Imperfect Woman. Perfect Man who worships Imperfect Woman despite her imperfections. Every duo like Rooster and Millie you’ve come across in your stopping points around the country worms their way into your daydreams. You’ve never quite had the Perfect/Imperfect couple so close, though, and as much as you try to ignore it, it plants a seed of hope.  

“He didn’t want to bother you if you wanted a second to be alone,” Millie says to your shock, because since when doesn’t Jake Seresin squeeze himself into your space uninvited? That’s shown to be one of his top ten skills. 

“Were you sent over?”

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’. “I just happen to enjoy your company. You, me, and Penny gotta stick together. We’re the only gals in this crew who don’t get to fly without a chaperone.” Her head quirks to the side. “Well, there’s Payback’s girl as well. They’re overseas for a few more months—Fanboy, too.”

Jake mentioned them. Another set of best friends whose seats at this family table could not be occupied by outsiders. 

Millie leans back on her palms, tucking her toes into the sand. “I know they can be overwhelmin’,” she says. “They’re loud—well, with the exception of Bobby—and they’re all annoyingly attractive, right?”

Especially annoying is one particular pilot. 

“I never thought in a million years a guy like Bradley would develop a thing for me.”

“How’d you meet him?” you ask Millie, who instantly grins at the memory.

“I've got an uncle in the Navy,” she says, and if you closed your eyes, her southern accent would take you right to Alabama. You didn’t do well in Alabama. But Millie is far from a representation of the population you’d found yourself within. “Came to visit for the summer, met Bradley, and that was that.”

“You never went back home?”

She lets out a laugh that almost has her rolling onto her side. “Oh no, Honey, I did,” she finally gets out. “But I gave that dope my phone number. He kept callin’ and textin’. Wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to come back.” 

Giving her an amused look at the image of that burly pilot a few yards away being so desperate, Millie giggles and pats your knee. 

“I know, what a creep. But he won me over before I left, so I was lenient,” she says. “We spent more time together, and when he asked me to be his girl and move in with him, I said yes. Actually, I got here not long before you arrived.”

You take a moment to think over what she’s shared over the course of the night. Millie is young, at least a decade separating her and her boyfriend, and, from what you understand after her earlier telling of her story for you, she had a whole life on the other side of the country. A mother, a grandmother, a brother, a father who is less than thrilled his baby girl lives with a man much older than herself. A job lined up at her family’s small business. A good country boy everyone expected her to start dating soon. Yet, it appears with no reservations, she picked up, left her family, her business, and that country boy to settle in with Rooster. 

You can’t help but question what it would take for you to pick a place and stay in it. Neither can you remember the last town you lived in for more than four months. 

“Do you like it here?” you ask.

“Oh, it's lovely. Different, absolutely. But it’s not about here,” she shakes her head. “It’s about him. I’ll go where he goes.” Turning her head, she looks back to the group and smiles. A blush spreads across her cheeks from whatever charming, flirty gesture you guarantee Rooster just directed her way. “Datin’ a pilot,” she continues, her gaze back on the ocean, “is certainly…somethin’. It’s got its challenges, for sure, but Bradley is worth it.”

You nod because, on a level, you understand. Rooster is as kind as he is good-looking, and it takes about three breaths in their presence to see that he’s head over heels in love with his girlfriend. He’s gentle with her in a way you’ve never known—sweet—and when he looks at her, you see in his eyes that he is looking at his future. His wife. The mother of his children. Whether she knows of his plans or not, it makes sense that she stays by his side. No one with their head on straight would let that go if they could get away with it. 

“Jake’s a good guy, ya know,” Millie suddenly states, her honey-toned eyes meeting the plane of your profile. “He’d be worth it, too.”

Eyes widening, your head snaps to her so fast you feel a muscle tweak in your neck. 

She smiles softly, almost motherly though she’s younger than you, then she stands and dusts the sand off the back of her cutoffs. “Just somethin’ to think about, Honey,” she says. “I’ll let him know you’re alright.”

With Millie gone, you take extra minutes to collect yourself; take your deep breaths and try to wrap your head around her words. You’re not so sure you can. They’re as hard to push aside as the words and names directed at you in the past—the reasons you abandoned the places you’ve been to end up here. But for the first time, you don’t taste that sourness on your tongue or feel the swell and ache of nausea in your gut. There’s a wiggliness to your nerves from anxiety, but they accompany an intense pounding of your heart you’ve not experienced in so long you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. 

Standing, you brush away the sand that had snuck its way into the folds of your clothes and you turn. At some point, Jake switched seats with Bradley for the one that faces the ocean, faces you, and your stare instantly meets his. 

His knee is bouncing. He gives you a smile laced with concern, but it has enough power behind it to encourage you closer. So you step forward, one foot before the other until you see the movement of a bobbing head in your peripherals. Breaking your connected stare, your eyes flick to the right of Jake’s head and onto a figure in the distance.

And much like that mug from this morning, you think you know this figure. 

---

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[gegewrites]

Dr.house- working after hours. (Smut)

Currently obsessed with this man, he’s been in my dreams for the past 4 days. Barely edited. I’m not a Med student, I’m a film kid. So my two hours of spotty research are prob not all that right.

5/21/23

Your pov-

It was about twelve am, maybe even one. I was sitting in Dr.Houses office. Seated directly in his chair, my elbows resting on the glass top desk, my chin sitting on top of my hands as I looked down at the file in front of me.

Our current patient, Craig Sanders, forty-five, male. He travels often for work. Earlier today he had a heart attack at home, in the garage. Pronounced dead for 7 minutes. Gotta be some kind of record. He’s loosing vision and feeling in his limbs, loss of memory but none of it stays. It comes and goes.

Because I had clinic duty today I didn’t get to fully focus on the patient, only for the beginning. I got to view the scans quickly but was paged to the clinic, so now I’m catching up.

I didn’t look up when the glass door opened, it knew it was house because who else would just walk into a office that has its blinds closed, let alone at 1 am.

“In my chair, now I really can’t ignore you.” He commented, I gave a light scoff as ket my eyes at the paper, not really reading it, just thinking,”shouldn’t you be home?”

“Shouldn’t you?” I looked up at him. he was standing in front of the desk, leaning on his left leg, his grip of his cane shifting, he gazed down at the file in front of me.

“Touché.” He stood for a few seconds longer before we walked away. I didn’t watch him, but I heard his bottle of whiskey open as he poured it into a glass.

“How much sense does this case make to you?” I asked, leaning back in the chair, we was leaning against the desk behind me glass in hand,”his heart is finally semi stable, so It’s not having sn effect of anything at the moment, but , his brains loosing funct-“

“I think I’d be able to think better if you got out of my chair, hiked that pretty skirt up, and sat down on me.” He clicked his tongue,”Should really get my brain going.”

I was kind of taken by surprise, house and I have fucked more times then you can count on one hand. In The Broom closets, his car, his house, on his piano, but never in his office.

I knew from the moment I walked into the office today this skirt was gonna get him. pencil skirt, stopped just above my knees. A dark grey so you could see any lines, which he didn’t. I caught him looking on more then one occasion.

Earlier/11 am-

Houses Pov-

My grip on the head of my cane shifted as I watched (l/n) write on the board. Her writing on the board was fine, she’s been here for nine years, she knows what she’s doing and she picked up this patient. But, I couldn’t keep my eyes in the board or my attention on foreman, Cameron, or chase. No, my eyes and brain were more focused on her ass. I’d occasionally look the board or around to cover it but I kept getting pulled back.

Pencil skirt, Dark grey, tight…and short.

It’s not like she hasn’t worn pencil skirts before, I’ve seen her with one hiked up around her waist as she gets it from behind. first “date” two years ago actually. Wine Red. Nice color on her.

You see this one, this one was different. usually you can see panty lines under tight clothing like dresses or skirts, she’s usually got a slight thong line, and I’ve been looking for it.

“What do you think?” I was taken out by (l/n) question. I looked at her, hands sturdily placed in her hips, and I looked at the white board.

Memory loss, weakened heart muscles, low blood cell count, numbness in fingers and toes, and loss of eye sight, intermittently.

Those were just the main ones.

“EKG, stress test, keep an eye on his ECGs.” I stood up,” get all the cardiac makers. Dementia, Alzheimer’s, and multiple sclerosis. Let’s start there.” They didn’t move, just looked at me,”move, I have to get to the clinic or Cuddy will have my balls.”

“Alright.” Foreman said as he got up from his chair, Cameron and chase followed. (l/n) stuck around for a bit and looked at the board before she followed.

“Hey.” I called to catch her attention, she stopped and looked at me,”that new?”

“What?”

“The skirt, it’s nice.” I let my eyes fall from her face to her hips, where her black button up was tucked in. She grabbed her white coat from the chair at the end of the table.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she turned around,”I saw you looking the whole time,” she started to walk away,”we all saw.”

“Hard not too, especially when it seems like youre not wearing anything under it.” I followed her into my office, she was already at the open door.

“I am, it’s just thin.”

Now-

Your pov-

“Perfect, just Fuckin perfect.” He groaned, relaxed into the rolling chair, his hands placed on my waist. His finger tips pressed in and out of my clothed skin. My pussy was clenched around his cock, buried inside of me as I was sitting tightly on his lap. My thong moved to the side. The record player was on, playing one of his blues records, mainly instrumental.

He popped two of his Vicodin right before he yanked up my skirt, he was definitely enjoying all of this right now. The door wasn’t locked, but the blinds were closed. A little risky considering Wilson is still around, his wife is gonna be mad when he gets home but he’s got reports to do.

I went to rock my hips to get some pleasure but his grip stopped me.

“Greg.” I sighed out and he hummed, pressing his chest against my back.

“Just sit, go over the information.” His hands ran up my shirt, over my breasts as he started unbuttoning it, exposing my skin and black bra. His lips kissed my neck, his beard tickling my skin as he untucked my shirt from my skirt,”you changed a hair product.”

“My conditioner.” I answered as I switched between tests, comparing and contrasting, trying to make things fit.

