#this was an excuse to draw her with her hair from that one poster because shes fucking gorgeous i love her but then it got out of hand

[vypridae]

im fucking pumping out art with these guys

#velvette is in fact the tired lesbian done with the gays shit #this was an excuse to draw her with her hair from that one poster because shes fucking gorgeous i love her but then it got out of hand #xandraws #xanqueue #hazbin hotel #hazbin #velvette #valentino #vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #the vees #valentino hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #velvette hazbin hotel #staticmoth #vox x valentino #valentino x vox #voxval #valvox

[dawnagustd]

hours || jjk

⇝ title: hours ⇝ pairing: jungkook x f!reader ⇝ genre: humor, i think? | neighbors to lovers | smut | implied unestablished relationship to established relationship ⇝ summary: You walk across the hall and visit your neighbor Jungkook every Wednesday to drink, chill, sing some karaoke… watch some Netflix. But you always end up wobbling back to your apartment after hours of doing all kind of unholy things. Not tonight. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 3k ⇝ warnings: alcohol consumption | strong language | they’re both kind of bratty but cute | mentions birth control | pussy eating | edging | fingering | unprotected sex | pull out method | cervix touching/bulging | jungkook has a lip piercing and a septum piercing | uhh he puts his nose in her coochie lol | light tit slapping | teasing | throat grabbing | dirty talk | hairstyling (wink, wink) | missionary | cum shots | squirting | slight dom!jk | nipple sucking | breath play | crying | ass worshiping | aftercare | bam makes an appearance | naked jk… yes this is a warning and you will see why | i brought up BTR, i need to apologize immediately for that | discussions about relationships | i think that’s all

⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp​ and @monvante​ for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga​ for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

drabbles: the unholy drabble | nails drabble | keeps

“So are you spending the night or…?”

Jungkook props himself on his elbow so he can see you. He uses his fingers to comb some hair away from his face, revealing his flushed cheeks and a horseshoe septum piercing. Ask yourself how many rounds you’ve gone, and you wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer.

You came over at six, had a beer, did some karaoke, showed him some shit you learned in twerk class, and as some as the Netflix intro came through the tv speakers, your clothes were scattered all over his apartment and your ass was in the air while Jungkook fucked up your guts.

This is kind of a Wednesday night routine for you two. Has been for a few months. You’re just vibing and having fun with your hot neighbor, nothing serious yet. Right?

“As much as I’d like to stay—”

“Pussy.”

Your mouth falls open.

“Excuse me?”

He giggles until you reach for his hair and tug on his strands. You slide closer, trying to intimidate him but he keeps teasing.

“You’re pussy. You’re tapping out,” he repeats.

You scoff. “Boy, I’ve never tapped out a day in my life. Get the fuck out of here.”

Your thumb wipes the little smirk off of his face, but it returns seconds later.

“Your dick isn’t that good. Humble yourself,” you joke.

His cocky ass knows you’re dickmatized, but you still won’t admit it. 

“Whatever. You know I’ve been holding back.”

“And who told you to do that?”

“You,” he answers. “Oh, Jungkook! Please, I’ll come!”

You smack his ink-covered arm drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“You’re so full of shit, Jungkook. Okay, let’s fuck again, and don’t hold back this time,” you request.

Jungkook begins shaking his head, laughing at your persistence.

“Love, the only one getting that kind of dick is my girl so…”

“So what are you trying to say?” you ask.

He shrugs. “You tell me. You know I’ve been trying to see about that.”

An eye roll from you follows his statement. “Whatever, I’ve already let you know how it is.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say when you’re not stuffed with cock,” he gripes.

“Well, come here then. I’ll say it in your ear.”

You call him over using your finger, but he doesn’t move.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”

You throw the covers off of both of you, kicking the comforter until your legs are free. Jungkook doesn’t move initially when you spread your legs. He stays in a sitting position, letting his hair fall in his face while he smiles menacingly. His Calvin Klein’s hug his thick thighs, creating creases in his flesh.

“Well, show. Teach me. Make me aware,” you tease, using your foot to caress his calf.

“Careful, baby.”

His throat growls those words, his voice dropping octaves so low your pussy clenches.

“Why? Tired, hm?”

“You know that’s not it,” he chuckles.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your pussy gets wet just looking at him. Imagine being hot inside and out. That’s Jungkook. A gentleman, and the cutest weirdo immediately after. The sex is just the cherry on top.

You two just clicked, and the rest is history. Whether you need someone to act an absolute clown with or someone to fuck your brains out, Jungkook is that guy. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can never resist the chance to slide his dick in you.

“I don’t. So make me understand.”

“Ai yi yi,” he sighs. Then he looks at you and shakes his head. “...so much attitude.”

“Fix it for me.”

Jungkook nods then swiftly pounces on you. You start giggling, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re pushing it, you know.”

“I don’t care,” you retort.

Jungkook smirks. “Oh, you will.”

He lowers his body, leveling his face with your pussy. You can feel small puffs of air leave his lips and come in contact with your center. 

Jungkook brings two of his fingers to your entrance and prods teasingly, getting you riled up almost instantly. You grip the sheets and lift your lower body off the bed to chase his digits, but he doesn’t push in.

“Still wet for me?” he asks. Jungkook spreads your folds to examine your arousal, looking at you when he discovers that you’re soaking. “Damn, you are.”

The sound of your slick as your opening widens makes your cheeks burn with shame. You turn away, but Jungkook doesn’t like that.

“Uh, uh. You wanna get fucked, you gotta watch,” he says.

Reluctantly, you give him your attention and you immediately regret looking away. His messy hair and puffy eyes give you butterflies as you wait for his next move. You almost forget about how close his face is to your cunt.

Jungkook’s fingers slowly slip into your pussy. You gasp while they sink deep into your crevice. He knows the exact route and the perfect arch in which he must curl them to make your body quiver with pleasure.

Hearing your arousal filling the room entices both of you and Jungkook becomes eager to pick up the pace. Your hips buck and move in a circular motion to match his movements, creating a familiar build-up of pressure within your core. The sheets below you start to dampen from the juices dripping down your center.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers before he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good.”

Jungkook makes out with your bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of your opening. His hair covers his face, much to your disappointment, so you gather it all and keep it contained in a makeshift ponytail. 

Now that his face is visible, you can see the way his tongue swipes your pussy each time his lips part. You moan his name, swelling him with so much pride he can’t help but smile briefly. His fingers slide out of you but only so he can kiss lower and fuck you with his tongue.

The deeper he enters, the more pressure his nose places on your throbbing clit. His septum piercing tickles your center as he rubs his face in your pussy, creating a pleasant sensation that penetrates your core. 

Quickly, you lose control over everything. You can feel your stomach tightening, hear your moans getting louder, smell the desire growing stronger but you’re unable to grasp the one thing you so desperately want. It’s so close, but then, Jungkook snatches it away.

“Fuck, you asshole!”

Jungkook suddenly stops just as you’re reaching your peak. He withdraws and leaves you a whining mess while he laughs.

“Oh, now I’m an asshole?” His smirk never fades while he removes his underwear and tosses them on the floor. “I think I’m a gentleman.”

He looks over at the nightstand and sighs defeatedly.

“Fuck, man.”

“What?”

“Out of condoms,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? I can just finish—”

“No, just pull out, dude. I wanna get fucked,” you insist.

“Well, yes ma’am. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jungkook hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you on his lap. He keeps one hand underneath your thigh while the other one grabs his dick. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch as he strokes his cock a few times, using your arousal for lubrication before he aligns with your center.

The tip probes your entrance until it’s nestled inside and he no longer needs to hold his shaft. He redirects his attention to your clit, and he massages your bud as he buries his cock inside of you.

“Shit!”

Your back arches and your fist punch the bed. Inch by inch he fills your pussy until he can’t fit any more of himself inside of you. The fullness you feel from his girth leaves you breathless and panting.

“Still so tight,” he whispers. “...feels so good.”

Jungkook hovers over you when you lie down again and kisses you, leaving the taste of your pussy on your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth and arousal coats your tastebuds. Your moans are muffled but are still clearly heard. His name escapes your lips repeatedly as you beg him to fuck you.

“Ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Another kiss graces your lips and then another for your chest. He moves to your breast and does the same to your nipples, but envelopes the right one between his lips and suckles it tenderly. Your arms wrap around him to bring him closer as he starts nibbling your sensitive bud with his teeth.

He starts to move, setting a pace that has your toes curling instantly. You bury your face in his dark strands and beg him to keep going.

“Jungkook, please don’t stop. It’s so good.”

“I’m not,” he promises, sending waves of vibrations through your areola. His mouth feels so warm and moist against your skin. Hair raises along your flesh caused by both the chill of the room and Jungkook’s gentle touch. It’s a contrast from the way he roughly thrusts inside of you, but it’s the kind of fire and ice that has your body yearning for more. 

As if he can read your body language, he changes his position. A lewd noise pierces your ears when his lips release your stiffened nipple. The cold air makes your skin tingle due to the sensitivity and the presence of his saliva. 

Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His fingers comb his hair away from his face, revealing his flushed face, his pierced lip tucked between his teeth. The intimacy of the moment intensifies the pleasure growing inside of you, and your watery eyes begin to produce thick salty droplets.

“Feel good, baby?” Jungkook quizzes. “Does it really feel that good?”

“Yes, Jungkook. It…”

Your voice is so weak and raspy. You have difficulty speaking clearly, and articulating your sentences. Jungkook is very displeased.

“Speak up,” he requests. He slaps your tits, leaving you trembling and hanging on by a thread. Your pussy clenches around him, and he responds by squeezing your throat. “You feel that?”

You croak out a response. The best you can with your airways being constricted.

“Good,” he grunts. “That’s how my dick feels inside this tight fucking pussy.”

He loosens his grip and air finally refills your lungs, making you lightheaded. Your head starts spinning, your vision becomes blurry, and slowly the familiar feeling begins to form within your gut. Grabbing Jungkook’s arm, you try to warn him, but you are immediately dismissed.

“Nope. I’m not done.”

Jungkook opens your legs wider and his thrusts deepen. It’s like he’s trying to fit his entire dick inside of you, but each time he runs out of room. 

You can feel him entering your guts over and over. The blunt outline of his cock is faintly visible whenever it lodges itself in your womb. Your muscles clench tightly as you try your hardest to keep it together.

One thing’s for certain, he has been holding back. Now you’re addicted to this new side of him, and there’s no other way you want him to fuck you. It feels like no experience you’ve ever had; you can’t get enough, but your body can only take so much before you lose control.

“Ah, shit! You’re fucking tight.” Sweat drips from Jungkook’s forehead as he struggles to hang on. He’s drawing this out; savoring the moment just like you are, but both of you are nearing your peaks, and it’s only moments before you topple over the edge. “I want this forever.”

“You have it, though. I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. “I’m yours.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook’s movements stutter when he hears your voice speaking to him through your soft moans. Your words are like a match igniting a flame deep inside of him. He begins fucking you harder, like he’s on a mission to ruin you.

“Shit. Come on my dick, baby,” he moans, probably waking the neighbors. “Make a mess.”

At his command, your body gives in and chases the pleasure it’s been longing for. You scream his name like it’s the only word you know. Your soul leaves you lying on the bed and elevates to the ceiling, probably even further. You tremble and shake beneath him as the coil snaps inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure shooting through your veins.

Your arousal gushes out of you with enough force to push Jungkook’s dick out of you. He slaps your pussy repeatedly, milking you dry while he strokes his shaft. As you lay there, squirting out the last of your orgasm, you slowly return to your body, but you’re still basking in your post-sex daze.

“Flip over.”

Jungkook turns you on your stomach and straddles your thighs. He strokes his cock while he stares at your ass, still tender from all the spanking he did early. He slaps it with enough force to get a muffled moan out of you. Your head remains buried in the pillow because your body refuses to move an inch.

“Softest fucking ass on the planet,” he mumbles. “And all mine.”

You relax under his touch as his large hand begins to massage your flesh. You become more exhausted as the seconds tick by. Jungkook’s pants and moans fill your ears as he chases his high, and soon his breaths become shallower, indicating that he’s approaching his release.

“Fuck.”

Moments later warm droplets of his cum paint your ass while Jungkook cries your name. He plops on top of you, careful not to use all of his weight, and leaves kisses along your shoulder. When his breathing settles, he gets up and finds a shirt to clean your body. He covers you with the blanket when he’s done so you aren’t cold.

“Are you still with me?” he asks, and you giggle.

“I’m here.”

“Well, I wish you’d say something.”

When you turn your head in his direction, you find him standing there in all of his naked glory, his dick slowly deflating, but still standing at attention while he chugs down his leftover beer.

“Maybe you should drink some water,” you suggest.

He puts the mug down and raises a finger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back.”

When Jungkook leaves, the door remains open and someone else enters the room moments later. You don’t even flinch when Bam jumps on the bed, claiming his spot at the end. You’re just glad he’s finally warmed up to you. At first, you think he was a little jealous, but you guess he realized that with you in the picture, he receives two times the love and attention.

Jungkook’s footsteps make their way down the hall and he’s shocked by the sight of his pup lying beside you when he enters the room. 

“I see you two have finally become friends,” he points out. He walks over to the bed and gives Bam some love while he whispers to him. “Don’t steal my girl, dude.”

You giggle and shake your head, as if Bam would ever leave his side. You’ve noticed that he has been more drawn to you lately, but you think it’s just him getting used to you being around. He knows you aren’t going to steal his dad from him, so now he’s more open to spending time with you.

“Did you bring me some water?”

Jungkook nods. “Of course.”

He gives you the water bottle and you sit up so you can drink some. Jungkook sits beside you and waits for you to finish. 

You know he’s about to ask you something, so you quickly gulp down your water to get it over and done with. 

On cue, he speaks.

“You still haven’t given me an answer.”

“Ah,” you sigh. “I don’t know, Jungkook.”

“That’s not an answer. I mean no is fine, but I just wanted some kind of idea about where this is going,” he states.

You’ve thought about it, and dating Jungkook isn’t a bad idea. You’re just nervous because this is going so well and you don’t want to mess it up. However, the advice your friend gave you a week ago still plays in your mind.

“If you really need more time, it’s fine but I feel like you’ve been holding back too. I want you in my life, Bam wants you to be his mom, and—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, fighting back a smile, but you fail. 

“What is it?”

You set your water on the nightstand and grab his hand. You absentmindedly trace his tattoos, while you talk to him.

“I’m nervous because I don’t want this ‘honeymoon’ phase to end,” you start. You can see his shoulders droop because he thinks this is bad news. However, it's not. “But every day we grow closer, so why should I let my mind prevent my heart from being happy?”

“You are so fucking trashed,” he blurts out. “Did I really fuck you that good?”

“Jungkook shut the fuck up. I was trying to be deep. Leave me alone.”

You try to turn away and go to bed but he pulls you on his lap.

“Hey, I’m kidding. That was cute,” he says. “I got it. You like me, and I like you. Let’s just continue to take it slow.”

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. But just so we’re clear, you’re my girlfriend now by default because we just… Well, you know.”

“I’ll be that,” you reply. “As long as you’re my… boy boy b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend.”

When Jungkook rolls his eyes, you erupt with laughter, knowing he doesn’t want to admit he likes BTR.

“Whatever, go to sleep.”

“In my bed, or yours?” you ask.

“Don’t start.”

You both snuggle together on the dry side of the bed while Bam snores peacefully at your feet. Jungkook hugs you from behind and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

But your boyfriend has already tapped out. Looks like you’re the real champ around here.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #thekpopuniverse #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #kvanity #jungkook fanfics #fic: hours #sugakookitty

[babyxbunnyx]

Have you ever thought about being gay?

Summary: Working on a project with Ben

Relationship: Ben Gross x Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1460

Explanations: h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color

A/N: So this is my first time in a year writing again plus my first xreader story. Excuse any spelling mistakes, english isn't my first language. Hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) silently listened to his teacher talking about some new group project and how everyone should get together in groups of 3. The (h/c) boy didn't even bother, knowing well enough nobody is gonna ask him. So it didn't surprise him that he was one of the two remaining students. But, he was surprised when he saw who his partner for the project would be. Ben Gross. And Ben didn't look too happy having to work with (Y/N). He sighed, before getting up to sit down next to Ben. Before (Y/N) could even say one word, the brown haired boy interrupted him. "Look. We are gonna do my idea. Simply because it will be the best of this whole class." (Y/N) smirked slightly, before replying. "Are you sure? Cause I overheard Devis Ideas and man.. no one can beat her." While Ben gasped, seeming offended, (Y/N) had to hold back his laughter. He knew Ben and Devi had some kind of rivalery going on and the face Ben made after his statement was truly priceless. "How dare yo-" "Calm down Ben. I was joking. But yeah we can go with your idea. How about we meet at yours after school?" Ben seemed to think about it for a second, before nodding. "Yeah sure. My parents aren't home so they won't distract us from work." The (h/c) boy smirked. "Great. See you after school, Benji." As Ben was about to protest that his name was Ben, not Benji, the bell rung and (Y/N) left. He smiled slightly to himself. It was new to him that someone called him something other than Ben or Benjamin. Expect for some rather unpleasent nicknames.

After school, Ben was looking everywhere for (Y/N). He was about to give up and just go home to start the project when he spottet the (h/c) boy at the school gate. He sighed, before walking up to him. Since (Y/N) had his back to him, Ben thought he might touch his shoulder to let him know he's there. He expected (Y/N) to maybe jump a bit, after all he walked up from behind and it was a bit loud. He didn't expect the squeal that left the (Shorter/Taller) male's lips. 'Heh.. kinda cute..' Ben thought before he realised what exactly he was thinking. He felt his face heat up, embarresed by his thoughts. He cleared his throat before asking his partner if he was ready to leave. After a short yes, both boys left the school ground, going straight to Ben's house.

'Man didn't lie when he said he's rich..' (Y/N) thought when he entered Ben's house. After grabing some snacks and drinks from the kitchen, Ben took the (younger/older) boy to his room. "You can sit down on the bed while I make the script for the project if you'd like. Just be quiet" Ben didn't bother looking at the other, while he walked to his desk. "Oh but my dearest Benji, this my friend is a partner project. Means we will both be doing the script" (Y/N) smirked while Ben gave him an annoyed look. "My name is Ben, not Benji. But fine, grab the chair over there and help.. or at least try to help." While the (e/c) boy got the chair and sat down besides the other, Ben got his notebook and pens. He ripped out a page and gave it to (Y/N). "There. You could start making a design for the poster? I happen to notice some drawing of yours in your notebook earlier. I have to admit, they are pretty good" Ben smiled slightly when he noticed the other boys cheeks getting a pink taunt. "Oh uh thanks. And yeah I can do that. You just gotta tell me your oh so great idea, Einstein." (Y/N) smirked when he saw Bens face loose a bit of color, realising he never told the other about the idea. After that was done, they both worked in comfortable silence, for what seemed like minutes to them.

