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bring-forth-his-sac · 2 months ago

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Stained: The Dinner Party

summary: you made Negan a promise and now it's time to deliver... if you can get some time alone with him

word count: 9.5k

tags: ! NSFW ! dad's best friend trope, pre-apocalypse, cheating, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facials, swearing & crude language, vaginal fingering, degrading names (slut, whore), semi-public kinda public secret sexual acts in front of others? Idk how to word that one but you get the gist

you can find part 1 here!!

“Hey everybody, welcome back to my channel! Here are my top tips for giving some gluck gluck before you fuck fuck!”.

You can’t believe you’ve reached this point and yet here you are. “Shit,” you mutter to yourself, turning down the volume on your phone. The last thing you need is for one of your parents to walk past and hear that introduction.

It’s been a month. One long month since you had your romp with Negan. You were supposed to see him sooner, your parents having arranged another dinner, but the Smith’s had to cancel due to Negan having Summer exams and assessments to get through.

“Ok, first tip for when you’re slobbering on some man meat. Just because your mouth is the main focus doesn’t mean you can’t use your hands too!”.

You let the video you found online play in the background as you try to tame your hair. You have one thing on your mind tonight. The last time you saw Negan, after he gave you a fucking of a lifetime, you made him a promise. The next one of your parent’s dinner parties that he attends, you’ll suck him off. And damn right you plan on keeping that promise.

Pulling out your clothes, you dump your options on to the bed. You have to be strategic about this. Slutty but not too slutty. Modest but in a sexy secretary way, not like a nun.

“Make eye contact! And no, I don’t mean with his third eye! Guys love it when you got their… y’know… haha! …God, I hope this doesn’t get demonized but y’know, their sausage in your mouth and you look up at them”.

You cringe at the fake laughing the video is filled with. The only reason you’re watching this is to make sure you give Negan the best blowjob of his life. Where, you’re not sure yet. Under the table sounds hot but isn’t practical. Dragging him to your bedroom is way too suspicious.

The video continues as you think.

“And don’t forget, be enthusiastic! Take charge! Just because he’s the one getting off doesn’t mean he needs to have complete control… although that can be fun too. Huh, maybe I should do a video on not gagging next”.

Your attention shifts to a long-sleeved top. It doesn’t show much cleavage but it’s snug enough to stir the imagination. Pairing it with a skirt is non-negotiable. You already know a skirt is a must, especially if you want to give Negan easy access.

With a sigh, you reach over and turn off the video. Useless. The advice wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t the almighty best blowjob of his life material you were hoping for.

You glance at the outfit laid out on the bed. You slip them on, smoothing the fabric over your hips as you turn towards the mirror.

Not bad.

You had planned to try a few other looks, maybe something a little more casual in case this one didn’t feel right. But before you can assemble the second outfit, a cacophony of voices creeps under your door.

They’re here.

You freeze for a second. The moment’s no longer theoretical. Negan’s in your house… and so is his wife. Your name rings out, your mother’s voice carrying it. “Come say hi” she calls, her voice already in host mode. You take one last look in the mirror, fix a stray hair and open the door.

The hallway is buzzing with life. Negan stands near the entryway, his presence commanding but relaxed in that way only he can pull off. He barely glances your way, offering a polite nod before turning his attention back to your dad, who’s already launching into something about cars.

Lucille, on the other hand, pulls you straight into a hug the second you’re within reach. “Look at you, gorgeous! All dolled up!” she says, bracelets clinking on her wrists. You manage a smile and hug her back, slightly overwhelmed.

Everyone starts moving deeper into the house, your dad talks Negan’s ear off and your mom is caught in a flurry of Lucille’s questions about what’s for dinner. Overlapping voices bounce off the walls. You try to hang back for a second but you’re forced to move along with the chaotic current.

And then you feel it. A hand brushes against your waist and gives a brief, deliberate squeeze. It’s fleeting but you know it’s him.

The second Negan saw you, he knew the night was going to be trouble. That outfit didn’t have him fooled. The way that top hugs you, the sway of your skirt. He barely let his eyes linger as you’re swept into the kitchen with the other ladies. Tonight, you’re a woman on a mission and damn if he didn’t respect the hell out of that.

“Honey,” your mom blindly shoves a fistful of cutlery in your direction, not bothering to look up from her work on the kitchen counter. Even with the whole day to prepare, she’s somehow behind schedule and only whipping up the batter for dessert now.

“Help set the table,” she politely orders. You know there’s no room for debate, taking the array of forks and blunt knives.

You don’t mind helping out, especially when you see Negan and your dad in the dining room already. Where Lucille has wandered to, you’re unsure. Maybe the bathroom, or maybe she entered the kitchen a few moments after you left, barely missing each other. It’s like there’s a constant rotation in and out of each room. As if to prove your point, when you enter the dining room, you almost bump into your dad as he leaves.

You don’t waste your opportunity, not knowing any many times you’ll get to be alone with Negan tonight. “Your sweatshirt is inside my bedroom, by the door, in a bag,” you keep your voice low as you set the table “I can get it if you’d like to put it in your truck”.

You figured he’d appreciate the gesture. Straight to helping sort this shit out. Not trying to get in his pants straight away or acting as if nothing happened. Simply being practical.

Negan gives a soft scoff but you can’t quite tell if it’s amusement or annoyance. “That’s all I get?” you almost melt as the smirk he gives you as he whispers “No hi, how are you? How’s your dick doing?”.

A mischievous smile plays at your lips. You shrug casually “Well, since you asked… how is it?”.

“Missing you” Negan answers, not missing a beat.

You try to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “I haven’t forgotten about my promise,” you mention, watching out of the corner of your eye as Negan rounds the table to you.

“Neither have I” he practically growls, crowding behind you. “The other morning, I woke up with my dick about to explode just thinking about it,” he nuzzles against you, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

Despite needing to stay alert, your eyes slowly shut. You savor his scruff against your neck, making the sensitive skin tingle.

Negan isn't as aggressive as he was that night at the bar but he isn’t very soft either. It’s like he has a natural roughness to him, the way he kisses, the way he fucks. All of which you know a little too well.

Bringing your comfort to an end, you hear your mother laugh, probably at something Lucille is saying. Negan must know it too as his lips leave you.

“My sweatshirt is in your room?” He repeats.

You nod immediately “In a Target bag, yeah”.

Negan moves away from you, back to his casual position at the other side of the table as you hurriedly finish setting the cutlery. He goes to speak again but before Negan can get a word out, your mother is bustling into the room with a hot bowl of mashed potatoes.

“New recipe!” She announces to Lucille, who trails in after her. You try not to catch her eye.

“Instead of the usual spices, I tried being more adventurous with my potatoes” Your mother rambles.

Lucille simply nods along, her eyes studying you instead. You barely said hi to her when she first got here, despite how friendly she was to you. All Lucille got was a smile she can only describe as pitiful and now you won’t even look at her.

She goes to examine Negan’s body language next but when Lucille turns, she’s met with empty space. Like a ghost, he’s vanished.

“And I actually listened to the recipe this time and put honey in with the carrots!” Your mother prides herself on her skills “Carrots… oh shoot, the carrots!”. Much to your horror, your mother darts out of the room and back to the kitchen, leaving you and Lucille alone.

A beat of silence.

Another.

It’s only when the silence stretches a little too long do you finally lift your eyes to meet hers. She’s smiling.

“I like your skirt,” she says, her voice soft and strangely warm. “I used to wear things like that all the time when I was your age”.

You offer a small shrug “Thanks. Honestly, I kinda forgot I had it”.

She lets out a light laugh, as if you’ve both been part of some unspoken mischief. Well, maybe you both are but if Lucille found that out, you don’t think she’d be laughing.

“It’s a bold choice for daylight,” she says “I almost wore a dress that short today, but I came to my senses before stepping out the door”.

You're not sure whether to laugh with her or lob the nearest utensil across the table. Something about how she talks feels like both an invitation and insult.

“Negan liked it though,” she adds, her lips curling into a teasing smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The comment lands too precisely. It’s enough to make you wonder if Lucille knows or if everything she says now feels like an interrogation thanks to your own guilty conscience. You force a smile, lips pressed into a thin line and you offer a silent ‘thank you’ to the universe when your mother’s voice floats in from the kitchen, calling your name.

Lucille’s smile lingers, soft and undisturbed, as you retreat. She doesn’t so much as blink. The image must remain untouched: the perfect wife with the perfect life, part of a marriage that still radiates that golden glow of first love. At least, that’s what she tells herself. Now, if only she could track down her damn husband to complete the illusion.

Lucille moves with practiced grace, her heels silent on the floor as she slips out of the dining room. She skirts the kitchen without a glance, already knowing if Negan were in there, she’d have heard his laugh by now, booming and obnoxious as always when he's trying to charm someone. Either you or your mother. The uncertainty around which one makes her queasy.

The bathroom door hangs open. No voices float down the hall. No telltale murmur of sports stats or banter with your dad. Her brow twitches. Where the hell did he go? As she passes the front window, something outside catches her eye. A flash of movement. Bingo.

Negan shuts the car door with a thud, leaving the bag with his sweatshirt on the back seat. Thankfully, he’s already decided to grab the opportunity to have a cigarette while outside, giving himself the perfect alibi as Lucille steps out the front door.

“Hey” she plainly says, walking down the porch steps.

“Hey yourself,” Negan mutters, flicking his lighter to life. The cigarette catches and he takes a long drag, eyes half-lidded as if this were the most peaceful moment he’d had all day.

Lucille doesn’t return the ease. “You already need a smoke break?”.

Negan lets out a dry laugh that doesn’t quite make it past his throat. “Nope. Just figured I’d come out here and take a shit on their lawn” he answers sarcastically.

Lucille doesn’t suppress any part of her reaction. The breath she exhales is sharp. Her arms fold across her chest, shoulders drawn tight. The eye roll is textbook. And none of it is subtle.

“Can you not for, like… the two hours we’ll be here? That’s all I ask” she snips back. She pauses for a moment, sniffs and then sighs “Now you’re going to stink”.

He shrugs, glancing toward the house with vague disinterest. “The place already smells like someone cremated a vegetable patch. I doubt my cigarette’s gonna make the top ten list of offences”.

Whatever fantasy Lucille has been holding onto, the white-picket fences and synchronized laughter, begins to waver and fray around the edges. Her lips press into a tight line.

“Just put it out and get back inside,” she says, already turning on her heels.

She doesn’t wait for his reply. If she stays out here any longer, she’ll lose whatever thread of control she has left. The door swings shut behind her.

Negan watches the smoke curl up from his cigarette, then exhales a slow stream of it through his nose. The evening has already been a pain in the ass. Now, it’s worse. If he had been thinking about dragging you somewhere quiet before, that thought’s locked in now.

Guilt doesn't hit as hard when all he gets from his wife are barbed jabs and a cold shoulder. Maybe he’s not innocent either. He knows his jokes have a way of biting back but hell, lately it feels like even breathing wrong is a crime.

They’re fucked, really. Negan knows it and deep down and he assumes Lucille does too. But how can either one of them back out of the marriage now when they’ve sunken so much into it? A mortgage, a house, loans, debts. Damn, Negan really needs your sweet mouth around him now. The perfect distraction from the hole he’s dug himself.

You try not to be obvious as you look for Negan. He’s not with your dad or in the dining room. You haven’t seen Lucille either which gives you an odd feeling of dread, knowing they’ve both disappeared. But before you have to worry for long, your mother calls for everyone to get seated for dinner.

You settle into your seat, subtly ensuring the chair next to you remains vacant. You're not confident (or stupid) enough to give a Negan a handy while everyone is having dinner but a little touching here and there shouldn’t hurt, right?

Even when your mother sits at one side of you, you still have some hope as Negan and Lucille enter. You don’t let it interfere with your plans, the empty space on your other side holding your hope. His eyes meet yours and you feel like a tween going through puberty as you instantly smile. But that’s when the free chair beside you scrapes against the floor.

Like a bewildered animal, your head snaps in that direction to see another smile. Lucille. Again.

… Great.

“This seat taken?” she asks, already sitting down.

Like some sick nightmare, Negan has to sit in front of the two women in his life: you and his wife. He tries not to be awkward about it, selfishly not meeting your eyes as Lucille badgers you with questions.

"Got a boyfriend yet? I’m sure there’s a line of them after you,” she compliments “When I was your age, it was boys, parties, always out with friends. Life never slowed down”.

She barely takes a breath before continuing.

“Have you thought about moving out? Getting your own place? I did it around your age, had a place with a few girlfriends. It was wild. Eventually it felt like home, like it was really mine. Maybe it’s time you tried that too. Not just yet, I guess, but hopefully soon, right?".

You spear a forkful of greens and chew with exaggerated focus, nodding along as if Lucille’s barrage of personal questions hasn’t just lit your cheeks on fire. Sure, because still living with your parents is something you want to be quizzed about!

Thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, Lucille moves the conversation on to your mother instead. “How would you feel about it? Think you would get empty nest syndrome?” she asks.

Negan tries not to wince as he eavesdrops, pretending to listen to your dad shittalking his co-workers. People say Negan’s the brash and direct one but goddamn, he knows Lucille can come straight out with it sometimes.

He sees it happen, so slow and subtle, and yet the most obvious thing in the room. Your posture, once open and lively, now folding in on itself like a page being creased. The spark behind your eyes has dulled, replaced by that quiet look people wear when they’re trying not to feel too much. You’re retreating and something about it twists in his chest in a way he didn’t expect.

Negan hates it. Hates that look on you. Hates that Lucille’s running her mouth without a clue, and that he’s just sitting here, watching it happen.

Without thinking, he shifts in his seat and slides his foot across the floor under the table. Just a small nudge. A silent gesture. He hopes it lands gently against your ankle, enough to catch your attention without making a scene.

His way of saying ‘I see you, baby’.

But the contact he makes isn’t with your foot.

Across from him, Lucille doesn’t say a word. Her smile doesn't change, and her tone stays light as she continues chatting with your mother. Negan feels the light pressure in return. A slow and smooth, gentle graze up the side of his calf. He exhales, just a little, the knot in his chest loosening.

In his mind, this is your way of answering him. A quiet ‘I’m okay’.

He doesn’t look at you directly. Just a small, sweeping glance. But what he sees only deepens that warmth: the way you're acting completely natural, your face still quiet but softer now, as if you feel it too.

Negan doesn’t realize that it’s not your foot gently stroking his leg under the table. Nor does he see the barely there smile playing at the corners of Lucille’s mouth as she continues her conversation, pretending nothing is happening. Her leg remains where it is, answering a call Negan isn’t actually posing her.

Remaining completely oblivious, you chew mundanely on your food. You pray you’ll get a chance alone with Negan, trying to come up with different excuses or scenarios that would allow it. Unable to help himself, Negan steals another glance your way. His gaze is gentle but full of something far too close to longing.

He doesn’t even realize the softness in his expression, the unguarded affection carved into his features. It’s the kind of look no one gives their wife after years of a marriage built more on duty than desire. It’s the look of a man who’s found something he thought was long gone. Hope. Lust. Yearning.

And Lucille sees it.

At first, she’s still convinced the foot under the table means what she wants it to mean. Her leg lingers against his, her smile patient and waiting for him to respond. Anything. A smirk or a quick look her way to confirm the game she thinks they’re playing. But when she follows the direction of his gaze and sees who it’s truly meant for, something shifts in her.

The realization comes slow. She watches the way Negan looks at you and her stomach turns. There’s no flirtation in his eyes when they land on you. No coyness. Just a quiet ache of something raw, real and undeniably not meant for her.

Her smile falters. It’s small, almost imperceptible but it’s there. The first crack in the polished exterior. She blinks, refocuses on her plate, and subtly draws her leg back under the table, leaving a space between her and Negan where, for a brief moment, she thought something still lived.

Negan still hasn’t noticed. His eyes going from you to the occasional nod and look in your father’s direction as he pretends to pay attention.

You only look up because the scrap of your fork against your plate feels too loud. The hum of overlapping conversations blurs into the background as your gaze lifts, landing on him. Negan. Goddamnit maybe dropping your fork and getting under the table wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

At this point, any apprehension you felt about sucking him off is long gone. Now you just want to unzip his pants and get it out.