He stopped talking after that, running his hands up and down my sides, grazing over fabric and my skin.

I drowned out into the music and the feeling of his cock deep inside me, the littlest shift and he’s rubbing into my gspot. He was relaxed back into the chair, glass of whiskey in his hand as the other held onto my waist.

I looked over to the light board, scans of his heart and brain trying to pick it apart from where I was seated…at least I was. I stopped paying attention when I felt his hand slip from my waist, down to my thigh. His middle finger slipped through my lips and started slowly rubbing my clit in a circular motion.

“Please don’t stop.” I begged out in a breath.

“But what’s the fun in that?” He leaned forward, putting his glass in the desk while making sure he was pressed firmly inside me, making a pitiful whimper leave my mouth,”look at his temporal and parietal lobe in the lateral view,” he turned the chair, I grabbed onto the arms,” along with his cerebellum in the inferior view. Look hard.”

“It’s dying, we know that.” My voice had a slight shiver to it, my legs were also starting to tremble, he still hasn’t stopped rubbing my clit.

“Why?” He started rubbing harder, I was getting wetter, my walls fluttering around him, I stayed nearly silent, besides the small gasps which were starting to turn into moans,”he’s started loosing control of his limbs, impulsive reflex’s cause by the brain, loss of vision intermittently, why?”

“Brain death?” My eyes shot from the lateral view to his inferior view,”His brain stem…he had a heart attack a-alone….” My breathing became deeper,”took the family two minutes to get to him, another five before the para-Ah fuck- medics came.” I answered,”the brain lost oxygen when his heart stopped.”

“Alright, keep going.” He rocked his hips up into me, being extra sure to use his good leg only. Now I was feeling it, my hips started rocking down onto him, his finger was moving fast and hard, I could feel my mind slipping from me.

“There’s no-othing we can do.” I kept the moan that was trying to escape out, wouldve felt wrong saying it with a moan.

“Sure it’s brain death?”

“Yes greg.” My eyes closed on their own, my back arched slightly. He stopped moving, completely,”fuck, come on.” He grabbed into my waist, keeping me still.

“You wanna cum, then give me the right answer, his brain is going to die if you don’t. Key word, going. It hasn’t yet.” He spoke close to my ear,”this is why clinic duty sucks, you get lost in the progress of a patient.”

“What?”

“He had a heart attack, we know that. The heart attack is not closely connected to this, so get that out of your head.” His tone was stern,”he’s slowly declining at the moment, recount his history, what does he do for work?” My eyes shifted around as I thought,”is your brain going dead by how deep my cock is inside of you? Should I take it out? Let you think?”

“No!” I yelped out,” he travels for business but he gets his shots.”

“Not all.” He reached to the desk and then handed me the folder whilst pulling me flush against his chest, his palm pressed to my lower stomach as I flipped through to find his travel history,”were was he a few months ago?”

“Mexico.”

“What vaccine is he missing?”

“I don’t know.”

“He got sick in Mexico, had what seemed like a cold, so he was required to get a flu vaccine by his work. It’s not on the list he didn’t feel like he needed to list it.” I blinked a few times.

“So it’s from the vaccine?” The recorded fades out and started playing a new song. He grabbed his glass of whiskey.

“Ding ding.” He threw back the rest of the glass and put it on the desk,” AMAN, found mostly in children. It causing damage to the nerve fibers, which instead of staying in his limbs, progressed to his brain-“

“Which was set off by the heart attack? Being dead for that amount of time set off his immune system?” He rolled his hips into me.

“What do we have to do?” He took the file from me and put it back on the desk,”we don’t act within the next 2 hours, he’s gonna die”.

“His brain is being paralyzed which is mimicking it dying,.plasmapheresis or IVIG, remove the antibodies from the blood.” His finger went back to my clit, regaining the speed and pressure from before.

“Perfect.” He started moving my hips so I started moving them faster, rocking up and down,”oh fuck.”

It felt like electricity was shooting up my spine, simply having his cock inside me gets me so worked up. Moans left my mouth with no warning or control. Slick coated the inside of my thighs and the sounds coming from where we were connected were obscene, but they turned me on even more.

“Gotta start doin’ this to you more, so fucking wet.” He groaned,”Fuckin squeezing me,”

I couldn’t respond, just nodded quickly while ecstasy started taking over my body, my nerves felt like they were on fire. I just kept riding him , my brain focused on finally reaching my climax.

“Greg, m’ close.” I sighed out and he let out a throaty groan. his breathing became a bit faster and so did my movements.

“I can feel it.” His index finger joined his middle finger as he rubbed my clit harshly and quickly,”I know you’re there so just let go. Cum all over my Fuckin cock like I know you want to.”

“Perfect!” I moaned out as my muscles tightened, my grip on the arms of the chair were tight, knuckles turning white. I threw my head back, my eyes were clamped shut, my movements started slowly so he took hold of my hips and kept my pace for me, even with the lack of pleasure to clit, my orgasm was still running through me.

I felt his cock start twitching, his groans becoming louder and more noticeable.

“Hope you took the pill this morning.” He commented, his nails digging into my skin as he finally came. Spilling deep inside of me, keeping most of his cock inside as he filled me up.

Soon he stopped moving me, kept me sat on his lap as his arms wrapped around my waist, holding his hands together as I grabbed one of his wrists. We were both catching our breath in the dim lit office. My body had a tremble to it, and he placed a kiss against my shoulder.

“I’d love to sit here and savor the feeling of your amazing pussy, but I have to clear a businessman’s blood so his brain can start working again.”

I let out a sigh as I shakily got off of him, his cock slid out of me and immediately I felt his cum drip down the inside of my thighs. I grabbed the edge of the desk as he fixed my thong and pulled my skirt back down. I turned around and leaned against the desk as he stood up fixing his boxers and pants.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he grabbed his cane and started walking away,”we’ll go to my house tonight.”

He left me with that, the door closed behind him and he walked away to the patients room. I sat down in the chair, my thighs pressing together and my head resting on the head of the chair. I don’t think working after hours is gonna be such a bad thing anymore.

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #dr. house #greg house x reader #greg house #dr.house fanfic #greg house smut #dr house smut #gregory house #house md smut #house md

[blorbocedes]

BROCEDES! ROOMMATE AU + UNEXPECTED VIRGIN!

‘Take a shot if your body count is more than 5!’

Most of the crowd drinks, even those with obviously shifty eyes and guilty demeanours. Lewis drinks.

He was coursemates with Adrian the previous semester and had to hear his bitching and moaning about the bitches he gets – the lack thereof, spots him drinking too. Nico’s standing at the end of the couch, expensive loafers careful to step around the sticky spilled beer.

He nurses his red solo cup, untouched. Lewis frowns.

‘Take a shot if your body count is double digits!’

Fewer people drink this time. The crowd goes ‘ooh’ at the ones who do. Technically, Lewis’ is 7 – 8 if you count the blowjob and her getting her period at the last second, opting out. But college athletes have a reputation to maintain, so Lewis finishes off his cup.

This time, Nico is watching him. Smiles when their eyes meet and does a mock salute, lips still not grazing his drink.

What the fuck? What could it be? It bothers Lewis that Nico’s not being honest. He's seen Nico half-lidded hanging off some guy’s arm at a party or cuddled into some girl to know better. Although, since Nico has access to all the population instead of 50%, it would make sense if his count is twice as high.

A pretty girl in a low cut top and blonde highlights taps Lewis on the arm to dance with her, and all thoughts of his roommate and how many people he fucks are forgotten.

A few hours later, the party has died down. Cold pizza and the music is less in-your-face, more indie. A small group gather on the floor playing the laziest truth or dare with a half empty bottle of Bacardi. The guy beside Nico is in an obnoxious leather jacket and tight pants, and his hand rests on Nico’s thigh.

It falls on Lewis.

“So… Lew-iss,” Natalie? maybe asks, voice slurring a little. “Do you remember when you first met Nico?”

Nico raises an interested eyebrow. Of course he remembers. However, Lewis is aware they asked the question because people think him and Nico are secretly hooking up because they live together, and since Nico’s seen with everyone. His teammate Felipe and his girlfriend are within earshot.

“Nah, man. I don't remember shit like that. I remember when I like, lost my virginity.” Lewis offers as bait.

Nico frowns, it's cute on him. Brows wrinkled up.

Naomi(!) bites. “Tell us about how you lost your virginity.”

“That's two questions.” Lewis leans back, flashing his most charming gap-toothed smile. Everyone's too drunk to keep track of whose turn it is.

Nico disappears off with Mr. Skinny Jeans.

It's a little while later when Lewis has smoked a spliff to clear his head, rejecting the blonde highlights girl’s offer back to her dorms which is on the other side of campus, when Nico returns, hair mussed and shirt buttoned more than it was when he left.

“Home?” He asks. Lewis follows.

Nico’s a pretty chill roommate. He grew up with a silver spoon and an only child, so he has no concept of sharing. Instead, when he orders Thai, he makes sure to order for two so that Lewis doesn't try to eat any of his dumplings. Lewis gets to have the flat to himself a lot since Nico disappears for the night, returns at early hours of the night with glitter on his cheek or bite marks on his neck and a cheeky smile before collapsing on the couch. Lewis can't complain, it makes bringing girls over easier. And when Nico is studying, he keeps to himself. Lewis will know, because there will be an extra coffee for him. In turn, Lewis gets rids of the bugs in the flat – the first time Nico seeing a cockroach asking if they should call pest control or sue their landlord for unhygienic living conditions.

“Why didn't you drink? At the body count question?” Lewis asks, breaking the amiable silence of their walk home, and the lack of filter signalling he was drunker than he thought.

Nico hums thoughtfully. “Cause that would be a lie?”

Lewis tries to make sense of that, doing math in his head. “No…? It wasn't about the exact number, just if it's more than.”

“Yeah,” Nico smiles, unlocking the door and stepping side. “That would be a lie.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. Nico and his riddles and his games. “It would only be a lie if you're a virgin. Which you're not.” He snorts at the thought.