"Okay I have a few designs for the poster. Choose which one you like best so we can work out the proper design" Ben looked up when he heard the other talking, not wasting much time and looking over the scetches. While he did that, (Y/N) decided to check his phone. And he was fucked. He had a ton of missed calls from his mom and even more messages. "Shit.." Ben looked over, slightly concerned at how pale the other got. "You okay (Y/N)? Whats wrong?" "My mom called about a thousand times. I better get going its.. holy shit is 11pm already?!" Bens eyes went wide. "Holy shit. Is your mom gonna pick you up?" The (h/c) shook his head. "I'm just gonna walk. Its only 45 Minutes" Ben looked at him like he was crazy. "I don't feel comfortable knowing you'd have to walk that long at this time. If you want you can sleep over? And I'll explain it to your mom tomorrow?" (Y/N)'s eyes lit up. "Really?! Omg you are a life saver Benji!!" Before any of the boys realised what happened, (Y/N) threw his hand around Bens neck, pressing their bodies together. Ben hesitaded before wrapping his arms about the others waist. They sat there for what felt like forever, enjoying each others presence. Suddenly, (Y/N) broke the contact and cleared his throat. "So uhm..." he looked away, trying to hide his blush. "Where can I Sleep? And can I have some clothes to sleep?" Ben's cheeks felt hot. He just didn't understand why, it was just a hug. "Uh yeah so my parents would kill me if I used any guest room without permission so we'd have to share my bed and yeah I can lend you some clothes" (Y/N) nodded, still looking away. They both got ready for bed. While (Y/N) took a quick shower, Ben got lost in his own thoughts. He never really paid attention to (Y/N). He can't help but think about the things Ben noticed about the (taller/shorter) male. How he'd stick out his tounge when he was concentrating. How his eyes would start to shine when he got praised for his art, as if nobody ever did that. He also couldn't stop thinking about his own reaction to the hug. His heart was pounding hard, his hands got sweaty. He didn't want the moment to end. And god.. (Y/N) looked so cute with his blush, suddenly all shy. "......Ben?" He looked up, starring directly into the others (e/c) eyes. He hummed, trying to not get lost in his eyes. "You okay? I tried getting your attention for a few minutes now" Now he felt his face heat up again. "Uh yeah I'm good. Just lost in some thoughts. Lets go to bed its pretty late" (Y/N) nodded, getting in bed besides Ben. They stayed quiet for a few moments after the blue eyed boy turned off the light. "Hey Benji? Random question" Ben turned onto his side, looking at the other. He motioned for the other to continue. "Have you ever thought about.. idk being gay or something." (Y/N) was staring at the ceiling. "I uh guess yeah. But only recently. What about you?" He could see the other nodding. "There is this boy.. I think I really like him but that can't be possible. I mean sure we are in the same class but we barely talked... until recently.." The brown haired male sat up. "Hmm.. if you aren't sure what you feel why don't you just ask him out on a date? Worst thing that could happen is he says no or you don't have feelings" "You're right... Benji?" Ben hummed. "D-Do you wanna go on a date with me?" Ben felt like his heart is gonna jump out of his chest. He felt his face lit up, as it did many times today. He felt (Y/N) shaking a bit, waiting for Ben's awnser. "Y-Yeah sure! When do you wanna go?" The (h/c) boys eyes lit up. "Sunday? If you're free?" Ben nodded, feeling exited. He layed back down, closing his eyes. "I'll pick you up at 2." The dark haired male heard a little squeal before he felt a weight on him. When he looked down, he only saw the others hair. He let out a quiet laugh, before wrapping an arm around (Y/N). "Sleep well Benji" Ben could feel the (taller/shorter) relax. "Sleep well (Y/N).." And with that, they went to bed, feeling exited for their date.

#ben gross #ben gross x reader #ben gross x male reader #nhie x reader #nhie netflix

[hotxcheeto]

Ellie x Fem Reader, where they go to the gun range in Jackson, and the reader is a badass, later they stargaze together at night overlooking Jackson, and they are together.

━ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x G/N!Reader 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing? A lot of fluff, they use a gun like once

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I kind of hate this but it's also kind of cute

"Ellie I'm gonna bust this door down, are you even awake?" The door then flung open just as you went to knock again. "Yeah, sorry." "Dude, I've been knocking for like twenty minutes. You good?" She nodded out of breath, giving you a slight smile.

"Sorry, I took a nap-" "You sleep like a dead animal, Christ." You crossed your arms as she backed up allowing you to step inside. Ellie looked down at the floor with a flustered face, scratching the back of her neck.

"I just have to change my pants." "Oo, thanks for inviting me in then." You winked at her, missing the slight awe on her face as you walked towards her desk. Looking at all her posters and desk ornaments.

"Nice stuff." "Thanks-" "You like Savage Starlight?" You turned around to look at her as she was putting her pants on. A light coat of pink dusting her cheeks when you met her eyes, not even caring about her getting dressed.

"Yeah.." "You're so much fucking cooler than I thought. Why don't we hang out more? I swear I rarely ever see you around." Ellie looked at you surprised, buttoning her jeans up while watching you look at some of her drawings layed out on the desk.

"You're really good at this." You picked up one of the pieces of paper before your eyes landed on an entirely separate paper. "Holy fuck, is that me?" "What?" Ellie could've sprinted at you when you said that, panic flooding through her body when you picked up a piece of paper.

Stumbling over herself as you examined the sheet.

A near perfect captured image of you drawn in pencil. Smiling, looking off somewhere else.

"This is so good. When did you do this?" "I don't know.. a while ago. Thanks..." She looked down at her hands as you examined the art. "Can I keep this? I want to show it to my friends." She looked at you surprised before nodding, her eyes on your fingers as you delicately folded the paper.

"Alright, ready to go? Our time at the range is gonna be shorter because someone sleeps like a corpse." You laughed walking towards the front door, Ellie hurriedly slipping her converse on.

"Sorry." "Not a problem, but you owe me extra time now." You smiled, opening her door up, stepping outside while she followed. "I'm glad we're partners now, by the way. Dina's always in my ear about how fun you are. You get jealous after a while."

You smiled at her, the girl returning it with a light pink dust across her freckled face. You two walked side by side, the evening spring air cool against your skin.

"So, how good of a shot are you?" You asked as you arrived at the practice area, two patrol partners already practicing. You leaned against the fence meeting her eyes. "I've heard good things." "Dina talks a lot.." Ellie laughed, looking away from you.

"That she does, yet you barely talk at all." The two partners finished up, both of you readying weapons as they backed off and took their papers down.

"Not that I mind, you're nice to look at." "Thanks?" She said quietly making you laugh, putting up the paper target. Then one for Ellie who thanked you for that as well.

"Let's see what you got Williams." You aimed your gun as did she, both of you firing off a few rounds. "Damn, better than me. No wonder they paired us up." "You're not that bad." "Yeah right, look at those shots."

You brushed some of your hair back from your eyes. "You're good at everything, this isn't fair." "Here.. you just have to raise your arms more." Ellie moved to stand behind you, grabbing underneath your arms lightly before pushing them upward just a bit.

"Like that." "Thanks, or was that just an excuse to touch me?" You teased, giving her a small wink making her flush and look away. "I'm kidding, sorry if I come off too strong." "Have you ever talked to Dina?" You snorted, putting the gun down.

"I say, we turn this into a competition."

And a competition it was.

It wasn't long when the sun began to settle below the horizon. Both of you deciding that you didn't stop talking just yet. Walking side by side down the path as the sky turned a inky dark hue.

"Told you, you were better than me." You laughed, bumping her with your hip while she laughed. "Not by much." "Don't be humble, it was cute when you got excited."

You turned onto the road your little house was on, slight disappointment spreading through your stomach. Your head then lolled back, looking at the stars above you both.

"I cannot believe we haven't hung out before this." You said, humming when the wind blew past cooling off your warm skin. "Me either." "I was starting to think you were avoiding me." "What?" Ellie looked at you slightly panicked, listening to you chuckle.

"No, just that you kind of never met my eyes, left when I showed up. It's like I couldn't quite catch you." She laughed awkwardly and looked down at her hands, your eyes finding themselves on her face.

"I'm glad we're partners now." "Yeah, me too." "Hey, are you and Cat still together?" Ellie shook her head. "No, we broke up a while ago. Better friends." You nodded and hummed.

"Oh, look it's... one of the Dippers." You pointed at the spoon-like constellation. Ellie looking up at the same time, both of you bumping into each other. "I wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger." "Really? Do you still want to be?" "Maybe." She teased making you smile.

"Fine, but I wanna be the copilot of the rocket. I've always wanted to go to Mars." "No way." You met her eyes as you stopped in front of your house, just a few houses away from Joel's. "Mm, yeah. Hey, are you busy tomorrow?"

You could physically see her freeze in the corner of your vision, her eyes going slightly wide.

"Yeah, besides our patrol.." "Cool, wanna hang out?" "Like a date?" She regretted her words as soon as you met her eyes, pinching at her fingers to calm her down. "Yeah, I didn't want to freak you out but, yeah, we'll call it a date."

"Okay...yeah." "Okay. Well, I'll see you in the morning, please, don't make me climb through a window to wake you up." You joked, walking towards your stairs. "I'll leave the door unlocked." "Good, see you El." "Yeah, see you."

When you looked back her eyes had found someplace on the the road. A dopey little smile on her face as she walked off.

A/n: I'm so confused

#ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie #tlou 2 #tlou part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #nevy writes

[hollywoodxwhore]

tatty daddy

Tattoo artist Colson x Reader

S/o to @triplexdoublex for my very first request. Hope you like it!

Warnings/Tags: Smut (18+), mention of tattoo needles, swearing, fingering, squirting

Words: 3313

Colson is not famous in this. He's a local tattoo artist. Hope y'all enjoy!

You had a mild tattoo addiction.

Yes, they were beautiful when they were complete, permanently scarred into the skin in any design someone could possibly want.

But you liked them for so much more than that.

You couldn’t deny that you liked the pain. Maybe that was something you should’ve taken up with your therapist, but usually you didn’t let yourself think on that too much. It was something about the controlled pain, the way it turned into beauty, a sharp sting that was almost pleasurable in its own right.

You’d been in the market for new ink for too long, and finally, a coworker pulled through, helping you to score an appointment with her cousin, one of the more renowned artists in the area. His work was stunning and exactly what you wanted. She’d shared his pricing, the location of his shop, and his name — Colson.

What she’d forgotten to share, however, was that this man was fucking gorgeous.

Your legs quivered slightly as the artist introduced himself, trying to be respectful when all you wanted to do was ogle him. Tall — at least 6’4”, fluffy, bleached hair, three nose rings — three! — piercings lining his ears, tons of tattoos, and an angelic face to tie it all together. You reminded yourself to yell at your coworker later for not having warned you.

“Here are a couple of designs I drew up,” he said, picking up some papers and turning them towards you. God, his voice was sexy, too. You looked over the designs, trying to stay focused.

“They’re both beautiful,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“We should see which one fits your body best,” Colson suggested. You nodded, flustered, and followed him into his studio.

The walls were covered with art — movie posters and tattoo images and pictures of who you assumed was Colson’s cat. His station was neatly organized, a tray already ready for you.

“You wanted it pretty low on your stomach, right?” he asked. His eye contact was making you weak. God, it had been way too long since you’d gotten laid.

“Yes,” you said, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt.

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the black chair beside him. You climbed on and awaited further instructions. “Go ahead and show me the spot.”

You swallowed and slid your leggings and panties down just enough to reveal the spot, right above your pussy. You were running out of places to put hideable tattoos, and you liked this intimate placement.

Colson leaned down, studying the area, and you held your breath. He held up the stencils, studying them, and then gestured for you to pull your pants back up.

“I think this is the one,” he said, holding up the dagger pierced through a rose. “Color? Black and gray?”

“What do you think?” I asked.

Colson shrugged. “I think mostly black and gray would be sick, but a few pops of color.”

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled and he did too, all charm. Shit, how were you going to get through this?

“I’m going to print out the stencil,” he said. “Go ahead and undress however you’re comfortable. You might want to remove your pants and underwear. We can cover you while I work.” He met your eyes and you nodded, mustering up a smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said. Colson nodded and excused himself from the studio.

Drawing in a deep breath, you removed your leggings and panties, folding them neatly and setting them on a chair in the corner. Colson had left behind a paper blanket to place over your lap, and you got back onto the table, covering yourself. Your hands were shaking, and not because you were nervous about the tattoo.

When Colson returned, he immediately slid his big hands into a pair of black latex gloves that looked unreasonably good on his hands. He sat down and touched the paper blanket, icy eyes meeting yours. “Can I move this?” he asked, and you appreciated him being so respectful.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip as he carefully slid the paper down towards your thighs, leaving your pussy barely covered, but it still was. You bit your lip, barely breathing as his gloved hands carefully placed the stencil onto your skin. You closed your eyes briefly as he applied pressure, ensuring the stencil remained on your skin as he removed the paper. You glanced down and couldn’t help but grin. It was going to look sick.

“We’re just gonna let that dry for a few,” Colson said, leaning back in his chair slightly. “So, you work with my cousin.”

“I do.” You nodded. “I was excited when she told me about your work.”

Colson’s eyes sparkled and he perked up slightly. “Yeah? Well, thank you for trusting me,” he said humbly.

“You’re talented,” you said with a shrug. “Of course I do.”

Something passed in the air between you but you couldn’t quite figure out what that was. Colson seemed to snap out of it after a moment, but you couldn’t help but notice his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Alright. You ready?” he asked, meeting your eye as he picked up the gun.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said.

Colson met your eyes and smiled. “Here we go.” He leaned over your body and got to work.

You hissed and closed your eyes at the first drag of the needle. The sweet, hot pain shocked your system slightly but you felt warm and tingly as you adjusted to it.

“You okay?” Colson asked.

You nodded. “Is it weird I kinda like the pain?” you asked.

Colson looked at you then, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to tell you that you were weird and then it would be awkward. Instead, a small grin graced his gorgeous features. “Nah. I do, too,” he confessed, then went back to the tattoo.

You relaxed as time went on and you and Colson conversed more and more. He was a great conversationalist and he had a talent for making you feel comfortable.

“Alright, outline is done,” Colson said, wiping your tattoo. “Need a break before color?”

You shook your head no. “Not unless you do.”

Colson shook his head. “Nah, I prefer to just get it done.”

You watched him dip into a dark red and get to work again. “Is this the most intimate spot you’ve tattooed?” you asked.

Colson grinned. “Nah,” he said. “I had to tattoo a girl, like, way upper thigh. No way to cover anything.”

“So, just pussy in your face?” you asked, giggling.

Colson laughed. “Yep.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mind.”

Colson’s cheeks flushed but he was smiling. “I’m a professional,” he said, narrowing his eyes to focus on the tattoo. “I was respectful.”

“I’m sure you were,” you said.

Colson wiped the tattoo, not meeting your eyes when he asked, “You got a man? Or a girl?” he added.

You bit your lip. “No…I’m honestly not really the dating type,” you admitted. “You?”

Colson chuckled. “You like tattoo pain and you’re not the dating type,” he said. “You must be the female me.”

You giggled, flushing with pleasure. “Monogamy isn’t my favorite, to be honest,” you admitted. “I like sex too much to limit it to one person.” You had no idea why you were being so bold, but Colson was responding positively to it.

“Word,” he said. “I’m the same way. Like, I’ve never cheated or anything but I don’t stay in a relationship for too long.” He paused. “It’s nice to meet someone who gets it.”

You met eyes briefly and you smiled at him. “Yeah. It is,” you said quietly. “You ever fucked a client?”

Colson cleared his throat. You could tell he was slightly flustered but he remained calm and collected as he continued inking your skin. “Of course,” he said. “A lot of gorgeous girls come in here.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “I’m tattooing one right now.”

You’d been holding it together fairly well until now. But his voice, his eye contact, and the way those black-gloved hands pressed just above where you wanted them — it was all really pushing you. You felt moisture pool between your legs.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” Colson murmured, smirking slightly before going back to work.

“Can I be honest?” you asked.

“Please.”

“This conversation and this tattoo are really turning me on.”

Colson smirked. “Good thing I’m almost done then,” he said. “Just some white highlights and you’re set. We’ll put some Tagaderm over it and call it good.”

You stayed quiet during the white highlights. As Colson set the gun down and leaned back in his chair, you noticed his black jeans trying to tent.

You quirked a brow. “Did you just tattoo this on me with a boner? You’re good,” you said.

Colson laughed and glanced down at his jeans. “I told you, I’m a professional.” His eyes were on yours again. He smirked at the way your breath hitched.

His words and movements were so casual and relaxed even though a suggestion hung in the air; it was making your head spin. He wiped your tattoo once more, then stuck the Tagaderm over the tattoo. “Take this off in two days in the shower,” he directed. “It’s easier to heal. You won’t have to put your life on hold for a week.”

“Does that mean I can have sex?” you asked.

Colson smirked and cleaned up his station. “It does.”

“Does that mean I can have sex with my gorgeous tattoo artist?”

Colson’s eyes rose to yours and he wetted his lips before smiling. “Naughty girl,” he said lowly, his words shooting right between your legs. He peeled off the gloves, then offered his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you off the chair.

He pulled you in and you dropped the paper blanket to the floor. One of his hands curled around your hip and the other cupped your cheek. “But yes you can,” he said, and then, his lips were on yours.

You whimpered softly into the kiss. He was an amazing kisser, but that was really no surprise. You placed your hands on his cheeks, pushing up on your toes to get closer.

As you pulled back for Colson to remove his shirt, his eyes caught sight of something behind you and darkened. “Fuck, you are a bad girl.” He spun you around so your back was to his chest. “Getting my chair all wet.” You gasped as he bent to kiss your neck at the same moment you saw the wet spot on his chair.

“I-I can’t help it,” you stammered. Your breath shook as he slid a hand between your legs and traced his fingers through your folds. He groaned, finding you soaked for him.

“Mm, so wet for me, good girl,” he purred. “You want this dick?”

You moaned as his finger circled your clit. You did want his dick, but more than that, you wanted something else. You turned in his arms and looked up at him demurely. “If I told you to put a pair of gloves on and finger me, would you?”

Colson’s lashes fluttered and he groaned softly. “Fuck. Of course,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. You watched as he plucked two gloves from the box and slid his hands into them, stretching out his fingers. Your legs quaked at the sight of him and you bit your lip hard, trying to maintain your composure.

Colson’s eyes were locked on yours as he moved closer to you, gripping your hips to shove you against the wall, thumbs pressing into your hip bones. Your breathing hitched as he leaned in to kiss you again, his gloved fingers finding the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He nudged your legs further apart and then traced a fingertip through your dripping folds, collecting your excitement before lightly circling it around your clit.

“O-oh god, Colson,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as his lips moved to your neck. You gasped sharply when you felt two thick fingers slip inside of you. The texture of his gloves reminded you of your little vibrator, but better with the way his fingers moved effortlessly inside of you.

“How does that feel?” he murmured into your neck, nipping lightly at your sensitive skin.

“A-ah fuck, so good,” you stammered, knees shaking as he began to pump his fingers slowly. He was teasing you and it had you borderline convulsing, desperate for more. You were so wet you could feel it on your thighs, and maybe you should’ve been embarrassed but at the moment, you couldn’t have cared less.

Colson chuckled lowly. “Your legs are about to give out, baby girl,” he breathed, and all you could do was whimper. Suddenly, he removed his fingers and you could’ve cried at the loss of contact, but then his hands were lifting you onto the countertop. You arched your back immediately as he angled his fingers back inside of you, this time driving his thrusts right at your g-spot.

You took a moment to admire the man before you. His bicep bulged as he worked you towards your high, his lips parted and his blue eyes dark. You’d never seen anyone so sexy before and you found yourself questioning all of your previous encounters. None of them had been as intense as this was. Your eyes raked over his body, down to the obvious bulge beneath his black jeans, and you reached forward to curl your fingers around it. Colson let out a low groan and he bit his lip as he sped up his motions.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, looking between your legs at his glistening gloves. “You’re so fucking wet. You getting close for me?”

All you could do was nod as your chest heaved, heat building rapidly in your lower stomach. His fingers were fucking you rapidly now, stimulating your g-spot so intensely that your vision began to ebb. Sounds were muffled and sweat prickled on your skin as a sharpness built in your abdomen. It was nothing you’d ever felt before and you had half a mind to be a little concerned, but you were too deeply immersed in the pleasure to really care.