The rest of dinner unfolds in a muted haze. Your mother and Lucille carry most of the conversation, chatting about mutual friends and upcoming functions, their voices a constant thread weaving through the meal.

Across the table, Negan and your father exchange low, obligatory small talk. Work, sports, something about the grill. You mostly keep to yourself, quietly eating while nodding politely whenever your mother or Lucille pulls you into the flow of conversation.

After the plates are clean of any food, the table begins to empty. Your father claps Negan on the back and steers him toward the living room, already launching into some half-hearted commentary about the game that’s on. Negan goes with him, disappearing into the living room as your dad shuts the door.

Your mother, ever the hostess, is already stacking plates, humming to herself as she bustles into the kitchen. You follow with a handful of glasses and Lucille trails behind, offering to help put things away. You nod along, moving through the motions of cleanup while the conversation floats around you.

But you’re not done yet. You still have a dick appointment you’re determined to get to. You catch a moment and begin to meander towards the hall when your mother notices your slow edging towards the door.

“Honey? Where are you off to?” she questions but thankfully doesn’t give you enough time to answer, already continuing the conversation on her own “Just leave the boys alone, ok? You know what they’re like when it comes to sport”.

She turns to Lucille, having already lost interest in you. “They act like they’re in their own personal conclave! And I don’t mind it, it gives us some peace and quiet but do they always have to hog the tv?”.

You slip out before Lucille replies to her. Unfortunately, you know your mother is right. Going into the men while they’re in sports mode won’t achieve anything. Actually, all that will do is make you more horny since you’ll be in his presence again. So instead, you haunt the hall, hovering so you’ll hear any movement. Maybe then you can coax him into your room.

In the living room, your father leans back into the couch with a low grunt, beer in hand, eyes on the muted game on the television. Negan sits beside him, feigning interest. His gaze drifts towards the door. Negan can feel himself getting antsy but he knows he has a role to play.

“Jesus, you see that throw?” he commentates on the game, chuckling “Kid’s got an arm like a rocket launcher but that defense makes me think he has shit for brains”.

Your dad laughs, and the two keep the steady rhythm of back-and-forth, Negan tossing in his usual sarcastic jabs and colourful commentary.

But every few minutes, his eyes stray toward the door again. Negan knows he needs to see you, to feel you. Being as casual as possible, he stands with a stretch.

“Alright,” Negan says “Think I’ll go see what the ladies are up to, ask how long ‘til dessert’s ready”. Your dad waves him off, paying more attention to the game than Negan slipping out.

When Negan goes out to the quiet hallway, he breathes a silent sigh of relief. He needs a moment to slip away, to ease the itch under his skin with a quick smoke and silence. Laughter can be heard behind the closed kitchen door. It’s the kind of sound that should feel warm but only makes him feel out of place.

He slides a hand into his pocket, fingertips brushing the worn edge of his lighter when he hears you.

“Hi,” is all you say, almost shyly.

That’s already enough to make Negan want to scoff. You’re a lot of things but as you displayed the last time he saw you, you ain’t shy.

“Tonight’s not really going how I expected” you admit.

Negan assesses you carefully. “So you weren’t expecting dinner and a headache?” he says, voice low and a little rough. He doesn’t have to glance toward the kitchen for you to catch his meaning. The nattering, the laughter, neither wife has let up.

You shrug, the slow curl of your shoulder borders on playful. “I mean, I was expecting a headache,” you murmur “just not from them”.

A faint ghost of a smirk graces his face. “Not exactly the easiest place for a… quiet moment,” he mutters.

You huff a soft laugh through your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “A few minutes of privacy is all we’d need” you reply in a teasing tone.

That brings out his smirk unapologetically. “Just a few minutes? Someone’s confident in their abilities” Negan muses.

A few minutes. It doesn’t sound like a big ask but apparently it is. With your dad planted on the couch and the kitchen full of wine-soaked commentary and stories that won’t end, every chance keeps slipping through your fingers.

You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting someone to call your name. Instead, you notice something at the end of the hallway.

The bathroom door cracked open.

You look back at Negan, a spark lighting behind your eyes. “What about in there?” you ask, tilting your head towards it. Your voice is just above a whisper now, conspiratorial.

His eyes follow your line of sight, then return to yours. For the first time all evening, it feels like maybe the night isn’t a complete loss.

That glint in his eyes sharpens, like he’s been waiting for the green light that he didn’t think would actually come. “You serious?” he questions, already angling his body toward the door like gravity’s working in your favor now.

You don’t answer, the flash of a promiscuous look being enough. Turning on your heels, you hear Negan already moving behind you, both of you making a b-line for the bathroom.

A hand brushes against your lower back to urge you forward, or maybe to steady himself from the thrill of it. A burst of laughter echoing from the kitchen makes you almost break into a run. Negan must feel the pump of adrenaline too as he nudges you along.

You slide inside first, turning quickly to pull him in behind you. He catches the handle just before it clicks too loud, easing it shut with the care of someone defusing a bomb. Then the lock turns with a soft yet satisfying snap.

Your heart flutters and you try to convince yourself it’s the adrenaline and not the nerves of giving a bad blowjob. But you don’t let it deter you. This isn’t the time to get hesitant and coy.

Like that video said, be enthusiastic! Time to put your money where your mouth is… well, put his dick where your mouth is actually.

Negan took charge the last time and so you do what you can to set yourself up as the one controlling things this time. Getting down on your knees, your hands latch on to his belt as you look up at him.

“I’ve been waiting for my dessert,” you purr, slowly tracing a hand down to his bulge.

Negan sucks in through his teeth, back hitting off the wall. He can see you’re eager, that’s for sure. And so he keeps his hands by his side, letting you have your fun first.

He groans at the pressure of your hand giving his bulge a small squeeze. “Fuck me…” he whispers, trying to compose himself already. With a deep breath, he asks “You sure you wanna do this?”.

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” You reply with a smile, slowly unbuckling his belt.

“Fuck yeah you did,” he keeps his voice low, hands twitching to bury into your hair.

Popping open the button of his jeans, you tug down the zip. There’s a nervous excitement in your stomach as you unwrap your present, the tips from the horrendous video linger in the back of your mind.

Pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough, you free his stiffening cock. Negan can feel his lust dulling his inhibitions. All signs say to stop and yet he can’t help himself growling out a command to you.

“Suck”.

Slowly, you bring your mouth to the tip. You remember to use your hands, holding the base as you lick the smooth head. "Sweet Jesus..." he hisses through clenched teeth, watching as your tongue teases the sensitive tip.

"Baby," Negan groans, hips shifting forward slightly "Less teasing, more sucking. Time's a-tickin'.”

As much as he loves this, he knows your time together is limited. His hands can’t help themselves anymore, going to your hair as if there’s a magnetic pull.

You take the tip and just a bit more into your mouth. You suck gently, applying light pressure as you pull back, letting the head slip out of your mouth with an audible pop. You repeat this motion slowly, taking as much as you can into your mouth.

Negan watches as you try to take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck. He's too big for you to deepthroat but he loves how your lips stretch around him.

When you tighten your grip, wrapping your hands around what you can’t get into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, Negan thinks you might suck whatever measly soul he has straight out of his dick.

His eyes roll back slightly, enjoying the sight of you working him. "That's it," he encourages, hips instinctively moving in sync with your mouth "just like that". He groans, his hand guiding your head gently. You gag, more of him having gone into you than you anticipated. With a slight splutter, you pull back and breathe.

“Sorry” you quickly wipe away some spit threatening to dribble out of your mouth. "Shh, it's okay," he whispers "but fuck sweetheart, I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you keep doing that”.

You give a smirk, regaining your breathing. Holding his cock, you lick up the underside, feeling Negan’s hands tighten in your hair.

“But you promised me a facial” you pretend to pout before focusing on sucking the tip again.

"Fuck I know..." He watches hungrily as you suck the head, his balls tightening. His grip in your hair starts to guide you faster as he yearns to cum and paint that pretty face of yours.

"Suck harder, I know you can… where’s the fuckin’ slut from before gone, eh?" Negan pants, that degrading man you met at the bar starting to come out.

You give a small moan, staring up at him. His cock goes further back your throat again but this time you try not to gag, concentrating on sucking him off.

You’re a walking contradiction and Negan loves it. Big innocent eyes looking up at him, but with the eager mouth of a whore that just got a hundred bucks.

"You look like you should be on your knees taking communion, not sucking dick,” his voice drops an octave, watching your lips stretch around him "Choke on it?".

You blink for a moment, tears almost running down your face as you take in his request. Going as far down as you can, his cock fills your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You feel your throat convulse but you hold position.

A strangled noise leaves you but it only makes his dick throb. “Y’could be a world class slut, you know that?” With lust taking over, Negan’s hands pull your head down further.

Drool pools in your mouth, overflowing down your chin. Despite your brain hardly functioning, you gently cup his balls with your hands, trying to do as much as possible for him. Holding position for a few seconds, you pull back, spit following you as you catch your breath again.

"You’re killing me..." Negan groans as you pull back, letting you catch your breath before diving back in. His hands guide your head, setting a pace that's fast but shallow.

"Keep looking up at me like that,” he orders “wanna see you take it”.

As you concentrate not gagging, you can feel the wet warmth between your own legs building. Each shallow thrust of his hips, each taste of pre-cum, makes your core ache with desire. Your panties become damp as your arousal grows and you can't help but press your thighs together.

"Fucking beautiful," he says, his voice thick with lust. It’s like Negan can’t decide what he wants. One moment he’s pushing your head further down his dick but the next he’s pulling your head back so he can see your tear-streaked face better. You don’t mind though, trying to catch a breath whenever you can.

You don’t hear every word he says, the noises coming from your own mouth distracting you. " …pathetic slut..." you hear him say, before he corrects himself “... my pathetic slut“.

The words only encourage you. Your hands work in tandem with your mouth, knowing you can’t possibly have much more time with him alone. Surely someone will come looking for one of you soon. Or someone will need to use the bathroom.

He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head down harder onto his dick “Open your fucking mouth wider”. You try to do so but you gag around him.

"Take it, baby, I know you can" he growls, pushing your head down further despite your gagging. His hips start moving, fucking your mouth roughly. Each thrust resonates through your entire body. Thankfully, your gagging eases but you can still feel your reflex attempt to trigger with each thrust of his dick.

"Shit..." Negan sees the mess he’s making of you. The spit. The tears that naturally come with gagging so much. And he can only fantasize about the mess in your panties.

Pulling your head back sharply, his length slaps against your cheek. You give a small whine as he does, having little time to process what’s happening as you follow his orders.

"Open," He grunts, fisting his length tightly “Wanna see how much I get in”.

Your mouth stays open, tongue out and ready to catch his cum. You don’t have to wait long until you feel the ropes of warm cum landing, but not just on your tongue. Negan paints your face.

Cheeks. Nose. Chin. Lips.

“That’s it” He approves, giving a few final strokes before squeezing out the last drops onto your tongue.

You don’t need a mirror to know you look a mess and the laugh Negan let’s out seems to confirm your thoughts. "You look like a damn porno" he says.

Letting go of your hair, he brings a hand around to your face, spreading the cum by your mouth around your lips. You take the opportunity to suck his thumb, licking the cum off and swallowing all he had given you.

You let it go with a small pop, mimicking the same treatment his dick got. “Was it good?” You ask, your hoarse voice surprising you.

"Was it good?" He repeats, chuckling deeply as he stuffs his softening dick back into his pants. "You're fucking kidding me, right? Look at you. You're a goddamn mess” He gestures to your cum-covered face, a smug grin on his face.

You're unsure whether or not that answers your question, or if any of it is a good thing. Negan sees the cogs turning in your head. ”You took that like a pro, sweetheart" he assures you, gently helping you up onto your feet.

Not done teasing yet, you gather other spurts of cum from your cheeks and lick that off your fingers next.

“Thanks” you shrug, playing off how relieved you are.

Negan grins widely, impressed by your dedication. “You’re a fuckin’ keeper, you know that?” He drawls, reaching a hand out to ruffle your already messed up hair. It’s strange to feel such a platonic action after he’s just fucked your face but that’s who Negan is, you suppose.

One minute you’re being chastised for wearing provocative clothing. The next, Negan is tearing your dress off in a public bathroom. One minute you’re slut or whore, the next you’re ‘sweetheart’ again.

The only constant so far is bathrooms. That makes you pause for a moment before saying “We have to stop doing this by a toilet. It’s weird”.

He barks out a laugh at that, quickly covering his mouth. Negan waits a moment, waiting for someone to come see what’s going on. But when no one interrupts, he continues “You stay at, uh… what’s that friend of yours name again? The one you lied to your folks about being with the last time?”.

“Lydia,” you answer, turning on the sink tap. Catching a look of yourself, you’re surprised you don’t look half bad. Maybe stained looks good on you.

“Right, you sleep over at hers often?” He asks, taking his time as he buckles his belt.

You carefully splash some on your face “I guess, yeah… why?”.

“So if you told them you were staying at hers some night, they’d believe it?” Negan asks “No questions asked?”.

You nod, eyes meeting his and you try to manage your hair. The smirk says it all.

“Huh… all I’d need to do is feed Lucille some shit and we could have a night away somewhere, finally get you alone without sneaking around”.

Your body screams at the idea but you try not to show your excitement. “You’d have to pay for the hotel room though,” you say snarkily “I think that’s the least you could do”.

He laughs again, lower this time. “Careful baby,” he gives you ass a firm smack as he passes for the door. The sting makes you jolt, half from the hit but half from the way he’s already slipping away.

You always knew your time with him came in fleeting, stolen slices. But that doesn’t make it any less confusing. Or any easier.

“Wait,” you blurt out, the word catching before it’s fully formed. Negan freezes, one hand resting on the lock. Slowly, he turns his head back to you.

“What about me?” you ask, voice quieter now. He doesn’t answer straight away. Letting it linger for a moment, the anticipation builds.

Negan lets out a low whistle. “Oh, sweetcheeks,” he drawls, voice dripping with that infuriating charm “You know I wanna eat that pussy like it’s my last meal but…”. He clicks his tongue, mock sympathy curling in his tone. “Time just ain’t on our side, honey.”

And just like that, he slips out the door with maddening ease, leaving behind a whole lot of unfinished business. You let out a huff.

He called you a whore but at least they get paid. All you got for your efforts was a smack on the ass and a bare face, most of your make-up having washed away with his cum.

Negan knows your type, knows you’d probably jump him if he didn’t leave the bathroom. One taste of dick and you’ll be wet all day. The thought alone makes his dick throb again, already missing your mouth.

Going back into the sitting room, your dad is like a statue, in the same position as before. Negan gives a grimacing tight lipped smile, as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Sitting back down on his spot on the couch, Negan apologizes “Sorry if I smell like smoke”.

He’d rather your dad think he was having a cigarette outside rather than face fucking the man’s daughter. Your dad waves off Negan’s faux concern, mumbling the moments of the game he missed. Negan sinks into the couch comfortably, knowing that as long as you don’t make it obvious, you’ve both gotten away with another escapade.

Still in the bathroom, cool water runs over your wrists as you try to bring your heart rate back down. You smooth a hand down your top but thankfully everything looks fine. Small mercies there’s not drops of Negan splattered all over your outfit.

The click of the doorknob spins your stomach before your brain can catch up. The door swings open and your mother steps in, mid-sentence on about wine refills when he sees you.

“Jesus!” she yelps, hand flying to her chest “You scared me half to death!”.

You whip around, just as startled. “Sorry! I—sorry, I mustn’t have locked it” you blabber.

She narrows her gaze, scanning your face like she's the Terminator instead of your mother. Subtle, trained and looking for anything out of the ordinary.

“You okay?” she asks.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I just needed a minute. I’m feeling a little weird” You gesture vaguely toward the sink as if it can be your alibi.

She frowns, but not suspiciously. You thank whatever higher power there is when her tone seems more concerned. “You feeling sick?” she presses.

“No, no. I’m fine,” You say too fast before shrugging, deciding that maybe you shouldn’t deny a good excuse “I mean, maybe, I just feel kinda strange y’know?”.

She studies you for a moment longer. You’re fully dressed, your hair’s in place, and nothing smells like guilt or sex. Just a hint of soap and whatever dignity you managed to salvage.