Nico’s eyes flash dangerously. “Yeah?” Nico turns around, effectively trapping Lewis between the door. “You think about who gets in my pants a lot, Hamilton?”

Lewis feels a flush rise in his neck. Thank god for melanin, if he were Nico he'd have two giant red spots on his cheek right now.

“I don't care who you sleep with. Or don't sleep with.” Lewis tries to go for gruff, chill, but it doesn't quite land. He gets out of Nico’s cornering, going to the couch. “It's just weird you’d lie considering Jenson–”

“Oh if Jenson said it, it must be true.” Nico’s sarcasm is shrill and annoyed, betraying how drunk he is.

It does make Lewis pause. Jenson has a habit of embellishing stories of his conquests. The fated twins threesome never happened, he had separately hooked up with twins. Lewis remembers Jenson bragging in the locker room how he rocked Britney’s world and Lewis had worn his his shin guards with a little more force than necessary.

“Rock my world?” Nico rolls his eyes, leaning against the wall. “Hardly. We made out for forty minutes until he came in his pants.”

TMI because now Lewis is inundated of images of Nico, mouth swollen and bodies entangled while fully clothed.

“So you're actually a virgin? What about all those people?” Lewis is still trying to wrap his head around it. Nico is the most sexual person he knows. He eats yoghurt off the spoon distractingly, and has no shame walking around the apartment naked. Very sexual liberation chic, and Lewis had to draw up boxers boundaries.

Nico wrinkles his nose. “So you get with the easiest lay on campus and you're the only person he won't fuck. Do you want to admit something's weird and wrong with you, or do you just go about inferring you had sex? It's not like I'm going to correct them.” He must see something on Lewis’ face because he interjects, defensively offensive, “Don't ask why it's better to have a reputation. I know your tells. You drank twice.”

Lewis chooses his words carefully, gentle like he's not trying to spook a wild cat. “I'm not judging. I'm just surprised. Nobody figured it out?”

Nico softens at the tone. He sinks on the couch beside Lewis. “Honestly, you're the first person to notice.”

Lewis finds that sad. “Hey, we don't need to talk about this if it's a sensitive topic. I'm sorry I –”

“Jeez, Lewis. I don't have trauma, I'm just frigid. A pricktease. Nothing bad ever happens to a Rosberg.” Nico works on the complicated laces of his boots. He hates being pitied.

Lewis leans over. “It's really not all that cracked up to be. The first time, at least. Cause you're bad at it and you don't know how to pace yourself. Lots of people wait until they're ready. My first time, it was this girl I was seeing after GCSEs. We couldn't find a place so we got in my dad’s old Subaru. Lasted like 30 seconds. Wiped the whole place down but I was convinced he would know somehow. Come Sunday, I went and told him. He hadn’t the slightest clue. So that was an awkward drive to church.”

Nico gawks him, crumpling into himself laughing. Lewis regrets being a vulnerable and oversharer of a drunk. Nico’s gelled hair has come undone from hours of partying and falls over his eyes. Lewis is never going to open up to anyone ever again.

“On God's day, Lewis?! And you think I should save myself until marriage? Find myself a nice, righteous wife?”

“Someone you trust. Someone you're into.” The room spins a little. Nico Rosberg is a virgin.

“Someone who’d remember when we first met?” Nico challenges. "That's not very nice, is it? I can't believe you forgot--"

“You were checking out an encyclopaedia on space at the library. I wanted the Senna autobiography. We were 12.”

Nico’s eyes go wide. Lewis holds his gaze.

#I love roommate aus :3 what if the object of ur desire was 1 room away and yet the distance is greater than oceans #I hope you catch all the little references. and please!!!! if you enjoy it let me know I'll lore dump #brocedes #f1 rpf #my fics #I love friendship tinged with desire. this could've gone into sex right after virgin reveal but I wanted them to be friends talking first #roommates au

[optimist-pine]

Granny

Summary: You and Daryl have a secret confusing love language of insults

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,236

Era: Seasons 1-5(ish), The quarry - Alexandria

It had started shortly after your first encounter with Mr. Dixon. Simply a passing (slightly pointed) comment - nothing more - as some of you gathered around the fire that night.

Dale stands near the flames, removing a whistling pot from the heat. "Anybody want a cup of tea? Kettle's hot."

"Why dun'cha ask granny over there?" Daryl suggests, nodding towards you with a snigger. Merle's not around tonight, and so it seems he's found a way to create a bit of entertainment.

Your head snaps up when you realize you're the butt of the joke, hands stilling as you set down your work. A crochet hook or knitting needles find their way into your hands as often as that damn crossbow ends up in his; usually when it's too late in the evening to be doing anything else. "You know what? I would love a cup of tea. Thank you, Dale." You reply, taking the steaming mug that's passed to you with a smile that melts into a pointed glare the second Daryl's eyes meet yours.

The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. "Somebody get out tha' fancy china an' the biscuits an' we'll have ourselves a real tea party." He's prodding the coals with a stick, and in the darkness, the slope of his shoulders brings to mind the image of a caveman. The thought amuses you.

You nod your head, contemplating. "Hmm... I'd be down for that. In fact, I have a feeling we might even be in the presence of a tea party expert." You say knowingly. Sophia and Carol sit cuddled up to your right, and the little girl looks curiously up at you, cradling a well-loved teddy bear. You turn to the child, lowering your voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about tea parties, would you?"

She curls into herself a little, shyly. But at her mother's gentle urging, she nods her head, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

You clap your hands together. "It's settled then! Tomorrow we shall have a tea party." The last part is aimed at Daryl - you feel proud of yourself, but the confused look on his face makes you question why. It's like you've taken his accusation as a challenge to prove just how grandmotherly you can be, and funnily enough, he's probably right. You're actually looking forward to hanging out with Sophia tomorrow; she's a pretty cool kid.

Carol tuts softly. "After school." She adds.

"After school." You agree, shooting Sophia a conspiratorial wink.

Every time Daryl spots you working with your yarn he can't resist the urge to tease you about it. Maybe it's because you take every jest in good humor, or maybe it's because you always have a quick, witty comeback. He's never quite figured it out, but somehow it's become a staple of your interactions. Even though so much has changed, he's oddly glad that this hasn't.

One night, in the dead of winter, as the wind howls through gaps in the window frames you get an ornery glint in your eye. Daryl's already found your behavior suspicious, whatever current yarn project you've been committed to hasn't made a single appearance the entire evening. And the way you keep glancing at him almost nervously is... unsettling.

When he looks up again you're walking towards him, hands tucked behind your back, trying so hard to look casual that it doesn't take long before all eyes are on you. You stop in front of him and promptly shove a box in his face. No, not just a box. It's a present, wrapped perfectly in polka-dotted gift wrap with a glittery bow to top it all off.

He stares back at you, wondering what punchline he's missed.

You roll your eyes. "It's a gift, Daryl."

"Why?" He asks. He'd trust you with his life any day, but right now - with that box - he absolutely does not.

"Well, why don'tcha just open it and find out?" You taunt, shaking the present just a smidge.

He takes the box, feeling awkward and clumsy as he tears away the paper. Having never opened a present before - at least nothing like this that is - feelings of stupidity and excitement and pressure blend within him.

He dumps the object into his palm. It's cool and smooth to the touch; a black mug with white writing that says "World's Crankiest Grandpa".

You're trying so hard to withhold from laughing that your face is turning pink.

"Think ya could get yer money back on this one?" He asks, spinning the cup around to critique it.

You slap his arm lightly. "Ah, Dixon, you're no fun."

"She might'a hit the nail on the head there." Rick chuckles.

You sit back down, finally pulling out your yarn like all is now right in the world. "Ah, I found it a couple days ago. Couldn't resist. S'pecially not after the dream I had where you were yellin' at the walkers to 'git offa yer damn lawn'..." You shudder. "Took me a bit to get that one outta my head."

That earns quite a few laughs from the rest of the group. Once again, you've managed to lift the mood of those around you. It seems to be a habit of yours.

He turns the mug over and over again, running his thumb across the letters. He knows it's only a gag gift, but he's not blind to the effort that went into it. And it's not an exaggeration to say that this silly mug is by far the most thoughtful gift he's ever received.

He hangs onto that mug, using it proudly every day. Of course, it garners the occasional question from the new folks, but he doesn't mind. Soon enough he's got a matching handmade hat, scarf, and gloves as proof of your continuing love for the grandmotherly hobby.

When the prison falls he misses those gifts severely.

But then, Alexandria. The day he comes across you there on the porch in a creaky rocking chair, with your cup of steaming tea and a ball of yarn, the once-familiar urge to say something a little stupid and a lot annoying takes over.

He stoops down and leans in. "Where's yer glasses at, old lady?"

You wave your hand to shoo him away. "Ah, git yer muddy boots off'a my porch ya ol' geezer." You nag, the smile you're trying to hide peeking out like a sun ray from behind storm clouds. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, clomping down the steps. But it's not like he's trying to hide his own smile or anything... Not at all.

When he returns home that evening, there, sitting on the end of his bed, is a small box. It's perfectly wrapped in paper that's covered in birds and trees, encircled with a pristinely hand-tied bow. He can't deny the flutter of excitement as he plops down to unwrap it. It's like Deja Vu, the coffee mug tumbling into his palm. This time it's white with black lettering that reads "I don't always roll a joint, but when I do, it's my ankle".

With a snort he falls back onto the bed, letting old memories wash away the burdens of the day. However he can, whatever it takes, he'll hold onto the hope that you'll both end up old and gray and worn someday - together.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 1 #twd season 2 #twd season 3 #twd season 4 #twd season 5 #optimist pine

[mehidktbh]

I've Got My Eye On You

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After one incident of fainting while training. Your Lieutenant takes the role of keeping you fed and hydrated.

Warning: Swearing, war/military stuff, ED-related symptoms (??), fainting and passing out, guns, Ghost flirts with you... which includes pet names 👀 and training (punching/fighting)

A/N: Finally got my mac book working and fixed after waiting a whole 5 months, istg it's always Apple...

