#when you are (are are are are are are are) shown to be small and silly and foolish and beneath notice.

[bluewxrld07]

Soap

Lando Norris X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N has always loved hard and shows that through affection. Especially lately. She's a touch-starved kind of lovergirl, and Lando has always been okay with it. At least she thought so.

Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap

Warning(s): angst, Lando being an ass (so sorry), Max being bestie

Y/N had always been a lovergirl at heart.

She was never afraid to show it, show how much she cared about the person. Whether it was family, friends, or lovers. She thought they deserved to be shown how much she cared for them being a part of her life.

It was something she would never change doing. She grew up in a household where that's all they ever did. Showed how much they loved one another.

So, when she met Lando, she had never stepped away from her normal self. It was why he fell in love with her.

He met her at one of the F1 races, the girl working alongside Redbull, and being close to Max. Childhood friends, if you will. Max was the one to introduce the pair, always raving to both parties how well they'd be together.

Lando had always noticed the way she would hug or wrap her arms around Max. Not in a way that could lead to it looking like they were more than friends, she was just always friendly with everyone in a mature way.

It was the way she would brighten up a room when she came by, always making sure to give attention to everyone in the room equally.

After they had been introduced at an afterparty, she didn't hesitate to bring Lando in for a big hug.

Her scent smelled addictive, drawing him in more. That's when he realized that everything about her was addicting to keep around.

It wasn't long after that that the pair had begun dating.

It threw him off at first, the way she would nonchalantly be within his vicinity, like it was a reflex. It wasn't something he was used to, as his past flings and relationships were always very aware of their distance with Lando.

He had put two and two together when her touches were sly; things like wrapping her arm around his bicep or waist, when she'd run her hands through his curls randomly, or linking pinkies when they were in a crowded room.

She always had to touch him in some way, but at the same time, it was never something that overwhelmed him. It was just how she loved. How she cared.

Especially when she was drunk or tired. This girl was always by his side. Lando had soon became obsessed with it.

She wasn't afraid to show her love or affection towards Lando. She did have a brain, keeping it to a minimum as she didn't want people to roll their eyes every time a pap photo came out.

The fans had grown to love her, not too long after one of Lando's streams, she had made an appearance in. The way she wrapped her arms around him from behind, the boy leaned back in his gaming chair, at the feeling of her arms around him.

It was Raceday in Canada, Y/N was already in her game mode for the day.

Y/N was currently putting things together at the paddock, signing off on a few documents before handing them to one of the engineers and walking down towards Lando's garage.

She peers in, waving and going to give a small hug to Zac as she sees him, the man pointed to where Lando was.

The girl thanks him before making her way over towards the curly-headed boy, his back turned away from her as he spoke with one of his techs.

She softly wraps her arms around his torso, the man not alarmed one bit by her touch. Immediately knowing it was her without a glance.

He wraps his hands around her arms that wrap around him, letting them trail and slither to her hands before lacing them with his as he carries on his conversation with the tech.

Y/N presses a light kiss to his shoulder, patiently waiting as he speaks, not in any rush to pull him from the conversation.

Once the tech finishes up with Lando, the Brit turns to face his girlfriend. A goofy smile on his face as he wraps his arms around her figure. He looks down at her, placing a light kiss on her lips.

"Hi baby," he mutters softly against her lips. She grins against them.

"Hello, my love. How're you feeling?"

He shrugs, pulling back enough to look down at her as he rubs her back lovingly. "Pretty good. Pretty confident. Starting off high up after Qualifier for Canada is always a good sign. I think this will be a good one," he explains, Y/N nodding as she takes in every word.

"You got it, I feel it too. Gonna be a good one."

He hums at her, giving her a look. "Hm I don't think you should be telling me that," he jokes. "Sounding like a traitor to your own team."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Let me just my loving boyfriend goodluck on a race he needs, yeah? How's that?"

He chuckles before his eyes flicker to her lips for a second. She presses a couple chaste kisses to his lips after catching him, the boy smiling against her lips.

"Alright," he chuckles as she presses kisses all over his face. He backs away as she teases him, laughs leaving his lips. "Enough, gonna get lip gloss all over my face now."

She gives him a look. "Like you care."

He purses his lips, nodding curtly. "Got me there."

Y/N breaks away from his grip, grabbing his face one more time to press a big kiss on his cheek before backing away. "Goodluck, Norris!" she jokes. He rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah yeah."

"I love you!"

He smiles widely at her words, blowing a few kisses towards her as he gets handed his helmet.

Y/N chuckles as she makes her way back to the Redbull garage, seeing Max getting his gear ready to go. He looks over towards her, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"You give your Romeo his goodluck kiss?" He jokes, earning a playful shove from her.

"Shut it, Verstappen," she giggles, before pulling him for a hug. "Tear it up out there, yeah? Let's get this shit going."

He scoffs with a smug look before nodding. "It's me we're talking about. Of course I'll come out on top," That answer makes her push him away as they broke their hug, Y/N making her way back over to her spot in the garage.

Before she knew it, the race had started, and the cars were off. Y/N in complete game mode as she kept her eyes on the screen in front of her, cutting in when she needed to with Max.

Things had been smooth so far. McLaren was rocking it with their pole positions to say the least, and Max wasn't too far behind.

Y/N only froze when she had caught sight of both McLaren cars racing against one another, soon watching Lando's car get caught up and crashing into the wall.

It had made her chest tighten, and her stomach drop to her ass. She felt some of her coworkers look her way, waiting for a reaction from her. Y/N only sitting there in her chair, hands covering her mouth in shock as she watches it unfold.

The girl couldn't move. Not only because she was frozen. But they were still in the middle of a race.

As much as she wanted to drop everything and go make sure he was okay, she still had her job to do. She knew he'd understand that.

"Y/N, he's okay. All good. No injuries," Max's voice comes in, as if knowing she would immediately drift over to thinking about him. He was anchoring her back, making sure she knew he would be able to assure her to snap back into race mode.

She nods more to herself, muttering a 'thank you, keep pushing' to Max through the radio.

Her knee bounced the rest of the race, not wasting a second to stand up straight from her spot to join the crew over where Max met them as he finished P2.

Max immediately went to Y/N first, seeing both freight about Lando and excitement in her eyes for her best friend placing, in her eyes. He could tell she was in a mental battle.

So he says nothing, just gives her a tight smile and pulls her into his arms. She doesn't hesitate to hug him back, placing a friendly kiss on his head. "Still a good spot to place," she says, her tone uneasy. "That's worth something."

He chuckles before breaking away from her, his eyes looking down at her antsy state.

He nods towards the garages.

"Go find him," he says, making her snap up and look at him.

"What-"

"Go make sure he's okay. I can read you better than you think."

She gives him a sad smile, kissing his cheek before squeezing her way past people and darting straight to the McLaren garage.

Her eyes search through the crowd of reporters already over there, seeing that Lando was interviewing with one. His face showed nothing but a blank state, trying to make it look as neutral as possible.

Y/N makes her way towards the side of the garage, managing to squeeze by the reporters, watching as Lando finishes with his interviews. He starts to walk back towards his Driver's room, Y/N following cautiously behind him.

By the way he was walking, she could tell he was pissed off and disappointed.

He shuts the door behind him, Y/N stopping it before it can fully slam, before slipping inside. It clicks behind her, the girl saying his name softly as she approached him.

He huffs as he leans against the desk in the middle of the room, Y/N seeing he was trying to not lose it.

"Lan," she says once more, her arms coming out to reach for him. "I'm not going to ask how you are, I know you hate that."

He scoffs at her words, nodding and still remaining silent.

"I'm sorry. I know how bad you want it," she assures, trying to be cautious of her words. Her hands softly make contact with his back, running her nails up his spine.

It's not too long after he immediately snaps up and away from her touch, walking to the other side of the room.

She frowns at first, but just turns her body to watch his figure walk towards his closet. "You can talk to me," she says. "Say anything to get it out of your system. I'm here to listen."

He shook his head. "Stop."

Her brows furrowed. "Lando I'm just-"

"No, just stop," he snaps back at her. His head snapped over to glare at her over his shoulders. Y/N just nods, understanding he doesn't want to talk. "I'm sorry," she mutters.

So instead, she just advances towards him, beginning to wrap her arms around him. He doesn't hesitate to rip her arms off of him and turn to face her.

"Y/N fucking stop, enough! Stop touching me!" he yells at her, the tone he was using was something she had never heard him use on her before. This was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her.

"I'm sorry. Lando, I swear I was just trying to help-"

"Well don't! I don't want to talk about it, or have you always clinging onto me," he shoots, making her eyes harden. "It's fucking too much. You're too much."

"Excuse me?" she asks softly. "You always tell me my touch helps calm you down."

"Well I lied," he snaps, making her face drop. "You're always hovering. You're fucking suffocating me."

Y/N swears her heart drops.

Was she really making him feel that way?

"You're always fucking touch me, fuck," he huffs, running a hand through his hair. "I don't need this right now. You need to leave, or I'm gonna say some fucked up shit."

Y/N nods, trying her best to keep her composure. "You already did."

Lando's eyes soften as he finally turns to look at her. He sees that her eyes are glossed over with tears, but her stance and stare are harsh.

"I'm too much? That's fine," she scoffs before heading to the door, not even aware that tears are streaming down her cheeks.

"Y/N wait-"

"Feel better, Lando," she sniffles. "I hope you know you don't need to be so down on yourself."

With that, she shuts his door with a light slam and scurries her way out of the garage. Her head is down as she excuses herself past people, wiping away the wetness on her face.

Once she's back in the Redbull garage, she doesn't hesitate to make her way back towards the staircase to the offices, heading to the second floor.

She misses the way Max sees her walking in, his proud smile dropping immediately as he sees her red and blotchy face.

He excuses himself from the last of his interviews, immediately following her hurried steps. When he reaches the top of the steps he feels his heart tighten, hearing her break down into sobs behind her office door.

Max doesn't waste any time opening the door, Y/N whipping around to see him standing there.

His face falls, making his way towards her.

"Don't," she says shakily, wrapping her arms around herself. He furrows his brows, but stops in his tracks.

"What happened?" he asked her. She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes as she felt her heart break. Her chest burned as her head replayed Lando's tone. His words.

"Y/N," Max presses, a more stern tone and hard expression. "What happened?"

Y/N says nothing, just sniffling before her eyes meet Max's. The next words that leave her mouth nearly make his knees give out.

"Am I really too much? Do I suffocate people?"

Max tilts his head, confused by her words. He steps closer to her, not caring if she tries to push him away. Her words slowly starting to click in his head.

She was thinking she was clingy.

"Y/N no," he softly answers, immediately pulling her in for a tight hug. His arms encircled her entire body as he felt her body shake. "Absolutely not. You're never suffocating. You love so physically. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Then why does Lando think that?"

Oh, if he didn't have a reputation to hold, he would've easily left that room and made Lando run for his money.

He'd do it regardless, actually.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I don't mean to be. I just wanted to help him. I'm sorry," she sniffles in between hiccups.

Max shushes her softly, taking one of his hands and caressing her head. His other hand stays wrapped tightly around her waist. His mind was going a million miles a minute.

Y/N was always the strong one between the two. She never cried. It just wasn't something she did. It was rare, and Max would know that.

So the fact that Lando had made her cry spoke volumes in his mind.

Lando had a lot of explaining to do, and Max wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it.

Not after this.

[quailfence]

[Video description/transcript: A few baseballs are shown in a cubbyhole. A hand grabs one of the baseballs and takes it over to a metal table. They then begin taking out the stitching of the baseball. White text appears on screen, saying "Thread does more than hold a baseball together. Each small stitch can impact its journey through the air. For baseball's LGBTQ+ fans, players, and communities, small milestones can make a big impact too." The hand then takes a spool of progress pride-colored thread, threads a needle with it, and begins restitching the baseball using the pride thread. Text: "From LGBTQ+ players in the minor leagues and LGBTQ+ executives in front offices, to every pride night and parade crew, every action pulls our communities closer together. And that's more important than ever. Because there is work to do. We've yet to see an out, LGBTQ+ player on a big league roster. But that day will come. And when everyone can be who they are, and love who they love, out loud, everyone wins." The hand finishes stitching and cuts the thread. They then run a finger along the new stitches. Text: "Happy Pride from the Seattle Mariners." The hand sets the ball back on the table, amongst the old stitching. Text: "Mariners.com/pride". A rainbow-colored version of the Mariners logo appears. Fade to black. End video description.]

[Image description: A Tweet by the Stalle Mariners (@/Mariners) that reads "Baseball is for everyone (rainbow flag emoji) (trans flag emoji)". End description.]

Do NOT delete my description if you reblog from me, it is for accessibility. If you do I WILL block you

@a-captions-blog @doctorwhoisadhd

they went off with this

[trh0d3s]

Manager In The making!

Ch 3!

Saja boys x human manager reader

Warning this is not beta read so I’m sorry if it’s not as good as the others😭

It’s been a couple hours rooted to your spot only looking away from your computer at passing groups gushing and praising the new song. You can hear the music coming off their phone or leaking out of earbuds, singing the lyrics together or humming it to themselves.

 That’s what you’re aiming for in this career. You know sometimes your shortsighted, and rush ahead for opportunities that only bring you back down. This feels like a good thing being scouted to help manage something so amazing even, it can’t stop the feeling in the back of your head. Like something was wrong but you couldn’t put a finger on it, was it because they came from overseas? Maybe the black card? The leader gave it away so carelessly, you may have all your credentials and info on your resume but’s it’s Craigslist for Christ’s sake. You should be the one scared right now actually…

You look back to your computer you’ve spent so much time staring at the people around you it turned off. You try and turn it back on but no luck it’s died from constant use. Pretty good sign for you to take a break and grab the charger back at home, maybe a shower too? You ran out so fast that morning leaving yesterdays mess for today’s problem. You get up and clear out the table you were occupying, cups strewn around that some of the boys left. You grab the crumbled paper Jinu gave you and tuck it into your wallet next to the card.

Theres a small crafts shop that does prints close by usually run by teenagers or college students needing extra money or discounted supplies. They close late to accommodate students on deadlines, that’s how they get extra cash. Pretty good work ethic especially since it’s going to help you out.

You pass by on your way home, didn’t look as busy today the last couple days people were in and out Gathering supplies for shirts or big signs in hope their favorite idol group saw them.

You were a frequent customer when given work for off handed jobs but it’s been slow lately. You’d buy small bentos or the frequent cup noodle at the small corner in the back reminding everyone breaks where needed for success. You’d know, you spent countless nights at that small corner milling over what to get. That same same sign taped to the small freezer every time you opened it.

Right now, you just want to wash your hair. Sigh.

The apartment was still the mess you left it in, wrappers on the floor by the couch. A half-eaten burrito. Wonder where you got that from? Was it before when you got a case of beer or after during the hysterics.

You kick an empty can out the way that rolled into the hallway one goal in mind before having to suffer all over again. Pain is gain!

Cleaning up to the best of your ability, throwing away trash and fixing your living room to look like you didn’t have a pre mid life crises. State of mind is shown through the living space you got right? Got to at least act like you know what you’re doing.

The shower was short and sweet. NOT! You spent half the time scrubbing your hair, shoulders and arms. Think you could still smell romances hair gel on you. First thing get that man some better smelling hair spray or at least hair cream and drown yourself in your own cologne. No longer smelling like cheap hair gel and dying dreams, you step out wringing water out of your hair into a towel.

You look outside your window, sun long setting, the area should be clearing out by now and you desperately need to get back to work. Getting dressed and drying your hair haphazardly you walk out the door, the crisp air hitting you in the face.

You pull out your phone to message Jinu through that stupid email he has to meet you outside the same alley, you needed some assistance. You’re going to get some free labor out of this.

Only streetlights lit your path, shops closing up and the lonely supplies store around the corner. You don’t know how long your able to keep waiting for Jinu to show up. You sigh turning to direction of the crafts store to start already, should be expected of the manager to do everything by themselves. “Don’t blame me if I can’t map out where you’re dancing and you fall over like idiots…” Mumbling out with a huff, you can get this done in no time.

“Is our manager calling us names?” You swivel around ready to punch someone only to almost bump into Jinu, his hand covering his mouth in mock shock and betrayal. You hear a snicker behind Jinu and lean to the side to see who was laughing at your misfortune! It was baby laughing into his hand but he wasn’t laughing at you more at Jinu the rest of his entourage close behind.

“I think they were calling you an idiot Jinu!” Baby spits out catching the attention of the two loiterers, romance struts up to you in long strides, Abby close behind to pull you in under their arms trapping you between them. “We leave you for a couple hours, asking for our help then calling us idiots?” Abby drawls out in a fake sad tone “Thought we had something sweet heart” Romance chimes in leaning too close to your face, this must be what hell feels like.