“Well,” she sighs, brushing past you to grab a hairpin from the vanity. “Don’t lurk in here too long. I was about to serve dessert if you’re up for it”.

You nod again, giving a sheepish smile you hope might look weak in a sickly way. “Yeah, I think I can muster up having some cake”.

She gives you one last glance and then steps out, leaving the door open this time. Giving yourself a quick look, you silently tell yourself to keep it together.

You’re glad to see how refreshed you look. Maybe slightly breathless. And looking sort of flustered. With your panties sticking to your pussy with how wet you are. But you’re still holding it together!

…Barely.

Squaring your shoulders, you walk out of the bathroom as if you’re going up to the frontlines of a war. Voices and clinking dishes subconsciously call for you from the dining room.

It feels a little weird to walk, your pussy practically dripping and making each step feel like another ride down the slip and slide between your legs. But you carry on nonetheless, ready to act as boring and normal as humanly possible.

The moment you round the corner, you spot an empty chair at the table and (more importantly) who’s beside it. Negan sits back in his seat, fingers curled loosely around a can of soda.

He’s laughing at something Lucille just said as she stands with a knife in hand. Whether he’s laughing because she’s actually funny or he’s fearing for his life, you can’t tell.

Even if Negan is a little affected by what happened five minutes ago, it doesn’t show. Not in the way his mouth curves lazily around the rim of his can, or how he only glances your way without missing a beat.

You slide into the seat next to him, carefully letting your leg brush his under the table. Lucille gives you a slight look but you can’t tell if it’s because you sat next to her husband or if you look more flushed than you initially thought. Well, if she wanted the seat, she should’ve moved faster instead of just standing there. You snooze, you lose.

Your mother bustles in from the kitchen, wearing oven mitts and holding a tray that sends waves of warm sugariness through the room.

“Hot out of the oven,” she announces proudly, placing the cake in the center of the table “Chocolate, just like old times”.

Lucille lights up as she passes the knife, letting your mother do the honors. Once she’s sat down across from you both, she starts to gush “God, remember when you used to make this every weekend? I’ve been dreaming about this!”.

Your mom beams, already cutting thick slices while steam curls up from the soft centre. Your father’s voice calls faintly from the other room, a low rumble over the TV. “Pass on dessert! Game’s getting good!”. Typical.

Your mom rolls her eyes affectionately. “He’s glued to that couch,” she mutters, placing a plate in front of you.

You thank her, then glance sidelong at Negan. He finally meets your eye. Just for a second. You get no smile. No words. Just that look. That quiet, smoldering acknowledgment of what no one else knows. You lower your gaze and pick up your fork.

The cake is warm and melts on Negan’s tongue. Still, it’s not the sweetest thing he’s wanted to taste tonight.

He chews like it‘s delicious, nods appreciatively at your mother’s proud smile as she tells them about how she found the recipe somewhere. Negan isn’t sure where though, he was too busy thinking about your pussy when your mom said that part of the story.

He doesn’t look at you much. Negan knows it’s ridiculous but he’s sure Lucille can smell it off of him. The lies. Deception. She’s like a goddamn cadaver dog when she picks up the scent of something being awry.

Every now and then, he risks a glance your way, just to see the way your lips part around the fork in a way he knows all too well. He clears his throat and takes another sip of his drink, hoping the fizz will ground him. It doesn’t.

As delusional as it sounds, Negan was hoping to fuck you again. Now he sees that was just a wet dream. You both had your moment in the sun, where you turned his world upside down and gagged around him like there’s no tomorrow.

He shifts in his seat, trying to play it off his own dirty thoughts. He adds a lazy comment to the conversation, a dry “Mmhmm,” and “Yeah, taste’s great”. Lucille nods along and Negan hopes he’s doing enough to convince her he’s listening.

But no matter how much he tries, his mind isn’t on the cake. It’s on the bathroom and on what he didn’t get enough of.

Lucille dabs the corner of her mouth and launches into a story from years ago. Negan nods at the right moments, even chuckles once or twice. But under the table, his hand edges across to your soft thigh.

His fingers splay out and spread across your thigh possessively. You shove a piece of cake into your mouth to stop yourself from smirking. You may have it bad for Negan, but it certainly feels like he can’t get enough of you either.

Trying to act natural, you slowly open your thighs under the table. It’s difficult to look bored above the table, while below you're trying to angle your body in such a position that gives Negan access to everything.

His thumb draws circles on your inner thigh, inching closer to what he really wants. He keeps his focus on your mom, conversing normally as his hand inches dangerously close to your panties.

Nodding your head, you add “Yeah, I remember hearing about that”. Although neither your mother or Lucille directly acknowledge your participation, already jumping to some other old memory.

Negan acknowledges you though, under the table. His middle finger nudges its way around your damp panties and smoothly slides down your folds. You eat your cake casually, lowering your head so neither woman will see the pleasure in your expression.

Like a man on a mission, the finger glides through your obvious wetness until it reaches your entrance. The finger teases your hole, pressing gently before slowly sliding inside. He enters you effortlessly, your wet pussy eagerly greeting him. His finger curls slightly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

Both of you look like the definition of calm, neither one of you letting on what’s happening. Negan keeps his arm low, making sure all the action occurs below the table cloth so that the others can’t tell his arm is angling towards you.

His finger moves with agonizing slowness, barely withdrawing before pushing back in deeper each time. He's not fingering you aggressively or quickly like he might if you were alone; instead, he's drawing out each stroke deliberately slow and shallow to torture you silently.

He snaps you out of your quiet tranquility with a compliment. "I have to say, this cake is fucking amazing,” he looks directly at your mother, a wide grin on his face as if he doesn’t have his finger in her daughter.

She waves away his compliments before Lucille steals her attention “You’ll have to give me the recipe”. It acts as the perfect distraction for Negan to add another finger inside you, stretching you out.

“Anyways, dinner has been great but we should really get going soon” Lucille glances Negan’s way before showing off her sympathetic smile to your mom.

But your mom doesn’t catch the smile. Instead, her eyes land on you. Breathless with your mouth slightly agape. And worst of all… hardly eating your slice of cake!

"Are you feeling okay?" she asks concernedly.

Negan’s movements stifle but just for a second as you come up with a reply “Yeah— I think I’m just feeling a little flushed”.

His finger suddenly shifts upwards, finding your swollen clit and applying pressure. You have to fight to keep your breathing steady as pleasure shoots through you. Your eyes flutter briefly closed before you regain composure, trying not to squirm visibly in your seat.

Your core tightens with impending release. With aching thighs, you do the one thing your body is begging you not to. You move your legs away from Negan and abruptly stand up, nearly knocking your chair back. The movement forces Negan’s hand to fall away, loosely dropping to his side. Your skirt whooshes slightly but it looks as though that’s been caused by your abrupt movement and not Negan’s hand.

“Actually, I think I might lay down for a while,” you announce, eyes darting to each person “I don’t feel so good”.

Your mom simply nods, taking your excuse at face value. “Ok, I can save you some cake for later” she assures. Her eyes follow you out, giving Negan the perfect opportunity to bring his hand up to the table.

His fingers are coated with your wetness but before the others can notice, he uses his hand to pick up his last piece of cake on his plate and pop it into his mouth. He deliberately licks each finger, letting out an exaggerated groan of approval as you leave.

That asshole. Surely he wasn’t trying to make you cum. He knew you’d pull away in the end. That you’d be the one to disrupt your own pleasure. As if you had a choice.

You’re only in your bedroom a few minutes when you hear the goodbyes begin.

“We’ll have to do this again soon!”.

“Next time, I’ll make brownies!”.

“Just make sure the next time it’s not on the same day as the game, ok?”.

You’re not called to say goodbye. After all, you’re too ‘sick’ or ‘faint‘ or whatever excuse is most believable to your mother. With a huff, you flop on to your bed. Your panties are still sticking to you but now all you have is yourself to fix that problem. Rolling over on to your side, you mutter “Fucking asshole…”.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Lucille doesn’t start talking until they’re nearly home. Negan doesn’t press her. He can feel the weight of whatever she’s building up to and figures it’s only a matter of time before she lets it out.

“She looks at you weird”.

Negan makes a low sound in his throat. It’s not quite agreement, more like he’s trying to figure out where she’s going with this. He silently hopes the next name she mentions is your mom but of course, it’s your name that leaves her lips.

“It’s like she just… watches. Everything. But especially you” Lucille explains “You haven’t noticed that?”.

Negan raises an eyebrow. “So she’s the one doing all the watching but somehow you’re catching every second of it? Sounds like you’re doing a fair bit of eyeballing yourself”. He gives a short laugh, hoping to deflect her unease with a joke. It doesn’t work. She responds with a scoff, all sharp edges.

“I’m being serious”.

“Yeah and I am too,” he lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, eyes still on the road “so she’s not a chatterbox. Whatever”.

Lucille quietly stews for a few moments. Negan hopes he’s almost in the clear when he turns down onto their street, but peace is a fickle thing.

“I bet she’s got a thing for you.”

He rolls his eyes instinctively. “Nice to know you think I’ve still got universal appeal, honey,” he replies dryly as if it doesn’t stroke his ego.

He pulls into their driveway. Their little house, slightly run-down but comfortably familiar, greets him with its tilted porch steps and overgrown lawn. Never has crooked suburbia looked so inviting.

He tries to use Lucille’s next stewing period of silence to make his escape out of the car, swiftly turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Do you know the last time I went to theirs, she came back from her friend's place wearing your sweatshirt,” Lucille watches his movements pause at that revelation. “Wouldn’t know how she got that, would you?” she questions.

Negan looks to her, tongue running along the backs of his teeth as he thinks.

“I gave it to her as a souvenir after I fucked her, is that what you want to hear?” he shoots back “Jesus fucking Christ, Lucille, is this going to be it now? Is she the next woman I must be fucking?”.

It’s shitty, he knows. But Negan also knows the best form of defense is attack. Or, at least it’s always worked out for him that way.

Lucille physically shudders at the idea of that, her voice raising as she argues back “Well, you were definitely eye-fucking her tonight at the table. Right in front of me!”.

Negan snorts. “Before or after you tried to embarrass her in front of everyone?” his tone is sharper now “Because what you call eye-fucking, I call trying to make sure she didn’t burst into tears in the mashed potatoes.”

Negan hopes none of the neighbors are passing by. Even with the two of them still in the car, he’s sure anyone passing by would be able to hear their raised voices.

“You really think I didn’t just toss her that sweatshirt the last time they came over here for dinner? Maybe when I was showing her shit in the garage? That ever cross your mind?” His voice tightens as he adds, “Or was I fucking her in the back of the car then too, Lucille? You tell me since you apparently know everything”.

“You're twisting my words!” She argues “All I’m saying is she obviously has the hots for you and you being friendly will give her the wrong idea”.

To Negan, this feels like a win. A messy, backhanded one but still a win nonetheless. Lucille has shifted from accusing him directly to blaming it all on you, like she’s just trying to warn him of your supposed crush.

“Fuck, it’s like I can’t even talk to you anymore,” Lucille mutters, rubbing a hand down her face, not caring whether it smears her makeup.

“Not without accusing me of fucking somebody” Negan jabs back.

That’s enough for Lucille, undoing her seatbelt carelessly and kicking open the car door.

Ding!

Negan feels his balls tighten when his phone dings with a message. But if his balls are telling him one thing, it’s to lean into the mess.

“Want to check that?” Negan pulls his phone out of his pocket, waggling it as Lucille gets out of the car “Could be her, maybe she’s sending me a nude”.

Lucille doesn’t dignify that with a response. Just slams the car door hard enough to rattle the windows and throws a middle finger over her shoulder as she storms towards the house.

Negan watches her go, expression flat. He knows he’s going to be in the shitter for the night but when he opens up the notification, he thinks it might be worth it. There to greet him is a text he assumes must be you.

“Got number from dad’s phone. Book that hotel room asap”.

#negan fanfiction #negan #twd negan #negan smith fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smith #negan twd #negan x you #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdm x reader #twd smut #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd fic #negan smith x you #negan smut #negan smith x female reader #negan the walking dead #negan smith smut

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friendship-is-photography · 5 months ago

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hello and welcome to this sweet little project! inspired by the wonderful posts by @adventureswithteddy and similar travel toy photography blogs, I wanted to share my beloved collection with all of you in a way that reignites a spark of the joy you experienced as a kid, creating stories and adventures within your play. I believe that as teenagers and adults, we shouldn't have to lose that joy! this blog is for everybody. there is no shame in having fun. thanks for visiting!

how do I find a certain kind of post? you can navigate this blog through tag searches. each post will be tagged with the name of the ponies featured, as well as the kind of location, e.g. beach, park, forest, garden... who runs this blog? hi! I'm robin, or rob. I'm a 19 year old ecology student, and I live in aotearoa. I love hiking and exploring the outdoors, and I also collect G3 ponies. I am autistic as you may have already guessed, and ponies bring me a lot of joy. I am also a freelance character designer! you can find my art over at @beastwhimsy. my main blog is @crabussy. you may or may not recognise me as the guy who made that ridiculously overfamous pasta sauce post. nice to meet you!

are you a professional photographer? my god no. I take photos with my sickly phone and pray that they come out looking okay. if the quality isn't great in some photos, I do apologise!! I do love taking photos as a hobby, however! I will try my best to make these photos look as nice as they can. [:

can I request certain ponies interacting? of course! I want this blog to be as fun as possible. if you think beach berry and desert palm would get along swimmingly (same!) please go ahead and send an ask! if you're lucky, they might just take a photo together to show you what a nice time they had!

what are their personalities and hobbies? you'll find out more with every new post!! if this blog gets popular, I might make another blog specifically for asking each of the ponies questions! I have specific personalities and likes/dislikes for each pony, but I don't want to reveal everything all at once in a big info post. I think it's more fun to get to know them as time goes on!

can I draw these silly horses? I would be forever in your debt. my firstborn? do you want my firstborn child? how about my undying loyalty? this would make my WEEK. my YEAR. my LIFE.

#my little pony #mlp #mlp g3 #generation 3 mlp #my little pony generation 3 #mlp toys #nostalgiacore #kidcore #agere #toys #pony #ponies #photo blog

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thisapplepielife · 2 months ago

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Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Somewhere Over the Rainbow event and my main card over at @steddiebingo.

he had a marvelous time ruining everything

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Modern AU || CCF Prompt: Green | Song: the last great american dynasty by Taylor Swift | Word Count: 2500 | Rating: T | CW: Previous Loss, Grief, Language | Relationship(s): Steddie, Platonic Stobin, Eddie & Corroded Coffin | Tags: Modern AU, Bisexual Widower Eddie, Bisexual Divorced Steve, Eddie Munson is a Menace, Annoying His Neighbors For Fun

and in a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green

His reputation precedes him. It always has, ever since he was a kid. Now, Eddie relishes ruining everything these uppity ups hold dear. He enjoys annoying the shit out of this small seaside town. Buying the old mansion on the water, fixing it up, and then painting it black. An eyesore in the middle of the other cookie cutter houses, all painted very appropriate shades of white.

Gareth named it The Frog Pot, declaring that he's sure Eddie's slowly boiling himself alive in that heat trap. Eddie has embraced the name. Ceramic frogs decorate the porch, the yard. The uglier the better. All the eccentricities he's ever had, growing worse with age. With boredom. With becoming a widower. She'd been the one to keep him grounded, and now he's untethered.

Mad Munson.

The Freak.

A Problem, with a capital P.

None of it is new, he's been called names since he was in grade school. Let them clutch their pearls, let them side step him on the beach, or downtown.

The fact that this uptight town thinks the men formerly known as Corroded Coffin are still something to be feared in their late forties delights him.

He's heard the gossip. That he killed his wife. That, no, he didn't kill her. Not directly, but it had to have been his fault her heart gave out so young. Just look at the way he acted. Lashing out like an animal, as flashbulbs blinded them on sidewalks. A has-been heathen, with his irrelevant model wife.

Lies always spread.

It must have been all that partying.

A coke problem.

An eating disorder.

All that jet-setting travel.

They don't know shit. She was sick, she was always sick, but never wanted to live like she was dying. So they didn't. Corroded Coffin came to its natural conclusion. Leave them wanting more, and all that. And Eddie went directly from being on the road with the band to traveling the world with her.