Taglist: @fatedeniedhope

You stand there watching the brutal nasty fight happen in front of your eyes, watching as two men go up against each other. The grunting can be heard amongst the cheering of other soldiers. Studying their tactics and every move as they attempt to knock the other person down, hands flying with forceful punches and hard kicks as one man finally gets pinned. Someone shouting next to you as he tries to motivate the fallen soldier to get up, his voice falls deaf to his ears as he taps out.

"Alright!" The two men head back to the line of soldiers who stand up proud and tall, listening to the yelling drill Sargent. "I want Y/N and Jet up front!" You snap out of your thoughts when someone pats your back, indicating for you to step up. Your vision is unsettled and you can feel the whole world spinning, you take your stand, knuckles clenched and legs tensed.

Staring directly at the man in front as he holds the same starting position. Through the split second, you hear the whistle blow as he begins to circle you slowly, his mind set on only beating you as he starts to wonder why you stand so weak. You continue to stumble around, trying to copy his feet as they overlap each other moving around you.

Your ears block out the yelling and the screams which your team urges you on. It all becomes too much when your drill Sargent spits his voice at you, forcing you to get in there more. But it falls deaf to your ears, the underwhelming pressure and heat are all too much, you watch in confusion as the guy across you looks at you with concern. But there's nothing to say as you stumble over, tripping over your godman leg before you plough straight into the ground. There's not much to see or hear as the sun is blocked from your eyes, you're met with the blurry vision of Price as he mouths something off to the drill Sargent.

But that was months ago and now you feel stupid for letting yourself get that low. There's that worry that hangs over the rest of your task force as they still ask you questions about that day. But never your Lieutenant as he instead worries in his own (special) way...

♡ ♡ ♡

There's a little knock on your door, harsh but not too hard you jump out of your skin, soft enough to know it's your Lieutenant. "Come in," You say not looking up from your desk as you continue to work, the endless paperwork won't do itself. "How are you doing...?" He seems a bit awkward when asking that question like he normally doesn't ask people how they're doing.

"I'm alright, need something?" You question turning around in your seat to find him sitting next to you on your cot, surprised at how he moved so fast. "I know you haven't eaten so I brought something." He roughly said, your eyes glistening with the urge to instantly rip open the grey plastic bag. You can nearly see a box of some sort sitting perfectly there, a neat knot tied together on top to keep the surprise inside.

You drop the pen and your mind from doing the paperwork, turning away from the pile of mess and instead facing Ghost as he begins to open the plastic bag. "You didn't have to." You say shyly, seeming appreciative as he shakes his head in return, "No. You need to eat, Y/N." You don't say anything and instead, just nod your head in appreciation and also agreeing with him in some way. Stalking his movements as he carefully takes the food out of the bag. His eyes catch your hungry craved eyes, a smirk hidden behind his mask.

♡ ♡ ♡

Looking down at the cards you sigh again, "Got nothing." "Ha! Ace and ten," Soap said cheerfully after beating you for the tenth time tonight. But you would never say that you were never in the game from the start, despite Soap explaining the game you had no fucking idea how to play.

"Give it'ere." Price said, catching the cards as Soap threw the pack to him, his hands instantly got to shuffling the deck. Gaz sat next to you on the floor as Price sat in front of him, Soap sitting in front of you. A perfect circular Arrangement with everyone's attention on Price as he shuffled the cards in the same movement and technique as he's been doing for years.

Through your eyes averted to Ghost in the corner of the room, his body leaning on the wall as he guards the window, his eyes scanning the premier. So you decide to walk over, let your Lieutenant take a break and play some cards. After such a rough day with Gaz nearly getting shot in his shpulder the team decided to camp out fpor the night.

Letting all the adrenaline you guys felt before melting into the floor and walls of this small dingy 'safe house'. "I got it, sir." Ghost looks over at you, your smile is reassuring but after a day like today, he seemed like the only one who still wasn't relaxed. He nods after a second of staring at you, picking his gun up from leaning on the wall but he stops right before his elbow touches yours.

"Had any water today?" You hum quietly, not looking back before you take over his leaning position on the wall but he still stood there. After a bunch of shuffling in which you thought was Price with his cards a cold water bottle touched your arm. Ghost stood there arm reached out as he nudged you on, signalling for you to take the bottle.

"I'm alright-" "Take it." Your eyes flicked between the bottle and his piercing eyes, fuck you could feel how much he was persuading you. "That's an order, Y/N." You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly as you take the bottle from his hand, he continues to watch you gulp the cold refreshing liquid down. His hand pushing up in a motion as he signalled for you to continue drinking when your lips were about to leave.

But after a while, he was satisfied, nodding his head when you could finally pull away. You were about to hum back thanks before he spoke slowly, the last word came out deathly quietly as you couldn't understand what he had just said.

"Good, girl..."

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost simon riley #simon riley #ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x y/n #simon riley one shot #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie a little fluff to celebrate I reached 200 followers 🥺🤧. Thank you so much! I love you all! ♥️♥️

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 (You're here) , PART 11

A little more of "The Mark of Nimueh"

Arthur: (Knocks the door to Gaius's Tower) Merlin!

Merlin: (opens the door) I'm on my way. Sorry I'm late.

Arthur: (Smiles at the feeling of deja vu) Don't worry. I'm getting used to it. (stops smiling when he notices the flowers on Merlin's neckerchief)

Merlin: Oh, uh. (pulls out the flowers) Gwen gave it to me.

Arthur: (jealous) You two are pretty close aren't you?

Merlin: (confused at Arthur's sudden question) Uhm.. Yeah, I guess? I mean, we just known each other for a couple of weeks so-

Arthur: Do you like flowers?

Merlin: Uhm... I do actually (smiles a little). They're a nice gesture but...

Arthur: But?

Merlin: It's sad they have to cut them. Just to die in days time. (thinking) Why did you say that?! He's going to think you're a sappy petticoat now! 😖

Arthur: (points the flowers) And you like forget me nots?

Merlin: I love them! 😊(puts the flowers back in his neckerchief). Not that I think the other flowers aren't beautiful. But there aren't many that are purple and-

Arthur: And you like purple.

Merlin: Yeah... (blushes, thinking) Why are we talking about what flowers I like? He never asked me that before.

Gaius: (interrumping) Sire? Do you have a message for me or...?

Arthur: (blushes) Oh, right. My father wants to see you inmediatly.

Time skip. Merlin and Arthur fighting with the Afanc.

Afanc: (Throws Arthur aside)

Merlin: Arthur! (runs infront of him and raises his torch to the beast, ready to use his wind spell)

Afanc: (blows the flame)

Merlin: Oh, fuck. (falls on his back when the beast aproaches him)

Arthur: Merlin! (covers him with his body)

Merlin: Your torch! Arthur, your torch! (points the fallen torch that fortunatly still has a little flame)

Arthur: (grabs it and raises it at the beast while still on top of Merlin)

Merlin: (thinking the spell so Arthur can't hear him) Lyfte ic þe in balwen ac forhienan se wideor!

Afanc: (is set on fire and dies)

Arthur: (turns to Merlin and gets to see just a bit of the gold in his eyes before it dissapears, thinking as he catches his breath) So this was also you.

Merlin: (Catching his breath but also nervous, cause Arthur is still on top of him and keeps looking at him directly in the eye) Ar...Arthur?

Arthur: (caress Merlin's face, concerned) Are you okay?

Merlin: (Nods, red to his ears) Ahm... could you...?😳

Arthur: Oh, right. Sorry. (stands up and helps Merlin to stand up)

Merlin: (covers his embarrasment with anger) You! You can't keep putting yourself at risk like that! 😡

Arthur: (shouts back) I could tell you the same thing! You came here to fight the beast alone, didn't you? Why didn't you come to me? (thinking) As you did last time.

Merlin: I had it under control! I just needed fire to defeat it (thinking) And wind and magic. But you can't know that! (says) I didn't want to put you in innecessary danger!

Arthur: (in shock for a second but then smirks) You care about me?

Merlin: (red again) N-No. But I can't keep my job if my master is dead!

Arthur: So you love being my servant.😏

Merlin: I... 😳(thinking) WHAT IS HAPPENNING?! 😨😱(says) It pays well 😠. (starts leaving as dignified as he can)

Arthur: The exit is the other way.

Merlin: I knew that! 😡 (goes the other way)

Arthur: (laughs a little and follows him, thinking) Do you love me already? When exactly did you fall in love with me?

Time skip. Merlin enters his room and finds a purple lily in a pot next to his bed. Surprised and confused, Merlin reads the note next to it. The note says "There are many purple flowers you just have to look for them carefully. Here is one in a pot so it doesn't die, but knowing it's under your care I bet it'll last a few days anyways. Don't go into danger alone again. Atte Arthur".

Merlin: (puts the lily back in the table and sits on his bed calmly... and then sinks his face in a pillow to scream)

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

[2jisungs]

OPPOSITES ATTRACT - CHAP. O7

SALMA’S NOTES; eid mubarak to all my muslim sisters and brothers! ramadan was surprisingly easy this year <3

[ TAGGING; @mellowdyverse ]

PREVIOUS - NEXT - MASTERLIST

jisung stumbled up the stairs, hurriedly rushing towards heejin’s dorm room. “2847.. c’mon, jisung, you can’t miss it. her and yuta are neighbours, remember?” he reassured himself, running an arm through his dark blue hair, only for a chunk to fall out as well. “my hair really is damaged.. we’re barely even four months into 2024 and i’ve dyed my hair five times..”

“shit, it’s 5:58!” he muttered to himself, face slightly going red as he realized he just cursed. his movements became even swifter and more rushed, but thanks to his good luck, jisung reached heejin’s dorm by 5:59, at the 59th second.. literally. “perks of having good luck, i guess?”

he snapped out of his inner dialogue, realizing he couldn’t just stand in front of her door like a creep. he nervously knocked three times, eyes glued to her door, which was covered in anime stickers, and in bold letters, had the words “KANG HEEJIN” near the top. “they let you do that here?” jisung thought to himself.