You push his face away, palm to face trying not to shove too hard but he’s REALY trying to find out, maybe you should invest getting a spray bottle? Would do his hair and you a favor. “Nope. I’m not doing that right now. Why did all of you come anyway?!”  

Jinu steps up into the light the yellow of the street lamp reflecting across his eyes.

Trick of the light. Very dismissible.

“Can’t go sightseeing after dark? Just wanted to help our amazing manager out you know. I know how much numbers mean to you, so I’ll get our dance floor ready for you!” He chuckles to himself like he’s doing such a good deed helping their poor manager out. You really don’t care that much though not wanting to play into this high rise he’s trying to do. But You really did need to know the spacing.

“Then mind some of you follow me? I need some extra hands.” Jinu nods to abby and mystery to follow you, sharing a couple glances with each other that could only be translated to one thing. Behave. They followed you down the brick street, baby tagging along just to watch what you were doing leaving with a glance behind him. This was not what  he saw his night going.

Jinu watched you all leave, sending a crow to follow after you and keep track of his boys. Directing romance to stay and do what he promised he would do. Romance sighs before walking around the space pretending he knows what he’s doing.  Jinu looks back at where you left before walkong into the dark corners of the plaza. where he’s meant to be, passing shops, houses and streets to where he needed to be. Crossing between broken lights and dark corners truly a shadow in the dark.

  A small producer that worked regularly on game shows, he scouted him out before completely coming here it was why he brought everyone, needed you fully distracted. He was just a typical man with a typical life and typical sins.

Like greed and envy.

Gwi- ma whispers in the back of his mind, clawing and waiting. He’s hungry Jinu and you need to feed him. The hunger of decades nothing can satisfy him now. Jinu. Feed him. Feed him. FEED HIM

Click.

The man’s shoes stagger alone at the side of the street, a rough night at the bar it seems.  He Reeks, alcohol and sweat mixing with the air.  jinu can feel the disgust course through his body before coming out of the shadows, bumping into the business man. The man staggers off into the side walking under the flickering bulb of a street lamp.

“I’m sorry sir” He said in a rushed-out breath, rubbing his shoulder like it done something to him. He bows and steps closer. “Now if you could just look at me” He steps under the fluttering bulb, every flash yellow eyes shines in the darkness.

You look back down the street you just came in through. Did you forget something? No, you said your piece. You really only needed one person to help you carry the flyers back…

You huff walking to the supplies shop fully aware of the odd squad following you. Mystery a little too close for your liking but not uncomfortable. The corner of your eye baby is looking around; hands stuffed into his jeans but his gaze always ended at the back of your head. You whip your head around trying to catch him but he’s already looking away a cat catching his interest.

“While you’re with me. Got a particular style or am I allowed to choose?” That catches Abby’s interest, he’s hanging back staring up being too tough to notice us. Poser.

Baby looks back to you while holding onto mystery’s collar it looked like he was trying to chase after the said cat.“You can choose I wouldn’t know the style here” He drags mystery back beside you as Abby matches pace for once. “Choose his too I don’t think he’d mind” Mystery shakes his head no settling down next to you.

“Make sure to accentuate my best features-“Abby starts flexing next to you making you step back in mild disgust and amusement. Ew. Man sweat in your face. You can’t help but laugh though was he trying to impress you or himself? You chuckle and pat his bicep lightly pushing it down from its flexing position. “I’ll make you picture worthy”

You make it to the front of the store, soft lighting inviting you in. Opening the door you keep it open for the boys to come in, mystery lingers a little behind making sure your coming in too. Curious one he is. Like a puppy kinda?

The college student working at the register greets you with the same overworked greeting. He gives you all a glance before looking back down to his paper scribbling away. You look up to him, new worker? Haven’t seen him before but it’s usual for college kids. Usually when it’s big orders like this you have to get your own paper and ink. Shop policy but it’s not your money.

You travel down the small aisles the boys branching off into different sections, you already know where to go. “Abby come here and hold this” you peek over the aisle trying to spot him but he walks up behind you annoyed. “Arnt you the manager?” You interrupt him by putting two stacks of copy paper into his hands along with ink letting him fumble with it before finding balance. “It’s your fault you tagged along” you hum turning your back to him glazing over once more of the selection, maybe you should get some extra sticky notes and tape? He grumbles more as you add on to his pile begrudgingly following you as you walk to the back corner where baby was at.

Ah. The snack and small meal corner, how you missed thee. Baby was staring at a cup of spicy noodles chili pepper challenge must be one of the personal picks employees can do every month. Has be a prank who would want this? Oh. Baby wants this. Well, you can’t fall short on giving your employers what they want. You grab the noodles and throw it into the pile before looking for something for yourself. Abby has to move to the side to catch it like he’s playing goalie with your demands. This was why he didn’t want a manager in the beginning! But noooo Jinu said it would make them less suspicious if they had someone as a front!

You grab yourself a energy drink and triangle kimbap looking around for mystery but you can’t find him. You hear a voice calling for you at the back is that..? A short elderly woman comes out of the draw bead door a little too spry for her age especially at this time of night. “_______? Is that you _____?” She smiles at you the creases around her eyes crinkling seeing you.

“Miss nana?! Thought you were taking time off? you know late nights isn’t good for your sleep apnea” she waves you off making her way to the counter to shoo the college boy to the printer and start it up she knows what you needed, she always did. “You must be projecting loves. I’m still young and fit to work with the kids!”  She makes it to the counter where you finally see mystery in the corner looking at the small Knick knacks the women keeps around. “We haven’t see you in a while. Finally sleeping?” She leans in over the counter to look at your face before laughing. “Nope but it looks like you have work your enjoying again?” You chuckle at her comment pulling Abby along with you to the counter “and a boy toy?” She giggles into hand before seeing the other two walk up behind me. “Oh I see how it is”

You look up at her with the most bewildered expression. You? With them? Your employers? Rather pass out on the train tracks from exhaustion. “Yea no miss nana they are just my employers. We are actually setting something up in the square tomorrow you should check it out” You wave her off handing the papers and ink. Abby starts sputtering pointing to you and then him before back to you. “Lady I know I’m a whole package tied in a bow but I have more taste that” He leans into the counter a smirk on his face proud of himself but she only looks at him then to you. “You could do better” That forced you to look away and snort out a laugh, you love this women.

“All of this please miss nana and could you warm this up?” You hand her the cup noodle and she looks it over then up at you. “Remember the last time you had something like this?” The civil war flashbacks you’re having right now. That fateful day you were working under civil management. “Please don’t enlighten me.” Abby getting over his minor ego breakdown to get his crap together and swivel his head around to the older women. “Tell me then!” Baby walks up beside you curious about all the yelling.” tell you what?”

You look at him in betrayal you thought he was the good one?! Mystery’s your favorite now. “Miss nana please not now! I have a lot of preparing to do so embarrass me later!” She chuckles finding the predicament and red face hilarious. You were always so easy to mess with, wonder how you could  stay so long in your line of work. She goes to the back to grab the kettle of hot water and come back to continue talking. “How many copies you need loves?” She pours it in while you fish out the hard drive and black card to hand over to her. Her aged hands set down the kettle taking the hard drive and card in her fingers “200 copies if you don’t mind” you take the cup noodle she was preparing and hand it to baby while grabbing disposable chopsticks. Not sparing a glance at him more like shoving it into his hands and hoped he didn’t drop it.

You made sure the sides didn’t spill in your moment of distractedness, He looks down at his hands the hot noodles steam rising up into his face. It smelled good…He didn’t listen to the rest of your conversation gathering the noodles with his chopsticks to dig in. It’s been so long since he ate something so good, is this the evolution of humanity? Mystery leans in behind him curious so he holds up a noodle only for mystery to scrunch his nose at the spicy aroma. More for him then. Baby stands behind you in his own piece of heaven as you argue playfully with the old women about the card.

The old hag yells for college boy now known as Jin in the back handing him the usb and go print. He nods tiredly like on autopilot the underpaid worker is not as blessed as his name suggests. She looks back down at the black card after she swipes it under the card reader the purple sheen reflecting from the Luminescent then back at you. Two stacks of flyers dropped onto the counter with a thud the sound interrupting her train of thought.

“Mystery take this for me “You drop the stack into his hands not finding Abby behind you so you can’t make him suffer. “Go find Abby outside I think he’s chasing his lost protein powder  or something” He leans a little too close smelling the air for a second then doing as you say going outside. You decide to ignore this it’s probably from the cup noodles they gave baby earlier. “Miss nana are you staying long?” You smile down at her before checking your watch but she just looks at you and then the boys outside. Taking your hand in hers placing the card in it she speaks in a low motherly  voice. “Be careful hun  I know you are smart but being smart won’t help you if you are not careful” Did she know something? You open your mouth to comment on the change of tone but her face erupts in a smile and pushes your shoulders to the door. “Now go and finish up. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She says lifting a brow waving you off with, a smile breaks on her face watching you erupt into redness again.

“Ah- I’m not you!” You run out into the street red faced in both frustration and audacity almost bumping into mystery who was standing at the door waiting for you. “Crap my bad…” you look up at him staring at you? You couldn’t tell so you just started going around taping flyers while he followed after you. “Abby get your butt over here!”

Abby looks away from the crow perched on the lamp post already annoyed. Great more Manuel labor. He sends the crow a glare but it only blinked at him before narrowing its own eyes at Abby. Stupid bird with a stupid hat. Even when Jinu wasn’t there he was still watching.

He walks over to you ready to take the stack from mystery only for him to pull away. Is this not what he was called for? You pay them no mind too busy taping flyers on windows smoothing out wrinkles. This is really starting to piss him off what are you good for if you can’t do this without help. Should’ve killed you when they had a chance, taken your soul to Gwi-ma and make him happy. He stalks up to you from behind letting his arm hang low as purple patterns travel and appear. His nails gleamed when he raised his arm ready to strike.

��ACK- HEY!”

You turn around to Abby getting attacked by a bird? With a hat. A bird with a hat is swooping down and pecking Abby.

This has to be the best day of your life.

 He’s swatting at the bird trying to duck away from it. “I’m sorry I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” How did he piss off this dripped out crow? He starts running around baby and mystery trying to lose it but no avail. He’s messed up gotta pay the price. You shake your head in disappointment grabbing another paper from mystery’s stack you called him over so he WOULDN’T get into trouble. “Let’s just go…the others must be waiting” you turn away from Abby letting nature do its work, as you walked you taped up more around stepping back to see your progress. Shoddy but it’s to be expected, baby helps you out to after laughing his ass off watching Abby suffer, he saw what he was trying to do. When Jinu says not yet it’s not yet. Why didn’t he help you then? He was too busy chowing down and savoring his noodles, The Man has priorities.

You make it back to the plaza, romance was leaning against a empty stall Jinu was walking around the main area with a stick he found. He flicks his wrist discreetly and the crow backs off Abby retreating to the roof tops. He throws the stick to the side like a little kid getting caught to walk up to you with a smile. “So how do they look!” He takes a flyer off mystery’s stack to look it over eyes widening, it’s better than he expected. “Good work, we uh had a good run too I’ll send you the details” He pockets the flyer and grabs half the stack to dump in Abby’s arms. “You help our manager too” He announces looking Abby in the eye with a warning glare a bite to his tone.

You roll your eyes and motion mystery to follow you before throwing a roll of tape to romance. He catches it with a smirk before dropping it Peter quill style. Ha, loser.

With all this help you get done faster than originally planned, you were going to stay out later to finish up but it cut your timing. This must be really important if their out like this helping their manager. You try and Finish up, taping a flyer around one the the many roads leading to the square it has to be the last one right? Hopefully Abby’s actually helping and didn’t dump them somewhere. You hum to yourself ripping the tape with your teeth which may or not cut your lip a little. You know better but you don’t bother to actually remember to get proper tools.

You could feel your shadow getting closer to you, Mystery was standing over you again still holding what’s left of the stack he wouldn’t let you take it from him. Why was he standing so close? Turning to confront him he leans in close dipping down to inhale at your collar this time.

 “You smell good…”

 Pause, that was the first thing he’s ever said to you, just to smell you? He mumbled it but it was clear with how close he was to you. You did scrub yourself down and drown yourself in cologne, but personal space exists for a reason!

Mystery looks down at you through his bangs, why are you so red? He just said you smelled good. After years down under with a bunch of demons your sense of smell can be clouded. If he was honest, he liked it up here better but he can’t really say anything without consequences…. He didn’t care when you started hitting his chest out of shock, pushing him away. They didn’t feel like anything anyway. Humans are weird.

Your face explodes before turning into a glare smacking mystery’s chest to push him back. Mystery isn’t your favorite anymore! Why is everyone trying to mess with you today? You’re the damn manager! And he’s still staring at you…what part of over seas is this normal? The demon kind ______. (YOU DUMB BIT-)

You walk out of that alley back to the main square you are not dealing with that right now. You rather keep your sanity for another hour or what’s left of it. The boys seemed to be done already, discussing with each other quietly but the aggressive whispering from Abby told you that you shouldn’t butt in. So you send mystery to, he can pay his price by potentially getting jumped.

“Are you done already? Thank you so much!” You exclaim wandering to around to check out their work, not bad but not better than you of course.  You look down at your phone to check the time geez 12 already? “You should probably head back by now it’s getting late…” your words die down when you turn around to no one there. Ah, they disappeared again..….dam magicians.

Your phone vibrates a new notification coming from your email, you open it up letting the bright light illuminate your face. It’s a response to the submission to be on play games with us. Weird thing was…you didn’t even press send yet.

————————-—-Out takes—————————

Give mystery the chance and he will.

Mc: Between Abby, Baby and Mystery, there are three braincells. Mc: And Baby has all three of them.

If you got any comments on how I can do better please do tell me!

[drabbles-of-writing]

"Kai's good with kids!" slightly incorrect. Kai is good with stubborn, troublesome kids. Dudes been shown to be dogshit when solely interacting with pretty much all people younger than him except for Nya, Lloyd, & Wyldfyre

He raised Nya, but we know that girl. We've seen her. I know she was a NIGHTMARE kid. She has strong opinions, holds grudges, and does whatever she wants. I love her for this. I also know teenage Kai was fighting for his LIFE. Lloyd was Little Shit Extraordinaire, and he didn't have the bonus of being blood-related to Kai, so Kai had 0 incentive to like him. Even still, Kai heard a small child in distress and immediately Locked In and decided awesome, I'm protecting you forever now. Wyldfyre similarly annoyed the absolute shit out of him, but Kai had his Growth. He still threw hands with Wyldfyre but the difference here is he knew she could fight back. He clocked pretty immediately she had an impatient temper but had a very strong love for her tiny family of 2 (oh hey s1 Kai when'd you get here) and in NO time began flawlessly mentoring.

Kai is like a guy who went to a camp for troubled youths, grew up, then decided to become a counselor at that same camp. He can wrangle a teenage dirtbag out of an alley like a stray cat but if you put him in the same room as a fairly normal kid he's looking at them like this

[thewretched1999]

── .✦ i'm not in love, so don't forget it.

a/n: this is inspired by the song. i had it on loop while writing....god i lovelovelove vergil...ghhh ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| cw: none! it's all just fluff. wc: 1k

When Dante finally showed up again with Vergil in tow, he felt like a mystery to you. 

It seemed on the surface that he was nothing like V, who was so open and honest about everything when it came to you, from his thoughts to his feelings, all were whispered and confessed in the dark expressed with flowery words and shown through poems he’d come to associate with you.

Vergil wasn’t like that.

For the first few weeks he barely even looked your way, and when you tried to make idle conversation with him it felt like talking to a brick wall until he’d take his leave to go demon hunting with Dante as if they hadn’t spent months doing just that every damn day. You somehow didn't take offense because V’s words always rung in your head.

It was hard to forget about the man that you came to care for but even after he’d long been gone, replaced by a man in blue who’d treated you so coldly in the beginning--those feelings didn’t waver, merely adapted.

To your benefit, Vergil’s frigid and callous temperament didn’t last long. His front melted away rather quickly, actually.

Despite being nothing like V. Vergil couldn’t keep away, couldn’t force himself to forget the nights he’d spent with you as V, curled up on the ratty couch reading poems when there was nothing to do, but he couldn’t quite let himself accept that the love you had for him was still there.

He didn’t really know what to do with these feelings either. Couldn't decide whether to bottle them up or let himself explore them thoroughly this time, without the worry of his time running out.

Only when you two were alone would he let himself indulge in you just a little.