As Colson’s teeth dug into your collarbone, he pressed the thumb of his other hand to your clit and rubbed sharp circles, and that was all it took. You lost it, ears ringing as pleasure exploded between your legs. You felt almost separate from your own body as you moaned and whined and writhed, spraying his hand and your thighs.

You trembled as you came down, clenching around his thick fingers as you panted, whimpering a weak, “Fuck.” Colson smirked, gently pulling his hand from you, and you slumped, eyes closing. Your eyes popped open at the sound of Colson peeling his gloves off, and his eyes met yours.

“Well?” he asked. “Was that what you needed?”

“Fuck,” you said, swallowing as you regained your composure. “That was…did I…?”

“Squirt?” Colson asked. “Yeah. Has that ever happened before?”

You were momentarily distracted from answering as you watched him adjust himself over his jeans. “N-no,” you stammered, cheeks flushing.

Colson smirked at you and came closer, kissing you softly. “It was hot,” he murmured. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him back in for a hard kiss, making him groan.

Your hands quickly dropped to the button of his tight jeans just as his slid up beneath your tank top, finding you braless, and he groaned softly as he pinched lightly at your nipples. You arched your back and his perfect teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he broke the kiss. “You’re fucking bad,” he rasped. “No bra.”

You mewled softly as his thumbs circled your nipples, and then you were shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs. “Colson, please,” you begged.

“Please what?” Colson asked, pulling a hand back to wrap it around his own cock and stroke it slowly. You were so distracted by that sexy hand wrapping around his sizable dick that you were surprised when his free hand cupped your chin and lifted your face to his. “Please what, Y/N?”

“P-please fuck me, Colson,” you begged.

“Mm, just because you asked me so nicely,” he said, gripping your hips to pull you to the very edge of the counter. He reached behind you, grabbing his wallet, and withdrew a condom. He ripped the package with his teeth and you watched his every move as he rolled it down. Then, his cock was pressed to you and it was hard to breathe. “Ready?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

“Ready,” you said eagerly, hips shifting slightly. Colson took his lip between his teeth as he rolled his hips forward slowly, burying his dick inside of you. Even with your recent orgasm, it was a tight fit and you flinched slightly, not used to someone as big as Colson.

“You okay, beautiful?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours as he paused inside of you.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Y-yeah, you’re just big,” you admitted.

Colson grinned, cheeks flushed with pleasure and he tightened his grip on your ass. You pulled at his hips, ready for him to start moving, and he did. A moan was ripped from your throat as your head fell back. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, digging your nails into his back.

“F-fu-uck,” you managed, closing your eyes. “Colson–”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, curling his huge hands around your thighs, bracing them on his hips as he rolled his hips, building up speed. He watched as your tits bounced in your tank top and he paused long enough to pull your shirt over your head. Immediately, his mouth was at your chest, warm tongue lapping against your nipples.

You couldn’t stop moaning; he was that good. He picked up his pace then, fucking you hard and fast, and you were both breathing hard as his hips stuttered, jaw dropping. “O-oh sh-it, Y/N,” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m so cl-close.”

“Fuck, me too,” you whined, watching as his hand descended your body to press between your bodies, giving your clit the friction it desperately needed. Your moans hiked up in pitch until your hips jerked hard against him as you came again. As you started to come down, Colson’s breaths came in short puffs and he closed his eyes, brow furrowing as he slammed his hips to yours, squeezing your thighs hard as he let go.

His head dropped to your chest as you caught your breath together, your hand wound loosely in his hair. He pulled his hips back and disposed of the condom. You hopped down from the counter, nearly collapsing on your shaky legs, and Colson laughed as he tossed you your panties and leggings.

“Shut up,” you said with a grin. “It’s your fault I can’t stand.”

“Not gonna lie,” Colson said, buttoning and zipping his jeans, “that was the best sex I’ve had in a while.” He met your eyes. “Would you be chill with giving me your number?”

“As long as you promise this will happen again,” you said with a grin as you pulled your tank over your head.

Colson grinned and leaned in to kiss you. “Bet,” he said.

You exchanged numbers then, wondering if maybe monogamy could be for you after all. Shit, you didn’t see a reason to keep fucking other people when Colson was that good. His eye contact communicated similar feelings and you left the shop, sore between your legs from more than just the tattoo.

Yeah, you definitely had a tattoo addiction, and you knew you’d just found your new dealer.

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk #mgk smut #colson baker smut #colson baker fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson x reader #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader

[ficsforeren]

🐇 anon back in!

im not sure if you’re doing requests dear but it’s my birthday in a few days and i’d love to request an sfw to nsfw eren drabble mmaybe if you have the time! ❤️ no pressure tho!

Ive just been plagued with eren and his stupid manbun and his stupid green eyes peering up at me when i either sit on his face or lap n have him call me bunny ❤️❤️❤️ bday wont as exciting with quarantine sobs so all i have left to excite myself is erens dick 😭😭 thanks honey!!

- 🐇 anon always lookin to get some of ur love

Hey there 🐇 anon! I've said this before but HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! You're cute and sweet and just so lovely, I am sending you good vibes all the way from Indonesia. Have a fantastic birthday, bb!

okay so I've never taken any requests before (and I'm not planning to because I'm worried it will take years for me to answer and I’d feel bad about making you wait) so I'm not sure if this is any good but I hope you'll like this!

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Romance

Warnings: cunnilingus, face sitting, unprotected penetrative sex

WC: 2,5k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

"Tired?" Your boyfriend, Eren Jaeger, asks the second you plop down on the couch beside him, heaving the loudest sigh you've ever made.

"Yeah, exhausted." You can't hold back your yawn. The clock on your apartment's wall shows that it's already past two in the morning. "Do I really have that many friends?"

The last three guests that came by to your birthday party have just left (finally) and now you're alone, sitting next to your boyfriend who's dressed handsomely in black jeans and a fitted navy blue button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was wearing a matching black blazer before, but took it off so he could cover your shoulders from the cold wind as you walked home from having an early dinner with your parents. Speaking of that, your parents love him. Probably love him more than their own daughter by this point. Eren can play the role of a perfect boyfriend if he wants to—not that he’s usually less than that, it’s just he has his ‘naughty’ moments too, ones that sometimes lead to childish fights. But that’s okay. He only does that so he has an excuse to slam you against the wall and roughly take you from behind.

Eren chuckles at your words, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you closer until you're placed on his lap. "Happy birthday, baby," he whispers, a warm breath caressing your neck. You tilt your head to the side, answering him with a chaste kiss before you let him place his chin on your shoulder. "Did you have fun today?" he asks.

"Yeah." Your arms linger above his, idly playing with his lean fingers. "But I don't think I'll do this again next year."

"Yeah?" His lips are drawing designs on the bare skin of your shoulder, as you are now wearing a white cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. "Why not?"

You let him brush your hair to the side, laying your head on his shoulder. Your neck is exposed, giving him access to more of your sensitive skin. "I think I'd prefer to spend my day with you."

Eren hooks a finger around your strap, dragging it to the side. "Just with me?"

“Just with...” The shiver runs down from your spine all the way to your toes when you can feel his tongue pressed flat against the spot where your neck connects to your shoulder. “Y-you...” His hand begins to roam, caressing your stomach before it trails up to your chest. At the sight of you tensing in anticipation, Eren smirks to himself, refraining from cupping your breast just yet. Instead, he drags his hand up to brush his thumb across your lips. “Getting impatient, Sweetheart?"

"You're such a tease." You spin around, settling down on his lap with your thighs trapping his in between. Eren shifts in his seat, allowing you to tangle your legs around his waist, his hand naturally finds its way back to your thigh, pushing up your dress. His mouth is scorching hot against yours, and you can taste a hint of beer and the chocolate birthday cake you shared with him earlier this evening.

"You haven't given me your present yet," you say between soft moans when he maps his way down to your neck, tongue trailing above your throbbing vein.

"You didn't like the necklace I gave you?"

"Eren, I love it." You bring him back to your lips, emphasizing your words with a deep kiss. "But what about your other present?"

"Ah," he coos, and you can feel his smirk forming against your skin. "That present. What do you want me to do to you?"

You bury your fingers in his hair, untying his hair tie so you'll be able to tug on his roots whenever you want. "You already know how to please me."

"But you gotta tell me what you want." You love him when he's being mischievous. You find him to be more irresistible and he knows that too. "I'll do anything for you tonight, baby. Say the word and I'll do it."

You nip on your lower lip, feeling your cheeks burning as you pull away, peering into his beautiful, beautiful green eyes that glow like fireflies in the dimness of the room. "C-can you, uhh..."

His smirk turns even more impish. "Yes, my little bunny?"

"Can you—" Just say it, you can do this! "Can you eat me out, please?"

Your line comes rushing like an unstoppable train, louder than expected and it stuns him. But after blinking twice, Eren melts into laughter. "I would love to."

You expect him to lay you down on the couch, or better yet, carry you to the bedroom. But Eren gently brings you back to your feet, settles himself down on the couch with his head pressed against the cushion. "Come here," he gestures with both hands.

You just stand there, staring with your heart palpitating. "W-what?"

"Come sit on my face."

If your life was a cartoon, you would've had your head blown in millions of pieces. "I—"

"Baby," he calls, displaying an innocent smile that stands in stark contrast to what he's planning on doing. "I've gone down on you so many times. I know what you look like." With a cheeky grin, he adds. "Love how you taste too."

You want to bury your face in your hands. "Oh my God."

"Just come here and get your birthday present already."

You asked for this. Well, not necessarily in this way but you did. With shaky fingers, you reach for the hem of your dress.

"No, keep it on. Just take your panties off." Eren's eyes gleam as he wets his lip. "I want to fuck you in that dress later."

Oh, God... You feel like you're seconds away from combusting into flames. Your knees wobble slightly as you climb up the couch, crawling up his body, and settle down your thighs on each side of his head.

"I'll be gentle," he seductively says, eyes twinkling as his palms slide up your thighs. Pulling up the hem of your dress to your stomach, you keep it there as Eren lowers your body on him.

By the next second, you can feel his mouth pressing hotly against your heat.

"Fuck," you hiss, one hand shooting forward to grab against the armrest, desperate for support. You can feel the vibration of Eren’s little chuckles on you, you can feel the way his tongue is sliding up and down, from your clit to your hole. His fingers caress your slit, spreading you and stretching you as wide as he can until you feel so bare and exposed, even when he’s done this to you before. Now that you’re spread wide apart, he dips his tongue inside. One, twice, thrusting his slick muscle into you as deep as he can and repeats the movement until you lose count.

“Wait—” you gasp, your hand going to his head and he moans at the sensation of you grabbing a handful of his long strands. “I feel—weird—”

Eren doesn’t stop, flicking his tongue over you. By the time his mouth finds your clit, you nearly suffocate him with your legs.

He breathes heavily through his nose, his hands moving to take hold of your thighs and keep them spread apart. He stops to take a breath, his head thrown back. “Felt good?”

You sound as if you just ran thousands of miles when you answer him with, “Felt amazing...”

His smile is cocky and you usually hate boys who sport that kind of smirk but when it’s on him? My God. Honestly, is he even real? It’s been a year since you first dated him and it still feels like you’re dreaming to have him in your life (especially in this position). He teases you a lot, sure, that’s already how he was, even months before you started dating. But he’s surprisingly thoughtful too. And observant, though most of the time he pretends like he doesn’t really care. This necklace he gave you—his beautiful, emerald baguette necklace that matches the color of his eyes, is one of the examples of that. He noticed when you muttered, “So pretty,” under your breath as the two of you strolled past a jewelry store on your way to a coffee shop. He noticed the way your eyes glossed over the necklace, staring longer for a few seconds before you averted your gaze away. It’s too expensive, you thought, but if you had money to spare, you’d buy it in a heartbeat. Eren noticed that.

“Come here,” Eren calls you, effectively snaps you out of your reverie. “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

He repeats this thing with his tongue that has your stomach lurch in delight and you can’t help but tighten your grip around his hair. “Move your hips,” he murmurs before he darts out his tongue. Every time you grind yourself against it—tentatively, at first, but the pleasure and the feeling of having this much control over him is so much that you can’t stop yourself from moving faster—you feel like you’re getting closer to the edge. The little moans you produce excite him and he brings his index finger to your heat, teasing around your entrance.

“Oh my God.” You’re going insane, now moving your hips up and down his finger as he slides it in. He adds one more, eyes going half-lidded at the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers. “Eren, Eren—”

“Yes, baby?” His tongue flicks against your clit again. “Are you close?”

“Fuck, yes—I—”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come, Eren, please—”

But Eren drags his mouth to the side, placing tender, playful kisses on the inner part of your thighs, drawing his fingers out of you to smear your juices on your skin.

You’re whining. You’re literally whining about it and you don’t care how embarrassing you look right now. You were so close, you even felt the knots inside your stomach tightening from the sensation.

“Why—” You choke out. It almost sounds like you’re sobbing. You fall back, sitting on his stomach with quivering legs. “Why did you stop?”

“’Cause I want us to come together.” He sits up, wiping the back of his hand to wipe the rest of you off his face. “Wouldn’t it be more romantic that way?”

You pout. “I hate you.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He raises his fingers, ones that are glistening with your juices. “Want a taste?”

You blush, looking away. “No.”

“More for me then.” He inserts one of his fingers into his mouth, releasing it with an obscene pop before he licks the rest off his digits one by one. “I wish I could describe how you taste,” he says, fingers moving to unbutton his shirt until you can see the toned muscles of his chest and the key-shaped pendant he’s wearing. “Sweet isn’t really enough to describe it. Addicting, more like.”

You can’t handle the shame. “Just shut up and fuck me, Jaeger.”

He chuckles. “Always the impatient one.” But he pushes you down to the couch, standing on his knees as he pushes your dress to your navel. “Well, gotta satisfy my queen tonight, don’t I?”

You gulp, letting him push your legs forward until your body is nearly split in half. He unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down just enough to release himself from his briefs. “Wait, the condom—”

“I wanna do it without,” Eren cuts you off, already rubbing the tip of his cock against your slit. “That’s okay, right, baby?”

It’s a bad idea, probably. You’ve never done it with him without protection before. “Promise to pull out?”

He smirks, spitting to his palm to lubricate his length. “I’ll try my best.”

Eren is so... alluringly sexy. If he told you that he was actually an incubus instead of a nineteen-year-old college student who slouches in his seat during lectures, you’d buy it without a doubt. “Just do it.”

It feels different without the rubber. When he pushes his tip inside, his eyes drooping as he watches you take him in inch by inch, it feels like you’re more connected to him than usual. Seems like he’s feeling it too because all the smirks and grins he has on his face before have vanished almost instantly. “Fucking hell,” he breathes out. “Remind me again why we haven’t done this before? You feel so fucking good.”

It’s him who’s losing his mind now, already picking up the pace before he waits for you to adjust. “Sorry,” he pants, hugging one of your thighs to his chest as he sits on his heels, your leg dangling over his shoulder. “It feels so good, I can’t wait.”

“It’s—” The friction still burns but it’s not something you can’t take. The expression he has on his face is worth every bit of the pain you’re feeling. “It’s all right.”

“Yeah? Well then,” Without warning, he pulls away only to flip you to your stomach, raising your ass in the air, and slides right back in with so much force, your arms nearly give up from supporting your weight. “I’ll go harder.”

Harder than this? You think, and he does. Even when he already knocked the breath out of your lungs before, that’s still nothing compared to how he’s moving right now.

Your hands are gripping around the edge of the seat, your pants and moans turn louder but muffled by the cushion. Eren’s laughter sounds a bit dark when he confesses, “I’ve been thinking about doing this to you all day. This dress you’re wearing—you look so innocent in it. Oh shit,” he throws his head back, hips stuttering at the sensation of you clenching your walls around him. “It makes me want to ruin you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Eren, I’m close—”

“Me too—ah,” his bangs are falling over his eyes as he leans down to plant kisses along your spine, his hand sliding down to squeeze your breast and another one finding your clit. “I love you,” he breathlessly says, lips brushing your nape. “I love you—all of you—” His thrust turns deep. “You’re so fucking beautiful—”

His words did the final push and you’re falling over the edge, orgasm washes over you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. Eren groans lowly, pressing his chest to your spine as he says in your ear, “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me, darling?”

“I’m sorry—” You choke out a sob as he tries his best to finish himself off, frantic hips swaying back and forth so erratically you end up lying flat on the couch, teeth gritting against each other to contain your voice.

Keeping his promise, Eren pulls away just a few seconds before he breaks apart. He pumps himself with his right hand and spills himself on your back, sliding his cock along the crease of your ass as he rides out his orgasm.

“Fuck,” he drawls out the word, falling on top of you. Placing lazy wet kisses on the spot between your shoulder blades, he softly asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble out, so spent and tired and satisfied beyond belief.

“Completely fucked out?”

“Yeah.” He laughs at your honesty. “Excuse me, Sir, you’re kinda heavy.”

“I know.” He titters but he doesn’t move and it’s okay. His warmth feels comforting even if you’re a bit crushed by his weight. “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I give this birthday present to you every day?”

As amazing as that would be, “I’m not sure my body can hold it.”

He smirks, whispering into your ear. “With more practice, I’m sure it can.”

***

#HAHHAHAHAA I'M SO EMBARRASSED BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager fluff

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts x Haikyuu AU

pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x f! reader 

genre: angst / fluff

warnings: a series of misunderstandings

wc: 2.3k

m.list. ~ taglist. ~

a/n: back by popular demand, another installment of the hogwarts x haikyuu fluff series featuring the Gryffindor quidditch team and one exceedingly persistent Iwaizumi Hajime. you may want to read the installment featuring one very smug Slytherin beater Kuroo Tetsuro (here) to appreciate the first scene in this story. 

“What are we doing here, Iwaizumi?” 

He’d grabbed your hand on a hogsmeade weekend, asking if you had any plans. You lied, crossing your fingers behind your back, telling him you hadn’t. So you find yourself seated opposite him in Madam Puddifoot’s, smothered by pink and white frills, surrounded by porcelain teaware.

By all appearances, it looks like a date. It should be a date. 

But it isn’t. 

Instead of chatting with you, he looks distinctly out of place amidst the swarm of happy couples with a scowl on his face, tapping his fingers so aggressively you fear for the survival of any crockery on the table. 

“I needed to check up on someone”, he tells you half apologetically. You follow his line of vision.  

Ah. 

Kuroo Tetsurou - Slytherin beater, top potions student, is seated cozily with Iwaizumi’s junior on the Gryffindor quidditch team. You heard of the infamous bet between them, you’re surprised if anyone in Hogwarts doesn’t know of it given the ruckus that followed when Kuroo swaggered up to the Gryffindor team to wager the fate of his hair for a date with their substitute chaser (the sole girl on the team).

“I see”, you murmur, twisting the lace napkin in your fingers. “I shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.”

Iwaizumi frowns, finally turning to look at you.   

“Huh? What d’you mean - I thought you wouldn’t mind since you’ve always been a good friend - ”

You catch a glimpse of a dark head of hair moving towards the door from the corner of your eye. 

“They’re leaving. You should follow them”, you interrupt his stuttering with a wide smile that hurts your cheeks. Iwaizumi halts his incoherent flurry of excuses, only sparing you a glance before grabbing the bill and dashing off in the general direction of Kuroo. 

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling. 

You should’ve known that he wouldn’t be interested in you. Not when he’s so painfully attractive (especially when Oikawa and/or the Slytherin team aren’t around to knit his brows into a frown), so much so that his bloody biceps have their own fanclub. Not when he’s so laser focused on quidditch and his studies and his teammates and his friends, running flying tutorials for the younger students, keeping Tanaka and Nishinoya and Hinata and Yaku from blowing up Gryffindor tower or running afoul of the professors.

It’s your fault for assuming, for hoping, for wishing that Iwaizumi Hajime, your housemate of 6 years, longtime charms partner and the boy you’ve harboured a huge crush on for the past year and a half - might return your feelings after all. 

You should have known. You’re not winsome. Why would you ever win him? 

Wishing otherwise only ruins the heart. 

So you trudge back to school alone in the snow, skirting past the Gryffindor team who seem to be in some sort of an uproar, only allowing yourself to cry when you’ve drawn the curtains on your four poster bed to make sure you’re alone. 

It is not terribly difficult to avoid Iwaizumi Hajime for the next couple of days, at least until charms class rolls around. You’ve sat next to him ever since you were both first years, when his voice hadn’t broken and you were still taller than him. That’s how your friendship blossomed, but you haven’t worked up the courage to face him just yet. 

So you choose to displace Daichi by stealing his usual seat next to Sugawara, pointedly ignoring the furrow in Iwaizumi’s brow and the confused looks he tosses at you until you flee back to your dorm after class. 

You’re being dramatic, you know. But you figure the best way of getting over Iwaizumi Hajime is to cut him out of your life, at least for now. 

“Yoohoo!” 

You turn to stare at Oikawa Tooru, captain of the Slytherin team, a classmate you’ve maybe exchanged less than ten words with in your entire Hogwarts career. 

He’s probably shouting at someone else. 

“Gryffindor-chan!” 

Nope. He’s definitely referring to you. 

You curse your parents for your laughably short legs when Oikawa effortlessly catches up to you in the hallway, pulling you into an empty classroom heedless to your protests. 

“I have a name, you know?” you snarl, snatching your wrist back. 

“You Gryffindors are always so fun to tease!” Oikawa lilts, head tilted to look down towards you. “Don’t be grumpy like Iwa-chan” - his eyes gleam when your lips tighten - “oh did I hit a nerve? Heard you’ve been ignoring him for a few days now.”

“It’s really none of your business”, you inform him pertly, inching towards the door. 

“No, it isn’t”, he agrees easily, with a smile you instantly distrust. “But I have a proposition for you.”

Curiosity kills Mrs Norris. It is no different for you. 

“What?” you ask, fingers already grasping your wand, ready to curse him at the first sign of trouble. “What do you want from me?”

“So prickly, just like Iwa-chan - no wonder you’re friends”, Oikawa teases, holding his hands up to placate you when you brandish your wand at him. 

“Speak or I’m leaving.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. You know - if you really wanted Iwa-chan’s attention, you should go on a date with me. That’ll show him.”

You stare at him. You’re not even aware that your jaw hangs open and your eyes bug out inelegantly. 

“What!” he cries, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart to get my best friend a girl he deserves.”

You gather yourself, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it for you?” 

“Well - you could sit on the Slytherin stands and cheer for my team, that’ll distract Iwa-chan to no end”

“Go to hell, Oikawa”, you tell him flatly. “Go to hell.”

You slam the door behind you. 

“Hey.” 

Iwaizumi Hajime springs to his feet the minute you step foot into the common room. You nod jerkily to acknowledge his greeting but you walk right past him, heading straight for the girls’ dorm. 

“Can we talk?” he calls after you when you’re already halfway up the flight of stairs. 

You pretend you don’t hear him. You think that should deter him, but Iwaizumi Hajime is persistence personified, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when Akane Yamamoto comes barrelling into your room yelling that the Gryffindor quidditch team is determined to breach the centuries old magical barriers barring boys from entering the girls’ dorms. 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Daichi thunder when you peer over the bannister. 

Yaku, Hinata, Tanaka, Yamamoto and Nishinoya are all dogpiled onto the staircase - now a steep slope, cheering Iwaizumi as he clambers on their backs, face set in determination. You giggle despite yourself as you watch Daichi flail in confusion when he notices his otherwise trustworthy vice captain in the thick of this mayhem. 

“IWAIZUMI!” 

“He’s boldly going where no man has gone before” Yaku tells Daichi approvingly from the bottom of the pile. 

“Charting new frontiers!” Hinata pipes up, though he immediately cringes when Daichi turns the full force of his glare on him. 

“To infinity and beyond!” Tanaka and Nishinoya whoop.  

“This has gone on ENOUGH!” Daichi roars, and the enchanted staircase clearly agrees with him, because with an echoing creak that eerily resembles a blech, the smooth wood of the slope ripples, rolling the entire Gryffindor quidditch team (sans Daichi, of course) into a pile on the common room floor. 

Even though the rest of his teammates are complaining laughingly and railing against the antiquated enchantments, Iwaizumi continues to stare stubbornly at you. 

It’s not over, his intense gaze promises you. 

You shake your head, heading back to the safety of your room. 

Your window rattles. The wind howls. 

You shrug it away as a particularly violent storm, burrowing deeper into your nest of blankets. 

Then you hear a loud crack. 

“We’re under attack!!!” you hear one of your roommates shriek before fleeing the room. 

The sorting hat must’ve made a mistake with her, you mutter under your breath, grabbing your wand before stomping towards the window. You yank the curtains back. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you sheepishly through the glass, pebbles in hand, hanging on to his broomstick in the gale for dear life. 

“Are you crazy?” you shriek. “Have you lost your mind?” 

“You weren’t talking to me”, he mouths, forehead creased in frustration. “I want to know what’s wrong.” 

Never mind your other idiot roommates cooing in the background at how impossibly romantic the entire situation is. He’s never once looked at you with any ounce of romantic interest, which is fine, really, you’ll get over that, but he’s making it so much harder by badgering you incessantly. You want him to leave you the hell alone, so you can lick your wounds in peace and mope to your heart’s content. 

“Get lost!” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You’re about to rip your hair out from frustration. 

“Fine. Meet me in the common room then”, you mouth back, hands on hips, looking decidedly annoyed. Iwaizumi doesn’t even pretend to look fazed, grinning at you as he speeds off. 

You trudge down the staircase, waiting until he tumbles into the common room, broomstick still in hand. There are far too many eavesdropping ears in the common room, and you have no wish to embarrass yourself more than he has already, so you march him to his dorm. 

Daichi and Yaku watch with wide eyes as Iwaizumi meekly follows your order to strip off his wet robes and get into dry ones now - or serve him right for catching his death from a cold. Then with a sharp muffiliato, you draw the curtains, shielding yourself from any prying eyes.

“So.”

“What can I say to get you to leave. me. alone?” you ground out. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you want me to leave you alone”, Iwaizumi replies, painfully earnest as he inches closer towards you. “Cos to me it seemed to me you just got mad with me right after Hogsmeade and I really don’t know what I did wrong. And even though Shittykawa kind of told me I’m a fool for not knowing what happened - maybe you’d want to tell me yourself?” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong”, you inform the godzilla toy sitting on the bottom of the bed (courtesy of his muggle mother, he told you once). 

“Was it because I left you at Madam Puddifoot’s? I was worried about my teammate and thought Kuroo was up to no good, but it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have left you to walk back alone.”

“It’s not that either”, you murmur, even though that memory stings. “It’s not you, Iwaizumi.” 

“Really? I’m having a hard time believing that given the lengths you’ve gone to avoid me.” 

“Really,” you emphasise, still refusing to meet his eyes. But you know he’s not convinced and you owe him an explanation, if only to get him off your back so you swallow nervously, take a deep breath and -  

“I just - I just really need to get over you.”

“Wha - What d’you mean, get over me? I don’t get it - ” 

Your temper flares up. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you, open mouthed. You itch to reach out and shut his mouth for him, but you barrel on to the bitter end - 

“Do I have to spell out everything for you?” you snarl like a cornered animal, frantically gathering up the remnant shreds of your dignity to piece it together into a makeshift shield.

“I like you, okay? I like you, Iwaizumi Hajime, and I got so ridiculously excited when you asked me to Hogsmeade that I didn’t realise you were only asking me as a friend. “ 

“I’ve liked you for so long that I need time to get over you, okay? Can’t you even give me that?” 

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop in the room. 

This is embarrassing, you think to yourself. This is embarrassing, and you shouldn’t need to put yourself through further humiliation by waiting for him to turn you down again. 

So you reach out to tug the curtains to make a hasty escape when Iwaizumi’s arm shoots out to grab your wrist. 

“I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?” 

“I said, I don’t want you to get over me”, Iwaizumi mutters, his ears turning so red you’re surprised his hair hasn’t caught fire yet.  

“Why not?” It’s your turn to make him squirm. 

“Because I like you too, okay? I didn’t - I didn’t really figure it out until you stopped talking to me and I missed you so much I swear on Merlin’s balls I was willing to try even the stupidest suggestions from my idiot teammates - “ 

“I could tell”, you interject dryly and he chuckles, cheeks bright pink. 

“Daichi was not pleased, let me tell you that”, he admits with a twinkle in his usually serious eyes. 

“But it’s worth it. You’re worth every bit of it.”

“Really?” you breathe. “You really, really like me?”

“Really” he says firmly, lacing his fingers with yours. “I really, really like you.”

“We’re a pair of fools then”, you say and he laughs aloud, a glorious sound you’ll never grow sick of.

“You both really, really are”, Yaku calls from the other side of the room. 

You both stiffen. You don’t even realise your conversation has stretched long enough for your hastily cast muffiliato charm to wear off. Now you can even hear Daichi trying to shush his irrepressible teammate muttering about ungodly six am practices that he’s not going to get enough sleep for if his idiot vice captain doesn’t get his love life in order soon. 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow”, he whispers, breath warm against your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow then”, you whisper back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he escorts you back to the foot of the staircase to the girls’ dorm, chivalrously refusing to turn away until you step into your room. 

You fall into bed, a giddy smile on your face. The foolish wish your heart made has come true. 

Previously: 

Miya Atsumu (Slytherin).~  Miya Osamu (Slytherin).~ Kita Shinsuke.  (Ravenclaw)~ Kuroo Tetsuro. (Slytherin) ~  Bokuto Koutarou. (Hufflepuff)~  Sakusa Kiyoomi. (Ravenclaw) ~

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu romance #haikyuu writing #haikyuu imagines #hogwarts x haikyuu #haikyuucafe #haikyuucreations

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? - Part 1

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All  Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.6k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

Humans always strived to be better, faster, and stronger. So it was only natural for them to turn to genetic manipulation. Splicing the human DNA with that of animals. Bringing about a new half-human, half-animal race called Hybrids. They were like most things humans deemed different, scary, and an abomination. They were not allowed to be independent in fear of rebellion against the elite pure humans. These Hybrids were soon seen as lesser compared to the pure humans and were quick to be sold as servants to the rich and shady, and pets to the common families. The only problem was when the families no longer wanted their designer pedigree hybrid they were either abandoned, sold, or worse.

Hybrids didn’t have a voice. They were not allowed to live on their own unless they were fully educated with a bachelor’s degree. Due to these standards, many were sent back to the adoption agencies to be rehomed again and again until they reached a certain age. Then they were put down to make room for more returned hybrids.

You were working with the government on a program that could fix the hybrid rehoming issue. Having presented your idea to the board they seemed interested and were willing to grant you a small fund if you could give them the results they needed. They gave you a handful of Hybrids, one being Jimin the poster boy for the government. He was genetically modified to create a male calico with the classic calico print which was only found on females.

They succeeded and though Jimin was a male his features were more on the feminine side making him seem too androgynous but not what the market wanted. He was left to be used as a model on new billboards and television advertisements for government services and legislations regarding Hybrids.

Another participant was your neighbor’s hybrid, Taehyung. He was a golden retriever and was volunteered by his owner, an older gentleman who recently lost his wife. He was worried for the young hybrid that one day when he shall pass he will be alone and scared. You were quick to guarantee him a place in the program to help him become more self-sufficient in case anything should happen.

You were currently packing your things, not that there was much, living in such a tiny apartment. However, you were preparing for a call within the week regarding moving into a larger government-funded home where you could comfortably house the number of new participants of your trial program. The place was fully furnished with everything a large family of hybrids would need, all you had to bring was your clothes. Everything else was paid for to create the perfect environment for the hybrids. Rent, utilities, food, and anything the hybrids needed were all reimbursed by the government.

Since it would be a few days before you would hear anything, you thought it was best to start thinking of activities for the hybrids to get to know one another. Whilst also basking in your last moments of freedom before devoting yourself to the program. 

On that note, you had finally finished packing and decided to spend your hybrid-free moments treating yourself to some food. Pulled from your thoughts of a delicious omelet by a loud ping from your jean pocket. A reminder on your phone in bold letters.

H-week!

Today marked the first day of your heat, this explained the nagging twinge in your back you had been ignoring, you thought it was from hunching over to pack. Searching your top draw you saw the empty blister packet of heat suppressants, great another thing to add to your ever-growing to-do list. The pharmacy was a little further than the restaurant you wished to visit but not too far out of the way. So you set off hoping to get back in time before it gets too dark, your eyes did funny things at night.

See you weren’t exactly human yourself, you were an experiment. The world was creating new hybrids and well, you were genetically modified within the same year as Jimin. Supposed to be the new designer breed the ‘Fox-Hybrid’. The problem was it didn’t work, you were born entirely human. Sure you were a bit more agile, and your ability to hear and smell things was better than normal. You were still essentially human.

Once a month since you were thirteen, you would get a strange feeling in your lower abdomen. When you discussed it with the scientists for your check-up, they had explained it was a heat. Whilst foxes usually had a heat once a year lasting three days, yours would happen once a month lasting three days but a lot milder. 

Since that day you have taken a low dose heat suppressant to nullify any pheromones. You were grateful because it wasn’t as painful or as long as a human period, but it wasn’t as debilitating or humiliating as a real heat.

You had grown up seeing Jimin on occasion and were familiar with how debilitating hybrid heats and ruts were. Even so, the two of you became friends, both failed attempts at modification.

Though you never understood why they said fox hybrids didn’t exist, you had seen them. Sometimes in grocery stores, restaurants, or nightclubs. They would be there, they would wink at you or wave, give you a smirk with a twitch of their ears or a swish of their tail. Were they mocking you for being a defect?

The only good thing accompanying your long journey was the music humming softly in your headphones. Used to drown out the loud sounds of the city, as your ears were sensitive. It also helped you ignore the side-eyes from Hybrids who would not so subtly sniff the air as you passed. 

You caught a flash of orange and looked across the street. A simple fruit shop that had a colorful awning flapping in the gentle breeze.

Moving around the store was a shopkeeper in a green apron, shirt, with his bronze hair sticking out underneath a matching cap. He was putting down a tray of banana’s and as he stood, a pair of ears and a bottle brush-like tail were visible, he turned as if sensing your presence and locked eyes with you, tipping his cap. He dusted his hands on his apron, leaving you shocked. A Fox hybrid in public! No one else seemed amazed or even spared him a glance. How could no one see this?

It was like a scene from a movie, as a truck drove past leaving the man looking completely innocent and human talking to a few ladies. He was quite good-looking and charming, but there was no sign of a tail. The women were quick to fall for him, purchasing an oddly large selection of fruits and vegetables. You turned back to the path ahead of you shaking your head in disbelief, before continuing on your way to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy catered for humans and hybrids alike and was never too busy. Which made it your favorite store to collect your script from, as there was little to no waiting time. Handing over the script, you strolled around the store wondering what you would need for these Hybrids. Toothbrushes? Combs? If they had a lot of body hair would they need the silky coat shampoo formula or the soft fur body wash? Placing the hybrid shampoo and body wash back on the shelf you shook your head honestly this was overwhelming. 

Rubbing your aching stomach, you were too uncomfortable to really get into hybrid care right now. You wouldn’t have to worry about any other heats apart from your own as it was decided with the board they would all be male hybrid participants. This stemmed from Taehyung being already a willing participant from the start, they thought it best not to mix male and female hybrids.

You would however have to deal with their ruts, albeit once or twice a year. You chewed your lip in thought pausing in the makeup section of the store. You caught your reflection in the small mirror and preened thoughtfully, your eyes were expressive and angular, your hair due to the modification was a brilliant copper.

You were quite beautiful, eerily so, like the man at the fruit shop. Your features were so similar. Even though you were a defect and he was the real deal. “Ma’am your order is ready.”

Turning surprised you grew hot in embarrassment, stammering to make an excuse, “Sorry, I was just thinking about a really strange fox hybrid at the fruit shop.”

Many occupants in the store turned confused and you heard an old man say, “Fox hybrids don’t exist, they are sinister creatures and not to be meddled with”

“She must be a conspiracy theorist,” one woman whispered to her hybrid snake who was donating venom for anti-venom.

Paying for the medication you left quickly and took one of the small pills as you stepped out of the store. Why didn’t anyone else see them?

You headed back towards your home, not forgetting the reason for your trip. You were excited about an omelet at your favorite restaurant when two apples came rolling across the pavement. 

They rolled towards you, quickly picking them up you carried them inside the store, “excuse me, sir you dropped some of your apples,” You saw his shadow in the darkened store, two pointed ears, and the flick of a tail.

“Are you a fox hybrid?” You asked curiously and he laughed. It was strange like snickering but at a pitch that was not fit for a grown man, like a child’s giggle sharper with a few squeals, or like a bird chittering. You know the sound. He was Gekkering like a fox.

“Thank you,” he took the apples gesturing you over to the side, “let me get you some blueberries, they are my favorite.” 

“Oh thank you, sir, how much do I owe you?”

He shook his head, thrusting a black plastic bag into your hands, “It’s okay, we have to look out for one another.” 

What a strange man…

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#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hydrid x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader fluff #bts x reader smut #BTSsly #bangtan boys #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[fireflykaizoku]

Lari my love, my Queen, my darling may I request a scenario of Ace being a daddy to his kids 🥺🥺 please thank you so much baby girl!!! xoxo *aqua tofana*

Val mi reina, my love! thank you so much for requesting this 😭❤ it turned out pretty cute awww *aqua tofana*

Ace liked being a father, he really did, but it was much easier when you were around. When you had to travel for a week because of work, the first day went fine, but after that, it was downhill. Thankfully, you’d be home in just a day.

Your oldest daughter, Rouge, was already a teenager, and while you knew how to deal with her, your husband didn’t. To him, she was still his child who would never grow up. The younger daughter, Ann, was six, and she was an angel, and was daddy’s girl. And your youngest child was Sabo, your three year old son who spent most of his time with Ace.

— Hey, dad. — Rouge said while walking in the kitchen where her father was. — I’ll go out with my friends tonight, but I’ll be home before my curfew.

— Ah, sure! — he smiled. — Do you want me to drive you there? I’ll finish dinner and we can go.

— No, no! It’s not needed.

— Is it far from here? Don’t worry, I’ll drive you.

— Dad, my friend’s parents don’t drive them anywhere. It’s… embarrassing. — the girl rolled her eyes, heading to the door. — Bye.

Ace knew how teenagers were, he knew they don’t want to be seen around their parents and would eventually have their own lives. But it felt like it happened so fast, it felt like she having tea parties with him just yesterday. The man couldn’t help feeling a little sad, until Sabo and Ann arrived in the kitchen, showing the drawings they just made.

Before dinner, the kids asked for a candy, just one. And your husband couldn’t simply say no to their puppy faces. He also tried to make their favorite meal, which wasn’t as good as you made, but it was decent. Ann and Sabo said it was delicious! The two always made him feel better even when he wasn’t doing the best job.

They watched a few Disney movies until bedtime. This time, the two didn’t want some story from a book. Instead, they asked the story of how you and Ace met.

Just a few hours later, the raven haired man was sitting on the couch watching TV, when he heard the door open. He saw his older daughter finally arriving, just before her curfew, the young woman was very responsible after all. Rouge seemed to be drying her tears, which made Ace worry.

— What happened, baby? — he widened his eyes. — Are you hurt?

— No, dad. I’m just… Tired. I’ll go to bed. — she was about to go upstairs, but Ace wasn’t buying her excuse.

— Tell me, who do I need to hit?

The girl couldn’t help giggling a little, her father was the sweetest person, but if anyone dared to hurt one of his children or his loved ones, he would turn into a completely different person. She knew his question was no joke.

— It… Doesn’t matter. It’s alright. — her voice started to break.

— Rouge… I’ve known you since the second you were born. I know when you’re not alright. If you tell me, I promise I won’t hit anyone. I know I’m not your mom, and she probably knows how to deal with some emotions better than I do. But… I can try.

She sighed and sat on the couch next to her father, head resting on his shoulder and she started crying quietly. Ace tried to dry her tears and waited until she felt comfortable enough to open up.

— This boy I was seeing… — Ace gasped. His baby, his precious daughter was seeing a boy?! — He just… called me and dumped me. He didn’t even say it face to face!

— Give me his name and address.

— Dad, no! — she held his arm when he was about to get up. His intention was to get the car keys and have a little conversation with the boy who hurt his daughter. — Don’t get in trouble. It’s not worth it. I’m just… So sad, feeling like I can’t be loved.

Hearing this broke Ace’s heart. You and him loved her so much, even before she was born. You two took care of her, loved her, just so a guy could hurt her like this?

— You can be loved, you’re already loved. This fool just doesn’t see how amazing you are! He’ll regret his decision soon.

— You’re just saying this because you’re my dad. — she softly smiled.

— Yes, but it’s still true. And if whenever you want, I can just get baseball bat and… — the girl interrupted him.

— No need, dad. But thank you for listening.

— Besides, you’re young… You have your whole life to find the right person. It took me a while to find your mom, but it was worth the wait. So be patient, and now just… Study and don’t grow up just yet.

The next morning, Ace was asleep when the three kids entered the room, telling him to wake up and screaming “happy father’s day” while the two youngest kids jumped on the bed. Sabo was holding a little box carefully wrapped and a cute bow; Ann held a small poster they made, decorated with hearts and glitter; and Rouge brought breakfast, with some pancakes, coffee and cupcakes she probably bought this morning. Before the man could even understand what was going on, the three kept saying how he was an amazing father.

With everything that has been going on, he even forgot about the father's day, but his kids remembered. It meant so much to him.

The freckled man tried to hide his tears, but this was one of the moments where he remembered when he was growing up, thinking he couldn’t be loved, and now he has a family of his own. An amazing wife and three beautiful kids. He was a very lucky man.

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #portgas d. ace #ace x reader #fire fist ace

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 2

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 can be found here. xxx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 -

Lunch was over and Pricilla organised the boys to go set up the objects for tomorrow night's scavenger hunt around the camp grounds. The boys had drawn the groups their pairs would be in charge of before leaving and JJ and Caroline had gotten Teens 2, whereas Sarah and John B had gotten Teens 1, which meant that, for better or worse, their groups would be partaking in a lot of activities together, seeing as they were both in the same age group.

The girls were given the job to set up the seating area where the bonfire was going to be, so Sarah and Caroline stuck together as they made their way towards the clearance where it was going to be held.

"Can you believe I got paired up with JJ Maybank?" Caroline sighed.

"Beats Routledge by a thousand, I can promise you that," said Sarah, still extremely disappointed, "At least Maybank looks like he takes care of himself."

Caroline chuckled at her comment. John B had also grown his hair out over the years and it was now down to his shoulders.

"He does seem like he is... in touch with nature," Caroline remarked and Sarah laughed genuinely for the first time since drawing the boy’s name out, "Maybe they won't be that bad to work with, besides, it's only nine weeks, what could go wrong?"

Sarah seemed to think for a second before her lips curled into a devious smirk, "Hey, didn't you used to have, like, the biggest crush on Maybank?"

Caroline's cheeks turned red immediately, "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled quickly.

Sarah started laughing, "You totally did! You lucky, lucky bitch! I wish I got paired up with my childhood crush! Instead I get to spend my last summer before moving away with snot-nosed, bug-eating Routledge... Why was the Universe on your side and not on mine?"

They walked behind the rest of the girl counsellors towards the bonfire area. When they arrived, the logs that Pricilla had informed them would be stacked up in a convenient for them to move around way, were all scattered across the ground. The pillows that were meant to go on top of them were also in disarray. All the girls looked around in confusion.

"Surely this couldn't have been the wind?" one of them said.

"Surely this was the boys." said Sarah matter-of-factly, "I'd bet 50 bucks that Routledge had something to do with this."

All the girls turned to look at her in confusion.

"What?" she protested, shrugging her shoulders, "You know I'm right."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "Boys or not, we better sort this mess out before sundown, we have cabins to set up as well."

The girls agreed, Sarah being skeptical but also finally giving in, and little by little, they set up the bonfire area. It took them a little over two hours before they started making their way back to the cabins, which they were supposed to decorate with welcome signs for the arriving campers.

Since Sarah and Caroline were both in charge of the oldest groups, their campers were meant to be sharing two cabins - one for the boys and one for the girls.

"Let's split up, I'll do the boys and you do the girls," Sarah offered, nearly shocking Caroline, "Try being as quick as you can. Meet me back out here in 15 minutes tops." she ordered before scurrying up the steps into the boys’ cabin.

Caroline rushed into the cabin next door, pleasantly surprised by Sarah's sudden determination to get work done. As she was arranging the banners and posters on the walls and ceiling, she couldn't help but think that Sarah must have had some sort of ulterior motive to being this enthusiastic about working. Sure enough, she was right.

She had barely taken a step out of the girls' cabin when Sarah spoke up, "Took you long enough. Now let's go find those stupid guys."

The sun was setting and the woods had gotten a bit chilly as Sarah lead Caroline towards where the male counsellors were supposed to be. After setting up the scavenger hunt objects, they were supposed to set up the archery area. As they were getting closer to the archery grounds, the two girls could hear the laughter of the boys in the nearby distance. Sarah pretended to gag yet again.

"Quick, around here," Caroline pulled Sarah behind the small hut where they kept all of the camp's archery supplies. From their spot they could see the guys quite clearly and could hear everything they were saying, "Remind me again why we're doing this?" Caroline whisper-yelled at Sarah.

"Because I'm still furious about their little prank," Sarah explained, "Which is why I want to prank them back."

"How are we gonna do that exactly?" asked Caroline, "By eavesdropping?"

"A good villain is one that knows the enemy's weaknesses," said Sarah, "First we listen for a bit, and then we make a plan."

Caroline couldn't help but smirk at this new side of Sarah she was seeing. She much preferred this Sarah to the constantly whining, gloating Sarah she had gotten used to over the years. Plus, being somewhat of a daredevil herself, Caroline couldn't help but find the idea of pranking the boys back exciting.

"Can you believe I got paired with Jenna Kinley?" one of the boys, Kelce, said, "Not only are we supposed to work together, but we're also meant to be taking care of babies..." he face palmed himself.

The other boys laughed.

"C'mon, Johnson, 10 year olds are hardly babies," said another one of the boys, Topper, "Besides, working with Kinley will not be nearly as scandalous as working with Hague!"

JJ spoke up next, "Aw, don't be like that, Top," he said, "Madison's not that bad!"

Topper scoffed at JJ, "Easy for you to say! You and Routledge got paired with the best girls out of the bunch! And you got the teens groups!"

Sarah and Caroline smirked at the remark.

"Boys, boys, boys," came John B's voice suddenly, "Let's put this topic behind us, I'm sure you'll all be glad to hear about what I managed to sneak into our cabin." all the boys were now staring at John B in anticipation, "16 bottles of pure, fine whiskey, m'boys. Safe to say, tonight will be a ball."

"Bingo..." Sarah and Caroline smiled mischievously at each other, the perfect prank idea forming in both of their heads.

They quietly made their way back to where all the cabins were and sat at one of the patios.

"So here's the plan," said Sarah, "We sneak into their cabin, raid Routledge's luggage and steal his bottles of whiskey. Let's go now!"

Caroline stopped her, "No, no, not now!" she hissed, "They're gonna go to their cabin before dinner and Routledge's gonna want to show them his stash! We'll sneak out during dinner. Oh, and, I suggest we throw a party of our own to this occasion."

Sarah smirked at Caroline, "I like where you're going with this, Carrie," she said, patting Caroline's shoulder before standing up to go into their cabin, "Not bad for a nerd."

Caroline sighed, there was the old Sarah again.

~~~~~~~~

“Windsor!” Caroline heard a voice behind her call out, “Been paired up for a whole day now and we still haven’t the chance to talk!”

Caroline turned around to find a beaming JJ smiling at her. Had he come over from the boys table specifically for her? She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn slightly.

“We can talk,” she said quickly.

JJ took a seat next to her on the long bench. She could feel the heat in her cheeks become even hotter. JJ didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, or awkwardness.

“How’s life been then?” he asked.

Caroline took a deep breath to soothe her nerves, looking up, only to find a smirking Sarah crossing her arms across from her at the table.

“Just the regular, nothing too special,” she said, frowning quickly at Sarah before turning to face JJ again, hoping he hadn’t noticed Sarah’s behavior.

JJ jokingly frowned, “Nothing too special? I heard you got accepted into Charleston University, that’s like super special.”

Caroline cringed internally, “Did you happen to hear anything else by any chance?”

JJ smirked, “Not sure what you’re talking about,”

Caroline wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not but she pretended to not be bothered.

“Well I hear you’re throwing a party tonight,” Caroline crossed her arms in front of her.

JJ smirked even more, “Where’d you hear that from?”

“Why?” she tempted, “Is my source wrong?”

“Hardly,” JJ bit back, standing up, “So perhaps I’ll see you there.”

With that he walked back to where the other male counsellors were sat, giving one last look at Caroline, smirk never leaving his face.

Sarah started laughing loudly, “Looks like someone’s got their eye on little Carrie,” she teased, “Lucky, lucky bitch.”

Caroline rolled her eyes at her, “Bullshit,”

Sarah leaned over the table to whisper to Caroline, “I like the way you handled the situation, we’re definitely going to be there, on more occasions than one.”

Caroline looked at her watch, “Shit, it’s getting late, we better go now!”

And with that, they snuck their way out of the Wildcat Lodge and towards the boys’ cabin.

“Crap, the door’s locked!” Sarah cursed.

Caroline looked around. One of the upper windows seemed to be open. This gave her an idea.

“Sarah, do you still do cheerleading?” she looked at the girl, a plan forming in her brain.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’s that got to do with anything? And duh, how else would my legs look this good?”

Caroline’s lips turned into a grin, “Give me a lift.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

Caroline nodded her head towards the upper window and Sarah whined, “Why’s it always me?”

Silently, they rushed into position. Sarah took her stance, her hands ready to lift up Caroline’s body. Caroline balanced herself on Sarah’s shoulders as Sarah readied her hands to push her up. In one swift motion, Caroline had pulled herself in through the upper window and was now inside the cabin. She immediately went to the door to unlock the handle from the inside so that Sarah could let herself in.

The two girls looked around the space. It was dark and the only light penetrating into it was the one from the lamps outside. Three pairs of bunk beds were sitting there, covered in unpacked suitcases, boxes and bags.

“Great,” sighed Caroline in annoyance, “How are we ever going to figure out which one’s Routledge’s?”

Sarah took a better look at all of the bunk beds again, her eyes landing on one with a particularly large suitcase with a Green Peace sign on it, “My guess is that it’s that one.”

They went over to the suitcase and Sarah nervously leaned over it, “Eurgh, bug eating Routledge better not have live animals in there,” she said as she quickly ripped open the zipper, flinching away as soon as it came undone.

“That’s it!” Caroline excitedly said, “Help me pick it up!”

The suitcase contained three changes of clothes and a large box filled with unopened bottles of whiskey, just like they had heard John B brag about by the archery area. The two girls combined all of their strength to lift the heavy box off the bed and made their way towards the door, when they heard a loud thumping sound from the back of the cabin. Something heavy had fallen in the corner of the cabin that was unlit by the outdoor lamps, making both girls slightly jump and nearly tip over the box full of alcohol. They squinted their eyes in the direction where the sound came from, however they couldn’t make out anything in the thick darkness.

“What was that?” Sarah said nervously.

“Whatever it was,” Caroline said, leading them out of the door, “We can’t wait around to find out.”

With that they were out of the cabin, closing the door behind them and making their way back to their own cabin quickly.

They hid the box inside the storage room and decided to sneak back into the Wildcat Lodge, so that nobody would question their whereabouts.

There was half an hour left until the end of dinner service as Sarah and Caroline sat back at their designated table, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as they could.

“Do you think someone saw us in there?” whispered Sarah so that only Caroline could hear.

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, “I really hope not, but I did get the weird feeling that we were being watched once we heard that noise,”

Sarah shuddered, “Yeah, major heebie jeebies in there. Glad the boys got that cabin and not us.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “Relax, Sarah, worst case scenario is it was just one of the guys and he saw us stealing tonight’s party supplies.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “I swear to God if it was Routledge -”

“If it was Routledge, he wouldn’t have let us get away with it,”

“Shit, Carrie, you’re totally right!” Sarah unwillingly raised her voice, “Who do you think it was?”

Caroline shrugged again, “Honestly? I don’t think it was anyone, I just think something happened to fall down on its own.”

“Hmm… You’re probably right again.” Sarah turned to look at the big clock on the wall, “We’d better get going, we’ve got to get ready for that party you got invited to!” she winked at Caroline, smirking.

Caroline looked towards the boys table where JJ was already looking back at her, a smile dancing on his thin lips. She met his eyes and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. She decided to give him a little wave to which he happily waved back.

“Hello?” Sarah’s annoyed voice broke Caroline’s focus from JJ, “Are you coming or what? I want us to look good for when we see the guys’ disappointed faces tonight!”

Caroline sighed and followed Sarah out of the Lodge. Tonight was going to be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I know I only just uploaded the first part, but I want to establish the Camp Willowdale universe as fast as possible so that the actual story can take off and it does in the next part. I'm going to create a taglist for people who have shown interest in the story thus far, so if you want to be included, make sure to leave a reply so that I can include you in the next part.

Also if you haven't noticed so far, this story, aside from fun and romantic, will be quite campy so I hope you're into that. We've also got quite the mystery coming up so stay tuned for that as well x

Alsoooo please give me some inspiration on who I can base Caroline off, I'm kind of leaving her up to the reader's imagination so that you can just imagine yourself as her, but ideally I'd like to have someone who's picture I can use for future photos. I've got my mind set on Maia Mitchel, but feel free to drop recommendations too.

Anyways, let me know what you think this far and feel free to check out the rest of my works in my masterlist. xxx

Part 3 here

#obx #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback #jj maybank masterlist #obx 2 #john b routledge #the pogues #sarah cameron #rudy pankow #outer banks fic #outer banks x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #barry obx #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj one shot #jj x oc #jj imagine #jj fanfiction #jj obx #jj maybank

[remedialpotions]

Off The Train

Thanks to @mertronus for tagging me in the HPRomione Discord Popcorn game thingy! The prompt she gave me was: "I can finally see you."

I'm tagging @acnelli with the prompt: "You can't just keep pretending things are fine!"

***

”I can’t wait until you get off that train,” says Ron, his voice low and lazy with fatigue, “and I can finally see you.”

Hermione shifts in her bed so she’s lying on her side, mirror held out before her. This way, she can pretend - if she squints a bit, and ignores the crimson hangings of her four-poster bed - that he’s lying next to her, and not hundreds of miles away in London.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Hermione, too, keeps her voice quiet. It won’t do, in her final days as Head Girl, to be waking her dormmates. “You’re looking at me right now.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can see you, but I can’t touch you, or...” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Or do anything else for that matter.”

“Right. Well,” she says, trying to infuse positivity into her voice, despite the weeks since the Easter holidays dragging into what felt like months and years, despite missing him so much that it’s like a heavy fog surrounding her. “It’s only a couple more days, right?”

“Can’t it be now?” Ron looks like he’s reclined in bed too now, his fiery hair stark against the deep navy of his sheets. “Just get to Hogsmeade, then you can Apparate-“

“You know full well that I cannot,” she replies briskly, even though it’s tempting, really tempting. “It’s-“

“-behavior unbecoming of a Head Girl,” Ron finishes her sentence. “I know. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too.”

“I love you,” he adds after a moment’s silence, before his eyes widen with inspiration. “Oh, I’ve got it. What if I Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to the castle - I bet Hagrid would let me through the gates-“

“It’s only two days, Ron.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“And I love you too.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

•••

Pigwidgeon is the last owl to fly into the Great Hall, his little wings beating wildly to keep him aloft. With a scrap of parchment clutched in his tiny talons, he struggles over to the Gryffindor table before somersaulting down into Hermione’s lap.

Hermione’s heart sinks, and not just at the sight of the exhausted little bird currently burrowing into the crook of her elbow. Their two-way mirrors mean they don’t usually have to resort to writing letters. Not unless...

Hermione, the parchment reads when she unfolds it. Got called on an emergency mission. I’m not allowed to tell you where or why or even how long but I’m hoping it won’t take too long. I’m still going to be there at King’s Cross, because I’m dying to see you and I can’t wait until all this is over and we can just be together. Anyway, I love you and try not to worry too much. I promise to do my best not to die.

Ron

“Oh, good,” comes Ginny’s voice from beside her, and Hermione turns to see her peering intently at the parchment. “He’s promised not to die, that’s a relief-“

“He’ll be there,” interrupts Hermione, tucking the note in the pocket of her robes before Ginny can further infringe upon her privacy. “If he thinks it’ll only take a day, then I believe him.”

Ginny blinks. “I never said he wouldn’t be.” Plucking Pigwidgeon from Hermione’s lap, she offers him water from her goblet. “I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

“It’s probably just a quick day trip,” Hermione rationalizes, eyes focused hard on Pigwidgeon as he drinks so she doesn’t have to see the sympathy she knows is etched on Ginny’s face, “and he just wanted me to know in case - well-”

“In case he dies?”

Ginny’s attempt at a joke falls flat.

“Well, just in case, you know, something were to - to happen,” Hermione stammers, “and anyway, it’s just good for me to know - I like to know what he’s up to - not in a controlling way or anything, just-”

“Of course,” Ginny interjects bracingly. “I’m sure he just wanted you to know, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be there.”

Hermione picks up her mug of tea and holds it close to her face so the steam washes over her. She knows what they’re both thinking but are unwilling to say: that in the year Ron and Harry have been Aurors, neither has had a mission run shorter than a week.

•••

And so Hermione sits with Ginny and Luna on the train, watching the Scottish Highlands slowly transform into the low, tidy hills of the English countryside outside her window and hoping against hope that Ron will be there on Platform 9 and ¾. But she hasn’t heard from him since that first letter, and his mirror has gone dark. This doesn’t worry her - not for his safety, anyway - but it does make it difficult to share in Ginny’s gleeful anticipation as the train pulls into King’s Cross.

She busies herself with tending to Crookshanks, who is furious about his prolonged confinement in his basket, as Harry and Ginny embrace on the platform. It’s not that she’s upset, not really. Ron is doing what he needs to do, and she would never want him shirking his responsibilities just so he can kiss her on a train platform for the first time since April. She just wishes things could be different.

After Harry and Ginny depart for Grimmauld Place, she flags down a taxi and rides alone to her parents’ home. The family car is parked in front, which is unusual for a weekday, but when she goes inside, she finds her parents have been eagerly awaiting her arrival and can hardly let her set down her trunk before whisking her away to an upscale restaurant in South Kensington.

“So, tell us about school,” says Mum with an eager smile once they’re seated at their candlelit table. “How were your exams? I want to hear everything.”

“I will later,” Hermione replies, raising her brows and tipping her head pointedly in the direction of the waiter currently pouring red wine into their glasses.

“Oh, right, right, of course. Well, anyway, dear,” she begins as the waiter sets down menus and strides away, “your father and I have a little surprise for you.”

It’s foolish, she knows, but her mind leaps instantly to Ron. Maybe all of this business with his mission has been a ruse, and he’s here in London after all, and she’ll be able to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Grimmauld Place…

Until she notices that her parents are still talking, and there’s no tall, lanky, red-haired wizard to be seen in this high-end French restaurant, but there are three Eurostar boarding passes laid out across the tablecloth.

“Sorry,” says Hermione, shaking her head to clear away the daydream, “what’s going on?”

“We’re going to Paris!” announces Mum with delight. “We thought it would be so lovely to spend time together since you’ve been away for so long, and you’re about to start your new job - and I know you’ve always wanted to go there. We’ve got ten whole days, and everything’s booked, so all you’ve got to do is pack.”

“That - that’s - that’s brilliant,” Hermione musters, forcing her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her parents beam so brightly back that it’s almost difficult to look at them. “Erm, so when are we leaving?”

She crosses her fingers under the table, praying they’ll say August, or her birthday in September, or Christmas, anything but-

“This weekend!”

Of course.

•••

Paris is beautiful. It exceeds every single one of Hermione’s expectations. She and her parents consume copious amounts of bread, cheese and wine, they visit museums and cafes and old bookstores, they ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower and take in the view. She thinks of Ron constantly as she walks the cobbled streets, as she crosses the Pont des Artes and sees the countless locks affixed to its railing. Before she left, she sent Harry an owl to tell him that she was leaving, so Ron would know where she was if he returned home before she did. As they can’t communicate when she’s staying in a Muggle hotel, she truly has no idea where he is, but she tells herself that he’s still on his mission. It feels better that way, imagining that even if she stayed in London, there would still be obstacles keeping them apart.

On their last day, she nearly empties out a patisserie buying eclairs and macarons for Ron, and then they board the Eurostar back to England. Nervous anticipation grips her stomach as the train barrels through the tunnel (idly, she wonders if Ron’s dad is aware of this train that travels underwater, and makes a mental note to tell him), because she has no idea what awaits her back in London. What if Ron’s still away? Or worse - what if something’s happened to him, and she’s been off enjoying a holiday while he’s been suffering?

The train can’t move quickly enough. Hermione can focus on nothing - not the paperback romance novel her mother has loaned her to read, not the Muggle newspaper that her father is engrossed in, not even the argument of the couple seated across the aisle from them. It’s only a two-hour trip, so why does it feel like it’s taking days?

She checks her mirror, but it’s still dark.

“You go ahead, sweetheart,” says Dad when the train finally rolls to a stop in St. Pancras station. “We’ll get the cases.”

Hermione looks up at the luggage rack over their heads, then at her parents. “Are you sure? I’ll bring mine-”

“We can manage. Go on ahead, get some fresh air.”

She doesn’t bother reminding them that train station air is hardly fresh, and instead heads down the aisle with just her purse and the box of pastries in tow. Truly, she’s not sure why her parents have sent her off the train without them; with the station as busy as it is, they’ll surely lose track of each other.

But then she sees him. Standing a head above the crowd, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes scan the throngs of travelers. At first, she doesn’t believe her eyes. Surely, she’s just become so desperate to see him that she’s actually begun hallucinating.

But as she draws closer, he doesn’t ripple into nothingness, he doesn’t fade away. He’s really, truly there, his red hair curling behind his ears, one knee jiggling with pent-up energy the way it always does when he’s particularly impatient. As he turns his head, still surveying the crowd, their eyes lock and the rest of the station recedes into the background. Finally, they’re within sight of each other after months of hushed mirror conversations and stolen moments borrowing Professor McGonagall’s Floo. Hermione picks up speed, nearly skipping across the concrete in her haste, and flings herself into his waiting arms.

She fits against him perfectly. The fabric of his faded t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she breathes him in, and for the first time in recent memory, words fail her completely.

The box of pastries thuds to the ground.

“Hi,” he mutters, lips brushing her skin and sending chills up her spine.

“How - how did you-”

“Harry told me where you’d gone.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then, at long last, their lips connect. “It’s not that hard to look up train schedules.”

As reluctant as she is to pull away from him, she leans back just enough to look up at him. Behind the freckles scattered across his face, his cheeks have gone pink. “You’re amazing,” she tells him, rising on tiptoe for another kiss, unconcerned with the passersby and the blast of nearby train whistles.

Ron lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug when they break apart. “Had to meet you on a train platform somehow.”

#hpromione discord #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione fanfic #ahhh I missed writing about these two dorks #also message me if you want to join the discord!

[applsauss]

Östliche Helden | I

Description: Your grin is unabashed when you hear him shouting after you.

Fandom: Hetalia


Pairing: Human!Prussia (Gilbert Beilschmidt)/Reader

Word Count: 4k+

Warning(s): None.

Unsere Freundschaft mit der Sowjet-Union erzwingt den Frieden.

The words are printed on a sun-bleached poster featuring two working class men, one holding the red and gold banner of the Soviet Union, the other with a German flag with three stripes: one black, one red, one yellow. 

“Our friendship with the Soviet Union enforces peace,” you whisper to yourself. Staring at the smiling men, trying to read into their expressions, you pick at the peeling corners of the poster, then try to smooth them down. 

Behind you, through the window, the sky is aglow with a strong orange and dusty red that fades into pink. You’ve wasted the afternoon in an abandoned factory, with the small, portable radio Gilbert spent a fortune on tuned to a western station. The announcer is saying something about a concert, but you don’t hear him. The sun is setting. The wind drags its fingers through the trees.

Gilbert is sitting in the window, with one leg bent at the knee and propped up on the window sill, the other dangling against the outside of the building. He’s reading a book your brother gave to you about Frederick II, the greatest king of Prussia. You could never sit through it, but Gilbert hasn’t been able to put it down for the last two weeks. 

You hum lightly to yourself as a different, tinny voice advertises some household cleaning product, and continue to observe your boyfriend. His brow is furrowed in focus, eyes scanning each page with intent, and his platinum hair is painted red by the blazing sun buzzing behind him. You can’t help but stare at him, and then past him. 

The view from the window is framed by Gilbert’s body, and then by large, dark trees that inhale and exhale with the breeze. Behind the trees is a demolished industrial block, rubble left where it fell at the foot of the wall--then past that is the Berlin Wall, itself: nearly four meters tall, two thick, and with various layers of increasingly horrible deterrents running the length of the death strip. It is a grisly sight. 

Behind that though, lies true innovation and freedom. Sunlight bounces off the windows of pristine West Berlin as if to say Look! Look at what is here. Look at Germans like you--but not--as they live with American autos, French wine, and Italian designer bags.

The radio announcer’s voice cuts off, and then the guitar chords of the next song fade in, plucking at all of your drifting thoughts and drawing them back tight again. It is a song of freedom, the western stations like playing it because they know it can be heard even behind the Iron Curtain. You close your eyes and let the music take you away, swaying in rhythm. 

“I, I will be king,

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing will drive them away,

We can beat them, just for one day,

We can be heroes, just for one day.”

You never listen to western radio in your house. It is silent except for when your father listens to a concert performance, or when your brother used to practice piano in the sitting room. Besides, your mother is frighteningly aware of the ears in the walls, and your father makes a point of socialising with people he suspects of being connected to the Stasi--probably in hopes of being recruited. It’s why you’ve been left alone, even after your Onkel took bolt cutters to the chain-link border fence at the Austrian-Hungarian border.

You hear your shoes scrape on the floor as you step side to side, getting more into the song, nodding your head and then you hear Gilbert snicker under his breath. You peak your eyes open to find him watching you. His book is closed, resting on the window sill, and he’s now sitting with his legs inside the building. You stop dancing, laugh, but the music continues on without you, the sound like an afterthought calling to you.

Gilbert leans forward, watching you with steady eyes, then pushes off the window sill to stand. He tilts his head for a moment, like he’s appraising the music, then begins to snap his fingers on beat, tapping his foot and bobbing his head.

You join him, shimmying, waggling your eyebrows and he snorts, then gets more into the song, shaking his hips and dramatically reaching up towards the ceiling, then closing his fist and dragging it down in front of him like the disco stars on TV.

Trying to upstage him, you click your heels together and start to do the twist, but the song’s chords are drawn out, and so the shuffling you’re doing is more for comedic effect than anything else.

You pause when you’re closest to the ground, then jerk your head up to catch Gilbert’s eyes in challenge. He lets out a breathy laugh, then changes tactics. Not one to be outdone, he throws his arms above his head and begins thrusting his hips in time with the drums, while training his expression to remain serious, smoldering, almost. You laugh.

“And you, you can be mean,

And I, I'll drink all the time,”

“ 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact,” he mouths the words dramatically, then winks and blows you a kiss, making you snicker again. “Yes, we're lovers, and that is that.”

Still thrusting his hips, he begins to make little hops towards you, dust from the floor kicking up around his feet. Grinning, you rise back up to both feet and meet him halfway, swinging your arms and stepping in time with the beat. 

When you finally meet each other, he reaches forward, smooshing your face between his hands, then ducks down to plant a silly, solid kiss to your lips. Your teeth clack, your nose presses hard into his cheek, and he laughs into your mouth, then quiets when you kiss him back. 

The music becomes less of something you hear, and more of something you feel thrumming in your heart, thrumming in Gilbert’s as it beats beneath your palm, and thrumming in the way you both sway side to side, caught up in the moment.

“Though nothing will keep us together,

We can steal time, just for one day.”

Gilbert sucks in a breath through his nose, kissing you earnestly, sincerely now, then pulls back slowly. His hands are cupping your face, thumb gently rubbing your cheek, and you’re humbled by the expression on his face, still painted in increasingly soft shades of red-pink. Affection blooms in your chest, warm like a candle, and spreads until you forget about the bite of the approaching evening. Almost overwhelmed, you pull his arms around you and lay your forehead on his shoulder, watching the West as the sun dips farther towards the horizon, as the sky begins to bleed the same red, the same damn Sowjetisch Rot, that paints their bloody flag.

You can hear him smiling in the way he breathes, feel it in the way he settles the weight of his arm over your shoulders and presses his face into your hair. You forget about school, you forget about the stress of your parents’ disapproval of Gilbert, of you, you forget about the future and you forget about the gottverdammte West. “Lieb’ dich, Liebchen,” he whispers into your hair.

The intimacy scares you. You think about pinching the soft fat on his stomach and twisting like you would a bottlecap to relieve some of the carbonated tension that’s filled the space, the tender moment buzzing around the two of you, surrounding you with its quiet intensity. The sudden thought makes you laugh, and you settle farther into his embrace instead, letting yourself sink into this feeling despite the fear for once. “Lieb’ dich, doch. You’re my favourite, you know.” 

You somehow both see it coming and are taken by complete surprise when he pinches the meat of your arm and twists enough for it to smart.

“Ow-a!” You shove him off you and he stumbles back over a piece of broken furniture, snickering. You huff, dust your pants off, and try to glare at him, but you can’t bring yourself to be all that annoyed. Afterall, you chose this place and you chose him.

And the sun continues to set.

***

The morning is grey outside the apartment. It’s still early enough for the streetlamps to be on, and from under your bedroom door, you can tell the hallway light is on as well. You hear the muted clamor of breakfast coming from the kitchen, and your father coughs.

You smooth your hair back in the vanity one more time, double-checking your appearance, then grab your backpack and head out into the hall.

“You came home late last night,” your father comments from the dinner table as soon as you enter the sitting room. In front of him sits an empty plate, a mug of coffee and a half-empty glass of orange juice. 

You set your bag on the table and head into the kitchen. “I know.” 

“You shouldn’t ride your bike at night,” he calls after you.

“I know.” 

Your mother is by the stove, wearing her sunflower print apron and black slippers. The room smells like breakfast sausage. She has her back turned to you and when you approach, she spins on her heel and pushes a full plate into your empty hands before you can do anything else.

“Ah--Guten Morgen, Muti. Vielen--” you’re caught half-way through a yawn--“Dank.” 

“Good Morning, Liebling. Eat up.” 

You smile and return to the table. Your father is waiting, but says nothing. He continues to say nothing as the clouds are pushed across the sky and the food on your plate disappears one bite at a time.

Eventually, he grows tired of the silence. He takes a long sip of his coffee, then says, “You were out with that boy, weren’t you.” It is not a question.

“You know his name,” you say mildly as you push your chair back and stand to take your plate into the kitchen. Your mother appears at your elbow and collects it for you instead. Without another excuse, you pull your bag across the table to check if you have everything you’ll need for school.

Still sitting where he is, your father asks, “When are you going to break up with him?” 

“I’m not.” 

He gives you a hard look. You pull your arms through the straps of your bag. “Is there really no one else for you?”

“I’m going to class now.” 

He sighs, seemingly giving up on the conversation. “You have work after, right?”

“Right.” 

Another sigh. “Alright. Be safe. See you soon.” 

He drains the last of his coffee. Your mother kisses you on the cheek and tells you to have a good day as well. 

“You, too. Lieb’ dich.” You turn to your father, “Bye, Vati. See you soon.”

***

Childhoods are not made equal, and the law of even-stevens is not something adults seem overly interested in. You first learned this in year three, when you were dropped off by your mother to play with a friend who lived in an apartment the size of your living room. Her bed was folded up neatly under the coffee table and the bathroom was two floors below hers. When you explained all this to your parents, they never allowed you back.

The second time you learned that adults were not as worried about being fair as they pretended to be was at Gilbert’s house, when the two of you could only play cards on his bed because his newborn brother was sleeping and anything else would have woken him. His mother made you sandwiches and when you asked about her lunch, she said she wasn’t hungry, then ate the discarded crust off your bread. 

The third was when Gilbert was visiting your house, and switched on your family’s brand-new color television set. He casually flipped through the channels until he found one you’d never seen before, and you watched with confusion as image after image of the glamorous, rich, free West Germany flashed on the screen--something you’d never seen before, something he thought of as common knowledge, and something that made you begin to question what else was hidden from you. Your father catching the two of you soaking in the perverse capitalist propaganda movie ‘Grease’ was the beginning of his long-lasting feud with Your-Best-Friend-Gilbert. 

The list goes on and on, your eyes not so much being opened to a single dawning realisation--but rather that realisation was inevitable, a full picture fed to you piece by piece each time you bore witness to some other lie fed to East Germans, who chew and chew and swallow because they’re so starved of everything else. 

This is what you’re thinking about as Kristian goes on explaining Nietzsche to you. It’s terribly pretentious, he’s terribly pretentious, and so, regretfully, terribly, are you. 

“I thought it was interesting. Didn’t you as well? What Herr Ullman was saying about the difference between Nietzsche’s master and slave morality--obviously we are the strong masters. We must not be pitied.” 

Kristian is a person who never for a second thinks for, or critically, of himself. He is in your Philosophy lecture, your father knows his, and he has never once wanted for anything. The urge to fidget overcomes you, and so you grip the underside of the shop-counter, and rock back and forth on your heels to stop the annoyance from crawling up your arms. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I asked what you thought of how Nietzsche’s ideas could be applied to our politics now.” 

“Oh, well--” you pause for a moment to think about how much of yourself you’re willing to put into this conversation-- “It’s interesting how some people claim to be masters--”

“Of course!” he interrupts. “You’re brilliant--because in reality, they are not. Take here, in the DDR, for example. The majority of the working class think of themselves as masters, while holding slave moralities,” he finishes for you, incorrectly. You bite your tongue.

Sometimes, Kristian is enjoyable to be around because it’s like a game, to have a conversation with someone who refuses to hear anything you say. You like to test the limits of his perception of you and see just how far he’ll go to rationalise whatever you say so that in his head, you agree with him.

Recently though, it’s become clear that he has an interest in you that is just a little more than friendly, and casually letting him down is becoming a problem because he refuses to take a hint. Now, at Uni, every time you turn a corner, he’s there to follow you to your next class, and his forwardness is beginning to unroot whatever amusement you used to feel around him.

Kristian is another item to add to the growing list of reasons you’d rather be wasting your day watching the clouds go by than be at Uni--or be trapped behind the counter of the Apotheke you work at, begging the powers that be that Kristian leaves before your shift is up, otherwise he might get it in his head that you have free time to spend with him.

Time moves in slow motion as Kristian stands in front of the register and continues to talk. No one has come in after him so you don’t have any excuses to leave the conversation. You feel awkward, like being alone with him is a mistake that you can’t escape from because the owner of the Apotheke is out taking his lunch in the park across the street. 

“We think so alike, you and I…” Kristian trails off, and then he fiddles with the soda he bought ten minutes ago, and looks away, embarrassed. “Hey,” he begins again, and at the tone of his voice, your stomach drops. Before he was just dropping hints or loosely suggesting the idea of going on a date, but this is a confrontation that you’re not prepared to deal with. “I was wondering if sometime you’d like to--”

The bell above the door trills, and you jump into action. “Ah--Willkommen! How can I help you today?” you speak loud enough to smother the end of Kristian’s question.

“Liebe,” you hear the customer say, and immediately you know that it is Gilbert. What timing! He’d taken the morning off to go see Ludy’s school play and mentioned that he might be able to swing by after running a few errands for his mother. “You’ll never guess what happened! Oh! Kristian--” he pauses-- “Hallo. Anyways, I was riding my bike down Schulstrasse after the play and I--” 

“We were talking,” Kristian interrupts, whatever boyish shyness he’d had evaporating as he crosses his arms and turns to face Gilbert, almost puffing out his chest like a bird.

Gilbert gives him a funny look, then asks, “yea?” He looks to you for confirmation.

You shoot Gilbert a wobbly, unconfident smile and gesture to Kristian with wide eyes. He furrows his brow in confusion, then looks around and realizes you’re alone in the shop. He then turns his full attention to Kristian and, with fake pleasantness, asks, “how are your classes, Kristian?” 

Kristian rocks back on his heels and unfolds his arm at the sudden question. “Good, I guess…” He shoots a look back at you, and you pretend to be seriously inspecting the cash register for defects. You pop open the drawer and feign counting the Deutsche Marks.

“Good!” Gilbert presses forward. “I hear Herr Ullman is a hardhead.” 

“A bit,” Kristian replies, then turns his back to Gilbert and tries one last time to get your attention. “Y/N--” 

At the sound of your name leaving Kristian’s mouth, Gilbert slides an arm on the counter between you and Kristian, who bites off the rest of his response and drops all pretenses to glare at Gilbert. 

“Interesting,” Gilbert says flatly, “Sowieso, Schatz, when does Herr Friedman get back from his lunch?”

Kristian doesn’t wait for your response. He just huffs, snatches his drink off the counter, and stalks out of the Apotheke. The bell trills as he pulls the door open, then lets it slam shut in its frame.

“Tschussi!” Gilbert calls after him, and you really should reprimand him for that last, unnecessary taunt, but the amount of relief you feel now that Kristian is gone is ridiculous, and so you reach over the counter to grip his forearm with both hands, grinning up at him.

“Don’t be so mean,” you say half-heartedly. 

Gilbert cocks his head to the side. “Then he should take a hint and listen when you tell him no.” 

His genuine response surprises you when it shouldn’t. Afterall, you know what sort of man he is; you’ve known for years. It’s what kindled your crush on him in secondary school, the year before he went off for his apprenticeship in that garage he still dreams of, it’s what fanned the flames when he returned for his year of mandatory service, and it’s what stokes the love even now. “Thank you.” 

“Why?” He grins. “Did you think it was awesomely sexy when I made him back off--”

You choke on a laugh, cheeks warm. “Oh, shut it! You ruin everything!”

He laughs like a witch’s cackle, and you pretend to be put out, then ask,“what were you trying to tell me about before?” 

“Oh!” He straightens. “Remember that pigeon from school?”

***

“Gib can talk to birds, you know,” Ludwig says factually. ‘Gib’ is his childhood nickname for Gilbert. You nearly trip at the sudden change in topic.

“See!” Gilbert throws a hand out to gesture at Ludwig, vindicated. His other hand holds his bike steady as the three of you continue to walk down the sidewalk.

You groan. “I swear to god, the pigeon does not know you!”

“Yes he does! I’ve named him--” 

“Don’t remind me--” 

“His name is Gilbird.” Gilbert proudly sticks his nose up, and you resign yourself to pushing your bike in silence. You’ve had this same dispute since school. Gilbert is convinced that since he saved a pigeon from a hungry alleycat one time, it now owes him some sort of life debt, or at least he thinks the pigeon thinks that.

“I think it’s clever,” Ludwig says quietly, squeezing the straps of his backpack tighter in his hands as he continues to walk beside you and Gilbert, who are pushing your bikes to keep pace with him.

“Ludy,” you stage whisper just loud enough so Gilbert can still hear you, like you’re sharing some grave secret, “he’s been saying the same thing since year five. I don’t even think it’s the same bird!”

“Schatz!” Gilbert cries, outraged.

You roll your eyes dramatically. “C’mon,” you say, and goad Ludwig into jogging ahead of Gilbert with you. As much as Ludwig hero-worships his elder brother, he also can’t resist the temptation of teasing him, especially when you offer him the upper hand. 

“Ah!” Gilbert exclaims once he realizes your plan. “Hey!” When you pass him, you stick your foot out to unhinge his kickstand, making him stumble over his bike.

 “I’m too awesome to not be telling the truth!” he calls after you. “You were there! Hey!”

Ludwig laughs out loud, and so you turn around as well, only to see Gilbert struggling to untangle his handlebars from a bush. “Quickly!” 

You swing your leg over the seat of your bike, then usher Ludwig into the basket fixed over the rear wheel. It’s not meant for a person and is an uncomfortable fit, even for little Ludy, but the two of you manage. 

“That’s cheating!” Gilbert calls out sorely, still a little ways behind the two of you, though you know he’ll catch up in no time. Ludwig giggles right in your ear, and then you push off the concrete and begin pedaling down the sidewalk. 

“Look at him, all the way back there,” Ludwig teases. 

You can’t turn around to bask in your victory, you’re afraid to lose balance and throw Ludwig off the bike. “Is he still stuck?” 

“Yes--No! He’s just freed himself! Schneller! Faster!” Ludwig leans more of his weight forward, onto your back, and you laugh breathlessly, then pedal harder. You take the curb hard, pushing yourself off the seat to absorb the shock of your front wheel dropping onto the asphalt, then the rear wheel squeaks in protest under Ludwig’s added weight.

From around the wide bend of the road, you see the young trees that are planted in front of Gilbert and Ludwig’s Plattenbau, the tall apartment building looming over the road like a victory line. Your thighs begin to burn under the exercise. You pant, and Ludwig squeezes your shoulders tighter. “Oh no!” he cries. 

Then it’s over. “Ha ha!” Gilbert tuts victoriously as he flies past the two of you, legs stuck out in a silly pose as his gears rapidly click. 

“Aw! That’s no fair, Gib! Y/N has me on the bike, too!” Ludwig defends you from over your shoulder. 

“You should have thought about that before you two unawesomely conspired to push me into that bush!” 

“We didn’t push you! You tripped!” You slow to a stop in front of the side entrance next to Gilbert, and wobble under yours and Ludwig’s combined weight. Gilbert drops his bike in the grass and moves to help Ludwig down from his perch on the basket.

Gilbert rolls his eyes. “Same thing.” He sets Ludwig on the ground, then adds with fake scorn, “cheaters.”

Ludwig laughs, and you inspect your backpack, which Ludwig had been crouched on for the duration of the short ride. “Do you go to work now, Gib?” he asks.

“Ja. But I’ll be back like normal.” You look up in time to see Gilbert messing with Ludwig’s hair. You feel a pang of jealousy, thinking of your own brothers.

“Okay.” Ludwig walks to the entrance, then pulls open the door. “See you later!”

“Bye!” 

“Bye, Luddy!” 

For a moment, the two of you just breathe the filthy air. This part of town always stinks like a car’s exhaust pipe. Then Gilbert looks back at you. “Race you to your house?” 

You eye him critically for a moment, then turn your bike around and begin pedaling as fast as you can without so much as waiting for a fair start.

Your grin is unabashed when you hear him shouting after you.

***

Translations:

Unsere Freundschaft mit der Sowjet-Union erzwingt den Frieden. Our friendship with the Soviet Union enforces peace. From this 1979 propaganda poster.

Deutsche Demokratische Republik. DDR. German Democratic Republic. Abbreviated ‘GDR’ in english. The official name of ‘East Germany’.

Onkel. Uncle.

Sowjetisch Rot. Soviet Red, referring to the Soviet Union’s flag colour.

Gottverdammte. Goddamn (f).

Lieb’ dich. Love you (slang, not proper grammar).

Liebchen. Sweetheart, lovely (noun). Term of endearment. (Literally: little love, love I am fond of, the -chen is diminutive and cute).

Doch. Too, totally, all the same, nevertheless. This is a ridiculous german word.

O-Saft. Orange Juice (slang).

Guten Morgen. Good morning

Muti. Mom.

Vielen Dank. Thank you very much. 

Liebling. See Liebchen, though this is a more common version.

Vati. Dad.

Apotheke. Drug store, pharmacy.

Willkommen. Welcome.

Liebe. Love.

Hallo. Hello, Hi.

Deutsche Marks. Mark der DDR. Currency of the GDR.

Sowieso. Anyways.

Schatz. Babe, baby. Term of endearment. (Literally: Treasure)

Tschussi. Bye-bye, toodles. Cute with children, though usually used sarcastically by adults, especially men. (Gilbert is making fun of Kristian here)

Schneller! Faster!

Plattenbau. A cheap style of building made from prefabricated concrete slabs common in the GDR. (Literally: Panel building)

Masterlist | Posting Schedule 

#hetalia #aph #aph prussia #hetalia x reader #aph prussia x reader #aph prussia imagine #hetalia imagine #aph imagine #aph x reader

[unchartedthelostlegacy]

Chlodineweek Day 3: Reunion

It was good that Windows XP somehow didn’t notice that she had already failed at entering the correct password five times. 

Chloe gritted her teeth and glared back down at the keys, and began to peck at them one at a time like they were the platforms she’d jumped across in the axe fortress.

Tommyiscute2003.

Wrong.

TommyIhateyou03.

Wrong.

“How important is this?” Nadine called from Chloe’s childhood bed. She was flipping through an ancient Shonen Jump.

“Oh, don’t even start.”

“Why can’t you access it on your phone?”

Chloe touched her lips. “I think I wrote it...in my diary.”

“Frazer, let’s look at the Neopets on your phone and be done with it. You know they’re all dead anyway.”

Her casual tone made Chloe bristle all over again. She didn’t even remember what had started the argument. It had to have been something about Nathan Drake. Their entire trip back home to Chloe’s mum’s house in Australia’s capital had been peppered with back-and-forth character assassination focused on which of them had neglected and starved her Neopets more.

“You’re going to be dead before my Neopets are,” Chloe retorted, pushing back her hair, and noticing Nadine had slid off the twin bed and was rooting around in the drawers. “Excuse me, I didn’t give you permission to--”

“Find this?” Nadine tossed a book at her.

Chloe recognized it the moment it hit her hands. A pink-and-blue diary with a cute lock on the cover.

“I’m assuming you still have the key, Frazer?”

“Oh give me all of three seconds,” Chloe said with a chuckle, sitting and pulling the lockpick from her hair. “These are never--” click. “Here we go. Ah, it’ll be on the last page...I think.”

Nadine had rested her arm across the chair and around Chloe’s shoulders. “What’s that drawing?”

“That is me.”

Nadine’s laughter was scoffing. “And--and the hair?”

“That’s what I looked like,” Chloe paged away from the emo self portrait. “Makeup and all.”

“Oh, that hasn’t changed.”

“Very funny.”

Nadine leaned forward. “Who’s this Tommy you mention on every page?”

“You can actually read that? I’m impressed. I definitely have better handwriting now--”

“Chloe?’

Somehow, they hadn’t noticed footsteps on the stairs and down the hallway, but the click of the door made them both jump.

Chloe’s mother walked in, holding some mail, and blinked. Why would they have a guilty conscience now? Why did it feel like they’d been interrupted in something important and bad?

They were only two grown adults trying to break into an ancient computer because Neopets wasn’t mobile-optimized, after all. Chloe wanted to hiss to Nadine that her job was the lookout, but Nadine looked more terrified than Chloe had ever seen her; she had just about hopped back from the chair.

“Something came for you,” Leah Frazer said.

“I...see that,” Chloe said, hand going to her hair. “You can leave it, mummy.”

“Think it’s from your school.”

“From...which school?”

Leah shrugged her shoulders. “The uni you never went to? It’s from Tim M. Pierce High.”

And she wonders why I never visit. Chloe stood, pushing her hand through her loose, damp hair one last time, reaching out for the envelope with the familiar emblem in the corner.

She’d worn it on her silly skirt-and-polo uniform all those years ago, fighting its conformity with home-dyed streaks in her sharply cut hair and her eyeliner even more intense than she wore now. She might have switched it up with novelty contact lenses sometimes too--she wasn’t proud of that--but she could stop a black-pentagon-bedecked ball with one black-nailed hand and aced all her history tests.

Yes, Chloe remembered Tim M. Pierce, and she also remembered opting out of another few years of being treated like she was weird and dumb.

“Are they...asking for donations? Or something?”

“I think it’s an invitation,” Chloe’s mother said. “Might be having the reunion soon.”

“The reunion,” Chloe said, as if the word was foreign to her.

“Nice timing, isn’t it? You being back for the first time in forever. You could go.”

Chloe breathed out sharply through her nose as her mother closed the door and her footsteps paced back down the hall.

Nadine leapt in front of her. “Let’s go to a hotel, ja?”

“Are you scared of her, love? She’s not going to kill us.”

Nadine shook her head so emphatically Chloe actually had to look up from turning the envelope around in her hand. “She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t like me here.”

It took a long, embarrassing moment for Chloe to even pick up on what she meant.

“Oh. No, no,” Chloe laughed, waving her hand and turning back. “No, she’s mad at me, honey. Because I haven’t been in awhile and--”

“Frazer--”

“Nadine this is my mother. She doesn’t even know--no. She had--you’ve misjudged her.”

Nadine said, flatly, “I’ll find one myself.”

“Nadine, she’s not like that. She’s just snappy. I--I get it from her,” Chloe said, sitting back down. “Where were we? Oh yes, let’s find the password.”

“You didn’t even call ahead to tell her we were coming?”

Chloe felt the nerves in Nadine’s voice, but she also felt sick that her mother had inadvertently upset her. “I’ll talk to her, Nadine. I’ll tell her to--”

“No, no, no!” Nadine was really losing it, wasn’t she, wandering around the emo-band-poster-walled fortress with her face in her hands. “Don’t say it. Don’t say I told you to--that she--”

“Was making my partner uncomfortable?”

“Ja, that’s what you don’t tell her. Do not tell her that.”

“Oh relax,” Chloe said. “Between you and Nate, she’d throw him out of the house first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That she judges character. Well. About that. You wanted to know about Tommy?” Chloe held out the open journal, showing a double-page spread of a crude drawing of a boy and her very impractically dressed self, holding hands. “He was my widdle baby crush. Mum didn’t like him.”

“Was he the psychopath type you always go for?”

Chloe laughed. “He was a good student. Squeaky-clean. She still hated the sight of him.”

“Ja, your drawing doesn’t really sell him either.”

Chloe returned fire by throwing the entire journal back at Nadine, who snatched it out of the air and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, glancing back at the door. Chloe turned back to the keyboard and typed the password that had been scrawled beneath the drawing:

ChloeAndTom4ever.

“Open sesame,” she said, as the startup noise pinged and the cursor did its loading animation.

“You think he’ll be at the reunion?” Nadine said.

“Oh, who goes to those? Did you go to yours?”

“My schools didn’t have them.”

“Well,” Chloe chuckled, but it was flat, nervous, “I didn’t enjoy my time at school, and I don’t see why I would want to be reminded.”

“Maybe he’s still single.”

“I doubt it. He’s balding and divorced, Nadine, one hundred percent. Crushes in your teen years do not hold up. Ah, here. Just...click on internet explorer...”

“God this is ancient,” Nadine muttered, having come over to hover at Chloe’s shoulder again. “Does it even have an antivirus?”

Chloe hovered the mouse over the taskbar. “McAfee.”

“Oh,” Nadine said. “Then, no.”

“I used the same password for Neopets! Let’s see. Oh. Well, the map is different. Didn’t it use to have Mcdonalds?”

Nadine bumped her arm. “I thought you called it Maccas or something here?”

Chloe squinted at her and said, “‘Didn’t it use to have Maccas?’”

Nadine’s laugh was worth it, even as Chloe reached up and gave her a poke in her stomach. Nadine held her stomach and flopped back on the bed. Chloe loved Nadine’s laugh to pieces, loved how it completely overcame her.

“See? My Neopets are all here. Nadine, pull yourself together!”

Nadine did, eventually, and came over to peer at the screen, at Chloe’s five Kaus and two Kougras of varying shades. “Starving. Starving. Starving,” Nadine recited, hovering the mouse over all of them. “Great parenting, Frazer.”

“All right, but they’re not dead, are they? I’ll just go get a free omelet and feed them now,” Chloe said.

“They’re not even wearing any clothes.”

“They’re animals, silly. They don’t wear clothes.”

Nadine snapped, “Let me log in.”

And Chloe had to stare at four perfectly dressed Mynci. Skirts, hats, entire outfits. And they were all fed.

“Someone,” Chloe said darkly, standing and grabbing Nadine’s shoulders, “Waited for me to fall asleep on the plane and logged into her account on the sly--”

“Or maybe I’m just proper at Neopets, Frazer?”

Nadine grappled her back, and they fell onto the twin mattress, giggling and slapping at each other.

“You didn’t even know they could wear clothes. All of them can wear any clothes--” Nadine was saying, as Chloe shook her by the shoulders, “not like those MMO’s that gender-lock everything--oh shit it’s your mum again--”

Nadine said the last few words lightning-fast, trying to separate from Chloe, who only grabbed her tighter, and they both tumbled to the carpet as Leah Frazer walked in.

“What are you doing. Chloe, I swear to God,” the woman said, setting a pitcher of lemonade down by the computer with two glasses. “Stop hitting Ms. Ross. You never grew up.”

“We weren’t fighting.”

“Oh come off it,” she said. “And get these posters off the walls. It feels like these freaks are about to stab me every time I walk in here.”

“You could have taken them off,” Chloe said, struggling to keep Nadine pinned to the fluffy floor. “Could have made it a nice guest room, chucked all my stuff in the bin--”

“So dramatic,” Leah said, taking her elbow and forcefully pulling her off Nadine. “And immature. Where did you get these cuts?”

She looked at Nadine too, taking her wrist, searching for the scabs that hadn’t quite healed off in the week or two since the end of their adventure in India. Nadine had treated hers, but Chloe’s definitely had worsened. “What were you doing there?”

“Mum, you remember how it was, the mosquitos--” Chloe said.

“Tree branches,” Nadine said tightly.

“--hiking is a--a contact sport--”

“You’re both lying,” Chloe’s mum said. “And to think you brushed it off when I told you about that insurrection. I was watching the news getting worse and worse and you didn’t even call to let me know you were all right, Chloe Frazer.”

The woman headed back to the door, but remembered something, as parents will after having already scolded you, and turned back. “Maybe you can show those photos at the reunion. They’re gorgeous.”

“Mum, I told you, nobody there was on my wavelength.”

Nadine burst out laughing.

A very rare smile came to Leah Frazer’s face. “Well, they usually allow a plus-one...”

#chlodine #chlodineweek #chlodineweek2021 #chloe x nadine #nadine x chloe #uncharted: the lost legacy #neopets saga

[pascalscenarios]

YOU & I (Frankie Morales x Reader)

YOU & I (Prequel to The One)

High School/Military! Frankie Morales x High School/College! Reader

Summary:  In 1996, your a Freshman in high school. It’s your first day and a long time friend, Frankie helps you throughout your day. 

Warning: 3 year age gap **Frankie and Reader do not date in high school** swearing 

Words: 3,318

Author Note: A prequel for The One! I thought it would be cute to write what Frankie and Reader relationship was like when they were younger, how they started developing feelings for each other and the young stupid drama they got themselves into. I hope you like it. Enjoy - K

CHAPTER ONE

HIGH SCHOOL 1997

“Alright, say ‘cheese’!” Your mother says holding up a camera, snapping photos of you. It was your first day of high school. You were already mortified as it was. You had no intention of looking back at this moment later in life.

“Mom, enough already!” you groaned standing in front of the front door, covering your face.

“Sweetheart, it’s your first day of high school! You’ll only have this moment once! And you look so cute!” She says admiring your outfit. You wore a white shirt and a floral slip dress over top and converse, a scrunchie in your hair securing your half up half down hairstyle.

“It’s not something I'm gonna want to remember!” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that! Just one more!” she says looking in the viewfinder.

“Mom” you groaned.

Before she could take one last photo, a car pulled up in front of your house, honking its horn.

“Come on freshie, we’re gonna be late!” Your cousin Santiago says standing up out of his blue Jeep Wrangler. You were saved.

“Gotta go, Mom, bye!” You said quickly rushing towards the Jeep.

“You guys be careful and have a nice first day!” She called from the porch.

“We will Auntie!” Santiago says plopping himself back down in his seat.

You open the door hoping inside, placing your Jansport's backpack down by your feet.

“Wait! Let me take a picture!” She shouts.

“Oh my god, please go! Driveaway! She's been taking pictures all morning!” You tell him and you sink in the passenger seat in embarrassment.

“Mom, please! We gotta go! I’ll see you later!” You shouted as Santi pulled out of there.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he drove down the street.

“She’s so embarrassing!” You groan.

“Come on, she means well and besides this is a big day for you, you're starting high school!” He nudges you.

“You’re the one to talk to, it’s your senior year!”

“Nothing I haven't done before, how are you feeling?”

“I don’t know...a little nervous I guess.”

“Don’t sweat it, High school is just like middle school except it's bigger, everyone's older and things are harder.”

“Gee, that sure washes my anxiety away.” you roll your eyes.

“Seriously, you’ll be fine and beside you’ll have me and Frankie around”

Franciso Morales was your cousin's best friend since elementary school. They’re three years older than you. You had first met Frankie when you were seven. Santiago hated when you tagged along with him and Frankie, but Frankie never seemed to mind. He always made sure to include and invite you in everything they did. The three of you have always been close, but the bond between you and Frankie was different. Frankie has always had a soft spot for you.

Santiago and Frankie still hung out with you when they were in middle school, but once they started high school and you entered middle school, you hardly saw them. They were too cool to hang out with you, who was stuck in the awkward phase of still being a kid and but on the verge of being a teenager.

For the first time in what seems like forever, your guys' lives will align once again. You weren’t gonna lie, it kinda hurt that they stopped hanging out with you all the time, but maybe since you’re starting high school, they’ll no longer treat you as a kid and they’ll start seeing you as mature.

You had no idea when the last time you saw Frankie. You hadn’t seen him all summer since he was working a summer job lifeguarding at a pool.

“Alright, Welcome Navarro...Here’s to the next 4 years in hell” Santiago laughs and he turns into school.

You noticed everyone was hanging outside in front of the school. Students sat or stood in the walkway, the font steps, or on the lawn.

Santiago weaved his way through the parking lot, waving and greeting people he drove by. He parked his car into his Senior parking stall and hopped out. You grabbed your schedule out of your bag and out of the car.

You slung your bag over your shoulder. You walked towards the back of his car staring at your school. The nerves were kicking in. You just wanted today to be easy sailing.

You looked down at your schedule.

First Period | McIntyre, Molly | Ceramics | Building G RM: 209

“Hey Santiago, can you show me where the G building is?” You say as you scan over your schedule.

“Santi?” You look beside you. He was gone. You glance towards the school, noticing he had already made his way through the parking lot, and over to a group of guys hanging around by the entrance, and they head inside. Most likely his friends and teammates from the swim team.

You sigh and roll your eyes. Guess you’ll be figuring things out on your own. You trek through the parking lot and make your way down the walkway leading to the entrance of your school.

As you walk down the hallway you notice the hustle and bustle. Santiago wasn’t lying when he said high school was bigger. Students standing around by their lockers catching up with friends jocks loudly parading around, asserting their dominance in the halls, and students trying to get where they needed to be like you.

The bell rings, and the hall quickly floods with students headed in every direction. You had people bumping into your shoulders and pushing from behind to move. You had no idea where you were supposed to go, and you only had 5 minutes to get there.

The hallway slowly started to clear up as everyone went into the classroom. You needed someone to give you directions and spotted the Janitor pushing his cart.

“Excuse me!” you said to walk up to him. “Hi sorry to bother you, but I’m lost. Could you tell me where the G building is?”

“Yeah, you go down this hall, take a left. It will lead you outside of the main building. When you get outside there should be a very colorful building with a bunch of art displays, that's where you're headed.”

“Thank you!” The bell rang. Oh, shoot.

“Yeah, no problem! You better get going now!”

You give the janitor another thank you and wave, and quickly speed walk in the path he gave you.

When you make it outside, you spot the colorful building with the art displays and fixtures outside. You made your way inside and headed to the second floor.

“207...208...209,” you said as you reached your room.

You open the door walking inside. Students were all seated at one of the five long rectangular tables in the middle of the classroom, everyone was staring at you, even the teacher. You wish the floor would swallow you up.

“And you are?” Mrs. McIntyre asked.

You give her your full name.

“Well...I don’t like tardiness, so next time get to class on time yeah? I’ll let you off with a warning. You can take a seat.”

You heard some snickering in class as you made your way over to an empty spot at one of the tables.

“Alright Class, I want you to find a partner from another table, and I want you to discuss what you did over the summer and create a drawing using the paper and material in front of you. You have the entire class period.” Mrs. McIntyre instructs.

With that, everyone got up and moved around, gravitating towards the people they already knew or people they have never met. Everyone from your table had left. You grabbed the poster paper, and a pencil. You frowned as you noticed everyone had already gotten their partners.

“Come on, where is the gorgeous smile I love so much?” You look over to someone walking toward you. They wore white shirts, jeans, sneakers, and their navy blue letterman jacket, a bag slung over their shoulder. Their hair was short but shaggy and they had a giddy smile plastered on their face.

Your face lit up seeing him. “Frankie!”

“Hey Smiles”. Smiles was his nickname for you when you were kids because you always managed to have a smile on your face even through tough times. Only he and Santiago were allowed to call you that.

“Do you have a partner? He asked.  

“No”

“Okay good” he tosses his bag on the ground, pulls out the chair, and turns slightly toward you as he sits beside you. He pulls you into a hug. You loved Frankies hugs. They were always so warm and loving.

“Ugh, look at you, a Freshie now” he was pulling away, rustling your hair.

“Hey, quit it!” You say swatting away his hand.

“How’ve you been Smiles? Excited, you're starting high school?”

“Been good. Yeah, I guess. I don’t know anyone though. All my friends went to Western, which sucks”

“I’m sure you’ll make new friends fast. You’re a likable person...” He smiles.

“How was your summer?” you ask to pick up the pencil and begin doodling on the poster paper.

He picks up a pencil and starts to draw as well. “Busy. I spent the whole summer yelling at kids and saving them from drowning in the deep end. They all think they can survive the diving board.”

“Must have been stressful.”

“Yeah it was, how about you? How was your summer?” He grabbed some colored pencils, adding color to his drawing.

“It was okay. I didn’t do anything exciting. I hung out with my friends and third wheeled with Santiago and his summer fling” you rolled his eyes.

“Oh god,” he started to laugh.

“Yeah...They made out the whole time no matter where we went. The only reason why I tagged along was because my aunt forced him to invite me to places and you know how he gets when I bud along on things…”

“I’m sorry. If I wasn’t so busy with work, I would have come along to keep you company.”

“It’s whatever. I ended up leaving them to doing my own thing while they...did whatever”

“Santiago man..” he shakes his head

“Tell me about it” you laugh

…

Frankie and you continued to draw and catch up the whole class period. You hadn’t realized how fast time went by until the bell rang.

“Alright, class write your names on the back of your paper and turn in whatever you have”

Frankie started collecting the materials, putting them back in their designated area on the table while you quickly wrote your names on the back.

You pick up your bag off the floor and slip your arms through the strap. You walk up to the front, handing in your poster Frankie follows you out into the hallways.

“Alright, what class do you have now?” He says. He takes your schedule from your hands and looks it over.

The two of you begin through the hallway and down the stairs.

“English with Mr. Hastings is the main building, A, second floor. He’s an ass and his class is pretty hard. You have to read a whole bunch of novels and write papers...” He continues to look over your schedule.

You both made it outside of G building. “Okay, you got Ms. Omura for science in C in the building right here. She’s cool. If you really wanna be her favorite, bring her chocolate...Coach Davis for PE, his class is in the gym. Mentally prepare yourself because you’re gonna be doing a lot of running. Mr. Fox for History in the main building. His class is super boring but easy. You just watch old films and documentaries and he sleeps through the whole class. Oh, and you’re taking French with Madame Keller. She’s in the N building, but I don't know what she's like. I'm in my fourth year Spanish.”

“You‘ve been taking Spanish for the last four years? You already speak Spanish. You’re bilingual.”

“Yeah, it’s an easy class for me then. Straight A’s baby” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, “Thanks for your help Frankie”

“Yeah don’t sweat it. Alright, I gotta head across campus, I’ll catch you later alright!”

“Bye” you give him a small smile and wave.

…

It was lunchtime. You were holding the tray in your hand, looking around in the loud and crowded lunchroom. You had no idea where to sit. Everyone had their clique. You noticed Santiago and Frankie were sitting with their friends.

You and Frankie make eye contact. He smiles at you, motioning with his head for you to come and sit with them. Your eyes widen, shaking your head no.

Frankie furrows his eyebrows, and tilts his head again, motioning for you to come. You sigh walking over.

“H-Hi '' you said standing in front of their table. All their eyes were on you. Some of the guys had confused or surprised looks. They were wondering who you were and why a freshman was at their table. Your heart pounded against your chest. This was a bad idea.

“Smiles, come sit by me-“ Frankie sat at the edge, but slid over on the bench so you had a place to sit.

“Frankie” Santiago says sounding annoyed, looking at him like he was crazy. You know he didn’t want you sitting with him and the guys.

“Come on, Santi it's their first day-”

“No” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s okay!” You quickly said. “I just wanted to say hi, I’ll see you guys later”. You rush away embarrassed and walk away to a nearby empty table.

You heard a bit of a commotion and protest from the guys. You look up to see leaving the table and walking towards you. Frankie sets his lunch tray down on the table, dropping his bag on the ground, and sits across from you. He picks up his sandwich to eat the rest.

“What are you doing?” You asked. You weren’t expecting me to come to sit with you.

He was just about to take a bite, his mouth gaped open “Uh... I’m about to eat my lunch” he says before chomping down into his food.

“I mean like... why are you sitting with me?”

“Am I not allowed to sit with you?” His mouth was full.

“No it’s just- shouldn’t you be sitting with Santiago and your friends?”

He swallows the bits he was chewing and sets his half-eaten sandwich down on his plate, picking up his milk “What? Are you embarrassed by being seen with me or something?” he says teasingly.

“The other way around actually. Shouldn’t you be embarrassed?”

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because you're a Senior eating lunch with a Freshman? Santiago clearly didn’t want me to sit with you guys. Look around, everyone’s staring”

He looks around the cafeteria. You were right, people were staring, even some of the swim team guys. He rolled his eyes. He could care less what people thought.

“Let them stare. I don’t care and besides, you're my friend. I’ve known you since we were kids. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. Never have, never will be. Santiago is a dick though. I’m sorry he’s being an asshat”

“You and Santi got your own thing going on and I get that-”

“But it doesn't make it right he did that” Frankie rolls his eyes. “He’s always excluded you from everything”

“I know he loves me though, even if he leaves me in the dust. Seriously I’m used to it, it's fine” you chuckle showing Frankie that you weren’t mad. It was just the way Santiago was with you. He did love you and was protective over you, but he needed his space at times. Your relationship with him, was more like your older brother than he is your cousin.

“...Thanks for sitting with me”

“Well the least you can do is give me your cookie” he took the cookie off your plate and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Hey! I was going to eat that you jerk!”

…

“I can’t take you home,” Santi tells you as the two of you stood outside of school, students weave their way around you as they headed off-campus.

“You're kidding…” you looked at him annoyed. You knew Santi needed space, you understood that, but this has gone too far.

“Look I know I promised I’d take you to and from school this whole year, but I got a date with Jennifer Ortega-” He motions to the girl standing a few feet away, she waves a Santiago, and he waves back.

“Santi, it's the first day of school, how the hell do you already have a date?”

“Worked her with my game... charm and charisma…” he smirks

“Gag me... so you're going to ditch me, and take her out”

“Well, you put it like that-”

“I seriously hate you”

“Thank you! I love you! I'll make it up to you, I promise” he grabs Jennifer's hand, rushing towards his jeep. You rolled your eyes. He could have just dropped you off at home, then went out with Jeniffer.

You headed off-campus and walked on the sidewalk, taking the path that was in the direction of your house.

You walked for a good 10 minutes. You were hating Santiago right now. Your blood was boiling. You were plotting your revenge on him when a shiny red pickup truck pulled over.

“Smiles!”

“Frankie!” You signed in relief, walking over to the window.

“Get in!”

You opened the truck door, sliding onto the truth bench. You were dripping wet.

“You’ve been a lifesaver all day, I swear” you whimper.

“Where the hell is Santi? Wasn’t he supposed to take you home?”

“Asshole fucking ditched me! He had a date! How the hell gets a date on the first day of school?!” you snapped.

Frankie veres back onto the street heading down the road.

“If he does that again, or whenever you need a ride, I’ll take you home”

“Thanks” you slump in the

“I’ll talk to him”

“Frankie, you’ve been doing that for years,-”

“Just let me deal with him okay”

“Okay, if that makes you feel better, then go right ahead”

Frankie pulls in your neighborhood. He drove several roads and made a few turns, then pulled into the driveway of your house.

“I hope your first day wasn’t too bad,” he says, parking the car.

“It wasn’t and I have you to thank for that...You helped me out a lot today. I'm glad I know I can always count on you.” you give him a small smile. “I’ll see you later Frankie”

“Bye Smiles”

With that you hop out of his truck, shutting the door. He backs out of the driveway, honking before leaving.

“Who was that?” Your mom asked. You turned around, finding her standing in the doorway.

“Frankie Morales...Santiago had something to do, he gave me a ride home”

“My gosh, he’s so cute don’t you think?”

“Mom” you groaned.

“I always liked him. He’s such a sweet boy and always sweet with you...” She smiled. “And I know you’ve always had a little crush on him”

“No! I’ve never had a crush like Frankie Morales!”

“Why are you being so defensive about it?” She cocked her eyebrows at you. “Honey there’s no shame-”

“Mom, just let it go! I don’t like him”

“You may think you don’t like him, but deep down you know you do sweetheart.” She leaves you standing outside alone, heading back into the house.

You watch Frankie's car drive down the road until he disappears around the corner.

You didn’t want to admit it, but your mother was right. You did have a crush on Frankie. You started developing a crush on him in middle school. It was a little harmless crush and it didn’t mean anything… or so you thought.

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso@greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301​  @alberta-sunrise@spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina

#Triple Frontier #frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie #Pedro Pascal #pedro

[aquamine-amarine]

Wow, there are so many things wrong with this cover. I posted the original illustrations for reference. The hair piece is on the wrong side of her head, the Humpty Lock isn't around her neck, the top of the gloves are supposed to have a lacy pattern not that curved pattern, the veil isn't supposed to have that curved pattern either it's supposed to be straight, the dress doesn't look the same. The top of her head looks weird, like it's missing. I don’t like the angle either, why didn't they go with a similar pose to the title page? I'm honestly surprised the colors in the clover are correct. I expect these kinds of mistakes from fanartists, not the original creators.

I was really looking forward to this cover and I'm kinda disappointed. Did they even reference the original design or did they just draw this from memory? There were some small details off with the Amulet Heart and Amulet Angel covers as well. That "short story" last month pissed me off too, but I never got around to posting that rant. It was just really insulting that they (along with Nakayoshi) spent all of February advertising that "short story", here I was expecting a small one shot at least, but then we got that... summary thing. I didn't like the way they were drawn either, this simplistic josei art style that they're using for Sei Shounagon to Moushimasu just isn't as pretty and detailed as their shoujo art style used to be. The coloring looks nice but it's still missing something, the eyes just aren't as detailed as they used to be. The last time they drew anything using their shoujo art style was back in 2015 when they drew this illustration of Amu and Ikuto for a manga exhibition, and it just looks so much better.

I don't want to hear anyone try to make excuses for them by blaming this on covid because that's just bullshit and I'm not buying it, they've been like this before 2020, and it kinda started around the time they started Rozen Maiden 0 in 2016. Their art style started to get really simplistic and honestly a little lazy around that time, which is a shame because the art style for the second Rozen Maiden was really good, but it regressed in RM0. I don't know why. I definitely don't like this new art style of theirs. It makes me remember how annoyed I was at the poster they drew for the second SC! artbook. I really didn't like that illustration, I felt like it was really lazy compared to the poster they drew for the first SC! artbook. It just didn't seem like a good way to wrap the series up and I felt like they could have done so much better. The volume 12 cover was amazing, why wasn't the poster at the same quality? I'm annoyed now for the same exact reason, I know they can do better but sometimes they just get lazy, and it's been happening a lot lately.

A manga reprint with new covers was something I've always wanted and I'm a little disappointed with how they turned out. The transformations chosen and the order made sense, that was fine. The background being a card was a nice touch. The new 4-komas have been cute, even though they suffer from the simplistic art style too. As for the characters on the back covers... Tadase made sense for volume 1, Nikaidou kinda made sense for volume 2 with that wrapping up his arc... but now I'm thinking maybe he shouldn't have been on the back covers at all and it should have just been the Guardians + Utau and Ikuto. Although it was inevitable that some characters were going to be left out. Personally I think it should have been:

Volume 1 - Tadase Volume 2 - Kuukai Volume 3 - Rima Volume 4 - Nagihiko Volume 5 - Utau Volume 6 - Ikuto

Another thing, did everyone at Nakayoshi forget that it's SC!'s 15th anniversary too, not just Peach-Pit's 20th anniversary? I haven't seen anyone mention this at all.

This turned into a pretty scathing rant. I really do love SC! and Peach-Pit, I guess I just expect a lot from them since RM and SC! are their best works and they can do really well when they actually try. It just feels like in recent years they haven't been and it makes me a little sad. I’m glad this manga is finally getting some love and attention again, because it deserves it.

#Rozen Maiden #Rozen Maiden 0 #Shugo Chara! #Shugo Chara #Peach Pit

[thesecretfandom]

(NOT) A Onetime Thing

Chapter Four: Teaser

Word Count: 3,316

A/N: Follow along with my music inspiration. I’ll post one song which helped me to write each chapter. Chapter Four: Native Tongue - Switchfoot

-

On Monday morning, Jughead found himself in the glorified supply closet that served as the office of the Red and Black. Being damn near the only person interested in literature in the school, he was the self-elected editor. Toni would occasionally submit photos to accompany his articles, but has all but given up on that hobby since she started seeing Cheryl.

Still, Toni accompanied him this morning for the required recruitment meeting that took place at the beginning of the school year. Jughead would be perfectly happy having this room to himself to hide in during the school day. Maybe he'd survive his Senior year after all.

A timid knock came to the door and both Toni and Jughead jerked their heads in that direction.

"Uh, hi…" A young girl, Freshman probably, entered the small room. "Is this the meeting for the school newspaper?"

"It is." Jughead replied. He regarded the new girl skeptically. "Are you here on a dare?"

"Jug…" Toni warned.

"Sorry, but no one has ever come to this meeting before."

"No, it's not a dare, I promise." The girl said quickly. She dropped her backpack onto one of the desks and stuck out her hand to Jughead. "My name is Claire. I just moved to Riverdale this summer so I don't really know anybody yet."

Jughead shook her hand… an odd thing between two high school students. It made her seem intelligent, so maybe she'd make a decent addition to his nonexistent team.

"So, you like to report? We like to publish really hard hitting stuff here."

"Actually, I'm really interested in illustration. I can show you some of my work." Claire reached for her backpack but Jughead waved her off.

"We don't need an illustrator. We need writers."

"Jughead, give her a chance." Toni punched his shoulder and moved to sit at the desk where the girl had dropped her bag. "I'd like to see them please."

Claire's hands were shaking when she reached into her bag to retrieve the drawings. He felt bad. He always had a habit of being a bit gruff with new people. Must be a side effect of the gang membership. He tried to remember what it was like when he'd first come to Southside Middle School. He'd been terrified of the other kids who'd been there all their lives. The number of fights he'd gotten into just because he'd been born and raised on the Northside… he could see now why this girl seemed so nervous.

"I do like to write, too." Claire pulled something else from her backpack. A flash drive. "I saw the poster for the meeting so I made this in advance. It's stuff I wrote in eighth grade, at my old school. I was the president of our school paper there. I know it's not as good as your stuff, but I think I'm well equipped to improve."

"How do you know?" Jughead took the flash drive.

"Excuse me?"

"How do you know it's not as good as my stuff?"

"Oh, well I read some of the stuff you wrote. There are stacks of the Red and Black in the library."

Jughead looked at Toni, who was engrossed in the sketchbook Claire had shown her. Then he looked back at Claire, who was fidgeting as she stood under his intense gaze. He noticed her hair was up in a tight ponytail and she wore a floral shirt and knee length skirt. He couldn't help but think of Betty, the Betty he knew in middle school before everything had gone to shit. She was eager, excited, and seemed intelligent. All traits that were sorely lacking in the student population of Southside High.

(READ THE REST ON AO3)

#bughead #bughead fanfic #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead #edit #fanfic #enemies to lovers