“jisung, you came!” heejin exclaimed, opening the door with a big smile on her face. she wasn’t wearing anything extravagant, opting for a simple grey hoodie repping their university and some black and blue checkered pants — but damn did she look beautiful.

jisung had to stop himself from smiling at the sight. “yea.. i was pretty excited, to be honest..” he told her, making her smile grow even further. at this point, she directly resembled those stereotypical dumb, football jocks, grinning ear to ear once the nerdy girl agrees to date him. (don’t judge his comparisons, okay? jisung likes romcoms.)

“okay, enough of just akwardly standing by my door, come in!” she said, fully opening the door, letting jisung have a full view of her dorm. it wasn’t what he had expected — he always thought her dorm would be more girlish, considering she’s into makeup, fashion, and just really girly things. but he’s never really interacted with a woman, he wouldn’t know better anyway. “you can head over to my room, okay? i’ll be getting snacks. it’s to your left.”

jisung nodded and slowly opened the door to heejin’s room, just to see a cat rushing to his feet. his heart almost melted at the sight. jisung slowly bent down and took the animal in his arms, letting out a soft chuckle at its cuddly behavior. he sat down on heejin’s bed, the cat still in his arms. he ran his fingers through its grey fur, when heejin finally came back.

“i think meatball likes you! he’s a really cuddly cat, but doesn’t like getting close to anyone, so consider yourself special.” she exclaimed, almost dropping the piles of nerd and skittles she had in her hands. she tossed them over to jisung and turned around again, heading back to the kitchen. “i’ll get a bowl and some more candies, we’re making candy salad!”

jisung chuckled and nodded, placing the candies next to him with his free hand, his other one stroking the top of meatball’s head. he looked down at the cat to see him meowing and extending his paws towards the packets of skittles. “do you want one, meatball?” he asked softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. “we’ll need to ask heejin first, okay?”

“i’m back!!” heejin exclaimed. “i brought nerds, sour patch kids, the watermelon ones, the cherry ones and sour straps.” jisung smiled at her being so excited to spend time with him, even if they just met. “oh, and the bowl too!”

“how do you have this much candy?” jisung giggled. “it’s honestly impressive.” heejin shrugged, sitting next to him in her bed, meatball meowing at her

“also, can meatball have skittles? i’d feel bad if i couldn’t give him some..” he asked, his silly question earning a giggle from heejin. he pouted slightly as meatball’s meows grew louder. “see, he wants some! please?..”

“fine, only cause you’re so cute and i’d feel bad if i said no.” heejin replied in a playful tone, her words making jisung flush a dark red. “what, ji? you are cute. you’re even cuter than meatball!”

“u-uh.. i.. thank you.” he stammered, eyes darting between her face and the floor, his hands glued to the cat still in his lap. “you’re also.. really pretty.”

“thank you, jisung! i’m putting on the movie now, can you empty all the candy packets into the bowl for me?” jisung nodded and quickly got to work, his heart still racing from being called cute by his crush.

nobody knew just how long it had been since he started crushing on heejin, and honestly, if they had asked, he wouldn’t answer. it was just too embarrassing for him, liking a girl for so long, and being aware that she’d probably never return your feelings. to be more specific, liking a girl since your freshman year in highschool, and to put it in perspective, they’re both first-year university students. at first, he was ecstatic that heejin got accepted into DBI, meaning that he’d get to see her everyday, but now he hated it — having to see his crush walk with other guys, kiss them, spend time with them, and wishing that was him was dreadful, to say the least. he could only dream of the day he’d get to call her his, kiss every perfect part of her (which was every part of her to him), show her what she’d been missing out on all these years.

was he jealous? yes, but did he have a good reason to be? to him, definetly.

jisung snapped out of his trance, realizing he was done emptying the packs of candy into the bowl heejin had given him. he watched as heejin climbed into the spot to the right of him, placing the bowl of assorted candies in between the two of them (and meatball, of course.)

he tried to clear up the tornado of thoughts running in his head, shifting all of his focus to the movie playing on the tv. jisung was so invested in it that he didn’t even notice when heejin slowly put her hand in his, moving the bowl of candies onto her nightstand, putting meatball in her lap and getting closer to him. well, that was until he felt his cheeks heating up.

“i.. uh.. w-what are you doing?..” jisung stammered, incredibly nervous at this point. he didn’t get an answer, heejin just flashing him a cheeky smile before going back to watching the movie.

and before he even knew it, his eyes slowly fluttered shut, resting his head on heejin’s shoulder.

“ji! wake up!” jisung woke up to a high-pitched voice, a pair of hands that weren’t his shaking him lightly. “the movie’s over.”

“d-did i fall asleep? i didn’t even realize.. sorry about that.” he murmured, getting up and stretching, a soft yawn escaping his lips. “well, i guess i can sleep over at yuta’s.. it was nice spending time with you.”

“can i at least walk you there? yuta’s my neighbour, and plus, you watched a movie with me!” heejin suggested, getting of the bed as well and looking up at jisung.

“s-sure..” jisung muttered, following heejin to the front door. he slipped on his shoes, leaving the dorm with heejin.

“thank you for spending time with me, i enjoyed it!” heejin thanked him, getting on her tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, watching the way jisung’s face lit up in amusement.

“i.. uh.. w-what was that for?” jisung stammered, eyes darting between heejin and the floor.

“my way of repaying you.” she teased. “i’m heading to bed now. good night!”

“good night, heejin.” he said, watching as she disappeared into her dorm. he opened the door to yuta’s dorm, his hyung already waiting for him on the couch.

“so, jisung? how did your little date go?”

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct jaemin #nct mark lee #nct jaehyun #nct yuta #nct mark #nct johnny #nct jeong jaehyun #nct jung jaehyun #nct jisung #nct smau #nct social au #nct social media au

[anonymouspuzzler]

everyone has been so darned kind about the update!! to everyone who has taken a peek at our work, explored the site, shared it with their friends, drawn fanart, done ANIMATICS, MUSIC VIDEOS, everything and anything - thank you, thank you, thank you!!

also here's a lot of little doodles i found i did during production that i completely forgot about until now. the last little comic is a True Story that happened when i was hosting the exhibition

[Image IDs/transcripts under cut!]

[Image 1 ID: A full-color, digital drawing of a puppet version of Puzz lifting up Wally on her right hip. Wally is smiling gently and waving with his right arm. There is a light green and blue gradient behind them, and rainbow text above their heads reading "THANK YOU!" with little heart symbols in several colors. End ID.]

[Image 2 ID: A photo of Puzz and the Wally puppet, with a caricature of Puzz's face drawn over where her head would be. She is wearing read heart earrings and has her hair in a curly updo similar to Wally's pompadour. She is smiling with her tongue sticking out, looking into the camera. Wally is also smiling into the camera, one arm resting behind Puzz's back and the other hand on her arm. There is an arrow pointing to Puzz with handwritten text reading "PUZZ!" in blue colored pencil, and various yellow- and blue stars drawn around the image. End ID.]

[Image 3 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Puzz sitting at a messy L-shaped desk. She is wearing a baggy black t-shirt over a striped long-sleeve shirt, a grey skirt, and tights with a swirly pattern. There is a laptop to Puzz's right, a takeout container and cup of pens to her left, and a monitor right in front of her. There is a close-up image of Eddie's smiling face on the monitor. Puzz leans in close with an intense, thoughtful expression, going "hmm...". End ID.]

[Image 4 ID: A black-and-wite digital ink drawing showing Wally watching in horror as Puzz, spinning in circles with a vapid grin, ascends into the sky with a giant box balanced on top of her head. Her tiny top hat is in turn balanced on top of the box. End ID.]

[Image 5 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of puppet Puzz and Wally. Puzz is standing in front of Wally, back facing the viewer, with an empty grin. Wally, who is about a full head taller, looks down at her with dumbfounded horror, apparently unable to comprehend someone being smaller than him. There are several question marks above his head. End ID.]

[Image 6 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Wally. He is leaning against a surface holding a phone, staring at the viewer with a gentle smile. He is holding the phone to his ear with his left hand and twirling the cord around his finger with his right. End ID.]

[Image 7 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Frank and Barnaby. They are recreating the meme image of two men in the snow, with Frank looking off to the right holding a small snowball in his hands, while Barnaby jumps up behind him holding a huge snowball, grinning widely and prepared to Dunk. End ID.]

[Image 8 ID: A black-and-white digital ink comic about Puzz and Wally at the Playfellow Exhibition. Puzz, wearing a N95 mask and dressed up like Wally, holds the Wally puppet on her left. In front of them is a woman with a short bob haircut and striped shirt, holding the toy phone receiver up to her ear. In the first panel, the woman says, "this is your voice?", to which Wally nods and Puzz looks on. In the second panel, the woman cheerfully adds, "you have a sexy voice!", to which Puzz and Wally both look shocked. The third and fourth panels shows Puzz and Wally looking at each other, then back at the woman. The final panel shows Wally covering his face with one hand and ducking his face into Puzz's shoulder in embarrassment, while Puzz and the woman both laugh good-naturedly. End ID.]

#anonymous puzzler art #welcome home #apparently necessary disclaimer of THAT PICTURE IS NOT CLOWN IT'S ME (bc people just keep Assuming Things) #also don't read in too deep to any of these images LOL most of 'em were just idle doodling during meetings. no Lore Implications to be had #only silly goofs and gaffs and laffs here #long post /

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 10

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: Tensions rise as two of your friends are found in a suspicious position.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m sorry if this sucks…writing this chapter sucked the life out of me.

Sitting in the ambulance doesn’t feel right.

You don’t think you deserve to be here, getting taken care of; while the rest of the gang goes on searching for clues. You lean against the van door, struggling to keep your eyes open.

You can’t bear to watch as the police lift Ethan’s body and wheel him into their black van.

You’re so tired that you can’t even cry.

You turn and bury yourself in the crook of Tara’s neck, trying to distract yourself with her warmth, her smell, her. She hasn’t left your side for a second since the paramedics arrived, and she doesn’t seem to mind you clinging desperately onto her either.