Some days he’d avoid you like the plague and on others he’d cling to you so tightly, never saying a word unless you tried to get up and leave when you thought he was asleep, and when he does open his mouth to speak all he mutters is a;

“Don’t.”

Before letting the room fall into silence again, keeping you crushed against the couch with your only option left being to let your hands run through his hair gently. At least until he senses Dante or Nero on their way. Only then does he shove you away and pretend like nothing happened.

Vergil says he doesn’t love you, but he lies to himself and to anyone who’ll ask. When his hand finds yours he’ll ignore the puzzled look on your face, when he holds the door open for you he’ll say it’s because he has manners. (He shuts the door in front of Dante, so you don’t know how true that is.)

…And when he takes you out under the guise of a hunt to slow dance with you in the forest, leaving only the fireflies and the stars above to bear witness, he won’t say anything at all.

It’s peaceful, when you two come together like lovers who’ve known each other for lifetimes, how he cradles you close to him so delicately, but it’s all so so confusing, his hand stays faithfully on the small of your back, whilst the other holds onto yours tenderly, most would never take Vergil for a romantic, but you know better.

“You didn’t have to bring me this far out.” You murmur, slightly pulling away from where you’d had your head resting against his shoulder to look up at him, to see how his eyes sparkle with something soft underneath the moonlight, pupils dilating before he looks away.

You smile. He was so obvious. 

“I thought it was a lovely place.” He mutters. He’s right, you suppose, it’s gorgeous, serene. 

“How did you even find this place?” You ask, his hand squeezes yours softly, and like always, it’s him who presses his forehead against yours.

“Does it matter?”

“No.” You hum. “I guess not.”

You pause, and something else piques your interest.

“I didn’t take you for the type to dance.” 

Vergil's lips press into a thin line. “I don’t.” 

Yet the way he moves so gracefully with you to the song playing from the little radio he’d brought quietly says otherwise, speaks as if he's done it for years. You don't poke fun or prod though, at least not yet, simply hum as if it were the most interesting thing you'd heard.

“I’m special then?” You ask teasingly, just to hear his answer.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face, you know for everything Vergil is, everything he was, underneath all the ice he’s a man in love, you half expect him to deny it but he surprises you.

“You are.” He says.

You stay silent for a moment, wondering if you’d heard right, before you beam, grinning so widely and laughing so softly in disbelief he knows it’s not meant to mock, it’s why he doesn’t make a fuss.

“You admit it.” Your hand unravels from his only because he reluctantly lets it, rewarded when he feels the warm pressure of your hand as it comes up to cup his cheek gently, in which he leans into your touch almost instantly. Needy man.

The silence washes over you both again, but this time it’s not heavy with denial or unsaid words, only the calm that comes with acceptance and a new beginning. 

When he doesn’t look away from you, doesn’t deny that yes, he does feel something for you, something he’s yearned for all his life—you lean in to let your nose brush against his, his breath ghosts against yours, mingling for just a moment until finally his lips meet yours.

He doesn’t hide the affection he holds for you, it’s all consuming and heartachingly tender the way he lets you lead—and how wonderful it is to be reminded that you still feel the same. As if your feelings for him would have ever changed.

While yes, you may have loved V, you adore Vergil.

[midnighthazee]

My Girl

Pairing: Stalker!Jeongin x afab!reader

Summary: When Jeongin first saw you, his world became revolved around you. He was your stalker (unbeknownst to you) and now he's your loving, devoted boyfriend. He finally has you all for himself and he had no intention of ever losing you.

Word Count: 3578

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, slight angst, little violence, face riding, multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, unprotected sex (be healthy ladies!), creampie, kinda rough, lovebites, both getting sex drunk off each other...I think thats it..

a/n: sorry if you don't like Mint Chocolate ice cream...

Jeongin POV

It finally happened. He had been coming to this coffee shop six days a week at 8:30 in the morning to catch sight of her. He noticed her about three weeks ago when he stopped by randomly. She was leaving as he walked in and he nearly got hit by a car staring. She was breathtakingly gorgeous. The kind of beauty that made him forget why he went there in the first place (which was to get coffee for his coworkers).

He didn’t get her name until the next week when she had finally shown up after he was already there. He waited eagerly by the window for the barista to finally call out her name. And when she did, it was like music to his ears.….Y/n.

Now that he knew her name, he began researching on the internet trying to find out more about her. He had to know more. But to his dismay, just her first name was not enough to get far. So instead, he had been coming here every day to try to see her and work up the courage to talk to her - or at least be noticed. And today…she noticed him. 

8:42 and she walked in.

8:46 it happened.

His name was called for his drink order and went up to the bar. He took the drink and thanked the barista. And when he turned around, there she was.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” she said after nearly bumping into him.

Oh her sweet, sweet voice. It sounded even better directed at him.

“It’s okay.” Was all he could manage to say, gesturing for her to walk past.

She ducked around him, and he caught her scent. It was warm and comforting like linen and lavender. So faint one could barely smell it, but it was there. It was her scent and he loved it. The twitch in his pants was undeniable.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee as he walked back to his table. He looked up once more but she was gone. Just like that. Looking outside, he spotted her walking to her car. She got into a white sedan and he sighed - tomorrow was Saturday and he wouldn’t get to see her.

He packed up his stuff, content with the progress he made and headed to his car. As he pulled out of the parking space and left, he found himself behind her car. It wouldn’t hurt to see where she lives…right?

1 month later…

Y/n POV

You are currently in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup as you take one last look in the mirror. You had a date with this guy off Bumble and were quite nervous. He seemed like such a catch that you prayed he would live up to it in person.

The doorbell rang and you went to answer it, smiling brightly.

“Wow…you look gorgeous,” he said, eyes wide.

“Thanks.” you blush. 

He drives you to the restaurant, making small talk the whole drive. You find out he has 3 younger brothers and an older sister and grew up in California. He was currently a lawyer but not stuck up like they are stereotyped to be.

“Reservation for Grant.” he says to the hostess.

The date was going great…until it wasn’t. You excused yourself to the bathroom before dessert and when you came back, you found him smiling and laughing with a waitress. He gave his phone to the waitress with a flirty smile and she took it, typing briefly before giving it back. 

You sigh, fighting back the tears threatening to fall - he wasn’t worth it.

“Please tell me that’s not your date…” A male voice says beside you.

You look over at the young handsome face before looking back. “Unfortunately.”

“What an ass. Doesn’t appreciate the beautiful girl he brought here.” he shakes his head.

You smile politely and then turn to leave but he grabs your arm softly.

“Hey…at least let me take you home.” he smiles, dimples visible.

“I’m okay.” you say.

“I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

“Isn’t that what a serial killer would say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” he shrugs. ”You don’t have to talk to me. You can call a friend and talk the whole way so she knows you made it safely.”

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” you squint your eyes.

“I don’t think so…” he says. “My name is Jeongin.”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.” 

“So can I take you home now? We can stop for ice cream.”

You smile with a blush. “Okay. But I need your social security number, and legal name to text my friend.”

“You got it.” 

You both laughed, exiting the restaurant and getting into his luxury sedan - way nicer than the lawyer’s company car.

Jeongin drove you about ten minutes away to an ice cream shop. He held the door open for you, as you two went in. He even shook off his jacket when you shivered from the chill inside. It smelled like him - earthy and clean but sexy. It was definitely something expensive.

“What’s your favorite flavor? Mine’s gotta be Mint Chocolate.” he asks.

“Me too!” You exclaim.

Unbeknownst to you, he already knew this. He had seen you buy it countless times.

“They have the best mint chocolate here,” he says. 

You both order a double scoop of mint chocolate and go sit outside on one of the benches. The two of you made small talk and got to know each other. And soon enough, hours had passed.

“I didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably get you home.” he says, standing. “Although I would love to stay and talk all night.”

You blush. “Yeah me too. But my roommate is probably wondering where I am.”

“Then we should get you home. I don’t want to make a bad impression with her.”

You giggle. “Thanks, Jeongin. You saved the night and I had a really great time. Better than I did with him.”

“I’m just glad I got the chance to see you all dolled up” he realized how they may have sounded. “I mean, you know because I don’t usually do fancy first dates…I keep it casual until it’s serious. Lowers the pressure, you know.”

You nod. “Yeah. I like that. So next time I won’t be so overdressed.” 

“Next time?”

“Yeah. Unless you didn’t want to-”

Before you can finish, he smashed his lips onto yours. You were stunned for a second before melting into it. Your hands were on his chest, his own slipping around your waist. Your legs nearly gave out but he pulled back.

“Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that like... all night.”

“No, um…don’t apologize.” You say, unable to look him in the eyes. Your stomach was flipping with butterflies.

“Shall we go?” He asks.

You follow him to the car and he takes your directions to your house. He walks you to the door, exchanging phone numbers, and waits for you to get in. Once you’re safely inside, he speeds off down the road. 

It takes nearly thirty minutes before he arrives at a group of townhomes. He goes up to one, knocking on the door.

Grant answers and Jeongin immediately punches him. “Stay the hell away from my girl. How dare you take her out and treat her like that.”

“The hell man? Who are you?” Grant says.

“Stop flirting with other girls on your dates.”

Grant looks up at him.

“Are you the reason Y/n bailed on me?”

Jeongin punches him again, knocking him to the ground. “Stay. Away. And keep her name out of your mouth..”

With that, Jeongin leaves.

Grant shakes his head, going inside to ice his jaw and delete your number.

Months had gone by and you were absolutely smitten with Jeongin. He really understood you - like no one else had. He learned quickly all the things you liked and disliked. He spoiled you, always surprising you with little gifts for every date. It felt like fate to find a man so attentive and detail-oriented.

“How do you know me so well?” you ask, laying on the couch in Jeongin’s lap.

“What do you mean?” he asks with a smile - that dimpled smile that makes you melt.

“Aren’t guys supposed to like…act nonchalant and forget things. And then the girl yells at him for not caring and he comes back with flowers and chocolates apologizing.”

“Is this your way of asking for flowers and chocolate?” He asks, booping your nose.

“No.” you swat his hand. “You’re not like that.”

“I know…I actually care. It’s shocking.”

“Shut up.” you swat his chest but he grabs your arm and kisses the top of your hand.

“You’re the forgetful one though…”

“I am not…” you pout.

“What’s my go-to order at Mama’s Noodles?” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“The um…the japchae.” you say with a nod.

“Nope. The Gochujang noodle. You owe me flowers and chocolate.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.

You sit up and look at him. He turns his head away from you and you roll your eyes. He’s such a big baby - your baby. You move to straddle his lap, pulling his arms apart and smiling mischievously.

“What about something better than flowers and chocolates?”

“What’s better than chocolate?” He asks as if that was a stupid question and pushes you off.

You scoff, surprised that it didn’t work. It always works. 

“You wound me. I’m going to bed.” he says with a hmph and stalks off.

You shake your head and get up to follow him. If he wants to play….you’ll entertain it for now.

Coming into his bedroom, you find him shirtless and laying across the bed on his back. His arms are over his face - probably to hide the smirk he had.

You stand in the doorway, calculating how you wanna play this. His bare chest and the way it moves as he breathes was driving heat to your core. You slip out of your clothes as quietly as you can and saunter over to him. 

You run your hands up his thighs and he tenses. One hand ghosts over his bulge and you swear he sucks in a breath. You hook your fingers in his waistband and begin pulling his pants and underwear down.

He was semi hard as you threw his pants to the side. Smirking, you take his cock in your hand and begin stroking. Looking up at him, you can see him biting his lip under his arms. You squeeze a little tighter as he grows harder at your touch.

You know he’s trying his absolute hardest to refrain from making any noises but that was one of the things you loved about him. You loved how vocal he was in bed, always groaning and moaning in your ear.

You kneel between his legs, taking his tip into your mouth. He hisses but keeps his arms covering his face. Okay, you like a challenge.

You take his length into your mouth, stroking what won’t fit with your hand. His body jerks, his cock fully hard and erect now. You bob your head, sucking hard and swirling your tongue around.

His breathing has picked up, but still not a peep from him. So you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock and then climb onto him. You move up his torso, watching him try to drop his smile. You take his arms and push them out to his sides. His eyes are closed, mouth twitching as he fights the urge to smirk.

You move a little further up, straddling his head. His eyes pop open as he looks up at you. 

You smirk down at him. “Still not better than chocolate?” 

He immediately moves his mouth closer, licking your folds as his hands grip your ass. He pushes you down onto him and begins devouring you.  He moans at your taste, the sound of him slurping filling the room. It’s so lewd but you can’t help but smile. You finally broke him.

You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he pushes you towards your high. One hand fists in his hair as the other rests on his chest behind you for support. His tongue prods at your fluttering hole, pushing you over the brink. You convulse, cumming into his mouth. He holds you in place, teasing your clit and prolonging your high with nudges of his nose.

You squirm in his hold as it becomes too much. Now, it was his turn to break you.

He pushed you off him, making you fall to the side with a squeal, and crawled over you. He smashed his lips onto yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck until he attached his lips to one of your nipples. Your hands fisted in his hair as he took a hand and slid two fingers into your tight heat.

“Innie…fuck…” you moan.

“I gotta take care of my girl… gotta ruin you for anyone else.” he says between nips along your neck.

You moan, knowing he already has.

He places his hands under your knees and pushes your legs up, bending down for one more taste. You gasp as he licks you once more and chuckles. 

“So sensitive, jagi” he teases.

He lines himself up and sinks into you with one fluid motion. Your eyes roll back as he fills you so deep. It’s like he was made just for you. He lets go of your legs, holding himself up as he thrusts into you. Your legs wrap around his waist, your nails dragging down his torso. He bit his lip, his hooded eyes looking hungrily at you.

“Jeongin…” you whine.

“I know….” he says, picking up the pace. 

He knew you liked it a little rough and was always eager to please. He bent down, sucking harshly at your nipples. Your grip on his upper arms tightened as you felt the coil inside about to snap. He knew your body so well - thrived off the way it reacted to him.

“Cum for me, jagiya. I know you’re close.” he says.

You whine, clenching around him as he slams into you. You cry out his name as you cum, the high washing over you. He peppers your face in kisses as he finally slows down his tempo. You come down from your high, eyes still squeezed shut.

He leans up, moving one of your legs so you’re on your side. He begins moving again, your knees to your chest allowing him to reach impossibly deeper. You moan as he leans down and kisses your arm. He grinds into you and you look up into his eyes.

He kisses you deeply before straightening up and thrusting harder. You moan out, one of your hands holding his while the other grips the sheets. His free hand holds your leg, holding you flush with him. 

You're lost in the feeling of him - in the drag of his veiny cock against your walls. He feels too good and you’re never going to get tired of it. How did you get so lucky?

His hand snakes between your legs and rubs your clit with a teasing amount of pressure. You buck your hips, trying to grind harder but he just lightens his pressure. You whine and he chuckles.

“What is it, jagiya? Hmm?” he asks condescendingly.

You whine. He knows what he’s doing. And he knows exactly what you want.

“Be a good girl and use your words…” He says, sliding his hand along your leg.

The loss of contact makes you pout your lip at him. “Innie…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Please…” you pant.

“Please what?”

Ughhh…why is he doing this….

“Please…harder…let me cum…”

He snaps his hips into you, fucking you so hard the skin clapping is all that can be heard. You’re sure his apartment neighbors could hear you two.

“How bad do you wanna cum, jagi?” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm….please…” you breathe…unable to form words.

You were cock drunk and he knew it. He loves you like this. He loved having this power over you. It made him feel like you would always be by his side. And you wanted that too. If he proposed, you would easily say yes.

“Cum for me, love.” He whispers in your ear.

The coil snaps and you cum hard. Your body trembles as you ride out the high. He doesn’t stop thrusting as you clench around him. His head is thrown back, groans leaving his smirked lips as he relishes in the feeling of you.

He was losing himself and you loved it. You slip off his cock and push him down, straddling him. You sink down on him and he swears he’s seeing stars. He wanted to drag it out but he was getting too close. And the way you were grinding and bouncing on him was not helping.

You circled your hips, clenching and relaxing to drive him crazy. His eyes were squeezed closed, his hands gripping the sheets. You raked your nails across his chest and stomach, tweaking his nipples.

“Ah,..jagi. Hajima…I’m not gonna last much longer…” he panted.

“Cum for me baby. Want you filling me up…” you say, bouncing on him.

His hands went to your hips, holding tightly. You could feel him twitching inside you and you knew he was gonna cum any second. You grind down on him as you lean forward and nip at his neck. You left little love bites, nipping at his sensitive spot.

He held your hips in place, stopping your movements as he came with a groan. His body convulsed beneath you and you clenched, milking him for every drop.

“Yes…want it all..” you say.

Between the feeling of his cum and his thumb’s pressure on your clit, your own release was triggered. He moved his thumb so strategically, prolonging your high. You weakly pushed at his hand and he chuckled, removing it.

You fell forward, your sweaty bodies flush together. You lay like this for a while - letting your breathing slow as you come down. His fingers were running through your hair, the other hand holding yours.

“I love you.” he whispers.

“I love you too.”

“This is always better than chocolate,” he adds.

“It better be.” you wink at him.

A few more moments of silence passed and you would have been asleep if your stomach wasn’t growling.

“Hungry?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Let’s get cleaned up and go get something. We could grab ice cream,” he says.

“Mint Chocolate?” you ask, popping your head up.

He nods and the two of you climb out of bed.

A few minutes later, you’re washed and headed out the door. He drives you to the nearest grocery store where you head inside and make a beeline for the freezer section. You scope out your favorite brand of ice cream and put it in the basket.

“I need some shaving stuff.” Jeongin says.

“Okay. I’m going to grab some milk for tomorrow.” you say. 

In the milk aisle, you slip past a man as you reach in and grab the brand you like.

“Y/n?”

You turn to see a familiar face. Oh..you know him. It starts with G….

“Grant…” he says, as if reading your mind.

“Right. Hi.” you smile.

“Hi. I just wanted to apologize about that night. It wasn’t me getting a girl’s number…well it was. But not in the way you probably thought. She was a photographer who needed a gig. I told her my sister was getting married and I offered to connect them.” He explained.

“Oh.” you say, blushing.

“Not that it mattered to your boyfriend at the time.” Grant huffs.

“What?” you furrow your brows.

“Your boyfriend. Although I was surprised he was mad about the girl and not you cheating. Then I just figured you two did the polyamorous thing. No judgement or anything.” Grant says with a shrug.

“What boyfriend?” you ask.

“Um…tall, dark hair. Asian…”

No…he couldn’t mean…

You pull your phone from your pocket and show him the lock screen of your Jeongin. “Him?”

“Yeah. That’s the guy.”

Your eyes go wide. You had just met him that night. 

“Why did you think he was my boyfriend? How did you even meet?”

“You bailed and he showed up at my house…” Grant says, confused. “He told me to stay away. That you were ‘his girl’. Punched me twice. Broke my damn nose.”

You just stared.

“Guessing you didn’t know this. My bad. I should go. Have a good night.” 

Grant walks off and you watch him. Fear courses through your veins. Hurt. Betrayal. 

How could the man that you loved - this perfect, wonderful man you wanted to marry - have done the things Grant says he did. Your mind is racing…and swirling… 

You panic, dropping the basket and hurrying towards the front of the store, checking aisles before you walk down them in the hopes of not running into him. You needed to get away from him. You needed time to think. 

You dial your roommate’s number, hoping she will pick up so she can rescue you. She answered on the second ring.

TAGLIST: @butterflydemons @readr1221 @thecutiepieme @sillygoosegoose @kaleigh-2002 @stvrrylove @iknow-uknow-leeknow @estella-novella @staytinyluv @galaxy4489 @motheraiya55 @gaby105-skz @thatgirlangelb @hxnnielk @bookswillfindyouaway @ihttinniee @writeuntilthebitterend @its-the-solar-system @rain-water-flowers

[prettyundeadgirl]

Tenderness Beneath Moonlight

gif made by me :)

Summary: Joel admires and loves you more than you know, and you are soon shown just how much he does after an unwitting awakening. Pairing: Jackson!Joel x Female Reader Word Count: 1.6k Tags: 18+ MDNI, smut, fingering (f!receiving), age gap (20+/61), fluff because I can't get enough of it, SO much kissing, no use of y/n A/N: First time writing for Joel... I like to think older him is a big softie when in love rather than rough and dominant, so if you share the same thoughts as me, then this fic is just for you!

AO3 | Masterlist

When you first arrived at the bonfire with Joel, it was at the hour when the sunlight had long since abated, and darkness lay over the outskirts of Jackson. The instilled routine of early sleep and awaking before the pale and placid sunrise, thanks to him, had made you weary before 8 o’clock. 

You should be in bed by now, wrapped in the cool linen sheets and within his arms, you thought, but instead you chose to fight the gnawing drowsiness and spend time with everyone.

Joel had noticed the feeble and subtle attempt to keep your half-mast eyes wide. In his lap, you leaned your tired little head between his shoulder and neck, breath fanning against his unbuttoned flannel. The air was tepid, a comforting warmth akin to Joel’s that you had sought during the harsh, bitter winters.

“You ready to go?” You heard him ask lowly, and you wandered, following the incoherence of his voice. It felt almost distant, like he was on the other side of the sweet smelling smoke that plumed from the blood orange crackling embers.

With a simple nod, Joel assisted you up, and you lazily waved goodnight to everyone before interlacing your fingers with his.

And in his room was where you languidly changed into your pajamas, his big shirt loose and hanging mid-thigh, and underneath were simple panties with a lace trim. Normally, you’d wear pants, but the summer heat proved far too unbearable throughout the night, and you found yourself slipping them off regardless.

Soon, you drifted into a peaceful slumber, and when Joel reached the doorway, his large, looming shadow cast over you and the wall. He looked longingly at your sleeping form and the curve of your hip where his hand would encompass.

He turned off the lights, getting into bed beside you with his body pressed against yours. Joel always had the mindset of wanting to keep you safe, even within a secure area, like a bird nestled under his wing.

Maybe he was slightly overprotective, but it wasn’t the toxic kind; it was vigilance and concern for your well-being. The sight of how small you looked when his large frame was beside yours made him want to protect you even more. Although you tried to remind him that you could take care of yourself, you certainly didn’t and rather relished in his protectiveness and instinct to take care of you so dearly.

Even in his room, bereft of any light, he could still make out the edge of your shirt that had pulled up and revealed far more than intended, and with your leg bent, it exposed a wider area of your skin.

Though his broad hands were calloused from years of work and survival, his touch was feather-soft as his finger trailed your upper arm, only a light press of his forefinger before the others followed down and fell to the curve of your hip.

He fidgeted with the edge of your shirt before lifting it further and slipping his fingers between the intricate lace of your panties. The ghost of his breath ebbed and flowed at the edge of your shoulder that was bathed in the moon’s hazy glow.

Joel would never do anything more than this while you were asleep, unless it was set in motion ahead of time, but even then, an uncertainty would underlie him. At most, he simply appreciated and admired your perfections, and the places you felt insecure about in the quiet enclosure of his room with light caresses on skin, fingers threading through splayed hair, and watching the way your torso would rise and fall, expand and contract until he, too, would fall fast asleep.

It grounded him, in a way, that you weren’t just some vivid hallucination he developed over the years, and that you wanted and cherished him just as much as he wanted and cherished you.

When Joel looked at his hands, he thought about what they had been forced to do to survive and reminded him of the man he was, but in those moments when he held onto yours or touched you, feeling the softness of your skin, unmarred–beautiful, he thought deeply about the man he wanted to be, not only for himself, but for you.

Ironically, you had woken up this time, very slowly, and you were still between the realm of dreams and reality when you felt his hand smooth over your ass. You turned your head to meet him, lashes aflutter as you stared into the dark shade of his eyes that reflected your face, features warped in his tender and loving gaze. 

God, the way he looked at you, saw you, it truly felt like no one ever had before him. When the two of you were together, you always felt like you were a mere breath away from crumbling beneath the weight of his gaze, no matter how much distance was set between you.

If not for time and its inevitable ticking, you might have wanted to remain under his admiration forever, yet you were still grateful that time had so gloriously eluded you both.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” You said, still coming back from your sleep with a small, weak smile. It barely took you a second to register the feeling of his hands and where it was, and oddly enough, that tiredness that once took a strong hold on you had dispersed and transformed into something else. A want. A need. You turned fully now to lie on your back, and he, with a slow, purposeful hand, reached to thumb your chin.

His thoughts remained inward for a moment, thinking of imparting a kiss upon rosebud lips and possibly all the ones to come after, but he didn’t want you to lose any sleep, and stirring you awake wasn’t his intention.

The back and forth flitting of his stare at your eyes told you everything. Your smile grew wider as you leaned into him, kissing with much fervor, and after a while, you felt him practically melt into you, savoring your taste as if it were the last he’d ever have.

Between the kiss, you heard him mumble, “Thought you were tired?”

“Not anymore.” You replied in haste, desperate to taste every inch of him. Your hands reached the edges of your panties, swiftly removing them without a second thought, and soon returned to grasp at his fragmented silver and brown hair. 

The only reason he departed was to remove your shirt, leaving you fully bare, and after a quick look into those seamless eyes, he reconnected. The sounds of his mouth against yours dissolved the quiet, and the delicacy of his kiss already made you feel like you were about to come undone.

You yield a stifled moan into his mouth, and his brows tightened as his hand reached your breast. You wanted him closer and you wanted him to go faster, but Joel would take his time caring for you and showing you just how much you meant to him.

He had begun leaving trails of kisses at the edge of your jaw, moving down to the hollow of your throat, which still had that delectable, lingering scent of perfume you had put on in the morning. Your collarbone and shoulder were laced with just as many kisses before he reached your breast and took your nipple fully into his mouth. You let out a choked moan, loving the way his tongue swirled against your warm skin.

The hand that played with your other breast trailed lightly down the grooves of your rib cage, and it sent unbidden goosebumps upon you, and soon his hand had fallen between your legs. When he felt how wet you already were, he smiled against you. 

“Joel…” You sighed, breathless, when he touched your sensitive clit. He started off very slowly, with a gentle press and tantalizing circling, until the pace quickened but only slightly, and in between long increments. It was sending you over the edge, and he returned once more to your mouth to stifle those pretty whimpers.

And with a strong grip on his arm, and being unable to kiss him back, he knew you had reached your climax, ever so slightly twitching beneath his persistent touch.

You breathed deeply through your nose, and your mind stilled at the warm press of his lips and the roughness of his moustache prickling against your skin. Again and again, the kiss deepened and receded like the foamy waves of a glistening ocean, and you elicited the softest of honeyed moans when you felt his middle finger enter you.

He wouldn’t stop kissing you, so eager and brimming with an undbridled, yet gentle passion, and the angle shifted, seeking something fuller. Another finger entered, and he broke away breathlessly from your swollen lips.

“That’s it.” He whispered, settling to the soft of your ear, the edge of his nose brushing your side. He coaxed you to find that pleasure in which you so desperately sought to feel again, hitting that sweet spot faster while he begged, “One more, baby,” until you were bucking your hips uncontrollably and left in that perfect state of bliss he was so easily able to put you in. 

With a gleam of wonderment and flushed cheeks, you looked up at him as you came down from your climax. You felt his bulge against your thigh, and you wanted to make him feel good, but Joel wanted you to get a full rest. He redressed you with such tenderness, pulling his shirt over you and placing a goodnight kiss on your forehead before enfolding you back into his arms.

You obliged with a gentle caress against his cheek and promised to return the favor in the morning.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Glimpse of Us

summary: routine became something finnick cherished. but course, the capitol must ruin everything, including his love. but he will still find a way to get her back.

finnick odair x fem!reader

content warnings for the whole story: descriptions of death, torture, starvation, and everything described in The Hunger Games, mentions of suicidal thoughts, implications of S/A

mood board + playlist

previous part | masterlist | next part

Chapter VIII

They don’t stop him from visiting.

Maybe it’s pity. Maybe it’s because Haymitch told them not to interfere. Maybe it’s because no one knows what else to do with him.

But no one says anything when Finnick shows up. Every day, from the moment he wakes up, he’s there.

The Recovery Wing is quieter than any other place in District 13. Too clean. Sterile. The air smells like antiseptic, but it’s the kind of sterile silence that doesn’t offer any peace. It clings to the back of his throat like saltwater that won’t wash away.

And then, there you are.

Always in the same place. Curled up on the thin hospital bed, your body buried under oversized blankets and clothes. They dressed you in the standard gray uniform, the same as everyone else, but it doesn’t fit right—too big, too loose. The fabric hangs off you like it doesn’t belong, like it’s swallowing you whole.

You’re awake sometimes. But even when your eyes flicker open, it’s like you’re not really here. Like your mind is miles away, and your body just hasn’t caught up yet.

Sometimes you sit up by yourself. Sometimes you let the nurses help you. But Finnick knows. He can tell when you’re too weak, too distant to care. And every single time his shadow crosses the threshold, you flinch. Every time his voice brushes against the air, your whole body tenses, like you’re waiting for something. Like you’re bracing for pain.

It’s that reaction that eats away at him. That’s the part that’s almost unbearable.

He spends most mornings in the chair by the wall, just out of reach. Close enough to watch your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, but far enough that you won’t notice him too much. Sometimes, he wonders if you even know he’s there at all.

He watches the rhythm of your breathing like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered.

In his lap, his hands work through knots. Tiny, shaky loops. His fingers ache, cramped from twisting the rope too tight, too fast. But it’s the only thing that helps him hold on to something.

Sometimes, he talks. Softly. So softly that he’s not even sure you can hear him.

He likes to believe you can. Even if he can’t see it in your eyes.

“Hey, Angel,” he whispers one afternoon, his voice barely rising above the silence in the room. “It’s morning again. The sun’s probably rising over Four right now, you know?”

His eyes drop to his hands, moving mechanically over the rope, watching it twist. “Mags would’ve made you tea by now. Annie would’ve shown up with one of those seashell bracelets she’s always making. You used to love those. You loved when she gave them to you. You wore them everywhere cause you said it was like having a piece of the ocean with you all the time. ”

He smiles softly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His throat tightens when he thinks of it. “You always said the mornings there smelled like salt and cold sand. Like the ocean was always just a breath away, even when we were indoors.”

Nothing.

His fingers tighten around the rope, pulling, twisting, knotting. He doesn’t even feel the burn in his muscles anymore.

“You hated it when I made fun of you for using too much sugar in your tea,” he adds, his voice so small, so fragile now, like it’s breaking with every word. But it’s the last thing he can remember—those mornings. That laughter. The warmth of it.

Still, there’s nothing.

The room stays as still as a tomb. The only sound is the faint, quiet echo of Finnick’s own voice in his ears, the only thing that feels real anymore.

The quiet is unbearable.

Every word he speaks seems to get lost in the air. It hangs there like smoke, slowly drifting away, just out of reach.

Finnick’s hands keep moving, the rope slipping through his fingers like time itself—too fast, too slow, a tangle of memories he can’t untie. He pulls tighter. Over, under, through, over, under, through. He does it until his fingers start to sting and the knots are so tight they almost seem to bite back.

He wants to speak more. He wants to remind you of everything. He wants to be the one to make it all come rushing back. But how do you remember someone when you don’t even remember yourself?

He glances at you again, his breath catching in his throat. There you are, lying there, eyes closed, but the softness in your face doesn’t reach your eyes. You look like you’re sleeping, but Finnick knows better. You’re not resting. You’re trapped in a place he can’t reach.

And that’s what kills him most of all.

It isn’t just that you’ve forgotten him. It’s that you’re still in there somewhere, lost. Somewhere inside that broken mind, there’s a part of you trying to claw your way back to the world, to him.

But it’s so far gone, buried under layers of pain, and Finnick doesn’t know how to bring you back to him.

He tries again.

“Do you remember...?” His voice is quiet, hesitant. He can’t bring himself to finish the question, the one that’s been gnawing at him for days. Do you remember us?

His throat tightens as he swallows the words, choking on them before they leave his mouth. He doesn’t know why he asked. Of course, you don’t remember. How could you?

Instead, he says something else. Something safer. “I remember when we first met. We didn’t talk much. Just shared a look. You were too shy, and scared—obviously. But you warmed up pretty quick."

He smiles bitterly at the memory. He remembers the way you’d shyly glance at him, your eyes full of questions you didn’t want to ask. The way you’d laugh under your breath when he’d say something under his breath about Lyssandra.

“Do you remember when I taught you to tie knots for the first time?” Finnick’s voice breaks, but he doesn’t stop. “It was after your games, I knew that your brain was probably think of a million things at one time. I wanted to give you something to do with your hands so you could turn your mind off for a little bit.”

He looks at you again. This time, you’re not sleeping. Your eyes are open, unfocused, staring off into some distant space. There’s no recognition. Just that vacant look he knows too well.

His heart clenches, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe.

You flinch when he shifts in his chair, and he recoils in kind, like he’s the one who’s been struck. His heart aches in a way he didn’t know it could. It feels like all the air has been sucked from his chest.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but silence again.

Then, you speak.

It’s quiet. A whisper that barely cuts through the weight of the room.

“I’m sorry...” Your voice cracks, so faint he almost doesn’t hear it. “I don’t... I don’t remember.”

Finnick closes his eyes, but the tears still slip through. He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t know how to be.

“I know,” he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. “I know you don’t.”

He doesn’t know how long he sits there after that. The room stretches on forever, stretching his pain with it, making everything feel endless.

Eventually, he stands. It feels like moving through mud, like he’s dragging his own body forward. Every step is harder than the last, each one heavier than before.

Before he leaves, he glances back at you one last time.

You’re still lying there. Your eyes have drifted closed again, but the stillness in the room makes Finnick feel like he’s suffocating.

And as he steps out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him, he finally lets the tears fall.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

The days blur together after that.

Finnick doesn’t know how many times he’s sat in that chair, or how many times he’s spoken to you. His words hang in the air like a forgotten song, like an echo fading before it’s even begun.

Every morning, he wakes up with a new sense of purpose, but by the time the day ends, it feels like he’s only ever going in circles. Around and around, through the same old routines, the same old words that lead to the same place: the chair by your bed, the silence, and the aching emptiness in his chest.

Some days are worse than others. Some days, the silence feels suffocating—like there’s a weight pressing against his chest, making it harder to breathe. Other days, there’s a flicker of hope, a sliver of light. The small moments where he swears he sees something in your eyes, some fragment of recognition, a spark that shouldn’t be there but is.

But every time he gets close, it vanishes. Just like everything else.

It’s the waiting that’s killing him. The waiting, and the feeling that he’s not allowed to be anything more than an observer in your life. He can’t reach you. He can’t save you. And every time he’s faced with that harsh reality, it feels like a part of him shatters all over again.

One afternoon, he finds himself standing by the window, staring out at the cold, gray wall. The weight of everything feels unbearable, like it’s pressing in from all sides, and Finnick knows that if he doesn’t find something to hold on to soon, he might just break.

His fingers drift toward the knot of rope in his pocket. It’s worn now, the edges fraying from all the hours he’s spent twisting it between his fingers, but it’s the only thing that keeps him grounded. The only thing that keeps him tethered to the world when everything else seems so far out of reach.

He pulls it out and begins to work the rope, his hands moving quickly, expertly. The knots are familiar now, automatic, like breathing. Over, under, through, over, under, through.

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

But even as his fingers work the rope, his mind drifts back to you. To the way you looked at him when he spoke, the way you flinched, like he was a stranger.

The memory claws at him.

Finnick exhales slowly, the air leaving his lungs in a broken, jagged breath. The tears are close now, but he swallows them back. He won’t let himself cry. Not yet. Not when he hasn’t even begun to figure out how to fix this.

He turns away from the window, eyes lingering on the door to your room. There’s a pull, an ache in his chest, and for a second, he’s sure he’s going to walk right back to you, sit in that chair again, and say the same words he always says. The same words that don’t reach you.

But then, he hears a voice in the hallway. A familiar voice.

“Finnick.”

He stiffens, his heart racing for a moment, before he recognizes it.

He turns, watching as Haymitch approaches, his expression unreadable. There’s a silence between them, thick and heavy, as if neither of them quite knows where to begin.

“You’ve been at it for days,” Haymitch says, his tone sharp but not unkind. “I’m not going to tell you what you’re doing is wrong, but it isn’t helping her either.”

Finnick opens his mouth to argue, but the words get caught in his throat. The truth stings too much.

“I’m not giving up on her,” he finally says, his voice hoarse.

Haymitch eyes him carefully, studying him. “I never thought you would.”

For a long moment, Finnick doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, the rope still clenched in his hands, his fingers stiff and aching from all the twisting and pulling. The words he wants to say don’t come. Not now, not yet.

“I just...I don’t know what to do,” Finnick mutters, his voice quiet, almost lost in the air between them. “Every time I think I might get through to her, it’s like...she’s still so far away.”

Haymitch nods slowly, his face softening just a little. “You’ve got to let her find her way back to you. And maybe it won’t be the way you want. But you can’t force it, Finnick. Not when she’s so broken. Not when everything is so...fragile.”

Finnick looks down at the knot in his hands, the tension in his chest growing tighter with every word.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know. But I’m afraid...that if I don’t keep trying, she won’t ever remember me. That she’ll forget what we had.”

Haymitch doesn’t say anything for a long time, and when he finally does, it’s just one quiet sentence.

“She’s not the only one who’s lost something.”

Finnick’s chest tightens at that. He looks at Haymitch, seeing something deeper in his eyes. Something that resonates with him in a way that nothing else has.

Haymitch’s words settle heavily around him, a reminder of everything Finnick has lost in the chaos of the war, of the Games, of the Capitol. Of the person he’s been before. Before the weight of his memories started to slip away, too.

Before he started losing parts of himself.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

Finnick doesn’t go back to his room that night.

Instead, he finds himself pacing the hallways, the silence of 13 pressing down on him like a weight he can’t shake off. His mind is a storm of conflicting thoughts, a thousand questions he can’t answer. What if she never remembers? What if all he’s doing is making things worse?

Everywhere he goes, he’s haunted by the echo of his own voice. By the quiet gap between the words he speaks to you and the silence you give back. It feels like a loss too big to understand, like a void that swallows him whole every time he thinks about it.

The walls seem to close in as he walks, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not yet.

He’s at the end of the hall when he hears it—soft footsteps behind him.

This time he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Finnick,” Haymitch says again, his voice low, the kind of voice that speaks without words. The kind that understands what’s happening without needing to say it.

Finnick doesn’t respond. He just keeps walking, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his eyes trained on the floor ahead.

“I know you’re struggling,” Haymitch continues, his voice gruff but not without care. “But there’s a line, you know? You’re going to drive yourself mad if you don’t start thinking about something else.”

Finnick stops, but only for a moment, his body stiff with the weight of Haymitch’s words. He presses his forehead against the cold wall, trying to steady himself.

“What do you want me to do, Haymitch?” His voice cracks, rough with the tension he can’t shake. “She’s in there, and she doesn’t even remember me. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I... how do I make her see me again?”

“You don’t.” Haymitch’s voice cuts through the quiet, harsh and direct. “Not all at once. You don’t get to make it happen. You have to let her come to you when she’s ready. She’s not the only one who’s broken here. You’ve got to remember that.”

Finnick turns, finally meeting Haymitch’s eyes. The older man looks as tired as he feels, his face worn down by everything they’ve been through. But there’s something else there—something that gives Finnick pause.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Finnick whispers, his chest aching with the weight of all his unanswered questions. “I’m not stupid, Haymitch. I know what’s happening. But every time I see her... I know she’s in there. I just can’t reach her. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

Haymitch steps closer, his face softening slightly. He places a hand on Finnick’s shoulder, giving him a rare moment of grounding.

“Then stop trying to be the one who saves her,” he says quietly. “You can’t fix everything. Not this time. Sometimes the only thing you can do is wait. Just... wait.”

Finnick swallows hard, his throat tight. For a long moment, he stands there, his hand gripping the rope in his pocket like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the present.

Finally, he nods.

“Alright,” he says softly. “I’ll wait.”

But as he steps away from Haymitch and walks back down the hall, a small part of him wonders how much longer he can keep this up. How much longer he can wait for a love that might never come back.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

The next morning, he’s back at your room, back in the same chair, watching you sleep—watching for any sign of movement, any hint that you might remember. He talks to you again, just like the day before, just like every day since they brought you back.

“Hey, Angel,” he whispers softly. “It’s me again. I know you probably don’t remember...but I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You shift a little in the bed, your eyes fluttering open. You blink at him, and for the briefest second, there’s something there. Something that flickers in your gaze, like a spark. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, and Finnick feels his heart sink again.

You’re not ready. Not yet.

He exhales a shaky breath and shifts in the chair, the knot of rope still in his hands. He runs his fingers over it absently, wishing it could anchor him to something solid, something real.

But it doesn’t.

“Do you remember...the beaches back home?” Finnick asks, voice barely above a whisper. “We would go all the time before...before everything happened. You loved the sound of the waves crashing. You said it felt like the world was breathing.”

Nothing.

“I still remember it,” he continues, his voice breaking on the words. “I still remember how your hair smelled like salt and the wind, how you smiled when I tried to teach you to fish.”

Your eyes don’t even flicker at the words. They stay blank. Vacant.

And for a moment, Finnick wonders if he’ll ever be enough. If he’ll ever be the one to bring you back from the dark.

But then—just as the silence settles back around them, thick and suffocating—he sees it.

Your hand shifts slightly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the blanket.

It’s so small, so faint, but it’s there.

For a second, Finnick dares to hope.

Maybe you’re not as far away as he thought.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll find your way back to him.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

The days stretch on, but Finnick is still there. Still waiting. Still speaking to you.

It’s almost like a ritual now—the mornings, the chair by your bed, the endless string of memories he whispers into the quiet. He talks to you like you can hear him, like you can understand. Like everything will fall back into place if he just keeps reminding you.

But it never works.

Not yet.

He shifts in his chair again, his hands shaking slightly as he touches the rope in his lap. The knots are tight, small, perfect. Each one he ties feels like a silent plea. Every twist of the rope is an attempt to anchor himself to something—anything—besides the ache that is becoming unbearable.

“Do you remember,” he asks gently, his voice trembling, “the first time we ever went to the beach?”

You blink slowly, not responding. Your gaze drifts past him, unfocused, lost somewhere far beyond the room. But Finnick doesn’t give up. He leans forward, his hands gripping the edge of the chair like it’s the only thing holding him together. His eyes never leave you.

“We went down to the water... you were wearing that white dress you loved so much.” He swallows, trying to steady his voice. “You remember that, don’t you? The one with the flowers? The one you always said made you feel like you could breathe again?”

He watches your face, looking for any sign—anything—of recognition.

But there’s nothing.

He tries again, pushing the words out like they’re his last chance. “You said it reminded you of the sea. That you’d never seen anything more beautiful than the way the waves shimmered in the sun. You said it was like the ocean was speaking to you, telling you secrets no one else could hear.”

He pauses, the silence swallowing him whole. It’s unbearable, and his heart aches with the weight of it.

“You always said,” he continues softly, his voice cracking as he forces the words out, “that you could hear the ocean calling your name.”

For a moment, he swears he sees something shift in your eyes. A flicker. A small change, but it’s there, almost imperceptible. Finnick’s heart skips.

He leans in closer, his breath catching in his throat.

“Do you remember?” he whispers urgently. “Do you remember that day? Do you remember us?”

But then, just as quickly as it comes, the spark fades. Your expression goes blank again, like a veil has descended, and Finnick’s hope crashes down, heavy and cold.

He leans back in the chair, his chest tight with the weight of disappointment. The knot in his hands trembles with the same frustration. He’s trying so hard. Harder than he’s ever tried for anything in his life, and yet it’s never enough.

The silence is deafening, and he feels like he’s drowning in it.

And then—before he can say anything else, before he can beg you to remember—the world shifts around him.

The air in the room seems to change, like the walls are closing in on him. The chair under him feels like it’s pulling him downward, and for a moment, he swears he’s falling into the past.

His fingers slip from the rope, and suddenly—just as the room begins to fade away—the sound of waves fills his ears.

The world around him softens, and he’s not in the sterile, white Recovery Wing anymore.

He’s back on the beach.

***

The air smells like salt and the earth, the waves crashing gently against the shore in a rhythm Finnick knows all too well. The sound wraps around him like a blanket, the familiar scent of the sea filling his lungs, grounding him in a time that feels both distant and close, like a dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

He’s standing on the beach, the sand cool beneath his bare feet, and the sun is still low on the horizon—casting everything in a golden haze. It’s the perfect morning. Quiet. Peaceful. Just the sound of the waves and the distant calls of seagulls. No worries. No Capitol. No war. Just the two of them.

You’re there beside him, standing at the water’s edge, the hem of your white dress fluttering in the wind. Your hair is tangled by the breeze, but you don’t mind. You never do. You’re smiling, and it’s the kind of smile that fills him with a warmth he can’t explain. The kind of smile that makes him think, This is it. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.

The sun catches the edge of your dress, the pale fabric dancing in the wind, and he can’t help but smile as he watches you. You’ve always had that way of moving, like the world was a little bit more beautiful when you were in it.

“You know,” you say, your voice light and teasing as you glance back at him, “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stand here. The waves keep pulling at my feet.”

Finnick chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer to you, the sand soft beneath his feet. He can hear the laughter in your voice, the sound that always brings him a sense of peace.

“You’re always complaining about the waves,” he says, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “But you never stop coming back to them.”

You tilt your head, looking out at the ocean with a faraway look in your eyes, the salt of the air catching on your lips. “I think the ocean speaks to me,” you murmur softly, almost as if the waves are the ones you’re talking to and not him. “It tells me things. Secrets no one else can hear.”

Finnick looks at you, his heart skipping a beat as he takes in the sincerity in your expression. You’ve always been like that, so deeply connected to the world around you. He wonders if you even realize how beautiful you are when you’re lost in your thoughts.

“Secrets?” he asks, a grin tugging at his lips. “What kind of secrets?”

You turn to face him fully now, your eyes sparkling with something he can’t quite place. The wind tugs at the edges of your dress, and for a moment, you look like you’re floating on air.

“The kind that make me feel like I belong here,” you say, your voice quiet but certain. “Like I belong with the ocean. With the sky. Like I’m part of something bigger than just... me.”

Finnick’s breath catches in his chest. The weight of your words settles over him like a quiet understanding, something deeper than just a passing moment. He doesn’t know why, but suddenly everything feels clearer. Like this moment is the one that’s been waiting for him all along.

He steps closer to you, his hand brushing against yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The world feels still. The sea. The sky. The sand beneath your feet. All of it is just... you. Just the two of you, lost in this moment, caught between time and space, with nothing else to worry about.

“You know,” Finnick says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper against the wind, “I don’t think I’ll ever hear the ocean the same way again. Not without thinking of you.”

You smile at him, that same soft, knowing smile that always made him feel like you held all the answers. “You’ll always hear it, Finnick. Even when we’re not here, when we’re not together. The ocean will always call your name.”

And then, as if by instinct, you reach for him. Your hand slides into his, fingers curling together with ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The waves crash at your feet, the sound so familiar it feels like home. You close your eyes for a moment, and he can’t help but pull you just a little closer, the warmth of your body against his, the salt of the sea lingering in the air.

Everything feels perfect. Unbreakable. Just for a moment, you are everything to him. The ocean. The sky. His entire world.

And in that instant, he knows with all his heart that he will never let you go.

***

The sound of the waves faded slowly, and suddenly the air in the room grows heavy once more. Finnick blinks, his vision blurring for a moment as the beach begins to slip away, replaced by the sterile white walls of the Recovery Wing.

His heart pounds in his chest as he comes back to the present, his fingers still trembling from the memory that lingers so clearly in his mind.

But it’s gone. It’s only a memory now.

He opens his eyes, and there you are—still lying in the same spot. The same hospital bed. The same quiet room.

And yet, somehow, he feels like he’s closer to you than he was before.

The memory lingers in Finnick’s chest like a weight he can’t shake off. The taste of salt on his lips, the feeling of your hand in his, the sound of your voice—soft and sure. All of it clings to him like an anchor, grounding him even when everything else feels adrift.

But as the last echoes of the waves fade away, Finnick’s heart aches with the knowledge that it’s just a memory. A moment in time that he can never fully reclaim.

He blinks a few times, the stark, sterile white walls of the Recovery Wing pulling him back into the present. The noise of the machines and the soft hum of the air vents return, and with them comes the crushing weight of everything he’s lost.

His fingers curl into fists around the rope in his lap, the knots still tight and perfect, but now they feel like shackles, tying him to the pain of the present.

You’re still there. Still lying in that bed, so close and yet so far away. His heart clenches, and for a moment, he wonders if the memory will ever be enough to bring you back to him.

He stands, his legs shaky as he moves towards your bed. His heart beats faster, thumping painfully against his ribs as he watches you, as he gets closer.

Your eyes are closed, but there’s a soft rise and fall to your chest. The air feels thick, heavy with the silence between you two. Finnick swallows hard, his throat tight with the words he can’t seem to say, the things he’s been holding onto for so long. He takes a shaky breath, forcing his hands to stay steady.

“I miss you,” he whispers softly, barely more than a breath. The words come unbidden, spilling out before he can stop them. “I miss you so much. I miss the way you looked at me, the way you smiled. I miss hearing you laugh.”

His fingers brush the edge of your blanket, but he doesn’t dare touch you. Not yet. Not until he knows if you’ll flinch away from him again.

“Please... I just need you to remember,” he murmurs, his voice breaking as the words catch in his throat. “I need you to come back. I can’t do this without you.”