They went, went, went until she was gone, gone, gone.

Eddie left the city, headed for the shore, and made his grief everybody else's problem.

For two years, he's terrorized this small town, one annoyance at a time.

His friends descend on the beach house every month like clockwork, more often than they probably have time for. Eddie throws open all the windows, and they jam together long into the night. Not stopping until the cops have shown up on his doorstep. Corroded Coffin, reunited, live and in person once again, at least in his living room.

Gareth's got another band, on the road, still touring, still loving Di and his girls from afar.

Jeff and Goodie have their own shit going on, too. Maybe not music shit, but just as important. Yet, they all still manage to coordinate schedules to turn up at The Frog Pot.

Tonight, Eddie steps out on the porch to talk to the young rookies sent out to try and wrangle him. Not possible. If they don't arrest him, and they won't, because his money talks in this town. Eddie bought his bad behavior, fair and square. The asshole neighbor who definitely called in the noise complaint is standing on his porch wearing a shit-eating grin.

When Eddie makes eye contact, the asshole wiggles his fingers in a little wave, clearly pleased with himself.

Eddie flips off the smug bastard, and then strums a loud power chord on the guitar that's still strapped to his chest. The neighbor's wife ushers her husband back into their house, their yappy white Pomeranian at their heels. Eddie's point made.

He doesn't get how they can complain about him making noise, when they have a dog like that that barks all the fucking time. Hypocrites.

Eddie paces the beach at midnight. He can't sleep. Not anymore. A couple hours a night are the best he can hope for these days. He hates his empty bed, so he just avoids it all together. Sleeping as little as possible, mostly on the couch, or out in the hammock.

Unless Gareth's here. Then his body can be tricked into thinking they're young, on the road, sharing a motel bed.

"Shouldn't you be banging on all your pots and pans by now?" a voice calls out, and Eddie turns.

The asshole neighbor is tapping his watch smugly, "It's getting late. Better get a move on."

"I'm saving that until three. Make sure you leave your windows open for the show," Eddie taunts, standing ankle deep in the ocean.

"Where are all your loud friends?" he asks, his dog clearly wanting to keep moving down the beach. The leash pulled taut, even if the little rat of a thing can't budge his asshole of an owner an inch.

His friends went back home, to their lives, to their wives, to their families.

Eddie's alone again.

"It's just me tonight. Don't be too disappointed," Eddie says, and the yappy dog barks. The guy lets it boss him around, walking away, disappearing down the beach.

Eddie is out rearranging his frogs. Putting them into new and fun compromising positions. Making sure the ugliest ones are seen from the street. Wayne says he has more money than he has good sense.

Then, he's rudely being accosted. The yappy fucker from next door, jumping up on his thigh, trying to reach up to lick his face.

Eddie looks around. Nobody. No asshole. No asshole's wife.

He looks at its tag. The Boss.

Eddie laughs, of course.

Well, now he has an idea. He scoops up the dog, and carries it inside his house. The dumb thing has no idea it's been dognapped, and just happily goes along with him without any fuss.

"Eddie," Gareth says through the tinny cellphone mic. Watching from his phone screen thousands of miles away, helpless to stop Eddie's latest chaos. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Is it even safe? Don't you dare poison that dog."

Eddie laughs. Of course it's a good idea.

The dog has only been missing six hours and there's already a door-to-door canvassing effort, and a reward on all the light poles. It took that long for the same day delivery to arrive. He paid extra for a driver to bring it all the way out here from the posh pet store in the city. What's the point of having money if you aren't going to blow it on dumb shit?

"I'm not poisoning it. This stuff is specifically made for dogs. I'm not as crazy as you and this town think I am."

The neighbor is gonna shit when he sees his perfect little dog looking like he's auditioning for a dog production of Wicked. Or like it belongs in Eddie's garden, as one of the frogs.

Eddie rubs the green dye into the dog's coat, and laughs to himself.

The dog is pretty well-behaved, wagging its little butt, spinning, happy as can be. Unbothered by the new color. Thrilled with being pampered, even as Eddie uses the blow dryer to set the doggie dye.

It's clearly used to being groomed, and it might be the only being on this whole island that isn't judgmental of Eddie for being Eddie.

The Boss is alright.

Eddie takes the dog back home and sneakily ties it up on the porch.

Then he waits, watching from his house.

The wife sees the dog first, yelling for her husband.

Steve. His name is Steve.

Steve comes out onto the porch, and his face is fucking priceless.

It was goddamn worth it, even if he's expecting another visit from the cops before the night is over.

The doorbell rings, and right on time by Eddie's best guess. But by the time Eddie gets there, nobody is there. No cops. Nobody.

Just a new, and very ugly ceramic frog, with an obscenely wide open mouth. It looks tortured. It's not the standard green, no, it's more colorful, making it look poisonous. This might be a threat. Eddie loves it. It's holding down a note:

Well played. Robin wants to know the brand of the dog dye and where you got it. Damn you all to hell. — S.

There's also a Polaroid photo of Steve in his easy chair, the newly dyed key lime green dog settled on his lap.

Eddie laughs, putting the frog on the top step, a new centerpiece of his collection. Then, he puts the picture up on his fridge. Proud of his artistic handiwork.

He can do better than telling her the brand. He pulls out his laptop, goes back to the site of the store he originally ordered from, and overnights a box full of the doggie dye in every color to his next door neighbors.

The next time he sees The Boss, he's got a freshly dyed rainbow coat, and Eddie grins. For being in a feud, he's been having a lot of fun going back and forth with them. Today, there's no Steve, only Robin, and she's walking right towards him.

"I thought your uptight husband would freak out. He hates my black house, I figured he'd hate my doggie dye job, too. I misjudged the situation," Eddie teases, and she laughs. The dog spins at Eddie's feet.

Robin laughs, "That's not my husband. Jesus." She points at herself, "Lesbian." Then at her house. "Dingus."

Eddie's gaydar must be broken from disuse. Damn.

"Bisexual," he says, pointing at himself. At least historically. Before decades with her, and her alone.

"Oh, just like Steve," she says, and Eddie's gonna need a minute to recalibrate. To replay a lot of the interactions he's had with Steve over the last couple years. Were they flirting?

No.

But — maybe?

Pulling each other's pigtails, definitely.

"After his second divorce a couple years ago, we picked out a house, and moved to the beach. The plan was for him to relax. You moved in a month later, and well, it's been an experience. Not really a relaxing one."

Eddie laughs, smiling wide. An experience might be the nicest thing he's ever been called.

But Eddie thinks he understands what's happened here. Two men, both grieving different losses, mad at the world, were thrust into each other's orbits at exactly the wrong time.

That's honestly too bad.

"I love the frog, thanks," he says, and she shakes her head.

"That was all Steve. We took a pottery class. That hideous thing is what he made. He thought he might need it to barter with you in the future. I guess that day came."

Eddie swallows, nodding. It did. He can't believe Steve made him a frog, while Eddie was annoying the shit out of them.

It's so ugly.

It's his favorite.

"I was thinking of repainting my house," he blurts out. He hadn't been thinking that until right this second. Maybe he should be a better neighbor. "You want in on that action? Two for one?"

She shakes her head, "I like the rainbow dog, but you're not painting my house. Yours looks like a sad goth dollhouse. A place fit for Wednesday Addams. Or Elvira."

Eddie fucking cackles. It is a sad goth dollhouse.

He doesn't want it to be. Not anymore.

Eddie looks up at his house, "What color should we paint it next?"

Robin thinks for a minute, then answers, "Pink. Definitely bright pink."

Eddie stares at it, and grins, "I'll order the paint. Well. The painters will order the paint. Pink it is."

And Robin laughs.

The crew is about halfway done painting the house, and Eddie sits out in the yard in a lawn chair, watching. It's gonna look like a Malibu Barbie Beach House.

Gareth, horrified as he watches through his phone, says no. It's the Pepto Bismol house.

He's not wrong, but Eddie doesn't have time to admit it, because he unceremoniously hangs up on Gareth when he sees Steve trudging across his own lawn, a chair in one hand, a small cooler in the other.

He unfolds it right next to Eddie, opening the cooler and pulling out a couple longnecks. Offering one to Eddie.

Eddie takes it.

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs and clinks his bottle against Eddie's, "Something like that."

They watch the paint go on together, then Steve looks over at him, "Wanna come over for dinner?"

"Definitely," Eddie says. "I'll bring the frog legs."

And the way Steve laughs, loud and real, sends a zing through Eddie's chest. He hasn't felt anything like it in so long, he holds his hand to his heart.

One Year Later

Steve's digging right next to him, helping Eddie put in a frog pond. For real frogs. Not just the ceramic ones. They should have gotten a permit. They didn't. Who's gonna call the cops on them? Steve?

Not with that shovel in his hand, a willing accomplice.

The pink house only lasted one fun summer before Eddie reverted it back to the original white, the only color now found on the aqua shutters and trim.

It looks nice. Like new beginnings.

It looks happier. He's happier.

She would have loved this house like this. And he misses her like crazy, still. Always, he hopes. He's never been ready to let her go.

And he hasn't.

But now, there's Steve. Proving happiness can sometimes come around twice in a lifetime.

The guys are visiting less and less. Every month, to every other, and now it's been nearly four since he's seen them all at the same time. He misses them, but he knows that their absence means they think he's pulled himself out the hole of despair he was wallowing in.

The Boss at their feet, lying in the shade, Eddie hugs Steve from behind, pressing his sweaty face into Steve's shoulder. Steve covers his hands with one of his own, taking a break, leaning on the shovel. The hole is dug. Now they need to line it, lay the rocks. Fill it.

Wait for some frogs to arrive.

They've pulled each other closer to center. Tasteless new money, and uptight old, meeting somewhere in the middle. Eddie's wild ideas being made a little more refined by Steve's influence.

Eddie kisses Steve's shoulder, and squeezes him tighter.

This is gonna stick, gonna last. Eddie can feel it in his bones. A continuation of his life story that was already damn good. This is extra. A bonus. A pleasant surprise. A new love.

Broken hearts can mend, can love again.

They're proof of that.

"The lily pads arrive tomorrow," Steve says.

"We've got work to do, then," Eddie answers. He doesn't mind doing work, not when it's with Steve.

Eddie has a ring burning a hole in his pocket. The third time will definitely be the charm for Steve, Eddie will make goddamn sure of it.

He bought it fast.

When you know, you know.

And Eddie knew.

Eddie has missed being her husband. Now, he wants to be Steve's.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Somewhere Over the Rainbow popup event!

And don't forget to head over to @steddiebingo!

Notes: I think Eddie's wife was Chrissy, but it's certainly open to interpretation.

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muniimyg · 2 years ago

Text

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

The library is your favourite place.

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better.

You won’t have it this time.

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter.

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!”

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him.

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming.

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy.

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion.

Hobi rolls his eyes at you.

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail.

He’s right.

You are dense.

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you.

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction.

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly.

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted.

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you.

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow…

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head.

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm.

If piss drunk, please return to ___.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back.

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi.

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans.

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out.

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number.

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks.

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook.

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you.

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance.

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch.

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!”

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god.

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone.

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well.

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out.

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.”

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath.

He doesn’t deny it.

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts.

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs.

You hit his chest.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.”

You shut up.

No words, no thoughts, no feelings.

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them.

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you.

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x yn #jungkook uni au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble series #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x yn

2K notes · View notes

missnxthingg · 11 months ago

Text

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - Once again, we have two parts! Hope you like this one as well and don't forget to go ready the first one ahead of this 🧡

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 1

yourusername

Red Bull Ring

yourusername Gooooood morning, Austria! I'll be pretending this is a sea of papaya, btw. Wish this bad boy good luck today 🧡

tagged: mclaren, landonorris

landonorris ***good boy! 😉

↪yourusername You don't fool anyone, babe ↪username1 preach, y/n

username2 Lando P1 at Red Bull's home. I'm so ready!

username3 Papaya dom coming!

mclaren Everybody is a papaya fan! 🧡

liked by the author

f1news

f1news It's DNF for Norris in Austria! The McLaren driver crashed with the owner of the house, Max Verstappen, in the Red Bull Ring and was taken out of the race. The RBR driver lost his leadership, but finished P5.

username1 Max Verstappen plays it DIRTY!

username2 I feel so so sorry for Lando. He didn't deserve this 😢

username3 i hope y/n takes good care of our boy

yourusername added to their stories

Caption: A very much needed home time for Mr Norris

landonorris

Silverstone

landonorris Back to Silvo with some family time ❤

tagged: adam_norris_pure_electric, yourusername

yourusername P1 in Ollie's heart 🧡

↪landonorris My love ❤

username1 Olivia content!!!!

↪username2 finally 😫 i missed them so much

username3 i just know lando spent the entire week with ollie bf silverstone

username4 we're all ready for your revenge arch 😈

landonorris

landonorris Silverstone I love you, so many incredible fans out there ❤️ Congrats on the win @.lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better and come get you next time

username1 Just the fact that Olivia dressed as Lando for Silverstone makes me so so happy!

↪username2 she's his biggest fan indeed! ↪username3 Olivia future WDC!

yourusername Always good to see you step on the podium at home 🧡 I'm so proud

↪username3 I love that no matter the result, Y/N is always there to support Lando ↪username4 She's his true biggest fan

yourusername

Mallorca, Spain

yourusername Spain, you are a dream! 🤍 Best summer break ever

tagged: landonorris

username1 THEY WENT ON A HOLIDAY TOGETHER?

username2 i'm considering this a hard launch, btw

↪username3 you always make it weird for them 🙄 clearly they are just best friends having fun together ↪username4 for real! people forget that he's literally her daughter's godfather ↪username5 doesn't mean they can't become a couple eventually btw

username6 good to see that lando is spending time with y/n and olivia ❤ he deserved some family time to recharge

oscarpiastri Enjoy summer break, guys!

↪yourusername Thanks, Osc! Love you ❤ Send love to Lily, btw

maxfewtrell Bring me next time

↪landonorris It's family only ↪yourusername Max is family, idiot

landonorris My girls ❤

↪yourusername Our boy ❤ ↪username7 Stooooop, I love you guys so much ↪username8 The cutest duo ever

landonorris

Mallorca, Spain

landonorris aug 24. sun & things ☀️ family, forever

tagged: yourusername

yourusername Best summer ever ❤ I love you my babies

username1 Stoooop they are the cutest little family, omg!

username2 Lando applying sunscreen to Ollie's face and they posing as a family is everything to me 😭

maxfewtrell That's what i'm talking about, mates ❤

yourusername Ollie says: "Hi, uncle Max. Come have dinner with us" maxfewtrell How can I deny this proposal?

username3 now can we please have a hard launch???

username4 uhmm don't think they are really together, though. lando has taken them on vacations before, it's not like something different happened username5 idk dude, they do seem a little closer after his win in miami and people saw them leaving the party together username6 you keep assuming things and it's very annoying

username7 I'm so ready for the next chapter of this story

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

288 notes · View notes

checkthescript · 1 month ago

Text

IT'S NOW TIME FOR OUR FEACHER PRESENTATION

Have you ever wanted to be a

on the BIG SCREEN!?

Well NOW IS YOUR CHANCE!

Ladies, germs, bacteria of all configurations! Listen closely, because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you DON'T want to miss! Now is your chance to step right up on the stage beside your favourite TV host, Mister "Ant" Tenna, LIVE on air!

Ask him questions! Give him a hug! Cover him in substances of unknown origin! (What? What???? NO????????? Mike, that wasn't part of the-)

BUT, you better ACT fast to claim your spot in the spotlight; slots are filling up quick! They're practically overflowing! (It's spilling everywhere! It's EVERYWHERE!)

What are you waiting for!? Come on over to the studio NOW! Join us for this history-making TV special that everyone is sure to remember... Forever! Come make YOUR appearance on everyone's favourite show, Mister Ant Tenna's...

Connected blogs: @sc-ramb-led — Ramb ask blog. @battytat — Mike ask blog. Main character Battat. Shamless Plug: @ask-jeandescole — Ask blog for Jean Descole from Professor Layton.

✨THE MOST HIGH-STAKES GAME SHOW YOU'LL EVER PLAY✨ It's much more fun, I must confess, when lives are on the line; Not mine of course, but Tenna, oh boy, now that'd be just fine. TENNA CURRENT STATS Status: OVERHEATED, UNCONSCIOUS, and COOLING DOWN HP: 5000/5500 AT: 13 DF: 4 Equipped: Glittery red heart sticker, singed crochet flower pin Height: 13 ft* Weight: 539 lbs / 38.5 stone / 245 kg Number of repairs to date: 1 Number of resets to date: 0 * Tenna can shrink and grow at will with a maximum height of 20 ft and a minimum of 1 inch.

Blog status: Pluey is in charge! 🕺🐈‍⬛ Magic Anon Effect: None. Number of RESETs: 0 Current Blog Mood Jam: I'm Still Standing // With A Little Help From My Friends // Everybody Loves Me

TAGS #feature presentation — Business as usual, progress in main story. #panic! in static! — Tenna's getting a little unhinged, be it fear, anger, or what have you. #out manic! — Tenna's freaking completely out. #don't you find it all romantic — People are swooning over Tenna or there are things related to romance. #mike's yappin — Interactions directed at the Mike crew. #battytat — Interactions directed specifically at Small Mike (Battat Mike). He has an ask blog of his own right here! @battytat #sc-ramb-led — Interactions directed at Ramb. Also, Ramb has an ask blog of his own right here! @sc-ramb-led #pippins parlour — Interactions directed at the Pippinses. #angel tag — Interactions with someone's OC named Angel. #friday tag — Interactions with someone's OC named Friday. #biscuit tag — Interactions with someone's OC named Biscuit. #engineer tag — Interactions with someone's Engineer character. #janitor tag — Interactions with someone's Janitor character. #star anon — Interactions with someone's character named Star Anon. #look at that mailbox — Spamton tag. #can't show that on live tv — An asker has sent in something suggestive. Straight up explicit material will not be posted. Do not send in explicit imagery or links. You will be blocked. #check the script — OOC posts. Will keep these to a minimum. #it's silly time! — Silly posts that aren't actually part of any story. If I can't have whimsy what is the point even supposed to be. Frequent fliers will get their own tags.

BLOG ACHIEVEMENTS 24/06/2025 — Tenna died in a horrible pipe bomb accident! 24/06/2025 — The blog reached 100 followers!! 25/06/2025 — Mister Ant Tenna is BACK, baby!!! 26/06/2025 — 100 posts achieved! 26/06/2025 — We have hit 100 asks in the box! YOWZA!! 07/07/2025 — Fainted from the sheer terror of spam emails.

Other Things to KEEP IN MIND: -The characters featured on this blog can die permanently! Be careful with them! Or don't. Your call. I won't make it easy for you, though! >:) -Tenna is the main character on this blog, sure, but you can send asks to the staff, too! I'm sure Ramb and the Mikes would love to talk to you as well. -Tenna will remember you if you give yourself an Anon signoff or ask him something off of Anon. If you want to have a positive relationship with Tenna, remember to keep all your misdeeds to Anon! -Tenna has an inventory! If you give him something he likes, he'll keep it! If his inventory is full or something is too big, it'll stay somewhere in the studio. -You're never bothering the admin! Send in as many asks as you want, feel free to like spam, etc—it's all fine with me. As long as you don't send the same thing over and over, it's all good with me. I'm very selective about private long-term roleplays, but if you're interested in one, feel free to PM me with an inquiry. Yume/selfship/x-reader flavour things are fine with me as long as everyone involved is an adult. I'm NOT groovy with pr×ship, dark, etc. As long as we understand each other in that way, everything should be fine. -Multiship. If you decide to have your OC pursue Tenna romantically, keep calm about other folks doing the same! He's not cheating on your OC. Use your imagination to make the others disappear. Please do NOT harass other folks interacting with this blog! I will have to block you if you do! -If a Major Blog-wide Plot Event is taking too long to progress, I'll progress it myself! No offense is meant towards the other folks in the roleplay, I just want to keep the story trucking along, especially if it's a situation that has disabled Tenna or other characters involved.

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iskandersmuts · 2 years ago

Text

Diplomat's Party

Male Reader x Yuna

Tags: Smut, Yuna Smut, Sex, Blowjob, Creampie

My first attempt. I will be thankful with some feedback with anything.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You see the man on the mirror. That’s you inside the bathroom talking to yourself for gaining courage. “You can do it.” You say. “You did this for the last year.” Finally, you hide again in one of the bathroom’s cabinets. One more time breathe in and breathe out. Is just matter of endure this feeling three more hours.

You leave the bathroom and start counting the hours. Right now is nine o’clock. You can leave freely this party at midnight. As your boss always says “Your job at parties is like being a Cinderella. You arrive show the best you have and before the worst parts of you appear you leave. Nobody wants to know how cool or shitty you are when you are bored or even worse drunk. So no one of you, the diplomats, can show that side. Remember we are representing a country.” He is right we can’t show some parts of ourselves.

But these parties are actually a pain in the ass. The most of the people are here for work. They are not resting. They are not having fun. They are trying to get some confidential information that will help their own interest or the interest of their countries. Is like an international convention of ass lickers, brownosers or whatever you call it. They gather together and start talking about nonsense: “Did you hear about that African president lecturing Macron about colonialism?” or “Did you see what this Bukele did with the cryptocurrency?” You just can’t say. “Of course, dumbass you know that every ass licker here read the same Foreign Affairs subscription that you read.” You just say whatever thing they also know “Yeah and it seems that IOSCO now has a project bill for cryptocurrency.” And then the questions start. “Do you have any notices on the votes of the draft resolution of the injunction… and blah blah” Just things that nobody cares about. Two years ago, you pleaded your boss to let you assist to this kind of events. And now is your third time a week in these events. You would prefer getting a massage with hot stones in your balls right now. But not everything is bad. In this field: the diplomacy. You must be really lucky to find a friend. And you were really lucky, your honest friend is Diego an Argentinian diplomat.

In this party at Lotte Hotel Diego does a sign asking you to leave the building and go to the yard. Both of you get outside and start talking.

“Dude, did you hear the big news?” Says Diego.

“Diego if is a diplomat thing I really don’t want to talk about that right now.” You say with your voice showing boredom.

“No is not that kind of thing. You know me. I don’t like to talk about that stuff too. Is about the party of tonight.”

“What? Someone find out about those two gay diplomats that are in a relationship?” You ask.

Diego laughs. “No not that. Something interesting. Korea has changed the main event of tonight!”

“That means that I’m not going to hear the fat lady singing AGAIN the fucking Madame Butterfly.” You say.

“Yes. And also, as they were looking for something new. Moon Jae In used his trick up his sleeve and contracted a kpop group.”

“WAIT WHAT? WHO? TELL ME!” You say almost shouting.

“Is a girl group. JYP…”

“Fucking Twice is coming? Oh my god! Really?”

“No not Twice a bit younger.”

“NMIXX? But they have few songs!” You say complaining.

“Not that younger.”

“ITZY? ARE YOU FUKING KIDDING ME?!”

“No. No. It’s for real. They are coming.”

You guessed correctly.

And now you are thinking: Finally, something good happened on these useless parties. And you are smiling in a weird way. You know is weird because Diego told you. And then you use your experience of these years to act the best you can. As a diplomat you can’t be a crazy fan even more as you are here actually “working”.

The girls finally arrive. All guests are invited to gather and enjoy the show. Itzy is on the scene they greet everybody. You notice that they are not cheerful as they are in concerts of world tours. They are trying to be mature. They start with “Dalla Dalla”. You resist the urge of fanchant with the song. When they end nobody claps. For the awkward situation they start immediately another song. It happens the same nobody claps or even cheers.

This situation reminds you the footage of Red Velvet presenting at North Korea. The public were all quiet. This was the same. These boring diplomats don’t celebrate anything. Yeji as the leader announces that they are going to perform the last song. “Cheshire”. You want to fanchant so bad. But you can’t. They nailed the last song; the others were good too. But in this song, you see that they are trying their best as is their last song and till now they didn’t get any response from the public. When the song ends you don’t resist the urge and you start clapping. The people around you look at you as a weirdo. But then Diego joins you and other Koreans too. Then everybody is forced to do it. You look at them. All the girls are smiling. You keep clapping and you stand up.

“That was nice, girls” you shout.

This time just some of the other guests joins. And the rest of them just look at you and the others as weirdos.

This moment was definitively the most memorable. Because you see the girls looking at the few ones clapping while smiling. They finally thank everybody and leave the scenario.

You start walking around the party just remembering the faces of the girls when they saw you clapping. Their expressions. They are shocked at first. They look at you and then start smiling. It was a rough night for them. But you did the night a little bit easier for them.

Now just some minutes till midnight. You made your job and you saw Itzy you deserve a fucking drink. So, you start walking towards the bar.

“Look that old geezer is trying to dance” Says someone.

You notice that this is the voice of a woman.

You laugh.

Someone appears in front of you looks you directly inside the eyes and says. “Are you laughing at us?”

You are caught off of guard. “No sorry I didn’t mean that. Is just that no one here uses that kind of word ‘old geezer’” You look at her face trying to know his name. “Omo. Sorry Chaeryeong-shi. I really didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

Chaeryeong looks at you. “Do you know my name? Finally, I thought nobody here knew who we are.” She pauses and continues. “And don’t worry I’m pretty sure that Ryujin-unnie doesn’t care if you laugh or not, right, unnie?”

“You are pretty damm right, Chae.” Says Ryujin. “Is just that the old geezer…” You start to laugh again while she continues. “looked really hilarious when he started dancing.”

You see that behind both, Ryujin and Chaeryeong, are the other members of the group. You are internally jumping so hard that maybe your head will hit the roof. But you try to keep your composure. “Nice to meet you all of you.” You look at your watch is just past midnight. Fuck it you are not “working” anymore. “I’m really a big fan of yours.”

The other girls gather around you when they see that you are talking with Ryujin. They stand up beside you. There it is Yuna with her scenary outfit.

While you are looking at her you try to avoid looking at her chest. Or at least pretend that you are not doing it. She is using baggy pants. You wanted to look her legs too. That’s too bad. But you are lucky enough to look her perfect flat belly. When she sees you, she just smiles at you. The other girls as Yuna are wearing also an scenary outfit all of them have a blue or sky blue piece. But Yuna is the one that caught your eye.

“You are not from here, right?” Asks Ryujin. Yeji gives a little slap on Ryujin’s arm. She is the leader indeed.

You are thinking. Thanks Ryujin. You saved me. I owe you one. It was getting weird because I was looking Yuna for too long.

“Yes yes. I’m not from here. I’m a diplomat assigned here at Korea, Ryujin-shi.”

“You are a diplomat?” Asks Lia. “I always thought that diplomats were old men.”

You answer. “Well the ones that appear on television they are. And maybe as they are the most known for the public you think that. But actually in my country if you do the right things. You can start as a diplomat at 23 years old.”

“Yeah you look kind of young. But here the most of them are old geezers.” Says Ryujin. You laugh. “I thought that the reason why nobody clapped was that they are old geezers. But maybe is because they do what you do.”

“Well. Yeah the most of the times the show is a snob thing. Like opera or traditional theather.”

Ryujin interrupts you. “What thing? What did you say?”

Yuna starts laughing. You answer Ryujin. “See your maknae here knows what I said. Yuna-shi would you mind explaining her?”

Yuna looks at you. Doubtful starts speaking. “Snob is like people that likes fancy things just because they want to be different. Right?” She looks at you.

You are melting. The eyes of your Itzy’s bias are looking right at you.

“Yeah�� Is just like that, Yuna-shi.” You answer. “The people here like that kind of things. Kind of unique or least popular. The people around here think that the things that they are discussing are the most important things ever. They are so full of themselves.”

“And… You are here... So, you too?” Asks Yuna looking you again.

You smile. “I hope I don’t. Maybe I would be just like them if I answer that. How about you discover if I’m like them.” You look at Yuna.

In your head you ran the entire place 10 times. You are flirting with Itzy’s Yuna. You are nervous as fuck.

“We’ll see. Then.” Answers Yuna and grins.

Yeji looked what happened. Actually, the whole girl group watched you flirting with their maknae. Yeji stands between you and Yuna and starts shaking your hand. “You are the one that clapped for us, right? Let me thank you for that. We’d like to stay around but we actually just came here for a personal matter. We are going to the bar. It looks like you are about to leave this party, right?”

Her words weren’t even smooth. You were clearly kicked out. “Is that true? I see. Well, thank you for greeting me.” You say trying to sound as polite as you can. “Well maybe I should go…”

What you were saying is interrupted by Yuna holding Yeji’s arms with her hands. She starts pouting. “Unnie, please.”

Yeji’s answer is silence pretending Yuna said nothing. Yuna starts pouting again. “Yeji unnie, please. Besides he is a Midzy, right?” Yuna looks at you.

“Yeah. As I said I’m a big fan.” You add.

When Yeji says nothing again. And you think this is lost. Yuna uses his final technique her little kitten face. He is pleading looking directly at Yeji. Just as Pussy in boots in Shrek. You don’t receive fully the little kitten face but you see it by the side.

Fuck. You are willing to give your house if she asks you doing that face. And you start wondering why the governments and international organizations spent so much money training people like you to end wars. When probably all they need is the Yuna’s little kitten face. Dam even if she asks Putin to end the war. Will he say no?

Yeji tries to avoid her face or maybe just look at the others trying to find an answer. Ryujin just shrugs like saying I don’t care. Lia and Chaeryeong that were looking Yuna’s little kitten face just nod. Yeji sighs and says. “Fine. He can come.”

“Yaaaaaay” says Yuna. She takes your arm and pulls you to start moving. Then she releases so you can follow them.

That expression that she just used was the bubbliest yet the most attractive you’ve ever seen. And she touched you. You can die right now. You start walking behind them. You just can’t help and you take a peek at their asses. Ryujin has a really bubbly ass. Chaeryeong has the largest one and seems like is not that soft because has muscles around. Lia has the softest one like you can sleep there. Yeji has a cute butt. And finally, Yuna has a bubbly cute ass. She is using baggy pants but her butt can be noticed trough them.

While walking Yuna turns lightly her head to you to ask you. “Hey Mr. Diplomat how old… are you?” She paused because she noticed you looking her ass. You were caught in fraganti so you just looked at her and smile. “Well mmmmm… I’m actually 25 years old. International age I mean.”

After you answer Yuna says something to Yeji. Yeji also turns her head to you. Look at you and nods to Yuna.

All of you finally arrive at the bar. Ryujin asks for champagne for everybody including you. She didn’t ask any of you. She just ordered. Yeji slaps her arm. “Ryujin yaaa. Why do you always do that?”

Ryujin answers. “It doesn’t matter. All of us were going to drink that anyway. Right?”

You see around and everybody is nodding. It seems that the dominant Ryujin you see trough tv screen is actually a dominant Ryujin in real life.

“Let’s make a toast. Raise your glasses” Says Yeji. And by looking at the girls and you she is ordering you to do it. Everybody raises their glasses. “Our schedule didn’t let us to celebrate properly the birthday of our beloved maknae. Yuna we all love you.” At the end of this sentence. You start nodding hard. Yeji got quiet and looks at you. All the girls look at you too and then laugh. You blush. “Anyway…” Yeji continues. “Apparently everyone gathered here LOVES you Yuna. Happy Birthday.”

The girls take turns to hug Yuna. First Yeji, then Ryujin. You notice that everyone gets closer and say a few words in Yuna’s ear. When is your turn you gather all the courage in your body and swallow the nervousness and try to look cool. You hug her and whisper in her ear. “Is true indeed that everybody here loves you. Happy birthday. I wish you have a good time tonight.” She grins and whispers in your ear. “Well, you can help me to have a good time tonight.”

Shit. You think. I felt her chest during that hug. And now she says this I really can’t control my excitement.

And actually, you got hard down there. While you were hoping she didn’t notice it the hug ends and she looks down like looking for something.

It seems like she felt it.

Then the girls sited around the bar and ordered drinks. You took place beneath Yuna. She leaned on you.

“Oppa…” She says and you got surprised.

“Oppa?” You ask inmediately interrupting her.

“Yes you are older than me you are my oppa, right?” She questioned.

“Well yeah I can be your oppa if you want.”

“Nice. I want to ask you something. Can i?”

“Okay. But if is something that I can’t say because of my work please don’t use your little kitten face against me. I will give in and next thing will be that I’m fired.”

She laughs. “My what?”

“Ah I named your pleading face to Yeji-shi before as ‘little kitten face’”

“Because of Shrek?” She asks.

She gets me.

“Yeah. I just love that movie. But continue. Go ahead”

She continues “Anyway I’m not going to ask you something difficult, oppa. I just want to know what should I drink? I don’t have too much experience with that.”

“You are 19 now, right? What have you drinked before? and what did you like or not?”

“Well obviously soju. At first, I didn’t like it. But then I was into that. But tonight, I want something fancier.”

“You are lucky. As this is diplomat’s party. I think this bar has international beverage too. Have you heard about pisco?”

“What?! What is that?”

“Is alcohol is made from grapes: the green ones. And well is nice when you drink it with lemon and other stuff. The beverage is called pisco sour.”

“Well why not. Today I’m celebrating my birthday. If I pretend today is my birthday. This is my first time having 20 years. So today is the day of first times!”

“That’s the attitude!”

“Two pisco sours, please.” You ask to the bartender.

The bartender hands you two glasses. And you hand one to Yuna.

She sips. “This is like lemonade, right? Just at the end I can taste some alcohol. Is not that strong.”

You nod. “So did you like it?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Answers, Yuna.

A couple of glasses later you and Yuna are talking.

“You know what?” You start “I think diplomat’s life and idol’s life have something in common.”

“Why do you think that?” Asks Yuna.

“Well, your life is kind of controlled by someone: your company. In my case the embassy. I’m living here in this country just to work. And also, our opinions can’t be radical. Do you remember that time where Tzuyu waved her flag? The… Taiwanese flag?” Yuna nods. You continue “She apologized then. That means that no idol can give political opinions, right? Well, I can’t neither. I can’t say Taiwan is a country or say what I think about any president or government out loud.”

“Well… Yeah, It makes sense. So, you can’t hang out at parties too?”

You are so into this subject. “Well, if something happens like a drunk fight or something like that. I’m fucked up. Because in the headline will appear ‘The diplomat of this country got drunk and…’”

Suddenly Ryujin hugs you from behind and asks you. “Hey, since when Yuna is your bias? Have you fapped to her photos?”

You blush and start stuttering. “I-I-I D-d-d-didn’t do that!”

Ryujin laughs. “Mr. diplomat knows how to be cute!” She pinches your cheek. Then she says looking at Yuna. “Hey if you don’t achieve nothing with him. I’ll ask his number.”

Yuna hit Ryujin’s arms. “Ryujin-yaaaaa.”

You look at Yuna. “Achieve something?” You ask.

Yuna blushes a little bit. “Well did you remember before when we were walking to the bar? When you were… mmmm… looking my ass?”

You almost spit the pisco sour. Ryujin laughs. “It seems like Mr. Diplomat likes to stare asses. Did you peak mine too?”

Fuck Ryujin is so straight when she talks. This can’t be a mess. You must apologize. You think.

“Ammm… I do. Sorry.” You apologize.

“So who has the best one?” Ryujin asks you.

This brat knows how to make you nervous.

“Y-y-y-yuna” You answer stuttering.

“Well, I give up, Yuna. Mr. Diplomat is in love with you. I don’t get him. Everybody’s favorite is my ass or Chae. I’m leaving it to you.” Ryujin says while walks out to join the other members.

“Really?” Asks Yuna looking at you.

“Yeah. You are my favorite in everything! My ultimate bias.” You shout.

Fuck. It seems I’m really drunk.

Yuna stares at you and doesn’t say anything.

You blew up. She probably isn’t looking for a fanboy. You shouldn’t have drunk too much.

But she caught your arm and walks with you. You just follow her. “What happened, Yuna?” You ask.

She looks at you and keeps walking. “Today is the day of first times.”

She is leading you to the bathroom. She enters and locks the door.

You are in disguise. What to do now is pretty obvious but is Yuna so you are doubtful.

Before you decide anything Yuna kisses you.

Fuck. Is the best kiss you ever had. So this is how it feels when you kiss someone you really really like. Is like an explosion. Like there was nothing and then a big bang.

The kiss breaks. “Did you like it?” Asks Yuna.

You don’t answer just kiss her again. The sensation is something different. Like you can be here forever. But the night was just starting.

Yuna starts touching your back while kissing you. Then your chest. Your neck. She stops. “You don’t want to touch me?” She looks directly in your eyes.

“No, no. Is not that. Is just I didn’t want to ruin the kiss.” You say.

“Oppa. You know what are we doing next, right? I know you are not so innocent!” She says. And starts kissing you again.

Now you touch her. Her neck, her back you go down. Her delicious ass is being groped by your hands. You lean her closer to you by pressing her butt.

You start kissing her neck. “Yuna. You are so beautiful and cute. Your mouth, your face, your ass.” You press your hands in her butt harder. She just moans “Mmmmmm….” But then she speaks. “I can feel your dick poking my abs. Just like before when you hugged me.”

You press her butt stronger. So, she can feel it more. Then you lift her up by grabbing her legs and kiss her neck again. “Mmm… I want to see your tits, Yuna.” While being in the air she manages to take off her blouse. You see her lingerie and anxiously you start kissing around her tits. While she is trying to untie her bra. Finally, you receive in your view her heavenly boobs. Her nipples are totally pink and are like inviting you to suck them.

This is the best feast I’ve ever had.

You kiss and lick her tits while the only response from Yuna is “Mmmm.” When you left her legs touch the ground, she kisses you again and she kisses your neck this time. Now she is trying to get your formal shirt off. You start undressing yourself. She kisses your neck and starts going down till she is in front of your crotch. She is in her knees.

“Mmmm… I want to know if you are a big fan as you said.” She touches your crotch. And starts undressing your pants. Then she just puts down your boxers.

Your dick is hard as never was. When she puts down your boxers your cock jump off and slaps Yuna’s face. She looks at you and then stares your cock.

“It looks that you were right. You are the biggest”

Then she starts stroking. You just moan.

“I thought you said it was first times’ day.”

“Yes oppa. This is my first time with a foreign guy and my first time sucking cock big like yours”

She starts licking the tip of your cock.

“Oppa I’m starting to doubt if this can fit in my mouth.”

“Let’s find out.” You say. She nods and starts putting it in her mouth.

First the tip and then she tries to push deeper. Her mouth is full but there is plenty of dick left. She starts moving. You can’t deny that you had better heads before. But… She looks at you while sucking you. Then you are aware again that the one sucking you off is Itzy’s Yuna. So, you start to feel better. Fuck you could say that you are even about to cum. You caught her head with your hands and start pushing.

“Fuck Yuna. I can feel your throat!”

She just says “Mmmm mmmm” as she can’t talk.

“I’m going to cum. Fuck. Fuck.”

You start cumming and you relax the grip on her head. And she frees. Some of the cum goes in her face.

“Mmmm… You are rough, oppa. I like that.” She picks some toilet paper of the bathroom to clean her face. “But you know what this is only starting. I want that big thing inside me now.”

She starts unbuckling her pants and puts it down and also her underwear at the same time. She has a shaved cute pussy and is already wet.

“Oppa, fuck me.” She says and then she bends and you have a total view of her ass. That beloved ass.

“You want me to fuck you?” You spank her.

“Aah. Yes, oppa. Fuck me with your cock!”

You grin and start to play with your dick around her pussy. “Oppa, just fuck me already!” She says.

You put your cock inside her. And you feel tightness. You haven’t feel something like this before. “Yuna you are so tight!” You say. And try to go deeper. “Fuck Yuna really I’m not lying you are too tight!”

“Mmmm… No oppa is just that you are too big. Just keep going. Mmmm…”

You start going deeper in a slow pace. Finally, you get to get your full dick inside. Yuna is moaning already. “Yuna, prepare yourself”

“Whaaaaaaa… aaah… mmm… mmm” She starts moaning. You are slamming her in a rapid pace. And then she says “Cumming aaaah” You don’t slow down. And then she shouts again moaning again but this time her legs start to shake. But you don’t slow down.

Fuck you’ d love to see Yuna’s cumming face. But right now in exchange you have a full view of her cute butt and her pussy while your cock enters and disappears. She is moaning so hard.

“Aaaaah… Oppa. I love how you fuck me. You are really deep into me.” She says.

And is true is almost like your tip is kissing her womb. This tightness is almost like her walls are never letting you go. Like their insides are sucking you up. Is this heaven? The pleasure right now is out of this world.

While dreaming off, it happens you cum inside her. Fuck you really fast up the pace because now you are out of breath. Yuna stands up looks at you smiles and kisses you. “That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. And really orgasms because it happened multiple times” Yuna says. “You are special and fuck you cummed so much”. At the moment white liquid starts to drip from her crotch.

Suddenly the door sounds. There are lots of knock knock and then a voice: “Yuna we need to leave now. They found out about the manager bribed. We will be waiting for you on the car outside.”

You look to Yuna. And she starts explaining. “Have you heard anytime about Itzy joining a party where they were having a show. Or have happened ever that the last entertainment show joins the party in your diplomat events?”

“Well… Being honest I never heard of that. And that never happened. I don’t remember that the fat lady singer ever joined the party after her show.”

“Yeah. That’s what’s normal. But we bribed our manager to tell JYP we were already at the dorm and we sneaked into the party.”

“So you weren’t invited to the party? And wait did you lie to Jyp?” You ask.

While this conversation was made Yuna started dressing up. As you see it you start looking for your clothes too.

Yuna answers “Yeah, that’s why we were just in the bar. I mean we didn’t want to catch too much attention. And also, we were with our stage clothes if we were invited, we probably were wearing some fancy dresses or something like that. And yeah, we lied to Jyp. He is nice but sometimes he is just a pain in the ass. You know if it was for him, I’ll be virgin even now.”

“Well yeah if you had gone to the main saloon, you probably had caught more attention. Then I must be really thankful for that bribe because if that wasn’t happened, this wasn’t happened.”

“Yes, oppa. And also, is thanks to Yeji. When you looked my ass, I was asking Yeji if I can be with you and she nodded. But sadly, I must say bye now. I really want to have another meeting with you and that big thing of yours.” She kisses you and continues. “and maybe we can try other things. You know Ryujin says that anal sex is way better than normal sex. But I don’t know maybe I need to experience it by first hand.” She hands you a piece of paper.

“Is your number?” You ask like pleading.

“Aww you can be a cutie pie too. Yes, it is. I must be going. Is better if I leave alone. Wait inside here and after a couple minutes leave. Ok?” She says.

“Yes. I’ll be expecting our next meeting.”

“Me too.” She kisses you and then leaves the bathroom.

That actually happened. You think. I had sex with my ultimate bias.

And now you remember all the things the view of her precious ass. Her eyes while she was sucking you off. The taste of her lips. Her essence. Her ass in your palms. Her surprised eyes when she saw your cock. The sensation of his tongue in your cock and her throat.

The sound of your phone wakes you up. Some text messages.

“Hey Oppa is Yuna. It seems like you weren’t the only diplomat getting fun. Ryujin also had fun with an argentinian diplomat. And he knows you, so the girls and I got his number and yours. Let’s have another meeting soon”

You smile. What is even better that you fucking your bias from Itzy is that your friend could do it too and maybe he even had anal sex with Ryujin. It seems that this kind of parties are not so bad.

#smut #yuna smut #male reader #itzy smut #kpop smut #kpop x male reader

1K notes · View notes

mikuchan · 3 months ago

Note

Fandom theory:

Most fans do not like engaging with female characters because, deep down, they haven't worked on a bias they hold in favour of male characters and against female characters. Some even view them as competition. They view female characters as obstacles and people in the way of their ships instead of their actual characters, or even what they could have been. It is why they often disengage, hate, or flanderise female characters.

It is also why they are able to see the potential of male side characters who appear for few scenes and second, but treat canon, main female interests or deurogatonists as if they never existsed or like the worst female characters to ever exist. They build such a negative rapport of them and make it seem as if they were a big villain (news flash: they are traumatised individual).

This got long, so I'm putting it beneath a read more.

disclaimer that this is all lay opinions

deep down, they haven't worked on a bias they hold in favour of male characters and against female characters.

yes, for sure. I mean, the other options are either that the majority of media does just have awful/boring/flat women characters, or that women are just innately awful/boring/flat, and neither of those are true. In some media franchises, maybe accurate. But as a large-scale pattern?? Come on.

Some even view them as competition.

Yes. Fandom is very ship-heavy, and there is a tendency to sideline any potentially romantic competition (whether to enable a m/m pairing or to ship an OC). Ye olde Supernatural fandom was a biiig example of this lol, BBC Sherlock too. This line of thought opens up a whole other can of worms, of course, because that alone shouldn't automatically favor men -- every source but one* that I could find showed that while fandom is predominantly women, it's not predominantly straight women. We should be shipping everybody with everybody, by all rights, but every fandom-popularity metric (AO3 stats, Tumblr year in review, literally just scrolling through tags) does not reflect that at all.

(And honestly, even if it was all straight women in fandom, the whole 'it's all straight women, of course they'll focus on hot guys' excuse still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Media and culture popular with straight men isn't often about women; not from the top and not from the audience. Men, on a societal level, are expected to read and think and play games and write about men; and they do. Consider stereotypical nerd culture -- a comic convention, a game store, an early D&D campaign -- and, yeah, female characters like Lara Croft and Catwoman were there, but by and large it was men interacting with men about men. So it feels gross when that's tossed out as an explanation, as if it's reasonable for women-heavy spaces to also revolve around men and only men.)

It's not a one note issue, though, and I don't think it's all shipping. Again, lay opinions, but I've seen a lot of rhetoric basically saying: male characters are more fun to interact and play with because they offer a sense of space, and with that, emotional safety. Bodies/body shape, emotions (and how others perceive yours), relationship dynamics, pregnancy and families...topics that can feel very loaded when applied to a woman can become more manageable when packaged in a (cis/conventional) male character.

I do think Astarion was a shoe-in for Tumblr Sexyman anyway, but his themes of being trapped and abused clearly resonate with people, too. It's not all shallow. And while Shadowheart (and Karlach, and Minthara, and others) offers very similar themes, and a similar sense of catharsis when she stands up to her abuser...she's also a woman. Maybe she hits too close to home. Maybe you can't stop comparing yourself to her (which, as a woman, you've been trained to do basically since birth. I struggle with this a lot tbh, it is hard). Maybe she presses on whatever biases and issues you have inside. Whatever the reason, it's easier for some people to work through issues via a masculine or male character and sidestep those other issues.

So like, in that sense, I don't blame people for saying if I pay attention to Orin as well then I might think about why I like her less than Gortash, and then I might realize it's because I am unhappy with myself, or because I dislike my status as a woman in society for x reason, and that hurts and it's hard. fuck this, I want to sympathize with Gortash only. I'm not here to hurt and do hard work, I want to reblog cool art and write drama. but like ! this still sucks. It's a reasonable reason, but not exactly a good one. It's just capping the lid and saying mm, not dealing with that.

And I want to make very clear that I'm not saying girls should only care about girl characters because we have super special girly issues that can only be solved by writing fanfics about Minthara not Halsin because Halsin is a yucky boy. I'm trying to say: many women hold other women, including themselves and fictional characters, to unfair standards, or hold internal prejudice against them for sexist reasons, and turn to male characters for safe catharsis instead. This is understandable, but not healthy.

(Or they see any/all women characters as a Threat to their Hawke's adoration of Anders. Similar bias but less understandable/sympathetic, super annoying.)

*and that study is from 2008 (older than some tumblr users now) with only 3400 participants; we can contrast this information with centrelumina's much larger and more recent survey.

#asks #long #mine

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babymetaldoll · 10 months ago

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"Spencer Reid, inked" (Spencer Reid x tattoo artist!reader!)

Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @aperrywilliams and I are hosting during October.

Event Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Summary: Spencer gets his first tattoo

Word count: 1.978

Warnings: None

I hated feeling like a cliché. But I was, at least at the moment. That’s what everybody would say if they knew I was going through a middle-age crisis. There was no other way to call it. I was well aware of the symptoms. I was already forty, single, reconsidering my job options and looking for a new career after almost twenty years working for the FBI.

And the worst symptoms of them all: I was about to get my first tattoo.

Yes, me. Spencer Walter Reid, germaphobe.

It hadn’t been an easy decision. God, it hadn’t been an easy year. Everything seemed so useless and pointless at a certain moment like I had wasted so much time overthinking, overanalyzing, over… everything. And I had forgotten one simple thing: living.

So now at forty years old, I want to start living. And one thing I always imagined I would do but never really thought I could do was get a tattoo.

Garcia recommended a shop in town. She is the only one who knows I’m planning to do this because a part of me is very embarrassed to share my crisis with my friends. I know they wouldn’t make fun of me, but it’s not something I wanna bring up in any conversation, except for Pen. She is one of my closest friends and I know she would never judge me, or make fun of my insecurities. Actually, when I told her my plans, she even asked if I wanted her to tag along and support me.

- “Thank you, Garcia. But I think this is something I wanna do alone.”

- “I get it, boy genius. Just know that I will be a phone call away in case you need me.”

The tattoo shop she recommended isn’t very busy when I walk in, and a little belle announces my arrival.

- “Hey! Do you have an appointment?”- a guy asks from the desk and I hesitantly walk over. I’m starting to second-guess this whole plan. Me? Getting a tattoo? Really?

- “Hi, yes. I talked with (Y/N) on the phone.”

- “(Y/N)!”- the guy yells- “Your eleven am is here!”

- “I’ll be right there!”

Garcia said this girl is the best tattoo artist she knows and that she is very soft and gentle, which is exactly what I think I need if I’m getting my first tattoo. Right, I don’t even know what I wanna get. I think I should have thought about that before booking this appointment. Maybe I’m gonna waste this woman’s time today and she will do a bad tattoo as revenge. I should probably just leave.

- “Hey! Spencer, right?”- I hear my name and turn around. But no words come out of my lips ‘cos I was sure I was leaving a second ago, but now… now I should really start talking.

- “Yes, I’m Spencer. Hi!”- I wave awkwardly as she stares at me with a big smile.

- “Nice to meet you, can I get you anything? Coffee? water?”

- “Thank you, I’m good.”- she walks over to a couch and invites me to sit with her. Garcia didn’t mention the tattoo artist she recommended me was so beautiful and I’m feeling more nervous now than I was when I first got here. And I was considerably nervous a few minutes ago already.

- “Tell me, why is it that you decided to get a tattoo?”- she looks at me, waiting for an answer, and all I can give her is the truth.

- “I never considered getting a tattoo until a few days ago. You could call it a middle-aged crisis.”- I chuckle and she smiles at me, which somehow helps me feel calmer.

- “I don’t think I ever considered it before, but now somehow, it just makes sense.”

- “I don’t consider any crisis a bad thing. Each one is like a reality check that we should pay attention to. I think it’s a way life has to keep us on track of what we should be doing instead of what we think we should do. Does that make any sense?”

I nod and smile at her reply ‘cos it’s a beautiful way to look at a crisis. When you are uncomfortable, you should pay attention and make the changes you need to make. Maybe a tattoo won’t change my life, but it feels like a way to become the man I want to be instead of who I thought I should be.

- “And do you have an idea of what you want to be your first tattoo?

- “Uh. Not really”- I look at my hands, embarrassed to deal with my honest truth. But she just chuckles and continues asking.

- “Not a single idea? There must be something revolving in that mind.”- I raise my eyes and meet hers, and I know I’m blushing, which is embarrassing.- “What do you like?”

- “I like books”- my nerdy answer makes her eyes shine. Maybe she likes reading as well.

- “A favorite one?”

- “War and Peace”

- “A Tolstoi fan, I think I can work on that. Sounds good?”- I nod, smiling.

- “Yeah. Definitely.”

- “Great! So give me a few minutes to draw a few options. Where do you want your tattoo?”

- “I was thinking in my forearm.”

- “Great choice! That area is low on nerve endings and bone, so it'll be less painful than other areas with thinner skin.”- she looks so excited to share that info I don’t wanna tell her I already knew it, and that is the reason I chose that placement.

- “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to drink while you wait?”- (Y/N) stands up and looks at me expectantly.

- “I’m good, thank you.”

- “Ok, wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”

- “Ok Spencer. Ready?”- I’m sitting on (Y/N) chair. My arm rests on a clean sterile bench covered in plastic. She took the time to clean everything in front of me, probably to assure me everything was taken care of before a needle was in sight.

- “Ready.”- I reply and take a deep breath, trying not to move. But most of all, trying not to shake.

- “I’m gonna make a short line first, so you can feel how the pain is, ok?”- I just nod and she smiles one more time. - “Stay still.”

My eyes are glued to her hands as she carefully traces a small line on my arm and as soon as she is done, she looks at me, expectantly.

- “How did that feel?”

- “It was good”- I answer and look at the line, now drawn forever on my skin.

- “Not as painful as you imagined?”

- “Not painful at all”

- “Great! Let's continue then.”

I find the process of getting a tattoo relaxing, somehow. Here I am, unable to move for a very long time, forced to talk with a stranger. A beautiful stranger that is, in fact, the nicest woman I’ve met. And though none of that could ever be relaxing to me, she is so good at small talk, she is making me talk the entire time, not overthinking anything.

- “So, you’ve been with the FBI for over fifteen years?”

- “Basically my entire life.”

- “Did you always envision yourself being a Fed?”

I don’t know if I wanna answer that. Mostly, I don’t know how to deal with that subject at the moment. So I clear my cough and she gets it right away.

- “We don’t have to talk about that. You could tell me what is it about War and Peace that gets you so much.”

- “I don’t know. Honestly, I haven’t read a book I didn’t like. Never.”

- “And I have the feeling you read a lot.”

She never looks at me, her eyes are always on my arm as she draws on my skin. But I look at her, analyzing her features and the way her eyebrows are constantly frowning in concentration.

- “Why?”

- “‘Cause books were the first thing that came to your mind when I asked you what you like.”- she answers and chuckles.- “You have no idea what people answer to that question.”

- “Surprise me. What’s the weirdest answer you’ve gotten?”- she smiles as she gives the question a little thinking.

- “I don’t wanna judge! I mean, we all have different lives and tastes and picks… and we have been touched by different things in life… However, it’s always weird when people tell me their favorite thing in the whole world is Homer Simpson.”

I try not to burst out laughing, but it’s nearly impossible. (Y/N) takes the needle just in time before I start roaring with laughter.

Honestly, I don’t remember when was the last time I laughed that hard. It’s refreshing. Relaxing. Encouraging. I don’t know if it’s the whole tattoo experience or (Y/N)’s company, but I can’t recall feeling this alive and happy in a very long time.

It’s disappointing when she tells me she is done. She applies a gel on my freshly tattooed skin and invites me to check it in the mirror. And I don’t know how something like this can actually happen, but that’s the moment it actually hits me. I got a tattoo. It’s there, forever in my front arm.

Spencer Reid inked.

- “Alright, Dr. Reid.”- she says as she finishes placing a plastic patch on my tattoo.- “Keep this covered for the next 12 hours, then you take it out and wash it with baby soap and apply this cream every eight hours or when it starts to itch.”

I take the box and smile at her as she looks at my arm for one last time before looking directly into my eyes. It makes my heart skip a beat immediately, and I don’t know

- “Thank you so much.”- I manage to reply.

- “Not a problem. Technically, it’s my job, though you made it extra nice today, so thank you.”

I don’t know what to answer to that, so I just chuckle and blush. She stares at me in silence as well, but it’s not awkward, it’s… tense? But in a nice way. In a very unknown way as well. I am not familiar with this kind of situation. Or, at least, I don’t think I’m good at dealing with them.

- “So… Considering this is your first tattoo, and that I am a very professional tattoo artist, I’m gonna give you my number, so in case of any random question or doubt, you can reach me.”- the way her lips turn into a cute and sweet smile at the end of her little speech hints she is not just saying it to be nice. And I like it.

- “That’s very thoughtful. I appreciate it.”- I offer her my phone and she writes her number on it.- “I’m gonna ring you, so you can save mine.”

- “That’s great.”- and she is beaming.

- “Can I call you even if I don’t have questions about my tattoo?”

- “Sure, I can help with music rants if you ever need to talk about that, somehow I’ve also collected a lot of info about nineties trash TV and cult documentaries.”- I chuckle at the selection of subjects and nod.

- “Why cults?”

- “I’m not sure, I guess you never know when you might need a new asset at work… that doesn't make any sense.”

- “No, but I’ll take it. It’s not the weirdest answer related to cults I’ve gotten.”

- “Do I wanna know?”

- “Maybe over coffee?”

- “Pick me up at seven?”- I nod and she smiles one more.- “Good. I’ll see you later then.”

As I walk out of the tattoo shop I feel like a cliché again. I’m in my midlife crisis, I got my first tattoo, and somehow, I feel like a brand new person. I think I like myself a little more after doing this. I don’t think I’ll regret getting this ink done.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #babymetaldoll writes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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optimisticflicker · 5 months ago

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MOTA 1st Birthday Bingo (Flying Fortress-Completed)

Hi everybody, here is my completed bingo for the Flying Fortress. You can still sign up for your own bingo or to understand the rules here. This was so much fun and so happy I got to see how talented this fandom really is. 💕 Thank you so much @mota-collab for creating this super fun event!!

(Shoutout to @onyxsboxes for my card and @avonne-writes for helping deliver it!!)

Disgust: one way, or another by @blixabargelds

Literally exactly as one of the tag says, a planned kidnapping gone wrong, and there are certain parts where even though not explicitly said you can feel the disgust coming off one of the main characters in a big scene, not only with he’s been asked to do but also just with the whole situation

Post-war: nothin’ but blue skies from now on by @majorbuckyegan

I love this fic so much and just the love that Gale and John have for each other and starting from zero until they find their footing again. Also just protective Gale, my beloved.

Send an ask to a creator you love highlighting your favorite work of theirs: @rambleonwaywardson

You can find the ask here but you should definitely check out all their work. I’ve fallen in love with their Clegan Astronaut AU and there have been little snippets from that universe and I just can’t wait to see what else is in atore for them!!

Genuine apology: What else should I be? (All apologies) by @heretoobsessstuff

Such a good fic, literally made me want to jump inside my device and give him the biggest hug and Gale my love, you have no need to apologize

Anxiety: sweetest of the sunflowers by @avonne-writes

So so so so AMAZING! One of the first weeks I had read when I was getting into the fandom and man do I keep coming back to it. Wanna give both of the boys the biggest hug.

Sharing a blanket: I Don’t Wanna Be Alone Tonight by @johnslittlespoon

Starts out simple enough, just sharing a blanket and bunk to conserve heat but then turns spicy. Honestly an amazing one-shot!

Breakfast in bed: “My Sun”, “My Home” by @optimisticflicker

Alright so an original work for this promotion, actually my first work that I’ve done after so many years of writer's block, specifically for this event. Was having trouble finding a bed in breakfast work so I just thought why not make one? Pure fluff. Literally the Buckies just being obsessed with each other.

Pre-WW2: It’s different with you and me by @joeyalohadream

So adorable, and of course Gale getting involuntarily getting into trouble while Bucky wasn’t around and knowing it would be the same viceversa is very on brand for them.

Coffee shop au: Baking Spirits Bright by Happy_Days19 on AO3

Such a cute coffee shop meet cute au, and Bucky pining over Gale while he’s stressed and just tries to make his day at least a bit better with his little messages is just so cute.

#mota #john egan #gale cleven #clegan #buck x bucky #mota 1st birthday #mota 1st birthday bingo #so many talented people in this fandom #fic recs #original work

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ninguitar · 11 months ago

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　　sugar talking ──── your eyes ꣑꣒ only .

LOWKEY.　◦　❛ in which a concert you were tantalized by your friends into attending led to a one-night hook-up with band member, yu "karina" jimin, who was coincidentally a classmate, too. though incredulous and foolish, in karina's eyes, you were way too good to have you slipping through her fingers, but even so, she couldn't just act on it, leaving the two of you in an awkward predicament, keeping the feelings amidst lowkey. ❜

BACK. # NEXT PROFILES. #　

00.　　losers (stuco.)

y/n ; stuco vice pres. swears she'll post consistently every wednesday, yet she is almost always too lazy to edit her videos. is also on the badminton club for fun (also mainly because of keeho and ricky). is manon's partner-in-crime. somehow, she manages to squeeze in studying into her schedule. argues with keeho about who's the n1 sza fan.

yoon keeho ; stuco secretary. vlogs for fun ^_^ argues with y/n about being the self-proclaimed n1 sza fan and will never relent. plays badminton and is probably the most advanced out of everybody—he could even play professionally. is probably the most charismatic out of the group, along with manon. somehow knows all the drama in snhs?? his source: nobody knows.

manon bannerman ; stuco pres. she does almost everything for college apps. most charismatic in the group and is most approachable. ranked #1 in almost every subject and overall. got dragged into badminton club yet is barely hanging on. y/n's partner in crime. similar to keeho, she vlogs for fun and is usually unserious in her videos. loves, LOVES thrifting with megan, y/n, & chaewon.

megan skiendiel ; stuco pr officer. got dragged into being a part of stuco by manon and somehow got elected. likes to tease y/n about everything and anything she could and tag-teams y/n with manon. sweetest girl snhs knows. designated driver for stuco along with zhanghao. despite her long schedule, megan somehow attends most of snhs' party with ricky and kai.

shen "ricky" quanrui ; stuco treasury. keeho's and y/n's main target for teasing. known for his spectacular fashion taste all throughout snhs. singlehandely, his presence is what attracts more students to stuco events. most often seen with chaewon and zhanghao—the three of them always up to some chaos. loves, and i mean, LOVES exploring music genre, his most listened genre being r&b soul.

kim chaewon ; stuco senator. is somehow doing extraordinary well in her classes despite her desperate efforts in getting a tutor. is one of the most chaotic members in stuco, always up to something with either ricky or zhanghao. her dog is as much as a menace as she is. is practically worse than y/n at relationships—which is shown with her current "situationship" that has left her in shambles.

zhang hao ; stuco historian. somehow started getting called "zhanghao" despite his name being just hao, but nonetheless, he didn't pay much mind to it. tries to keep ricky's and chaewon's antics in check, though, often finds himself amused by them. has led competitions with manon academically, though there's no tension nor bad blood, just pure playful competition.

huening kamal kai ; stuco chairperson. makes music on the side after gaining followers from posting covers, and now posts his own songs. works hand-in-hand with kang taehyun and choi yeonjun. i fear he's the best advice giver in the group besides keeho and megan. likes to fool around at times, but usually is a no-nonsense person to keep everything in order.

A/N.　◦　hii, tysm for all the support so far for those who have tuned in !!! also, i js wanted to apologize for the long wait; i'm preoccupied with school work😭.

taglist. ୨ৎ @yeetaberry127 @yoontoonwhs @1luvkarina @sed7ction @stareaa @cceanvvaves (send an ask, or dm if you want to be tagged !! )

#୨ৎ AESPA — LOWKEY #fics 　.#kpop smau #smau #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #aespa smau #aespa imagines #karina smau #aespa karina #aespa karina x reader #yu jimin #karina x reader

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pines-troz · 1 year ago

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Night Shift - An Inside Out 2 One-Shot

AN: I recently saw Inside Out 2 and loved it a lot! Feeling inspired, I wrote a one-shot fanfic focusing on my favorite characters, Fear and Anxiety.

Plot: While Fear is on Dream Duty, he finds that Anxiety is still awake and is determined to help her.

Relationship Tags: Fear & Anxiety, Fear/Anxiety

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Mutual Pining

AO3 Link

On the main floor of Headquarters, nine colorful emotions gathered around the console. It was nighttime and after a busy day, their shift was coming to a close. The cool darkness of Riley’s room faded to black as the teen drifted off to sleep, causing the screen to turn off.

“And that’s a wrap,” Joy cheerfully declared. “Good work, everyone!”

The other eight emotions applauded as another great day finally ended. It had been about two months since the school year started, and three months since the five new emotions arrived. Though there had been some infighting at the beginning between the newcomers and the old guard, the ten of them already settled into a comfortable routine as nine of them operated the console with Nostalgia sneaking in now and again to reminisce over a recent memory.

“Fear, you’re in charge of dream duty tonight.” Joy reminded.

Though Fear suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, he refused to completely hide his disdain of dream duty. “Aye aye, Joy,” Fear sarcastically responded with a salute.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Joy responded, brushing aside the contemptuous tone. She leaned in and gave Fear a high five. Even he couldn’t help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. She then turned her attention to the rest of the group. “As for everyone else, let’s get some shut-eye!”

“Yeah!” Anger agreed. He moved over to Joy and the two shared a high-five before walking off together.

Fear smiled as he watched his friends/coworkers make their way to the bedroom. Sadness and Embarrassment walked together, appreciating each other’s company. Envy bounced over to Disgust while Anxiety and Ennui trailed behind as the latter lethargically pushed herself across the floor like the bored noodle that she was.

“Good night Fear,” the emotions told him in near unison.

“Good night everybody.” Fear replied.

Once everyone left the main floor, he let out an exasperated sigh. He dreaded dream duty. Not because he was scared of the dreams, far from it. But because the dreams themselves were so insipid.

The scenarios were ludicrous, the plotlines were structured terribly, and the dialogue was laughable. But it was part of the job and he had no choice. But just because he had to endure dream duty didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun on the night shift.

Fear ventured in the kitchen to gather his nourishment of choice for the night. He made himself a fresh cup of coffee with cream and sugar substitute and grabbed a box of crackers from the cabinet. After placing the bowl of crackers on a separate chair, the purple emotion smiled contentedly as he relaxed in his seat. He was going to need all the comfort he could get for whatever ridiculous dream he would be forced to watch.

Fear adjusted his spot on the chair, propped his legs on the console, and crossed them. Taking a swig of his coffee, he glanced at the screen. “Alright, what trainwreck of a dream do we have in store for tonight?”

The screen projection turned on to reveal an abandoned grocery store. From Riley’s perspective, she scanned her surroundings. The green and white tiled floors were particularly dirty and a synth-pop song muffled from the loudspeakers. She then made her way through the pasta aisle.

“The grocery store, seriously?” Fear groused. He was used to dreams taking place in school or a haunted house, but his suspension of disbelief was already broken. “So what’s the big set piece this time? Haunted pasta sauce?”

Suddenly, a metal clang rang out. Riley turned around to find a can of Chef Boyardee’s on the floor. After a moment of silence, the can started to chase her around. Fear cocked his brow. Though he was thoroughly unimpressed with this dream scenario, he still felt a small spark of satisfaction in predicting the storyline.

“Eh, close enough.” Fear shrugged his shoulders, taking another sip of his coffee.

He continued to heckle at the screen as the dream played out on the screen. The rolling can of cheap pasta escalated into a swarm of floating shopping lists and a fleet of shopping carts.

“Are they even trying anymore?” He riffed with a disbelieving laugh.

A sudden vibration sound reached his ears. He elicited a shriek as he jolted in his seat. The curled nerve on top of his head stood as straight as a lightning rod. Fear exhaled. No one else should be up at this time of night, and he was certain that Nostalgia would not make this much noise when intruding on the main floor. The only possible source for the vibration was the special chair Joy brought for Anxiety after Riley returned from Hockey Camp-

Fear blinked in realization. He slowly swiveled his seat to find Anxiety, donned in her orange-and-white striped pajama gown and green slippers, lying down in her special chair. She wore a perturbed expression as her eyes were glued to the ceiling. There was no doubt that she was anxious over something.

“Anxiety?” Fear asked.

Anxiety’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights at the sound of her name. The moment she stared at Fear she began to panic. She banged the off button with her fist, stopping the vibrations. In great haste, she adjusted the seat to an upright position. Bolting out of the chair, she cautiously approached Fear, keeping her hands clasped together as she twisted her arms about.

“I’m so, so sorry Fear,” Anxiety fervently apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dream duty. I want to go to sleep, but I can’t because I’m so worried about Riley’s Spanish test. I want to help her a-and I’ve been debating on whether she should study a little bit more or not.”

Fear empathetically gazed at Anxiety. He knew what it was like to feel unprepared in the face of uncertainty. But it was both his and Anxiety’s obligation to do their part to keep Riley on her toes for the things she can and cannot see. They were kindred spirits in that regard. They both played their part throughout the week to keep Riley in check as she studied for the big test. Earlier in the day, she spent three hours studying; two hours at the public library, thirty minutes before dinner, and thirty minutes before starting her bedtime routine. Fear was confident that Riley had a strong handle on the material and that she could ace the test. He had hoped that Anxiety felt a similar level of confidence as well. But as stared at Anxiety, he could tell that her mind was plagued with varying ‘what if’ outcomes of what could happen if Riley did poorly on the test. But Anxiety tended to focus on the worst-case scenarios, which only fueled her uneasiness.

Anxiety began to pace around the room. “If she doesn’t pass the test, then this might snowball into horrific consequences for her academic future! Or her future in general!”

Fear’s heart broke as he watched her get caught up in her whirlwind of worries. Now he felt compelled to help her out. Though part of him feared that he would say the wrong thing or make things worse, he still could not stand by and watch Anxiety suffer.

He got up from his seat and cautiously approached her from behind. “Hey Anxiety,” he gently tapped her shoulder.

Anxiety jumped a little at the soft touch. Fear felt a moment of apprehension, feeling that he made a miscalculated move. “Sorry!” He apologized. But when she turned around, her expression was a mix of somberness and yearning.

Fear mustered the courage to keep going. He placed his hand on her shoulder once more, thankful that she welcomed the gesture. “I understand your concern, and you did your best to help Riley stay on track for her upcoming test, but she needs to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow and so do you.”

“I know, I know,” Anxiety replied hastily. “But it’s just that I feel so overwhelmed,” she admitted as she began to tear up. “I want to help Riley do the best she can, but I don’t want to overdo it and hurt her again,” her voice began to crack.

Fear sadly stared at Anxiety, even feeling himself tear up a little at how broken she sounded. “Come here,” he said softly. Opening his arms, he enveloped her in an embrace.

He gently rubbed her back in a soothing motion, hoping it would help. To his surprise, he felt Anxiety wrapping her arms around him, tightening the hug. She elicited a choked sob before burying her face into his chest.

Fear continued to embrace Anxiety as she dispelled her tears. He tried to come up with any comforting words, but he was drawing a blank. But then he decided it would be best to show that he cared through his comforting actions.

Soon enough, Anxiety’s heavy breathing eventually evened out and the tears lessened. She loosened her hold around Fear and slowly released herself from the embrace. Anxiety looked up at Fear, her green eyes now puffy.

“Do you feel a little better now?” Fear gently asked.

Anxiety nodded her head. “Yeah,” she confirmed, giving him a little smile.

Fear smiled back at her, glad to hear that she was improving. “Do you want to talk about some potential solutions for Riley’s studying?” He inquired.

Anxiety scrubbed the last of her tears from her eyes. “But what about dream duty?”

They looked over to the screen only to find Riley watching a group of leotard-clad dancers resembling cats performing an elaborately choreographed dance number.

“Well that took a bizarre turn,” Fear commented. He looked back at Anxiety and shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, it looks like the dream can take care of itself. You, on the other hand, are far more important.”

Anxiety smiled softly at the affirming words. Fear motioned over to her special chair. “Come on, let’s take a seat,” he said, giving her a gentle pat on the back. He sprinted over to his chair and dragged it over to meet with Anxiety who returned to her special chair.

Fear placed the chair across from Anxiety so they could talk face-to-face and sat down. “You’re good at coming up with plans, Anxiety,” he complimented, matching his hands together and pointing them at her. “So what do you think Riley could do in the morning to ensure that she’ll do great on her test?”

Anxiety moved her feet back and forth as she gazed at the floor. After a moment of pondering, she looked up at Fear. “Well…she could review the study guide on the car ride to school,” she began.

“A most wise course of action,” Fear confirmed.

“And she can read through it once more during homeroom,” Anxiety continued, sounding more confident. “Oh! And after the test, she can get a head start on her rough draft for the English essay that’s due in two weeks!”

Fear’s face lit up as he snapped his fingers. “Now that sounds like a surefire plan for success!”

Anxiety’s shoulders relaxed. “It feels good to have a plan.”

Fear smiled back. “It does,” he agreed.

But the smile vanished from her face, appearing apprehensive once more. Fear concernedly stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

Anxiety took a deep breath. She placed her hand on her other arm and rubbed it soothingly. “I’m…I’m sorry for interrupting your dream duty and burdening you with my problems.”

“Anxiety, you have nothing to apologize for,” Fear reassured her as he got up from his seat and moved closer to her. He knelt by her side. “And please don’t refer to yourself as a burden because you are a valuable member of the team.” Brushing aside his fears, he gently took her hand into his own. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come to me.” He said with conviction, despite his cheeks turning a darker shade of purple. “I care about you a lot and I want to help you. So if you feel overwhelmed, you can come to me and we’ll work through it together.”

Anxiety looked at Fear’s hand. Though her cheeks heated up from the surprising gesture, she savored the comfort he provided her with. She threaded her fingers in between his and gave it a gentle squeeze before smiling back at him.

“Thanks, Fear,” Anxiety said softly. “For everything.”

Fear looked down at “I’m happy to help,” he confirmed.

“So do you mind if I camp out on my special chair for the night?” Anxiety inquired.

“Be my guest,” Fear replied. He then thought of an idea that could help Anxiety fall asleep faster.

“You make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back,” he gently told her while patting her hand before releasing it from his grasp.

Fear sprinted away from the main floor with a clear mission. He approached the bedroom and stealthily entered inside. Careful not to make any noise, he crept over to his bed and grabbed the essentials: a blanket, his favorite nightlight of the nine that illuminated his sleeping quarters, and his beloved teddy bear. With the items bundled in his arms, he returned to the control room, where Anxiety had already lit her lavender-scented candles and retrieved her sleep headphones.

Fear approached Anxiety with the precious cargo. He clutched the star nightlight and his teddy bear to his chest as he gathered the soft blanket before offering it to Anxiety. She graciously accepted the blanket and placed it over herself.

After plugging the nightlight on the wall, Fear approached her with the teddy bear. “I normally don’t do this, but tonight I shall bestow you with my nighttime companion.” He handed the teddy bear over to her.

Anxiety gazed at the adorable plush bear in adoration. “I will protect this precious creature with my life!” She declared.

“I hope that won’t be the case, but I commend the dedication,” Fear noted.

Fear went over to dim the lights and returned to the console. “I’ll do my best to keep my riffing to a minimum and use my indoor voice,” he told her as he brought his chair back to the console.

“Thank you Fear,” Anxiety said as she reclined the chair backward.

“You’re welcome,” Fear replied before turning his attention to the screen.

He continued to monitor the dream and was increasingly baffled by the story choices. Out of curiosity, Fear looked behind to find Anxiety fast asleep, clutching the teddy bear in her arms. She looked so calm and so…beautiful.

He smiled sweetly at her as the nerve on his head turned into the shape of a heart. Taking his hand, Fear pressed it to his lips and blew a kiss to Anxiety. “Sweet dreams, Anxiety.”

To his surprise, he caught Anxiety’s lips curving into a small smile.

The soft smile stayed on Fear's face as he swiveled the chair around to continue his job. Though the screen played out the ridiculous dream, the sight of Anxiety peacefully sleeping replayed in his head. He took another sip of his tea and smiled at the lovely sight.

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

Anxiety opened her eyes to find herself on the special chair. She looked down to find Fear’s precious teddy bear safely tucked in her arms. She instinctively hugged the bear while making a note to acquire her own emotional support plushie.

She looked over to see Fear propping himself up on the console, no doubt bored out of his mind from the mediocre dream. Anxiety cradled the bear in her arms as she stared at her kind coworker. Fear did so much for her last night and she wanted to return the favor.

Gathering the blanket and teddy bear, the orange emotion took off her sleeping headphones and slinked off her special chair. Once she stood up, she grabbed the nightlight and discreetly pulled it off the electrical socket. With Fear’s possessions bundled in her arms, Anxiety tiptoed away from the main floor.

She arrived at the sleeping quarters as the other emotions, save for Joy, were still in their slumber. Anxiety quietly moved over to Fear’s bunk. She plugged his favorite nightlight back into the outlet. Adjusting his pillow, she placed his teddy bear in place and tucked it in with his blanket. Smiling at her handiwork, she gave the teddy bear a couple of head pats before heading off to her bunk.

Anxiety quickly gathered her clothes from her drawer. She moved into the closet, got herself dressed, and made her way over to the kitchen.

As soon as she approached the doorway, she found a table filled with plates and a buffet of breakfast foods. Joy happily prepared scrambled eggs by the stove. The cheerful emotion turned around to find Anxiety standing by the doorway and smiled.

“Oh, there you are, Anxiety!” Joy said sweetly as she scrapped the scrambled eggs onto a large plate. “I noticed that you weren’t in your bed and got worried.”

“Sorry about that,” Fear replied as she cradled her hands together. “I had a little trouble falling asleep, but I moved over to the special chair.”

Joy looked relieved. “That’s good. And Fear’s dream duty didn’t distract you?”

“No, not at all!” Anxiety defended as she frantically waved her hands. “Fear actually helped me out last night by talking to me and being there for me when I needed it most.” She clasped her hands together. “And I want to do something nice for him.”

Joy smiled, glad to learn that Fear stepped up and helped Anxiety through her troubles and even more satisfied that Anxiety wanted to do something kind for him to show her gratitude. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Anxiety,” She noted.

Anxiety moved into the kitchen and scoured through the cupboards. She looked through the various flatware until she spotted a purple mug. “Aha!” She cheered as she brought it out and closed the cupboard door. Anxiety turned her gaze over to Joy. “So does Fear prefer coffee or tea in the morning?”

“He normally drinks honey lemon tea,” Joy answered without hesitation.

“Great!” Anxiety cheered. She turned her attention back to the cabinets. “Now where are the teabags located?”

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

Fear propped his head in his hands, leaning on the console as he stared absentmindedly at the screen. Riley was now rowing a canoe with Bloofy and Pouchy as her companions.

“I have lots of items!” Pouchy happily declared. “Which one do you think will work the best? A basketball? An avocado?”

“A coherent script?” Fear tiredly riffed. Before Pouchy could offer the dynamite, the dream shut off. Riley woke up and turned to her alarm clock to find that it 6:00 AM. Her alarm would not go off for another half-hour, so she chose to lie back down.

“Oh thank goodness, it’s over.” Fear exhaled. Grabbing the remote, he pressed the button which sounded the alarm for everyone to come to the control room. He let out a yawn and stretched out his arms.

“Hi, Fear,” Anxiety called out as she popped up right next to him. Fear shrieked in surprise, clutching his hands against his chest and moving his chair backwards. Anxiety herself yelped and recoiled at the response. After realizing they unintentionally scared each other, they took a moment to calm down before apologizing to one another in unison. “I’m so sorry, Anxiety,” “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

But after hearing their words overlap, they stopped to look at one another. After a moment of silence, Fear was the first to speak up. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yeah, I did, thank you,” Anxiety replied. “I, uh, want to give you something,”

She took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. Fear stared at Anxiety’s hand while she led him to her special chair. On the nightstand, he noticed two hot mugs of tea (one purple and one orange) sitting next to each other.

Anxiety let go of his hand and picked up the purple mug. “Here,” She quietly offered Fear the tea. Her eyes shyly darted toward the floor. “I...I wanted to thank you for helping me out last night.”

"Oh thank you, Anxiety, that's very thoughtful of you," Fear said as he gingerly accepted the tea. He inhaled the sweet aroma of the honey lemon tea and blissfully sighed. A good cup of tea was a splendid reward for enduring a long night of dream duty. But if was extra rewarding coming from someone he deeply cared for.

Fear looked at Anxiety. "So, are you ready to take on today?"

Anxiety grabbed her mug of green mint tea. "Yeah, I'm ready to put our plan into action."

The two shared a smile and clinked their mugs together.

#inside out 2 #inside out #inside out fear #inside out anxiety #fear x anxiety #inside out fandom #fanfiction #fanfic

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