It might be how exhausted you are, or the fact that her comfort makes you feel so safe, it lulls you to sleep quickly.

It feels like a blink of an eye before you’re getting woken up to the sound of Sam interrogating Anika and Mindy.

“Found them just a couple minutes ago, they were knocked out,” Tara whispers to you, reading your face in the blink of an eye and knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

You inspect the pair carefully. They look like they’ve been through it.

Along with red marks all over her arms, Mindy has a little scrape of peeled skin at the top of her head.

Anika’s looks even worse.

There’s a huge purple-ish green-ish bump just right above her eyebrow. It’s in the shape of a perfect rectangle like someone had tried to knock her out with a brick.

“Where have you guys been?” Sam’s asking, sort of calm but sort of rough at the same time. There’s no doubt there is an underlying tone of suspicion in her voice.

Mindy sighs heavily, seeing right through the fake calm facade Sam’s putting on.

“Sam, we swear we do not know anything.” She’s saying, eyes wide. “We saw Ghostface coming, we ran! And the next thing you know we both got knocked out. I mean, look at the wound Sam. I know Ghostfaces have done this before, the whole hurt yourself thing. But I swear. Please, Sam.”

She looks put-together, all things considered. But Mindy’s always been one of those people, she goes through life swiftly; with nothing on her mind except for obscure indie horror films and her girlfriend.

She doesn’t sound like she’s lying, you’ll give her that.

“So you just left Danny alone?” Sam asks, clearly not as persuaded as you are.

Anika breathes loud, a sound of growing impatience.

“We were being chased. I’m sorry Sam but if it was between Mindy and Danny there’s no way I’m picking your boyfriend.” She explains, waving her hands wildly. “And we don’t even know if he’s Ghostface.” She ends, the last statement said in nothing but a hushed whisper.

Sam can’t say much about that. She breathes heavily, very much resembling the look of an angry dragon as she stands; towering.

You snuggle into Tara, deciding that you in fact do not want to be a part of this conversation.

She looks down at you and smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Then she’s wrapping her arms around you and slipping a hand in your back pocket.

She wiggles around in there a moment before you feel her fish something out and shift away from you slightly, smiling.

“Now what’s this?” She’s whispering teasingly, quiet laughter shaking her body.

You crane your neck to look at it, but all you see is a backside of a tiny piece of paper, all yellow and old looking.

Paper? You don’t remember having paper in there.

Tara stills as she reads it, her heartbeat under you quickening at a rapid pace.

“What is it, babe?” You question, tightening your grip around her waist.

She tilts her whole body to show you what’s written on the paper.

Scribbled crazily on the note in thick red liquid, are five words.

NITEHALK CINEMA - TONIGHT. BE THERE.

You stare at it for a long time, like if you looked at it hard enough it’ll dissolve into thin air. The words look almost anthropomorphic, threatening to jump out and grab you by the neck.

“Huh.” You state, turning to blankly stare at Tara. She blinks back at you, obviously also taken aback.

You guys have a silent conversation until Tara carefully untangles herself from you and makes her way toward the older Carpenter.

You see her hand Sam the paper, all eyebrows furrowed and soft voices. Sam snatches it from her, but your view gets blocked off when a paramedic comes to stand in front of you.

You eye her a little wearily, confused as to why she’s standing there.

“Hey, hon.” She says, eyes crinkling at the sides when she smiles. She has some age, you can tell, but she still looks youthful and full of life.

You relax, almost melting at her term of endearment.

You were always a sucker for one of those. Especially if they were coming from an attractive middle-aged woman.

You quirk an eyebrow, signaling that she can keep speaking.

“So, I had a quick look at the wound on your stomach there. You’ve got an infection, sweetheart. It’s nothing to worry about if you get to the hospital immediately.” She tells you, sternly.

An infection?

You open your mouth to answer her, tell her that there’s no way in hell you have enough time to do that, but Tara’s heading back before you can say a thing; and you mumble a quick, “Don’t tell her anything.”

Because the last thing you need is Tara fussing over you when there should be Ghostface hunting to do.

“So what happened?” You ask your girlfriend, grabbing and positioning her so she’s standing in between your legs.

She doesn’t say a thing about it, but you see the blush start forming.

“We’re going to the damn theater together, and we’ll end the motherfucker. Once and for all.” Tara says and then tilts her head to the side, eyes flirting between you and the paramedic as if she’s just realizing she’s here. “Everything okay?”

You cut in quickly, shooting the paramedic a look and wrapping an arm around her waist for reassurance.

“Everything’s great.” You smile.

-

“Aren’t we rushing into this kind of fast? Like..why are we going to a random place Ghostface clearly wants us to go to?” Chad asks, his voice betraying his fear for the whole plan.

You’ll admit, it was a sort of sudden decision, even for you.

As soon as Tara showed Sam that paper, Sam turned into an animal. Asking for papers from the medical staff still around and gathering all of you to listen to her new plan; excluding Anika and Mindy.

“Seriously?” Anika’s saying, right after Sam informed her that they weren’t invited to listen in.

Sam doesn’t relent, just stares her down with those fiery eyes she only has reserved for situations like these.

“If you want me to believe you, you’ll have no problem staying out of this,” Sam says, nodding matter-of-factly.

“Well, I don’t want to be kept out of the loop and die.” Anika mumbles, but backs down nevertheless; walking back to join Mindy dejectedly on the sidewalk.

Now, you guys are stuffed into Sam’s van, ready to take on the weirdo in the white mask once again.

Funny, this is giving me déjà vu.

But after Sam’s monologue last night, where the older carpenter had talked about sacrificing herself, it seemed to ignite a fire deep in you; one that still wanted to fight.

You know you’re not the only one who’s feeling this way.

One quick glance at the gang and you can tell everyone’s feeling motivated. You can only hope it lasts so long.

Well, everyone except Chad.

You contemplate reaching over and gripping his hand for support, but wonder if it’ll be weird because you haven’t exactly had the best relationship with him, but decide fuck it, we’re friends, and do it anyway. He sends you a nervous but supportive smile back.

Sitting still hurts. Any kind of movement only worsens the pain. It’s like the conversation with the paramedic opened your eyes because you can feel every little thing bothering you now.

By the time you guys get to the theater, your anxiety’s at an all-time high.

Beads of perfectly shaped droplets fall from your forehead at a rapid pace, and your heart feels like it’s up in your throat.

You push open the doors and try to quell your fears by acting brave. The facade disappears immediately when you see what’s in the theater.

You pale.

It’s a shrine. A goddamn shrine of Ghostface.

“Well isn’t this nice? Ghostface has a fan.” Tara mumbles, pushing past you to see further in.

Everyone slowly files in and looks around curiously, murmuring soundlessly between pairs.

You sway as you walk further in, head whirling. You stumble and hit a glass box, and you have to grip it to steady yourself.

You stare at Sam unloading the big black bag shed packed full of weapons from just last night, getting prepared.

It doesn’t help with the haziness. You need to get your mind off this shit…you need something. Your head drops to peer inside the glass box.

You think your heart literally stops when you see the collection of pictures, paintings, a summarized biography, and a bloody knife. A familiar photo makes your breath hitch.

Stu Macher : The Second Ever Ghostface

You blink. Try and steady your heartbeat by closing your eyes and sucking in a deep breath.

Just when you feel like you’re about to pass out, Tara steps up beside you, putting a hand on your back to help steady you.

“You okay?” She whispers, a concerned expression painting her features.

You look down at her, flash her a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah.” You try and say with as much positivity as you can muster.

She sees right through it, frowning so big you’d think you’d just told her you were Ghostface.

“I know when you lie to me.” She says pointedly, pouting.

You sigh, it’s no use to lie.

“No, I’m not doing great currently, but that’s not our top priority here Tar.” You murmur softly.

She punches you in the arm, with all the power of a marshmallow bouncing off you and crosses her arms.

“It’s a priority to me.” She huffs.

You raise an eyebrow. Tara wasn’t one to give you words of affirmation, but whenever she would, she’d get adorably shy.

She’s not this time. She’s standing tall and sure of herself, staring at you like if she lets her eyes off you for even a second you’ll run away.

You contemplate telling her about what the paramedic said.

You should, you know that, but you don’t want to worry her more than she already is.

She’s tired too, you can tell. It shows through the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way her hair is just a little more ruffled than usual.

Tomorrow I will, you think. After all this is over.

You settle for wrapping your arms around her and whispering an I love you in her ear.

Tara stills, obviously surprised at your confession. It surprises you too. You guys had never really said it before, even though you’re sure the both of you felt it.

“Um..I’m sorry. It just sort of came out, you don’t need to say it back. I understand.” You say quickly, sheepishly.

Tara quells your fears with a kiss, full of passion and urgency.

It feels like it always does, so goddamn dreamy. Her and her kisses never fail to send you straight into cloud 9.

When you pull back, you’re a little dazed.

“Well…okay.” You say, smiling goofily.

Her expression matches yours, albeit a little more composed. Her red cheeks and neck don’t fool you though.

“I love you too….idiot.” She says, adding the last bit to help put her racing heart at ease.

You snicker and shake your head. Your eyes drop down to the box again, but you don’t feel nearly as bad anymore.

“Man, I’m related to that guy? He looks like an alien dog.” You whine, only sort of half joking.

Tara chuckles heartedly and pats your back softly.

“He kinda does.” She murmurs.

“What does that mean…are you saying I look like that too?” You question, eyes wide and piercing, trying to look intimidating. To Tara, you look like a lost puppy.

“I never said that.” She quips, smirking. She’s teasing you.

“Yeah, but you didn’t rebut me so I’m led to believe you agree.” You press, forming your lips into a pout.

She reaches out to try and wipe it away, but you tilt your head; trying to fight for some semblance of control here.

She tries again, leaning to grab your face and kiss you, but you swerve as quickly as possible, a small part of you a little sad at the act.

The part that wants you to win this “argument” is bigger though. And it takes control once again.