The silence in the room feels suffocating, like it’s pressing in from all sides. He takes another step closer, but before he can say anything else, he hears it.

A soft sound. A faint shift from the bed.

His breath catches in his throat.

You stir, your eyelids fluttering, and for a moment, Finnick dares to hope.

And then, your eyes slowly open.

There’s a pause—just a beat—but it feels like eternity.

You blink up at him, and Finnick’s heart skips, his pulse racing as he watches you. For a second, just a second, he sees it. A flicker of recognition in your gaze. Something familiar, something so small, but so important.

He doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t dare move, his whole world narrowing down to the look in your eyes.

You blink again, your brow furrowing as you take him in.

And then, softly, so softly, you whisper, “You’re still here.”

The world holds its breath.

The words aren’t enough to bring everything back. They aren’t the words he’s been waiting for, the ones that will bring you back to him completely. But they’re something. They’re a sign.

Finnick’s heart cracks open, but there’s something else, too—something that feels like hope. He leans forward, holding onto that thread with everything he has, because you’re still here. You remember him. You remember something.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his voice steadier now, stronger. “I’m right here. I'll always be right here.”

And this time, he doesn’t wait for you to respond. He just stays, watching you, holding onto that spark.

Finnick doesn’t leave right away.

He stays, even when the silence grows thick between you both. His heart still beats faster, the pulse in his ears louder than the quiet hum of the room. You’re still here. You spoke. You remembered something. Even if it wasn’t enough, it’s more than he had a few minutes ago.

But it isn’t enough.

Not yet.

🌊 .·:*¨🌊🐚🌊¨*:·. 🌊

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. His legs ache from the stillness, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t dare. The small, fragile thread of hope that you’re still in there, somewhere, is enough to keep him tethered to the moment.

“Do you remember when we used to sit on the beach?” he says after a long while, his voice low, soft. It’s almost like he’s trying to speak to himself more than you, but he says it anyway. “You used to say the ocean called your name. You’d stand there with your feet in the water, your hands stretched out like you could catch the wind itself.”

He doesn’t know if you’re listening. He doesn’t know if you even care to hear the words. But he says them anyway, because they’re all he has.

“I still remember it,” he murmurs. “I remember the way the wind felt, the way the sun warmed your skin, the way you smiled when I asked you what the ocean was saying. I remember everything. I don’t care if you can’t yet. I’ll hold onto it for both of us.”

There’s a flicker in your eyes again. Maybe it’s just his wishful thinking, or maybe it’s the fading edge of some distant memory. But Finnick latches onto it, the small glimmer of hope growing brighter. It’s enough to make his heart ache and swell at the same time.

He leans forward, his hand reaching for the edge of your blanket, hovering there, but not touching. He doesn’t want to push you again. He’s learned that much.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

His fingers curl into the fabric, and for a moment, his mind drifts back to that day on the beach. The warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves. You, standing there like you could command the world with a single step.

It’s a memory he’ll never let go of. And as he watches you, as he waits for you to say something—anything—he realizes just how deep his feelings go. How deeply he’s willing to wait.

For you. For the person you used to be. For the person you’ll become again.

The silence stretches on, but it’s different now. It doesn’t feel suffocating. Not anymore. It’s a silence filled with possibility, with a fragile hope that maybe—just maybe—you’ll find your way back to him.

Finnick leans back in the chair, exhausted, but for the first time since he found you, he feels like he can breathe again. Even if it’s just a little bit.

And as he watches you, still so far away, he knows this is only the beginning. This is just the first step in what’s going to be a long, difficult road.

But he’ll walk it. He’ll walk it for you. And he won’t give up.

Not now. Not ever.

A/N: okay it's out everyone pls come back.

Taglist: @jacaeryslover @sundawn1990 @redama @noodleisodd @amara-mars @lovemyself-m-k @goosy-goose @potao-o @womenkisser05 @arsonistlizard @iguanagwen @lover-rep-fanfic@tatumrileyslover  @kimarii-00 @shuri-my-love @saleyeniu @succulent-ruler6 @aphxdea @humongousrunawaytiger @herbal-tea-and-manga @1i1winter @echoingrainydays @technicallyspookymoon @smthabsolutelyunhinged @yeah-idk-either @moon-zoons @shutendoji22 @thatoneamericanblonde @syd649 @curryexpress @harrypotterlovers-things @wonubby @212-apricity @anyaslittlepeanut @momoriii-i @milfslover2 @pluto-plutonium @xmochiloverx @wowlani @eyantice @suneaterscape @hanjelia @winx333-blog @lisaoligy

if you'd like to be included in this taglist lmk in the replies!

[cybermannete]

meow. - timothy timepiece. (smut.)

i need to fuck this catboy.

contains: smut, dominant reader, heavily submissive timothy, handjobs, a lot of "good kitty"s, timothy being a whiny bratty bottom.

You hated that damn clock.

It was an old clock your grandmother had. It was a family heirloom, and it freaked you out ever since you were a child. You remember being at your grandmother's house and crying every time you had to walk past it to go to the bathroom.

And surprise, surprise, when your grandmother died, guess who was given the clock? You. Your grandmother was a lovely woman, but when you opened the box with that damn cat clock with its moving eyes and tail, you swear you threw up in your mouth a little. Of course, you weren't going to ignore it and store it away to grab dust. Your grandmother would be ashamed. You ignored the clock, and you did your best to tune out the constant ticking of that clock.

You hated that damn clock.

When the Dateviators showed up to your front door, you were heavily debating if these things were even worth it. Come on, glasses that would bring alive your household objects?

Then you took one look at that clock and you were done for. Even when Timothy scolded you for being late, or he would whine and grab his tail like an impatient child, you would find yourself growing hot under the collar and having a small desire to pet him behind the ears and call him a good boy.

You hated that damn clock.

"No! No, no no!" Timothy's whiny voice exclaimed as you showed up late to have yet another conversation with him. His ear twitched and his nose scrunched up as he angrily gazed at his pocket watch. "I told you noon! I thought we agreed you'd show up at noon!"

You release a heavy sigh, rolling your eyes. "Timothy- It was just a minute late."

Timothy huffed and stomped his foot a bit, "A minute late might as well be an hour late! You were supposed to be here either ten minutes before or right on time!" He scolded, as he grabbed his tail in sheer anger. You noticed how his cheeks flushed red from exasperation.

You release another heavy sigh, already growing regret of this conversation. "Can you please just let this go this one time?" You ask, your voice laced with irritation at his childish antics. "It was just a minute. It's not like I didn't show up at all."

Again, Timothy stomped his foot, and he turned his nose up at you. "You might as well have not shown up!" You noticed how panicked he looked, like his entire schedule (or shhedule, as he liked to call it.) had been completely destroyed. You actually felt a bit of pity for him. "From the beginning I told you to make it to your appointments on time!"

You hated that damn clock.

"Okay. Okay." You whisper, holding up your hands in surrender, ultimately giving into Timothy's demands and his.. intense scheduling issues. ".. I'm sorry, alright? It was an accident. I won't do it again." You took a step forward, your hand cupping his face reassuringly as your thumb brushed over the whiskers on his face. You watched as he melted under your touch, his panicked expression turning into one of content. He made a happy whining sound that resonated in the back of his throat.

".. it's fine. Just don't do it again, okay?" Timothy answered, his lips pouting as he continued to push his cheek into your hand.

You couldn't resist toying with him even just for a little bit. A smirk quirked your lips as you reached your thumb out to brush along Timothy's lower lip. "But you're just so cute when you're all angry. All whiny and complaining."

Timothy's mouth opened a bit as your thumb brushed over his lip, and you could see the tiny point of his sharp canines poking out. It was adorable, really. "Stop it-" He huffed, grabbing his tail again. Your presence getting closer to Timothy caused him to back up against the wall. You had him right where you wanted him. Already he was blushing and whining like a brat.

"I thought you were a good kitty, Timothy.." Your voice cooed at him, causing him to grip his tail tighter out of nerves. You noticed how he trembled and bit back a whine as you called him a "good kitty". That was his weak point. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to lay sprawled in front of you and be good for you, his owner.

He huffed in defiance. "I am a good kitty! I always am!" His breath hitched as your lips made contact with his neck, ever so gently and sweetly. You were kissing underneath his jaw, on a particularly soft spot that made him bite his lip and tremble.

"Well your attitude's telling me otherwise, Timothy.. you're acting all defiant and acting like you're in charge." Your hand trailed along his dress pants, where you could feel just how tight they were getting. And there it was. His weakness.

You. How you cooed so perfectly into his ear, put him right in his place.

"I am not-!" Timothy exclaimed, whining as your fingers slipped down the waistband on his pants. His eyes were shut, almost like he was too embarrassed to look at what you were doing to him. Your fingers finally found his already pulsating, eager cock.

"You're eager, aren't you? Like a good kitty." You crooned, as your fingers gingerly wrapped around him. Timothy's body shuddered and he bit back a mewl.

"Th-This wasn't on my schedule." Timothy's voice was hoarse from struggling to keep himself quiet, as well as trying to prove a point to you.

"Well, sometimes schedules can be broken." You answer as your fingers made work of him, slowly pumping up and down. It was painfully slow, Timothy's eyes shutting and puffs of breath leaving his eager lips. You lean in close to his ear, kissing the shell of it and murmuring. "There you go.."

Your hand's speed picked up, Timothy's claw-like fingers clutching the wall behind him in both agony from how slow you were going, as well as restraint from pouncing on you. But yet, he knew that at the end of the day, he was at your mercy.

"Come onnn..!" Timothy whined, rolling his hips up into your hand. "Please.. I've been a good kitty, right? I-I'm a good kitty."

You shook your head, Timothy crying out from losing his patience. "No no.. I don't think you've earned it yet, Timothy.." Your hand slows again, and Timothy cries and stamps his foot.

You loved that damn clock.

[yasministration]

one of your girls - marlene mckinnon

summary: you and marlene have summer flings. every summer. but when you break up with your boyfriend so that the next summer you can have a fling with her again, you realise your feelings for her may be deeper than you think... wc: 2222!!! cw: kind of internalised homophobia, kissing, a little angsty

The night is still young when you find yourself waiting outside Marlene’s door, heart thumping against your chest, emotions sprinting through your veins without having even seen her yet. But Marlene isn’t the one to open the door. A man with curly black hair stands in front of you, a comfortable smile on his face. He has tattoos on his arms, you notice, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you were staring.

“I didn’t realise Marlene had people over.” Your voice is liquid smooth, not a hint of shyness in front of the stranger. “Oh, no worries, do you want to come in?” Sirius asks, jerking a thumb in the direction of the house, where you can hear loud laughs and chatter between friends. That would be intruding. Shaking your head, you step off the doormat, looking back down the street. Your legs are starting to feel cold now. The black dress you wore had only been for Marlene, hoping she'd whisk you into her room, but Sirius glances down at your exposed legs anyway. You don’t want his gaze on you, just hers.

“Tell Marlene I passed by.”

Sirius nods, asking “Uh- what’s your name?” The corners of your lips tug upwards into a smile. You’re proud of the words that tumble out of your mouth next. “Don’t worry about it, she’ll know.” And with that, you spin on your heels, hearing the soft click of the door shutting behind you.

Kicking at the gravel beneath your feet, you sigh softly, making your way back home. But you haven’t made it far when you hear fast footsteps behind you, a familiar voice calling out your name. Turning around, you hate the fact that Marlene’s mere presence has a smile tugging at your lips.

“Hey, you.” She pants, snaking her arms around your waist to tug you into a hug. Humming in satisfaction, you bring your arms over Marlene’s shoulders. The two of you stand like that, in the middle of the street, sharply struck by the night’s cold air. “When Sirius told me a charming lady outside wanted me to know she’d come by, I knew it could only be you.” You feel a giggle escape you at the description Marlene’s friend have given her, and you let her pull away from you, instead holding your hand in hers.

“Come in for a bit.” She pleads quietly, and you shrug, unsure. “I don’t want to intrude.” Marlene scoffs, saying something you can’t make out, but she guides you back to her house anyway. You’re relieved that the house is warm inside, the chills on your arms instantly calming down when she slings a careless arm over your shoulder, leading you to her living room.

There’s less people than you thought there were, but it’s still a crowd, and you feel out of place as Marlene introduces you by your name and nothing else. No label. You recognise the faces around you from pictures Marlene has shown you, connecting them to the countless stories she has recalled. A display of confidence ends you on the couch next to Marlene, who hands you her butterbeer without hesitation, her arm still around you, warmth seeping into your skin from her touch.

The bottle is half empty, and the tinted chapstick Marlene wears stains its rim, but you bring it up to your lips anyway as conversation around you resumes. Marlene leans in closer to you, lips grazing your ear as she tells you “You let me know if you need anything, okay?” And you nod absentmindedly, just happy to be in her presence.

You’d missed her more than usual this year, just waiting for summer to roll around again so you could be with her, locked up in her bedroom for long movie nights, swimming in lakes where Marlene shamelessly kissed you, hands wandering under your bikini. It was the small moments that made her special, though. Like the way she trained her eyes on the side of your face when you did something, a soft hand brushing your waistline just to stay close to you.

Marlene would always be special to you. You were each other’s firsts — for everything. And while life drove you to different countries for school, and you went on, meeting new friends, new partners, summers always brought you back together. Whether you chose it or not. And, to be fair, you did. Marlene just didn’t know it.

Someone hands you a cigarette, and you thank them, the room’s atmosphere flooding you with comfort. As you take a long drag from the cigarette, Marlene watches you with a soft smile. You offer her the cigarette, and she leans in, wrapping her lips around it while still in your hands. It doesn’t go missed by her friends. Not by Lily and James, who sit next to each other on the rug, knees touching. Not by Sirius, who’d been so intrigued by you, nor Remus, who could hear both of your beating hearts, racing just for each other.

You’re watching all her friends, occasionally watching you, and you sigh. Despite Marlene knowing you for years on end, they’ve probably never heard of you before. That gives you something to wallow about at home. Straightening up, you lean over to place the bottle of butterbeer on the table, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray. Standing up, you say “I should probably go, it was nice to meet you guys.”

Your voice really is charming, but Lily can tell that something is bothering you. Something they probably don’t know you well enough to understand.

“Leaving without a kiss?” Marlene’s voice silences everyone in the room as she jumps up to follow you. Clearly, her friends aren’t the only ones surprised by her words. Your mouth parts, but you are too stunned to speak. You didn’t know. That her friends knew. That she was open like that. But instead of facing the humiliation of looking at her friends again, you make your way to the door with Marlene on your heels.

Instead of immediately leaving though, you spin around to face her again, your breath hitching at the realisation of how close to you she was standing. But before she can kiss you, her lips only inches away from yours, you speak, words sheepish as they leave your mouth. “I didn’t know you were open about your sexuality with your friends like that.”

Marlene almost frowns. She knows you aren’t. She knows that not even your closest friend is aware of your sexuality. She feels sorry for you in that sense, but she won’t bring up that conversation. Not after the argument that followed it last time. Not when she realised how ashamed you'd been of liking a woman — liking her. “I’m open about my sexuality with everyone.” She chuckles nervously, gathering her blonde hair at the back of her head in a make shift bun before letting it all go. She’s hyperaware that you’re both close enough to the living room that Remus can probably hear everything you’re saying.

“I’m somewhat of a womaniser at Hogwarts.” You nod, your mind obviously running overtime. “What’s wrong?” Marlene asks, reaching a hand up to brush your hair back. Shaking your head frantically, you chirp up “Nothing’s wrong!” But the pitch of your voice increases uncomfortably, and Marlene nods, entirely unconvinced.

“I-” Marlene glances at you hopefully as you speak up, wishing you would finally open up to her. Despite years of summer flings, only pausing as you return to school, Marlene knows you’ve hidden things from her. About your relationships, your sexuality. She wonders if you’ve ever dated a girl, and if you did, was it all sneaking around too? Were you scared of your relationship being out just like you were with this one? This relationship, which she had just exposed to her closest friends?

“Never mind, it’s dumb.” You interrupt yourself. Marlene’s hand moves to rest on your waist and she looks at you so deeply you have to break eye contact with her. “Baby, nothing you say could be dumb.” You almost melt at the nickname, but you’re rethinking your entire relationship with Marlene knowing that she’s a womaniser.

Did you ever mean anything to her at all?

Or were you just another one of her girls?

She leans in closer to you, mumbling in your ear, “If you tell me I’ll make it two goodbye kisses instead of one.” And your charming personality instantly returns as you tell her “You couldn’t resist not giving me two if you tried, Mckinnon.”

“Three, then.”

“Okay, but this one doesn’t count.” You insist, one hand closing around her jumper, pulling her towards you to press your lips against hers. Marlene smiles in the kiss, and you can’t help but giggle, one of your hands cupping her cheek to deepen the kiss. When the kiss breaks, you press your foreheads together, grins on both your faces. “I like this dress on you.” Marlene mumbles, toying with its smooth fabric.

“I broke up with my boyfriend for you.” You blurt out, louder than you intended, and Marlene’s head snaps up to look at you as you suddenly increase the distance between you, stopping only when your back lays against the front door. “We got together in October until like, a month ago. I couldn’t go a summer without you, and I’m not a cheater, but I-I know it’s unfair that I was with him when I was never really over you and we were never really together anyway but-”

“You broke up with your boyfriend for me.” Marlene echoed, incredulous. You broke up with someone for her. “Does that mean you’d actually date me?” She asked. You didn’t bother asking what she meant by that; you both knew you’d never seriously dated a woman. But no woman had ever done so much as compete with her.

“But I don’t want to be just another one of your girls.” The house is silent, Marlene now realises. She nudges you out of the front door, following you out before closing the door behind her. “You were never just one girl. You’ve always been my girl. I’d cross oceans for you.” Marlene smiles softly at the way your eyes light up with hope, but she still has a wrenching feeling in her gut, and the smile falls from her face,

“But, I don’t want to be with someone who’s ashamed of being seen with me. I understand if you don’t want your parents to know, but -” “I told my friends.” Marlene’s eyes widen with a pleasant sort of surprise. “Well, not all of them. But I told Carla and Devon. About me. About you.”

It’s a step, Marlene decides.

She thought you’d take your sexuality and relationship with you to the grave. So this is more than she expected. Marlene reaches a hand to the side of your neck, thumb caressing your silky skin as she leans in, bringing you in a slow kiss. With her free arm, Marlene drags you closer to her, hand pressed against your lower back, fingers splayed across its surface.

You both part your lips, tongues meeting in the midst of the kiss. Marlene greedily kisses you, tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. She’s eager, desperate, and you almost can’t keep up with her pace. You’ve never felt her like this, but you don’t mind. A whine pushes past your lips and Marlene eagerly claims the sound as hers.

You’re both panting when she pulls away, cheeks flushed hotly. “That didn’t count as one of the three.” Marlene decides, pulling you in again for a short kiss. You push her away from you, and Marlene frowns. “Why’d you waste it like that?” She asks, and you laugh.

“Will you come find me tomorrow?” “Love, I know where you live, I don’t have to find you.” Rolling your eyes, you shove the girl away from you, beginning to walk down the street. She quickly yanks you back into her, expelling a squeal from your throat, letting go of the tight grip on your wrist as she wraps her arms around your torso, your back to her chest.

“What happened to the other two kisses?” She mumbles, leaning down to kiss you across your jaw and neck. Spinning in her arms, you tilt your head up to briefly peck her lips once. Then twice. Marlene attempts to deepen them both. She’s unsuccessful. “That was so unfair.” She complains, but you fight yourself out of her grip with a loud giggle, trotting along the road as you call back “Come get more tomorrow!”

Marlene can’t help but smile to herself as watches you skip down the street until you reach your house. Everyone is still quiet as she walks back into her own home, but at the sight of her rosy cheeks and wide grin, they all immediately bursts into a fit of questions and comments.

“Will you finally explain what the hell that was!?”

“How does a single girl have you wrapped up so tightly around her finger?”

“So why haven’t you told us about this girlfriend of yours?”

“Listening to that flirting was absolutely painful.”

Marlene is happy to answer anything they wanted to ask.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus,  @pain-in-the-ashe,  @hiireadstuff,  @superlegend216,  @treefairy-28,  @kitkatkl,  @rory-cakes, @juliet-f017,  @fl0weryannie,  @tiaajosephin,  @why-am-i-like-this18,  @theoraekenslover,  @animalcrossingshameless,  @azure-drag0ness,  @dream-alittlebiggerdarling,  @dearlizzies,  @matcha-kitty13,  @thenasoneshots,  @cakiebleh,  @slytherin-princess-x,  @daydreamandforget,  @bxuzi,  @dlljdhsh,  @5sospenguinqueen,  @aouoo,  @spider–girl,  @fandomhoe101,  @user010380,  @simp-for-fiction,  @selenewowww,  @paytonluvxx

[bewitched-hours]

Hello there ! first of al you are realy cool writet:D

and second of all can l have small request so l have idea fantasy!forsaken /Yan!azuretime ×lapis lazuli reader like reader is a water gem robloxian and live in water towers whit their kind and azure and two time meet whit them by accident and fall in love whit reader (reader have same traumas like lapis lazuli)

Gonna be honest, I genuinely had trouble reading this but I'll still happily do it! And thanks for the compliment! I love Steven Universe so this is gonna be a lot of fun!

Reader gets She/Her-

Being a gem was never easy.

Sure, your kind were adored for keeping this world in such great condition and bringing balance to the elements but...

Sometimes it got overwhelming.

That's why you preferred your time in the water towers you made with your fellow water gems. You could hide from the public there and relax... Usually.

Hell, you didn't even mind the occasional visitors if they were being polite but maybe that's why you ended up in a mirror.

No... Who were you kidding... You had no fault in this.

It was all the gem war that started this. A war where all of gemkind were wrapped into the chaos and had to choose between fighting and fleeing.

But you took too long to choose and ended up sealed into your gem form to be put into a mirror and show the holder whatever they want from a moment in history.

You never forgot... And you wanted out...

You've been held by many people, told to show them different points in time which forced you to relive those memories even if you weren't apart of them initially.

You figured you could finally rest when you were hidden away from prying eyes and left in darkness after a crack in your gem messed with your abilities. They finally grew tired of you not functioning and left you to rot in your own abyss...

Naturally, it was a shock to see another face again. Much less that of a regular robloxian.

You were confused at first, trying to figure out how much time had passed as they called out to someone to take a better look at your current form.

They creeped you out a bit but you'd take any chance for freedom you could get. You just had to wait and spend enough time with them to hopefully form your own sentences to communicate.

You fortunately- or unfortunately- knew you couldn't access the long-forgotten history anymore. There was no more torture but also no way to call for help because you just knew if you had called for help when you could, those who knew would've only punished you for being unruly.

"Azure! Come look at this!" Two Time called out as they held your prison of polished silver with a reflective metal framed with turtle shell and gold. Back in the times where this mirror was made, it could've sold for a lot. It gave you an odd sense of pride back then.

Another face came into view before both of them seemed to admire your little prison... If only they knew...

Regardless, you were patient. You watched whatever the mirror allowed you to see as they took you away and brought you to a small cabin by the ocean.

Although they didn't place you in a way where you could see the waves, hearing them was just as comfortable as you allowed them to inspect your gem.

"I wonder what happened..." Azure muttered.

Oh, you would've happily shown them the war that happened after robloxians got a little too greedy and decided to spark a war between gems... But alas...

"Well, we could try to get it out but it seems stuck pretty deep... It would sell better after being repaired." Two Time's words stuck to you like a needle. They didn't know you were alive but thinking of being sold was... Unpleasant...

It was over the span of the next few days where you could capture enough from them to start your plan.

It started small, grabbing their attention by butting into their conversation with a suggestion you picked up from Azure, using their own morning greetings to wish them a good morning, that stuff.

Once they actually began talking to you did things go quicker.

They'd learn fast that you can only repeat back what they've indirectly taught you and they tried to use that to figure out more about you. It wasn't too surprising but you've been able to explain you were the gem on the back of the mirror and that you needed to be freed.

You promised them you'd do anything for your freedom and they agreed to talk about your end of the deal once you were out. You couldn't thank them enough for it.

Maybe you should've never asked them in the first place. Just stay quiet and wait for another century or two. It would've been easy.

But no, you were too eager to move again.

The real story started when they finally got you out. They somehow managed to put in enough force but still be as careful as ever when they pulled you out and you were able to reform. You didn't have any pupils because your gem was still cracked so your eyes were a little more reflective.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" You practically rushed to see them up close and show them your gratitude. "I-I can finally move! I can see freely!"

You spun around and materialized your water wings to make sure your gem was still properly intact.

But you didn't forget your end of the deal.

"What can I do to show my gratitude?" You smiled softly, not realizing they had both been mesmerized by your beauty and quietly agreed on something while you had been spinning and looking at the stars.

"We want you to stay with us." Were the words that sealed your fate. Innocent at first glance and you were too overwhelmed with the feeling of freedom to really deny.

With a simple handshake, your fate was sealed and you were effectively bound to them until the day they'd die.

You could still be around the cabin and play with the water like you used to but they were patient in showing you why they wanted you to stay with them.

From the moment they laid their eyes on you, it was an obsession. They wanted to be the only ones admiring your beauty and gentle nature but they didn't want you to get scared or lose your smile.

It started with convincing you that you would be taken away and tortured if you were found out along with some convenient coincidences where strangers were being pushy with you and they stepped in to protect you... It just helped that you had a more timid nature with strangers now that you were out and vulnerable again.

Then it evolved into little affectionate gestures and convincing you they wanted to make you feel safe and comfortable even though you couldn't figure out where other gems were.

Eventually they even had you convinced that any gems spotted were crushed and turned into jewelry, which further aided in keeping you dependant on them.

It was through all that, all their work, that eventually got them to their goal when you confessed you've felt a strong draw to them and they were quick to reciprocate. It made your heart flutter and you never once considered questioning them, making their prepared excuses for nothing.

Although, you could've sworn that they'd whisper about their obsession with you whenever you dozed off... But they'd always tell you you must be hearing things...

If anyone picked up on the fact I used a mirror specifically from medieval times in this, you get a cookie (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[corrcdedcoffin]

Put Your Head on My Shoulder - JJ Maybank

frenemies(?) to friends jj maybank x reader

request: no

summary: you and jj are banned from being alone together after you trying to injure him. but one day, he shows up on your front step and breaks down.

warnings: 18+, small acts of violence? (reader throws things) descriptions of a panic attack (nothing crazy tho), hurt/comfort fic, happy ending, fluff, enemies to friends trope

word count: 1.8k

You didn't necessarily hate JJ, but for the longest time you didn't exactly like him. He was loud, crude, smoked too much weed and drank too many beers, and he never took anything seriously. Ever.

It wasn't something you'd expressed to everyone, but they could tell that you weren't exactly his number one fan. That being said, you did have some fun times with him. When he wasn't trying too hard, you thought he was quite funny, maybe even a little charming, though you'd never admit it.

Most of the time he made you roll your eyes in annoyance, or occasionally you'd tell him to fuck off and shut up. JJ always took it as an invitation to fuck around even more, particularly to get a rise out of you. He reminded you of an annoying kid in your second grade class, always getting sent to the office or the hall for being a disturbance. Chasing everyone around during recess and thinking they enjoyed it (when they clearly didn't). 

It was agreed upon the group that the two of you were not to be left alone after you threw rocks at him in retaliation to him pestering you all day once. You were thankful for that, truly. 

You'd all shown up at John B's with no plan, as you usually do, but were quickly forced to find something else to do. John B and Sarah said they had a date day planned and couldn't hang out, and it wasn't long after they left that Kiara had been called to help at The Wreck, leaving with an eye roll and a warning to play nice, or else. Pope never even showed up, so it was obvious he got stuck working. That left you and JJ. 

It wasn't your ideal situation, but it wasn't like he was some monster. He couldn't be that bad one on one, right? 

Wrong. 

You went for ice cream, and he made a bigger mess than the literal children there. His hands were a sticky mess, the table, napkins everywhere, and he did not. stop. talking. 

After ice cream, he begged you to stop at the corner store for snacks. You went in and selected your few, and couldn't help the scoff you let out after seeing JJ ogle the cashier. You weren't jealous, absolutely not, but you did briefly wonder what it'd be like to be desired by JJ Maybank. It was cut short when the sound of a crash made you jump. 

JJ was on the floor, a display rack of candy and chips knocked down and spread out next to him. 

"Fucking idiot" you muttered as you began to clean it up, JJ sheepishly helping.

Then, you'd gone back to John B's house (JJ's request), and lounged under the big tree for the rest of the day. It was nice, until JJ started talking and didn't stop (again), then throwing candies at you when you didn't answer, and then twigs when you still didn't answer. 

John B, Sarah and Kiara all showed up to you chasing JJ with a handful of rocks, throwing them at him as hard as you could. The rule was put in place right then and there, and for months, it helped. You were thankful to not have to spend a minute alone with him ever again. 

Except for right now. JJ Maybank was on your front steps in the early hours of the night.

"What?" was all you asked as you opened the door for him, staring expectantly. What the hell could he possibly want?

"Have you heard from John B?"

"No, why?"

"What about Pope? Or Kie o-or even Sarah?"

There was something off about him. He was dishevelled: the neck of his shirt was stretched out, there was a few rips in it, his hair was messier than usual - not in the casual 'i just woke up' way he always has, and he had a frantic look in his eye. Something you couldn't really decipher.

"No, I think they're working. And I don't know about Sarah and John B, probably on a date" you shrugged. "Are you good?"

You knew he wouldn't answer truthfully, but you weren't gonna be a dick and ignore his obvious distress.

JJ laughed maniacally. "Of course! I'm great! On top of the fucking world, thanks for asking! Would be super stellar if my fucking friends would answer their phones."

You pursed your lips as you silently observed him, choosing not to take offence at not being considered a friend of his. You weren't entirely sure you'd call him a friend either. His lower lip had a cut that was fresh, pried open once more in his outburst; bright red and pink all around. His left cheek was also a bit red, starting to look a little purple.

"You sure?"

If looks could kill, he'd have chopped you in half just then. "Yes, I'm sure! I just need— I need-" he stopped, hand gripping his chest and rubbing as if he couldn't catch his breath. He crouched down, taking sharp shallow inhales.

Your eyes went wide before you snapped into action.

Helping him lean back against the porch wall, you crouched in front of him and placed a hand over the one on his chest, the other on his shoulder. "Okay, it's alright" you spoke calmly. He'd never heard you sound so gentle.

"I know it hurts, but I need you to focus on my voice."

"I can't" he choked out, eyes shut tight, hand subconsciously gripping onto yours in attempt to ground himself.

"Yes you can. I need you to take a deep breath, and don't let it out until I tell you to, okay?"

He gripped your hand even harder, looking up at you, silently pleading for help. It made your heart twist. You may not have been the best of friends, but there was something about seeing him like this that made you.. hurt. You hurt for him, and with him.

"In," you continued, taking a breath with him. "Now let it out."

His breath was shaky, but his eyes didn't leave yours. Not even after the fourth breath when you reached down for his other hand and started lightly squeezing in rhythm with your breathing, thumb rubbing gently across the back of his hand.

JJ was trying as hard as he could to ignore the feeling of his chest caving in, and focus on you instead. The way you held onto him tight, how you looked so concerned. Were you worried about him?

He found it easy to focus on you. 

You watched as he went from an anxious ball of fear to being able to control his breathing again, muttering soft words of encouragement as he slowly regained his composure. You took the breaths with him, acting as a guide and not letting him stray from the instructions. You weren't sure how long it took, but the sky was nearly fully dark and it seemed awfully quiet out.

JJ pulled his hand away from his chest, and you began to remove your hands from his grip. "Don't, please. Not yet" he swallowed harshly.

You nodded silently, shuffling over to sit next to him instead, back resting against the porch wall, shoulders touching. He kept your hand in a firm grip, squeezing every so often with a deep breath.

"What was that?"

"Panic attack," you stated, nodding your head slightly.

"Huh. How did you know what to do?"

You stared blankly for a moment before responding. "I used to get them a while back, when my mom was in the hospital. My dad said she used to get them too, and that's what he'd do to calm her down. And for me."

JJ nodded, giving your hand a light squeeze.

It was strange to be here with him. You knew you were his last option; it didn't bother you, but to have him so close and in a vulnerable state like so, it felt like almost like a privilege to be by his side.

You always thought of him as arrogant and crass, when really he's just as fragile as you, or anyone else. It wasn't a secret that his home life was troubled, but before this you'd always thought he was invincible in a way. That nothing affected him.

It was silent for a long time as the two of you sat there, holding hands. JJ was glad you didn't pester him about it, wondering why he freaked out or offering solutions and unsolicited advice. You let him play with your fingers, examining your nail polish and your rings, then your bracelets.

"Thank you" he spoke quietly, finally building up the courage to look at you.

You turned to him, expression almost unreadable and gave him a nod. "S'what friends are for, right?" you smiled lightly.

Huh, friends, he thought. He didn't not like the sound of it.

Things were different after that.

What used to be arguments between you two turned into playful banter. You started spending more time together in small groups, then eventually one on one. Turns out you had more in common than either one of you ever thought.

The others noticed your blossoming friendship. It was slow, calm, and it seemed to patch a hole in your hearts that neither of you knew was there.

For a while you tiptoed around each other, going through a phase of politeness before being comfortable treating each other like the rest of the group. You learned more about him bit by bit. Whenever he had that feeling in his chest, he'd come straight to you, no matter where you were. He found comfort in you. 

It was easy for him to talk to you, surprisingly. He found himself telling you things he'd never said aloud, not even to John B.

He liked to study you, too. 

You were rowdy and wild around your friends, and very quiet around people you didn't know or like. You were a good listener, and never ever offered unwarranted advice; always making sure people's feelings were validated and understood. 

You snort when you laugh, and you always cough when you smoke, no matter what. You became the champ at shot-gunning beers, and he thought it was funny when you made yourself a crown out of beer cans. 

When you were nervous or anxious, you pressed your thumbs really hard. 

JJ felt a sense of responsibility to help you the way you help him, and you appreciated it. The way he'd place himself in front of you slightly around people who made you uncomfortable, and how he'd gently rub his knuckles on the back of your arm to let you know he was there with you, ready to bail whenever you said the words.

Life wasn't perfect on the cut, but as you got off the H.M.S Pogue at the chateau after a long day of swimming and smoking, taking JJs extended hand from the dock: the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye told you that none of it mattered as long as your friends were by your side.

And you were glad he was one of them.

don't be shy, reblog!

[abbotty]

I Wanna Love You (But I Don't) | TEASER

SYNOPSIS. After 5 years spent with Jack Abbot, you've come to the conclusion that you'd be better off apart. After all, what good is a loveless marriage? Now, with the divorce papers signed, there's only one thing keeping you tied to Jack: your three year old son Adam. In order to protect Adam and yourself from the scrutiny of Jack's family, you and Jack decide to keep the divorce a secret until the 4th of July week spent with the Abbot family is over. A week spent in a cabin trying to convince everyone that yourself and Jack are still in love... what could possibly go wrong?

It felt wrong sitting in front of Jack, a tense silence resting heavy between you, only broken by the tick-tick-tick of the analog clock hanging on the wall.

Jack wouldn’t look at you, his eyes trained solely on the small stack of papers on the table between you. He was doing that thing - digging his thumb into the meat of his right thigh. The pain grounded him, he had told you once. He would do it when he was hurting or anxious or uncomfortable. It wouldn’t take a genius to know why that habit would surface right now.

You had shown up at his work in the middle of the night, unannounced, and all but dragged him into the break room before silently handing him the manila envelope that contained the divorce papers you had had your lawyer draw up weeks ago. It was supposed to be done in private, within the safety of your apartments four white walls. Jack wasn’t supposed to be working, but he just couldn’t help himself. He never could.

He was probably anxious to get back to the floor, always thinking about the next trauma, the next patient, the next case. His work was his one true love.

You hated how bitter you were about it.

“This is what you want?” Jack’s voice, though the words were quiet, startled you. You looked at him, his eyes didn’t leave the papers.

”Don’t you?”

Jack’s jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was going to say something, thought he’d have refuted your accusation. If you didn’t know better, you would have wished he did.

“What about Adam?”

Adam Michael Abbot. Three years old, already the spitting image of his father, and the one good thing to come out of your marriage. Adam was proof that, at one point in time, Jack had loved you — however fleetingly.

“It’ll be better for him.” It was that, those five words, that had Jack's gaze shifting to meet yours. His expression was severe, eyes pinning you to your spot and you realized how those words could be taken. Your own demeanor softened. “I’m not trying to take him away from you, Jack. Not in a million years. I just- I don’t think a child should grow up in a household with parents who can’t have a single conversation without yelling. I don’t want that for Adam.”

”And what do you want for him?” You could hear the growing frustration in Jack’s words, could sense the end of the conversation before anything was really even said.

Words sharp and biting, you said simply, ”Better than what we’ve been giving him.”

Jack seemed to deflate. He was quiet for a moment, as if letting the full weight of your words rest across his shoulders and burrow into his chest. “Does anyone know?”

The real question was ‘have you told either of our families?’ and the answer to that question would be no. And, if you had it your way, you would be as far away as possible when they would inevitably find out. Your family would be sympathetic - they’d support you as much as you’d allow in your transition to ‘single mother status’. Jack’s family… you imagined they wouldn’t be quite as understanding, especially when taking into account the tragic passing of Jack’s first wife. They’d think you were cruel. They’d think your intentions were that of a spiteful bitch instead of the heavyhearted, discouraged ex-wife-to-be you were. They’d make you out to be the villain in your story.

You weren’t the villain, you thought. You weren’t the one that ruined things.

Instead of saying all of that, you simply shook your head no. Jack said nothing in return.

The tense silence returned, minutes ticking by without a word from either of you.

A speaker overhead clicked, startling you as the intercom came to life, ‘Level one trauma, ED trauma room five, ETA three minutes. Level one trauma, ED room five, ETA three minutes.’

You expected Jack to stand, to offhandedly dismiss you before leaving to join his team in the trauma bay. Instead, he stayed seated, eyes trained on you, as still as a soldier at attention.

You sighed, choosing to stand in place of Jack and made your way to the break room door. Jack’s eyes followed you. You paused with your hand on the handle, turning to say, “Adam’s at my mothers house. He’s going to stay there for a few days while I… figure some things out.” You paused again, feeling tired and undeniably defeated. “Sign the papers, Jack. That’s what’s best for everyone involved.” With that, you turned and walked out of the break room.

The sound of the door shutting felt like the end.

[thinkmarkthink]

The problem began when Bruce refused to take off his utility belt at TSA.

“This is me complying,” he said, deadpan, as the scanner screamed.

“I’m going to need you to remove the metal objects, sir,” the agent replied, eyes twitching.

“You’re going to need a bio-scanner and a Class C government override to get that off,” Bruce muttered.

Clark stepped in, smiling his “please don’t report us to Homeland Security” smile. “He has… orthopedic concerns. Titanium hip. Very sensitive.”

Bruce blinked once, betrayed. “I do not—”

“You do now,” Clark whispered, patting his ass.

Meanwhile, Diana had cleared security ten minutes ago because she’s a goddess, not a threat, and was now standing at the Cinnabon kiosk asking philosophical questions about frosting.

Flash had already sprinted halfway across the terminal, found their gate, bought a novelty mug, lost the novelty mug, and somehow ended up trying to charge his phone in a vending machine slot. “Guys,” he said, voice echoing through the comms, “this place is a nightmare. There’s a child chewing on a power cable. I think I just saw a raccoon.”

J’onn, who did not understand Earth airports, had shapeshifted into the pilot, entered the cockpit, and was now in a small standoff with actual airport security. “I was attempting to understand humanity,” he explained, completely calm, as they escorted him away.

“By impersonating a Delta captain?” Bruce hissed, catching up.

“I said attempting.”

Arthur hadn’t shown up yet. He’d sent a text — stuck in Atlantic trench dispute. bring peanuts.

Back at the gate, the agent squinted at them. “You’re traveling as a… group?”

Clark nodded. “Business retreat.”

“With… Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce, sunglasses on, tried to look like he wasn’t vibrating with hatred. “We’re coworkers.”

“Supervisors, technically,” Hal added, materializing with a slushie and zero shame.

Somehow, miraculously, they made it onto the plane.

Flash got a window seat. Diana got upgraded to first class after smiling at the steward. Bruce got stuck next to a baby who kept tugging on his cape. Hal fell asleep drooling on Clark’s shoulder. Clark let him. J’onn read SkyMall and looked concerned about the human obsession with wine decanters shaped like moose.

And in the middle of it all, Bruce Wayne—vigilante, billionaire, obsessive planner—sat with his arms crossed, lips tight, whispering to himself:

“We could’ve teleported. We have three zeta beams. I built the goddamn satellite. I hate all of you.”

The baby spit up on him.

Clark passed him a napkin and didn’t even try not to laugh.

[sodapopkiss6]

Can't stop thinking about Simeon so yeah here's whatever this is🙏🤩

Lustful blue eyes that draw you in, an invitation. Shy blushing cheeks that are embarrassed yet curious. Lips begging for yours, to feel, to taste.

Hungry, needy, his hands grip on to your clothes as a way to ground himself. You hug him tighter, his body squirming against yours, it's new, different. This strange feeling. Lips meet and meet again, he grows desperate, his body demanding more before his brain can even process what he wants.

He shudders at the new feeling, hips bucking against your body, gasping into the kisses. It's a delicious burn that leaves him craving for more. He looks at you, eyes squinting from pleasure, silently asking-begging-for relief.

Between kisses, one by one, every last layer of his clothes are removed until he lays bare, exposed to his goddesses eyes. You see all, his body, his soul, his need. He looks up with such devoting eyes, ready to please, to do as you command.

His body unconsciously moves, presenting itself more, an enticing submission to you. Your eyes travel all over his body, taking in the sight. The shiver running through him that makes his hips twitch. The way his chest raises with each shaky breath. The light blush on his cheeks, his soft brown hair framing his face. All yours, your husband, whom you wanted nothing more than to love throughly.

Your hand-now adorned with a ring-goes to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into your touch. His mind is a mess, but admist the chaos one thing is clear, his love for you, he's said it countless times, shown you, but he wants to take it a step further. He's ready, desire taking a place next to his adoration. Desire to be yours and yours alone, to be loved through your touches, become witless from your love.

Your lips glide against his skin like a brush on a canvas, leaving behind red petals. His breath hitches, and he writhes from the combination of your bites and the feather like touch, body pressing up against you. He's never felt anything like this before, it's addicting. His body burns hotter, sweat forming on his skin.

He wants to hide his face and small noises, embarrassment making him feel conscious. However, your reassurances and request makes him move his hands above his head.

As a reward he feels your mouth wrap around one of his sensitive nubs, sucking and grazing your teeth around it. You alternate between the two, using your fingers to keep them both stimulated.

It feels strange, he feels strange. His head throws back as he let's out his first loud moan. It fuels you, your touch becoming hungrier for more of those sinful sounds coming from your angel. You keep your fingers on his nubs while your mouth descends, marking-claiming-more of him. He's trembling, mind dizzy from pleasure, hips seeking more of you.

The sound of a cap opening wakes him up, dazed eyes following the sound that leads to your hands. He doesn't remember when you had removed them from his body.

One blink and your hands move again, he sees something drip from them but his hazy mind can barely process what it is before he suddenly feels something prod at his entrance. A startled yelp escapes him followed by a sweet moan, another new sensation flooding his mind. Foreign yet alluring at the same time. His body unconsciously seeks for more, grinding against your skillfull fingers.

You keep moving, searching until your fingers press against his most sensitive spot. It's magical, like a button that makes his mind break. He's moaning seamlessly now, mouth wide open and begging. You his kind lover oblige, rubbing that spot and stretching him out carefully until he is ready for you.

By the time your tip grazes his entrance he's already far gone, blue eyes glazed from arousal and heavy breaths that do nothing to calm his racing heart. You slowly ease your way in, keeping an eye on those furrowed eyebrows and soft lips. He whines at the feeling yet greedily sucks you in. More his body begs.

It's a sin, his burning desire, the sight of his arms pinned up, his legs spread open, eyes filled with lust. However he finds himself not minding this sin of his, rather, he wishes you corrupt him further, you his love, his goddesses, his fall from grace. He gives in to his true self, his desires and you. Hands reaching to embrace you as you start to thrust.

Lips meet again, hungrier, greedier. A need to become one. Your movements become harsher, filling him up over and over again. Broken gasps spill from him as he grips you tightly.

His eyes curiously look down at the intrusion, following the way it appears and disappears. He also catches the small bulge that forms on his skin when you're inside. It's hypnotizing, he can't help but clench down and whimper.

Your voice is teasing, words filled with obscene promises that make him blush harder. He feels himself nearing a peak, alerted, he warns you which you respond to by folding him, your hands moving to hold his legs against the bed. The new position offers different sensations. He trembles from pleasure, nothing but your touch registers in his mind. Your mouth on his, your hands holding him down, your hips against him. It's overwhelming yet delicious, tears roll down his face as he looks up to you.

You murmur praises into his mouth. He soaks it up, his body taking more, asking for more. It's addicting, lust taking over his mind as he falls into you. It's sudden, a broken moan followed by a wet stream that paints both your stomachs. For the first time he releases, it's a sight you'll never forget, one so captivating that it makes your hips keep moving.

His sensitivity heightens, squirming in your hold, he whimpers and whispers all his sinful desires. Confessing to his goddesses, he hopes for more blessings, for you to reward his honesty. You're generous, kind, for hours you give all your attention to your most devoted follower.

You watch him come undone over and over again, hesitating in between each as the number increases. But hearing his soft pleas to keep going makes you accelerate the pace and move him into different positions.

Eventually he quiets down, his body growing limper until you hear him breathing softly. You gently pull away and start to clean him, carefully wiping his delicate skin. As he lays motionless on your now shared bed you feel a little emotional. He is yours and you his, tied together not just by vows but by souls as well. It was meant to be, a kind of love that surpasses differences, hardships, any obstacle that could separate the two of you.

He mumbles something in his sleep, snuggling closer to you. Smiling fondly at his adorable self, your left hand reaches for his, intertwining your fingers while you bring them up to your lips. You kiss the warm metal of his matching ring and whisper against it.

"I love you, sweet dreams my dear husband"

AGGHHHHH SIMEON AHSNSNDNS I LOVE THIS MAN BRO I NEED TO BE ABLE TO MARRY HIM IN THE NEW GAME AGHSHHSHSHSHAGHSGSHHAGAGHSHSGQG

[tateypots]

Lead Me Not Into Temptation 2

He pants and grunts as he thrusts, his sounds almost drowned out by the juicy, wet squelching of the pussy wrapped around his cock.

She’s a good fuck, he’ll give her that. He wonders how you’ll compare when you finally give yourself to him. If the cunt wrapped around him now will share any similarities with the one that birthed her. His cock twitches at the thought and his hips slam faster into her.

He’d been painfully hard when he’d left your house after coming round to introduce himself. His cock ached and drooled just at the thought of you falling from grace and right onto his waiting cock. He’d already been formulating a plan as he crossed the road back to his own house.

He’d barely had time to undo the button of his jeans and shove his hand into his pants before there was a knock on his door. He had intended to ignore it, groaning as he wrapped a hand round himself, but the knocking continued, incessant and annoying.

He pulled his hand out of his pants with a growl and stalked over to the door, throwing it wide with a gruff, ‘WHAT?!”

And there she was. Your little slut of a daughter, still sucking her fucking lollipop, tits falling out of her dress.

“Get in here,” he growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through the door, slamming it behind her.

There was no small talk. No beating around the bush. She came there to get fucked and he needed release. She wasn’t the pussy he wanted but she’d do for now.

He’d stripped her off, thrown her on the bed and slammed straight into her, setting a dangerous pace straight off the bat. His headboard banged violently against the wall as he fucked her with the boner her mom had gifted him.

He feels his balls beginning to tighten and he pulls out with a wet squelch, jacking himself over her until his come splatters over her belly and tits. She doesn’t get his come the way you will. All tucked up safe and deep inside.

He doesn’t know if she came too. He doesn’t really care. She seems happy enough, tits heaving with every heavy breath and a fucked out little smile on her face. It does nothing for him. He wants her to go. But he needs to keep her a little onside, doesn’t want her running back to mommy and telling any tales.

So he lies and listens to her prattle, feigning interest until his ears pick up when she starts to talk about you. About how lame you are. How boring. A big goodie two shoes, volunteering at the library and the soup kitchen instead of having a proper job. About how much you nag her father about fixing the broken cabinet in their bathroom and the faulty light in the garage and the creaky step on the stairs.

He fights to keep the smirk from his face because now he knows exactly how he’s going to worm his way into your good graces.

He’ll pay you a visit tomorrow, when everyone else is out of the way, and he’ll fix those pesky problems for you baby. Be your knight in shining armour and plant a little devil firmly on your shoulder. Show you how a real man should take care of his woman.

///

Ok I know I promised no age gap. And I promise from here on out that’s what it will be. But a man’s got needs you know, and who knows how long you’ll keep him waiting 😉

npt tags for those who have shown interest. @mani-pedro @puduvallee @elegantduckturtle @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @a-loneywolf @aurorawritestoescape @mabelmiller @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @pedge-page @ficsinthirst @nala2811 @hiddenbabynyc @drunk-and-capable @eddiestans-blog