“Nuh-uh. No kisses until you admit I don’t look like an alien dog and that I’m actually mighty gorgeous.” You say, proud smile; sure you’ve won.

“Oh really?” Tara smirks, leaning back until her back is pressed against the box and your hands on both sides of her waist.

She calls your bluff. “I don’t think you’d be able to take it; not kissing me.”

You have to bite back a gulp at her boldness.

God this girl was going to be the death of you.

You challenge her, happy to have your beloved banter with your girlfriend back.

“Funny…I vaguely remember you being the one who couldn’t keep her hands

to herself for a second. And who was the one that was so impatient the first time we had sex she tripped over and landed face first into the mat?” You tease, watching Tara’s cheeks heat up.

“Hey! We promised not to talk about that.” She grumbles, disregarding her bet from 5 seconds ago and tilting up to meet your lips.

You smile against her lips, victorious.

When she sees it, she huffs slightly, mouth still connected to yours.

“Whatever.” She says, pulling back.

“Guys!” Sam’s voice booms through the theater, echoing a couple of times before fading out.

Creepy.

“Get over here! Safety in numbers, remember? Who knows where Ghostface is? For all we know, he’s already in here watching us.” She continues to yell, watching as you and Tara saunter over; hand in hand.

Her words send chills down your body, and you’re suddenly aware again of your beating heart.

You look behind Sam, seeing multiple Ghostface mannequins standing tall. It’s scary how much eeriness some pieces of fabric can create.

“Well, isn’t this a dainty place to be having our conversation?” You chuckle nervously, turning your head to the left, then the right; where you see nothing but all 9 Ghostface mannequins from the Stab franchise, or in this nightmare reality, real life.

“Can you just shut-“ Sam begins, obviously done with your bullshit attempts at lightening the mood.

The lights turn off in the theater all at once, leaving you guys in complete darkness; all stunned.

“Up.” Sam finishes, and you can already hear her feet start to shuffle as she looks and grabs around.

You feel her rough hands as she grabs at your wrist and pulls, too hard for your liking.

“Sam- Could you be a little gentler please?” You huff, trying to weasel your way out her grip.

“What are you talking about?” Sam voices, but it feels kind of far away from you. The grip around your hand suddenly feels weighted. “I’m not touching you Y/N.”

Before you can react, the hand is coming up to your mouth and pressing hard, muffling any sounds that’ll come out.

“YN? Baby? What’s going on?” Tara asks, worry seeping through her words.

You try and scream, or say anything, but the sound dies in your throat when you realize there’s something pressed against your nose.

It’s a cloth: a smelly one at that. You realize what it is immediately, all those true crime documentaries finally coming in handy. Chloroform.

The fumes are practically shoved up your nose, and you feel your knees buck underneath you.

Fuck, Tara.

You wiggle and thrash around, but nothing works, the chemical’s doing its job, because in the next second; you’re gone.

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream vi #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #wednesday addams x reader

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

*

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

*

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

———————————————————————

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

[wosowrites]

Against All Odds (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

prompt: in which reader is a super buff boxer but gets all soft around Jessie, making Jessie’s teammates tease her.

a/n: for @woso-scotland

Growing up with 5 older brothers meant one thing. Chaos. The only time you all got along was when you were watching boxing on the TV. However, when you were 11, the middle child, Jacob, died. You had never heard the house so quiet, it haunted you to this day. He had only been 15.

But, 11 year old you wanted to make your family feel better, she wanted to give her family back the five boxers for children they had before the accident.

That’s why when you told your father you wanted to take up boxing, he didn’t say no. Your dad was your biggest fan. He came to every game, gave you tips until you were too good for them, and supported you through everything including your coming out. You were the only person in the family that had continued boxing, your brothers turning into architects, police officers and family men while you stayed nose deep in the world of boxing.

By the time you were 20, you were incredibly well known in the boxing world, and at the same time, a certain 20 year old was growing a name for herself too. Only in the football industry. However you would only meet Jessie Fleming years later at a gym…

You were ripped, to say the least. But not the kind of ripped that would go noticed to everyone. You wore hoodies and sweatpants and it made your build discreet, but the second you were in a sports bra and shorts it was undeniable you could take anybody in a fight.

Jessie met you at the supermarket in London. It was the middle of COVID and your boxing season has been cut short. You were wearing light blue Columbia sweatpants and a matching crewneck with a black mask. Your sneakers were white, but just barely as you only left your house for essentials.

You had always lived in LA which made the sudden move to London, England shocked to your family. But you knew you needed to get away from the world during this virus thing.

You turned the corner, holding a basket in your hand which was filled with vegetables, milk, fruit and some protein bars. As you did, you felt a cart come crashing into your legs and sending you flying backwards, landing on the ground.

"Oh my god! I’m so sorry," the young woman squealed, quickly leaving her spot behind the cart and rushing to your side. "It’s okay, i’m fine," you laughed, rubbing you knees and standing up. "I’m- Im so sorry I was just lost in my own mind and I didn’t see you," she apologized again. "What are you, Canadian? Enough apologies. I’m okay," you teased. "How did you know?" she asked, helping you place your own groceries back into your basket. "Know what?" you questioned, only realizing now how beautiful the girl in front of you was, or at least what you could see of her was. "That i’m canadian?" she said.

"Oh. I didnt. I was just kidding, but that makes sense now, and the accent," you laughed. "Okay American," she clapped back, rolling her eyes teasingly. "I feel like i’ve seen you somewhere," you said to her, narrowing your eyes. "Uh- no. Probably not. I’m your average girl," she said.

"So am I," you said.

The next week, you saw her again. This time, you had just come from the gym so you had on shorts and a tank top, showing off your features. Jessie was there too. "Hey!" she said to you as you met her in. the dairy alley. "Hi. How are you?" you asked her. "I’m good. And you’re jacked," she said, not so discreetly passing her eyes over your body. Usually, someone staring at you like that would make you self conscious, but the way Jessie did it made you feel good.

"Uh, yeah," you laughed. "Oh my god. When I left here last week I thought i recognized you too. That’s because you… box, right? On TV! A few of my teammates have a crush on you. They hate boxing but they love watching you," she laughed. "Oh really now? Well I don’t really care what they think but I care what you do. Because I recognize you too. Jessie Fleming, olympic athlete, two times world cup attender, and Chelsea player," you said, listing her honours.

"Stalker," she accused. "Yeah," you smiled. "Okay well how about I get to know you through another mechanism than google," you suggested. "You mean a date?" she asked, clearly blushing. "I do,"

But then the whole world went into lockdown again and your dates were more like king calls till midnight and face time dates.

Everything worked out though, because on this day of April 14th 2023, you were dating and more in love than ever.

Jessie’s Canadian teammates found out first. You had travelled to Ottawa with her for the celebration tour of winning the Olympics. Jessie had a video of you screaming your guts out by yourself in your apparement when they won the games. You were yelling, crying, and got a noise complaint the next day. But you didn’t care. All you wanted to do with your life was support your girlfriend, and that’s all she wanted to do with hers.

So, that’s how you found yourself front row in tiny little place TD stadium, sitting on a chair that was a little tight on your quads. Jessie scored a penalty, mimicking the one she did at the Olympics and you yelled for that too. You were probably the only American that loved the Canadian team more than anything.

After the game, the team walked around clapping to the fans and when Jessie got to you she stopped and hugged you over the barrier. "Come down, the security here is light," she said to you. So you climbed over the railing and hopped onto the turf. "Janine!" Jessie called, ushering over a blonde who had been talking to a man who looked like her brother. Janine jogged over and looked at you with wide eyes. You were pretty menacing to people who didn’t know you. "This is… y/n, my girlfriend," Jessie said. "You’re- your what?!! How long have you been together?" Janine asked. "Um, well we’ve been taking it slow a year but we made it official like six months ago," Jessie said. "Six. Months?!" Janine whisper yelled. "Hi, I’m y/n," you said, sticking your hand out.

Janine had clearly forgotten you were there as her her snapped towards you in confusion. "Oh, sorry. Hi, I’m Janine Beckie," she said. "Y/n Y/l/n," you smiled, shaking it. "Like the boxer?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," you laughed.

The introductions were then made in the Canada locker room which was even scarier as what felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes were on you.

"Okay. So I don’t do this… it’s not my thing but I thought after keeping our… relationship… secret for months you guys deserved to know. This is my girlfriend, y/n. And yeah she’s the boxer," Jessie said.

You blushed furiously and smiled at the girls who started asking questions all at once. "How did you meet?"

"She hit me." you said. "Okay woah! You need to add context there," Jessie laughed. "She hit me with her shopping cart," you added.

"Okay and what are your intentions. Because this is Baby Canada right here and she can’t play with a broke heart," Chappy said, summoning her motherly side. "My intentions are to never let her go a day without feeling loved and supported. My intentions are to… watch her play with a smile on my face and make sure she knows that she is the most wonderful person I have ever met. My intentions are to go broke because I buy all of her jerseys," you said, ranting a little bit.

"Okay softie," Stephanie said, winking over at Jessie and giving her a thumbs up. "Sorry to do this y/n but the post game talk is just for players. Gotta kick you out," Bev said, heading towards the door. "Oh right. Okay well it was nice meeting you all," you said. You turned to Jessie and gave her a quick kiss on the lips which she responded by placing her hand against your abs and kissing back before you left the room.

The second you closed the door chatter erupted in the room. "Okay Fleming I see your type now," Vanessa teased.

Teasing and more teasing echoed in the room, Even Bev chipped in.

But eventually calm settled over TD place and Bev started the post game talk.

The Chelsea girls found out about Jessie’s relationship at the start of the season… by accident.

You had called her after practice to let her know that your car had broken down on the side of this little street in the middle of suburb London and you were lost. She answered your call in the changing room.

"Hey Jess, can you come get me? My car broke down and the car repair people came and got it but they couldn’t give me a ride. I’m literally standing in this random street that looks like it’s in the middle of a forest," you groaned down the phone. "What? Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah. Im fine, just… it’s gonna rain soon Jess. I was coming home from visiting a friend and-"

"Babe, I’ll be there as soon as possible. Send me your location," Jessie said and then hung up.

"Babe?" Magda asked, the whole room silent. "Yeah. I have a girlfriend by the way and her car broke down so I gotta go get her," Jessie said, quickly putting on a matching adidas hoodie and shorts and stuffing her belongings into her gym bag. "Jessie! You’re giving four people a ride home. It’s your carpool day. Which means…" Niahm started saying.

"You are not coming with me." Jessie said sternly.

"Road trip!" Niahm, Lauren, Sam, Zecira and Emily said at once. "Wait. We want to come too, meet the girl," Pernille said, pointing between her and Magda.

"Please no," Jessie groaned. "Wait, who doesn’t want to come," she asked.

No one raised their hand.

"Everyone get in a car and follow mine," the Canadian exhaled.

Turns out you were thirty full minutes away, but that didn’t discourage anyone within the four cars trailing behind Jessie’s honda.

There was music blasting in every vehicle and when rain started pouring, Jessie knew you would be in a bad mood.

"Someone grab my phone and text y/n telling her i’m almost there," Jessie said, fumbling with her device and tossing it to Emily in the backseat.

Jessie saw you the second she turned the curve in the road. You had your hood up, your arms crossed and you looked ready to kill. She knew that you were just pissed off and would never hurt a soul, but to the other girls, you seemed positively menacing.

Jessie jumped out of her car and ran towards you, hugging you tightly. "I’m so sorry, everyone wanted to come and-"

That’s when you saw the four other cars behind your girlfriends, but you didn’t care, you just kept hugging her and let the tears of frustration mix with the raindrops on your face. "It’s okay baby, they were bound to meet me one day," you said, brushing her now wet curls out of her face.

You had excepted everyone to stay in their cars due to the insane amount of rain, but before you knew it, the entire Chelsea Women’s roster was in front of you in the street. Magda and Pernille hugged you gently, giving each other a wide eyed look as they both felt your muscle mass. "Holy shit. You’re the boxer. I watch you on TV like all the time," Guro said, eyes wide.

"Well so do I- I watch you, I mean. Not myself. I watch all of you guys," you laughed.

"Your Guro’s celebrity crush is what she’s saying," Jessie teased. "Well not anymore!" The Norwegian laughed.

You spent dozens of minute talking in the rain, the cold downpour not seeming so bad when you had Jessie’s hand in yours.

Eventually, you got into the front seat and banished Sam to Magda and Pernilles car to make room for you.

You talked to the girls in the car and answered questions that the Canadian team had already asked. But you didn’t mind because those questions just meant you were lucky enough to have Jessie Fleming sitting beside you.

"She gets super focused when she drives," Emily said. "I know, I think it’s because she’s a bad driver," you teased. "I’m not! It’s just the whole reverse thing is confusing. The cars go the opposite way then they do in Canada," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

You kept on looking at her, your eyes full of love. Jessie knew you were staring, but she just let the blush creep onto her cheeks and gave you a quick smile, returning the lovey dovey eyes.

Zecira snapped a picture from the backseat. The forest was clear through the windshield, and so were the droplets of rain. You could see Jessie’s blushing grin but not who it was directed too. She posted it to her story and closed her phone, enjoying the sound of the rain… and the one of Emily and Niahms arguing.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #jessie fleming #chelsea fcw #niahm charles #canwnt

[salford-blues]

The origins

A/n: It's been a couple weeks since I last wrote anything. I've been really busy and I'm burnt out :( Also this is my first proper written fic. I've mainly posted SMAU's, so if it's not good... I'm sorry. Would love to hear your critiques etc! Pairing: f1 x driver!reader Summary: The origins of our driver!reader - snippets of her growing up Warnings: butchered german??? Italics are the thoughts!

2008 - 5 years old

GROSSER PREIS SANTANDER VON DEUTSCHLAND 2008

The stands were crowded with energetic fans waiting for their favourite drivers to come out. Roars of laughter between friends and families. Piercing screams of devoted fans. In the middle of it all, a 5-year-old girl wrapped in the arms of her father with her hands over her ears trying to block out the deafening noise.

''It's too loud Papi. When's it home time?'' the girl pouted.

''Not just yet Spatzi (little sparrow). The drivers should be out any minute now.'' her father sighed. The child frowned and buried her head into his shoulder and neck.

Instantaneously, the crowd began to yell. Names were shrieked left, right, and centre. People pushing and shoving trying to get a picture or an autograph with their favourite driver. Luckily, the child and her father had managed to make it to the front without too much effort. They now had a perfect view of the track.

One by one the cars came out of the paddocks and lined up at the starting line.

''Who do you like Papi?'' the girl questioned, intrigued by the cars and their colours.

''I like Williams, do you see the navy blue and white car over there?'' her father pointed towards the middle of the grid.

''Uhhuh,'' she nodded, eyes lighting up at the car.

''That's the one that I really like. Which one do you like Schatz (treasure)?'' he questioned the child.

''Hmmm, I liikkeee... I think I like Williams too! Just like you Papi. I think I like the red car too.'' the girl's eyes shone as she spoke. Excitement now lacing her voice. There was a look of adoration on her father's face. Oh, how he loved his little bundle of joy.

''You can like whoever you want. The red car is a Ferrari.'' her father exclaimed.

''F-Fir-aa-r-ee? Ferrari! Yeah, I like that one too, but that one goes second!'' she said adamantly.

Suddenly, the cars were off, speeding down the track.

There was a glisten in the youngster's eyes. The screaming of the crowd was long forgotten. All she could hear was the vrooming of the cars. Wow, they're really fast. I want to do that.

''I want to be a race car driver when I'm older Papi! I'm gonna go really fast like vrrrrooomm." she held out her hands and acted as if she was driving a car.

2009 - 6 years old

''Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Spatzi! (Happy Birthday, little sparrow!)''

The young girl stirred in her bed.

''Wakey wakey sleepy head... you don't want to miss out on opening presents do you.''

At that comment, the girl shot up in bed. Her wide eyes glanced up at her father, excitement running through her body.

''Please can I have waffles for breakfast? Can we go see Oma? Can we see Mami? Oooh can we make those doughnuts with the sugar on top for dessert? Plleeaassee?'' she gave her father her best puppy dog eyes.

''Okay, okay. How about we open your presents first and then see where the day takes us? How does that sound?'' her father queried.

A swift nod of the head gave her father all the conformation he needed and with that, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her down into the living room. The room was decorated with brightly coloured banners, balloons stuck to the wall via sellotape and streamers hung from the ceiling. On the living room table, 6 presents stood tall and were screaming to be opened by a certain birthday girl.

Once set down on the ground, the birthday girl ran over to the presents. She picked the first one up, inspecting its size before placing it down and ripping open the wrapping paper. Inside a box of Lego with an image of a Ferrari. The girl giggled with excitement moving on to her next present.

The small child was down to her last two presents. Both were small and sat on the corner of the table. Small hands picked up the thin present that sat on top, tearing open the wrapping paper. A signed driver's card sat inside. Shock spread across the young girl's face. A signed piece by Kimi Raikkonen. This just might be the best present ever!

''Oh wooooow! Danke Papi! This is the best present ever.'' She ran over wrapping her small arms around the man's neck.

''You're very welcome. But how about opening up your last one.'' he smiled at her.

She curiously looked back and took the present into her arms. The present was squishy under her touch. Possibly clothes? Carefully, the wrappers ripped open. A blue and white race suit sat inside.

''Do you like it, Schatz?''

''I love it! I love it! I love it!'' the girl twirled around with the race suit in hand.

2015 - 11 years old

''Hallo Logan!'' The girl ran up to the young lad. ''Do you want to get ice cream after the race? I'll ask Oscar if he wants to come too."

The blonde boy nodded his head and smiled. ''Yeah, I'd like that.''

''Okay, bye Logan.'' The girl waved before heading in the direction of her Aussie friend.

''Hallo Oscar! Do you want to come and get ice cream after the race with me and Logan?''

''Sure. Let me ask my parents.'' He ran off towards his parents.

Alone she stood listening to her surroundings. Loud chatter coming from children and parents. Birds chirping in the trees.

Hearing the latter she skipped towards the trees before noticing a small bird hopping around. Approaching the bird slowly, she scooped the animal into her hands and held it against her chest.

''I will help you little birdie! Papi, Papi look what I found. Can we help it get better?''

''Sure, we'll take it home with us.'' he smiled.

Strolling over were Oscar and Logan.

''What'cha got there N/n?'' Logan asked curiously.

''It's a bird... We're gonna take it home and look after it.'' She exclaimed.

''We are still up for ice cream though aren't we Birdie?'' Oscar peered a the girl.

''Of course we are Osc... birdie?? Why that??''

''Oh y'know... you've got a bird in your hand, so your new nickname is birdie,'' he uttered as if it was obvious.

''Ahh okie.'' A blush spread across her cheeks in embarrassment.

A whilst blew signalling that the race was about to begin.

''Papi, will you take care of it whilst I race?'' She turned back.

''Of course I will Spatzi. Now run along. The quicker you go the quicker you can get ice cream.''

yourusername

landonorris, georgerussell63, liamlawson30 & others liked

Ice cream dates just like old times. @oscarpiastri @logansargeant

View all comments

oscarpiastri Birdie delete this. This makes it out like we're all dating

> yourusername WAIT... WE ARENT????

>> logansargeant now look what you've done, you've made her cry...

>>> oscarpiastri We're not dating though???

user.1 why is Logan acting like a third wheel??

user.2 are they dating though? or is it two of them and then the third just tags along?

> user.3 I think they're just really weird friends

>> user.2 yhhh checks out

liamlawson30 annnd where was my invite?

> yourusername you weren't invited because you beat me at connect 4

>> user4 lmaaooo. Didn't realise y/n was a sore loser

>>> liamlawson30 you should see her when she plays monopoly

#f1 fanfic #f1 x driver!reader #formula 1 x female reader #f1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine