#Three days in a row too ofc

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

Personally I think 8 hour exams split over multiple days should not be split into three hour and two hour sessions. Maybe it should be in 2 and one hour sessions, even if it means you have 2 sessions a day so you get a fucking break instead of three fucking hours at once. Like, you know THIS EXAM WAS LAST YEAR

[sincerelyneo]

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

[lavenders388]

i've been hooked on squid games recently, could you possibly do one of the guards or the frontman protecting the reader from dying in a game?? bonus points if the reader gets hurt. please and thank you!! no pressure at all ofc! good luck with college!!

~One Lucky Day~

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ Pink Soldier x Reader

requested 💌

a/n: sorry for being super slow writing its for the silliest reason ever! my hard gel nails are grown the fuck out and its SO hard to type expect like one million fics in a row when i get these mf knives taken off of my fingers here in a few days!!! as always thank you for all the support!!!<3 -matcha

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ As you were led through the sickeningly colorful halls- an almost disrespectful contrast to the dark place you found yourself in, your mind raced uncontrollably about what the next game would be. You worried, like everyone else, about whether you would be able to survive and move forward. you looked around as you climbed the pink staircase. noticing how many men there were compared to women. your stomach began to turn thinking about how difficult it would be to compete against those who appeared to be much stronger than you. you tried to calm yourself; thinking about how during the previous game you had an advantage by being able to stop easily and stay balanced. you hoped that in this game strength wouldn't be much of a factor.

as you entered the game hall, your mind began to race a little less. "this doesn't look like it'll be too bad for me." you thought, noticing that there wasn't a whole lot that the set gave away; just two rainbow circles. "it looks like a track, maybe this will be more like red light green light again." you pondered; the thought of a more agility-based game making you feel more confidently. the recorded voice echoed within the hall as you were instructed to form groups of 5. The thought of being in a group also aided in soothing your fears, knowing that whatever ability you lacked there were other players with you to make up for it.

you eventually found your group, finding it hard to be accepted due to not being male. your group- 3 women and 2 men- ended up being picked to go dead last. you all breathed a sigh of relief- agreeing that this could be a very good thing, you weren't going first, and you had the most time to prepare. you all got to practice your individual mini-games, and you were able to calculate what the other players struggled with more and how to better handle that without wasting too much time. as you and the rest of the crowd cheered for the other groups, you began to feel more confident about the game.

finally, it was time for the two last groups to compete. you were happy to be closer to the end of this horrible place, but you trembled with the thought of what would happen if your group wasn't time-efficient enough. the other group- very kindly you thought- agreed that they would be cheering you on and you them; referencing to the lack of cheering crowd the other groups had. this gesture made you feel supported- and ready to compete in what would hopefully be the last game before you got to leave.

as your group moved through all of the mini-games, your heart sank realizing how little time you all had to spare. "fuck." you thought to yourself; not wanting to scare the rest of your team. "okay, we can't afford to mess up on this last one." you said to the man about to attempt the last game. you tried to sound encouraging. to hide your fear in a way that might help that man. with 5 seconds on the clock, you watched the other team cheer in relief as they completed the game and got to leave. your team wouldn't make it, your skin crawling as you came to the sinking realization.

five... four... three... two... one... you barely heard the recording counting down what you believed to be your last seconds on this earth. you wanted to cry, but you didn't have the time to even do that. as you watched your teammates fall to the ground, you expected the same fate to become of yourself. you felt a bullet graze the side of your upper shoulder; the pain sinking into the muscle like fire traveling through each of your veins. the pain almost distracted you from the conversation you began to overhear as you lied on the rainbow ground with your fallen teammates.

"i missed on purpose so that they'll be fresh." you heard coming from one of the masked guards. "fresh? what the fuck does he mean fresh?" you thought, the type of fear racing within you amounting to more than you've ever felt before. "okay, load them all up like normal." you heard from another guard as the pink-bowed coffins began to be lifted onto the ground beside you. you felt yourself being uncuffed; gently. and then loaded into the coffin. "don't worry. trust me." you almost didn't hear it as he said it so quietly under his breath as you were lowered with care into the coffin.

the lid was closed but not stapled shut like the rest. you didn't get moved either. time stood still as the rest of the guards left with the other coffins. after what felt like hours but was most likely only a few seconds, you saw the lid opening.

"hey just stay quiet, don't freak out or try to run. please just trust me." came softly from the only guard left in the room. you didn't know what it was, maybe just the desperation of having nothing else to do, or maybe it was his voice that made you trust him almost immediately. you lifted yourself out of the box that was supposed to be the last thing that ever touched your body. gingerly, as to not upset the gash on your shoulder. you winced, catching his attention as he began to help you up.

"why- why did you save me? i lost the game." you said, your voice trembling in shock and as the pain traveled up your arm. "i don't know." he said, soundly almost as scared as you were. "I'm so fucking sorry i shot you." your eyes met his, he looked to be near your age. his face was young and soft, with short black hair. he was the type of guy that if you weren't in this place, you would have considered going up to him to ask for his number or something along those lines. "thank you, so much." you said genuinely, your voice softening as you assessed that the situation was safe.

"what do we do now?" you asked him, even though it didn't look like he knew for himself. "ill patch your arm up, and ill lead you back to the other players when its lights out." your second chance at life was shocking; a bit disappointing that you still had to go back to the games. you found yourself not wanting to level him.

"what about you?" you questioned as he began to gently wrap some gauze around the wound on your arm. "ill be okay, they thought you went with the rest of the coffins, and they don't really seem to care about what happens to the players once they've been eliminated." you tried not to think about the last part of his answer. "will i see you again?" you asked, without really thinking about it. you weren't sure how to properly express your gratitude to the stranger who had saved you, and a part of you twinged with sadness about the thought of never looking into his brown eyes again.

"ill look after you in the games." he stated in a way that made you know full-heartedly that he meant it; and would do so.

as he walked you back to the hall you once dreaded returning to, you found yourself no longer feeling any fear at all.

[jo-com]

Hello, can you please write a story about Alex and Charles dating a pop star and the three of them being supportive of each other, thank you ❤️

༘⋆₊ ⊹🔭 ⋆｡˚ ➛ No.1 Supporters

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Based of the request👆🏻

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Madison Beer

Note: Grammatical errors

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆ ─ ───────

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux and 2,690,351 others

Yn.Updates The known Popstar singer Y/N L/N was said to go on tour this upcoming month— sources said it is yet to be confirmed!!💞

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Username1 OMFGGGG

Username2 Been waiting for this day to come🙏🏻🙏🏻

Username3 She’s so finee😍😍

Username4 Alex on the likes is so Cutee🥹🥹

Username5 she’s always updated!!

Username6 THEIR SO ADORABLE I CANNOT

Username7 on my knees for this girl🫶🏻👌🏻

Alexandrasaintmleux Ngl same-

Charles_Leclerc Honestly (2)

Username8 NOT THEM COMMENTING😭😭

Username9 Goals Fr!!🫦

Username10 HOPING THAT THIS IS REAL AND TO SEE U ON UR TOUR!!

…

Liked by Chalres_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, Vougemagazine and 2,590,176 others

Miss.Yn Looking forward to seeing you LA!!🫶🏻💕 Btw thanks for all the support guys and stream my album SILENCE BETWEEN SONG!!💋🥰

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Lilymhe Saw it. Listened to it. Loved it

Miss.Yn thanks babes,i was trying to impress you😉😋

Lilymhe Well i am impressed🫣

Alex_Albon uhm okay…

Username11 Stream it guys, you won’t regret it!!😍😍

❤️ Liked by author

Charles_Leclerc So proud of you mon amour💞

Miss.Yn aww charliee🥹 thanks for all the support that you and alex always give me

Alexandrasaintmleux Ofc ma jolie fille (my pretty girl) we will always be your no.1 supporter😚

Username12 If my next relationship isn’t like that idk what is

Carlossainz55 Goodluck señora!!

Miss.Yn I don’t need luck, i alr have my 2 lucky charms😋😋

Carlossainz55 Charles saw the comment and couldn’t stop smiling

Charles_leclerc Snitch🙄

Alexandrasaintmleux I am also smiling!

Username13 Now all of us are smiling🤭🤭

Username14 My favorite throuple!!

F1 Ours too😎

…

Liked by Miss.Yn, Alexandrasaintmleux and 9,309 others

Tour/updates The FORMULA 1 Driver Charles Leclerc along with his other girlfriend Alexandra Saint were spotted at the front row seat of their girlfriend Y/N L/N’s concert.

Tagged; @Miss.Yn, @Alexandrasaintmleux, @Charles_Leclerc

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Username15 THE WAY THEY LOOK AT HER IS SO SURREAL

Username16 They’re so whipped for her

Username17 Wish i were there to see😭😭

Username18 Crying at how they look at her

Miss.Yn I am so inlove with them💋💋💋

Username19 They’re so lucky to have you!!

Miss.Yn Noo i am the lucky one��🤭

Landonorris ew you big simp

Miss.Yn Leave🫵🏻👉🏻🚪

Username20 Lando commenting is so random😭

Username21 looking for someone who looks at me the same way they do at y/n

Username22 Finding me a Alex and Charles for sure

Username23 GIRL SAME😉

…

L iked by Miss.Yn, Charles_leclerc, Francisca.cgomes and 6,269,190 others

Alexandrasaintmleux The way she looks at me got me twirling my hair and kicking my feet in the air😮‍💨😮‍💨

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Username24 ALEX??

Username25 “there’s a another side that you don’t know”— the weeknd

Miss.Yn BABYYY😭😭

Alexandrasaintmleux WHAAT🤭

Username26 u know what u did😏

Francisca.cgomes an invite would’ve been nice😐😐

lilyhme same😕

Miss.Yn YOU GUYS SAID U WERE BUSY😤

Username27 I love y/n core🤗

Charles_Leclerc My Girlfriend is so pretty🫠

Alexandrasaintmleux OUR girlfriend🥰🥰

…

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Miss.Yn, Carlossainz55 and 5,891,302 others

Charles_Leclerc BEGGING ON MY KNEES AS WE SPEAK

Tagged; @Miss.Yn

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Miss.Yn Not u too🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Charles_Leclerc Whatever do u mean my love👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

Miss.Yn I can’t with you and alex🙄

Carlossainz55 what did u do to him @Miss.Yn??

Miss.Yn it’s not my fault that they’re madly inlove with me🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Alexandrasaintmleux it's so hard not to love u😖

Carlossainz55 he’s smiling like an idiot rn

Maxverstappen I can vouch for that

Charles_Leclerc WHY R U EVEN HERE

Username28 Y/n must be tired of their bs

Miss.Yn so tired😄

…

Miss.Yn Just posted!

Liked by Charles_leclerc, f1, and 7,279,109 others

Miss.Yn My turn to be their supporter!! Me and my girlfriend supporting our man😋

Tagged; @Charles_Leclerc, @Alexandrasaintmleux

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Charles_Leclerc You guys are the sweetest!!

Miss.Yn Goodluck baby!!

Alexandrasaintmleux we’re so proud of you alr mon amour

Username29 FINALLY SOME YN AND ALEX PICS

Username30 the nature of their relationship is just so envious

Username31 I want them so bad😫

Username32 i want to have what they have

Username33 don’t we all?

Username32 so true☹️☹️

F1 OUR FAVORITE WAGS ARE BACK!

❤️ liked by author

…

Like always i had fun making these!!

[unwillingdarling]

hiii long time listener first time caller here love your blog <3 i’m not anal only (yet!) but i am a denial slut in training for anal and my current situation is KILLING me and i don’t know where else to talk about it and thought you might appreciate my predicament. the rules are i’m allowed to edge as much as i want but every time i do for the entire time i’m edging i have to have clamps or suckers on my tits and have something in my mouth (gag, dildo, strap, clothespin on tongue, panties, etc.), i have to be dressed how my gf wants (usually naked except for a collar ofc), i have to watch/listen to porn chosen by my gf and i’m only allowed to touch when the girls in it are either getting anal or being throatfucked, i have to have this one toy that’s wayyy to big to be comfortable all the way inside my pussy the whole time (moving or not is up to my gf obv), and i have to have at least one ruin for every half hour spent edging (up to me whether i do them as i go or all at once). i can’t even choose to go on no touch because sometimes my gf orders me to edge :(

we did just this for two weeks and by the end of it was pretty much sobbing 24/7. i thought i was just lucky that my gf seemed to have forgotten or changed her mind abt making me an anal toy, but then she introduced a new rule: i’m allowed to cum if there’s something in my ass, but i’m not allowed to do it myself. i held out for another couple days because i really really really don’t like anal but now im so desperate i’m constantly begging her to fuck my ass, and every time she does she does too much too quick and is reallyyyy rough with me, but every time i cry or complain she reminds me that i’ve been literally begging for it and then punishes me for lying to her :((

sorry this was so long and rambly she promised she was going to fuck my ass this morning but instead made me edge so much i just had to give myself three ruins in a row i genuinely feel like im losing my mind like if this goes on much longer i might actually just break and be a braindead toy i needed to get this off my chest😵‍💫😵‍💫

when i say. WHEN I SAY. yall are killing me. oh my god.

i absolutely LOVE hearing about your cute lil predicament 😵‍💫 i LOVE that you decided the best thing you could do was type out an anon message to someone online who is absolutely going to tease you about it

god. your gf is a fucking genius. i'm taking notes; i'm going to remember this for EVER 🫠 obsessed with how after just a couple of days of edging you get desperate enough to beg for something that you really really really don't like <3 and then. being so ungrateful about it ! of course, you deserve to get punished for opening your silly mouth just to lie...... just goes to show, maybe a cute darlin' like you really is meant to be seen and not heard <3 (well... except when you're whimpering and crying! :D)

i hope you end up showing your gf this post <3 i know she knows just how close to braindead you are, but she should get to see how you've rambled to all of us about how pitiful you are for her control and how sweet she's being to your holes, hm? maybe she'll reward you once you finally stop thinking 😤 bet you'd sound so, so cute with something twice as large in your ass! after all, you've been begging for it!

[luckykiwiii101]

girllll when i 👏🏼 tell 👏🏼 YOU! 👏🏼

i be like "literally, everything that is happening in the 3d is bcuz i persisted in a state, and didn't switch to/persist in my desired state" becuz ik the law, and often i forget to apply it 😭😭 well gurll‼️

(btw my acc got deleted 😭😭, but im back 💗, was simply focusing on life a bit, cuz life isn't tht bad ngl ☺️)

two success stories 💞

firstly, i tapped into the void state about......10 times inna row?? (it was WAYYY too simple!!) i was listening to an aff tape and my intention was to sleep while listening to it, but my mind was soo awake, so i tried to sleep by relaxing.

instead, i tapped into the void state randomly then be like "the vid ended already??", then i gradually gained my physical senses out of the state, then i was like.... "was my reality dippin?? 😭😭" it reoccurred about a few more times (each time within seconds) until i realised i was effortlessly tapping into and out of the void state 💅🏽💅🏽

the last three times, i kept forgetting to affirm cuz i didn't feel any "pre void symptoms" for me to realise when i tap into the void state, and i always try to feel my legs 🤦🏽‍♀️😭🙏🏽 but nxt time 😌

second success story: i manifested a text from my sp 🤭

gurlll, when i felt my phone vibrate... I THOUGHT IT WAS THIS GURL WHO USUALLY MSG ME 😭😭

so i was like "omgg why this chile txtin me at this time of da day 🤦🏽‍♀️" when i opened my phone, and saw who txted me.... GURLLLL 😭😭 IT WAS MY SPPP 🤭😭🥳 took 2 nights of persisting in my desired state 💅🏽 when i tell u, i lowk didn't expect the 3d to conform dis fast, but like cmon 🤷🏽‍♀️ everyone is a master manifester, but not everyone know their potential, cuz they keep spiralling (nrml reactions ofc, but sumtimes we gotta realise tht we gonna b stuck here if we dont actually apply the law 🤷🏽‍♀️🤍)

e-blast #100

SPOTTED: @b4ddprincess, I’ve wondered where you’ve been. But you’ve been sitting at the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Guess some certain people reading this have their heads so far up unmentionable places, that the rainbow after the rain is just something they aren’t willing to see. Maybe if they come up for air they’ll notice. But it’s been a while. Anyway back to you.

Once upon a time, entering the void state was difficult, until you realised it wasn’t. Because that would be equivalent to saying that breathing is difficult. And unless you’re a hysterical smoker, I don’t think many of us here can relate. And if you are a smoker, I know something that will kill you faster than a cigarette will, and it’s hope.

It’s easy when it’s natural. Naturalness really is the key to everything. The key to a luxurious hotel room. The key to a lavish car, and even the key to somebody’s heart. 2 days? No so fast B, you might scare the lower east siders who can’t keep up!!! And you know what happens when they get mad. XOXO

- gossip girl

[polaroidpascal]

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol

(picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week. 

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them. 

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers. 

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded. 

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show. 

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music. 

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest. 

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion. 

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well. 

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal  // I wanna feel you from the inside  // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you. 

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there. 

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.  

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right. 

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down. 

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly. 

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink. 

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side. 

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart. 

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself. 

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth. 

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod. 

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp. 

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed. 

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek. 

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust. 

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it. 

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you. 

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute. 

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes. 

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

[mischievousmoony]

haiiii, can i request a burger? jily with “look, our swimsuits match!” ?? thank uuuu

yes ofc! i loveeee jily

jolie's summer kickoff a 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫 fresh off the grill ⋮ aka a short blurb contains: poly!jily x reader, suggestive content but nothing explicit, reader wears a (tiny) bikini

James is already buzzing with excitement when his alarm wakes him up, bright and early, before the sun has even had a chance to rise.

Today is going to be a scorcher, the first one of the season. And his first chance to get to the beach this summer. For far too many weekends in a row, either his busy schedule or the weather has gotten in the way of the beach day he’s longed for since there was still snow on the ground.

But the day has finally come, and he is determined to be the first to hit the sand. Which is why he’s awake at five in the morning, packing the car, making sandwiches for today's lunch, filling a cooler with ice and sodas and plenty of water, and letting his girlfriends sleep in as long as possible.

He wakes you and Lily up with loving kisses and hushed sweet nothings, coaxing you gently into consciousness with just enough time for you two to get ready before you have to leave. The two of you sleepily head to the bathroom to start getting ready in front of the big mirror.

James is double-checking that he packed both of your beach bags with everything you’ll need—your favorite pairs of sunglasses, big fluffy towels, the fancy face sunscreens, etc—when he hears the snap of your flip flops coming closer.

“My loves,” James calls from down the hall. “You ready? We’re sure to beat the lads there if we leave within the next 10 minutes. I’m sure Remus is fighting to get Sirius out of bed as we speak.”

“Look, Jamie,” he hears your beautiful voice from behind him. “Our swimsuits match.”

James’ breath hitches in his throat when he turns around. You and Lily are wearing nearly identical string bikinis (ones that don’t leave much to the imagination, he notes). The only difference is that your pair is pink with white strings, and hers is white with pink strings.

“Do you like them?” Lily asks, her tone borderline seductive, and James finally picks his jaw up off the floor.

“You two are breathtaking,” he says, and you know he means it, because he sure does sound like he needs some air. His large hands find a spot on each of your waists, eyes still glued to your figures.

“They’re new,” Lily tells him, her smirk evident in her tone.

“Yeah, I know, because I definitely would have remembered if I’d seen them before.”

You spin around, swiping your hair out of the way as you say, “I tied mine too tight around my neck, though, could you redo it?”

“Uh-huh,” James replies, his voice slightly pitched as he tugs the string loose, looking over your shoulder, his eyes glued to the way you hold the bikini over your chest as it comes undone.

Lily is questioning him about how he’s packed for the beach, making sure he’s checked everything off the list. Not because she thinks he would’ve missed anything, but more so because of how amused she is by James’ absentminded nodding an humming to whatever she says, completely distracted by the way your ass looks in your swimsuit.

Lily doesn’t blame him—you look divine. She told you so as soon as you put the bikini on. A compliment which you returned, of course, right before she propped you on the bathroom sink and made out with you for a couple of minutes.

“You should hurry up, yeah? Don’t want to be late?” Lily asks, nodding at James’ idle hands while dragging a hand down his bicep.

“Yeah…” James murmurs, not seeming to be in any rush to tie your swimsuit back in place. Instead, he lets the strings fall from his fingertips, arms closing around your middle as he hugs you tightly from behind, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.

Needless to say, the three of you showed up at the beach much later than intended. And you and Lily somehow ended up swapping bikini tops.

Sirius and Remus end up beating you guys there by fifteen minutes. And James gets to listen to them ridicule him for it all day because he made such a big deal about getting there early.

But James seriously doesn’t mind.

[noellefan101]

Stealing Their Hoodie-Genshin

Characters: Tighnari, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Albedo x gn! reader

Summary: You steal his hoodie, what do you think abt it + what do they think abt it

Warnings: established relationship, modern au(i guess), you´re shorter than him, studying(albedo)

Note: i really hope you like this. it was honestly a pain to write three fics in a row, but i´m still alive i guess(if i don´t post in the next week im dead). also, i´m changing my theme a little, luv you.

Tighnari

you really wanted to try out his hoodie, he always wears it and it looked really comfy. you just didn´t know if he would get mad if you tried it on. it was his favorite hoodie and you didn´t want to make him mad if he didn´t like you wearing it/I'd say he´s really scary when he´s mad, like a mad mom kinda scary/. anyway, when you put it on you really didn´t want to take it off, it was just soooo comfy, and warm, and soft, and big, and... you get it. you were so lost in the comfiness and the smell of his perfume, that you didn´t realize someone just came home. yeah, unfortunately you were caught. at least he wasn´t mad, well... maybe a little, but that was mainly because you could´ve just asked instead.

one of the last things he wants you to be is a thief, just ask next time.

Wanderer/Scaramouche

he looked so good in it, you wanted to try it too. but the only problem was, that your boyfriend had a lot of temper. and you didn´t know if he would react badly/or just kill you on the spot/so you thought about asking, but got scared of the thought immediately. so the day of the week he wasn´t home you went for it, and you found it and tried it on. just as you thought, it looked really pretty on you. and it was really comfy too. the only thing that was wrong, he was coming home early as a surprise, and of course he didn´t tell you(ofc you didn´t its a f*''*ing surprise, why tf did i write that). but i guess he surprised you more than he thought, because he also surprised himself. he may have tried to ignore it, but you could clearly tell he noticed by his light red cheeks. but it was only because you looked really good in it.

he´ll be surprising you a lot more, to reveal all your secrets.

Cyno

his cloak from the manga as a hoodie omg give. me. one... 'cough cough' anyway, you really liked this one hoodie he had, why it was reeeaally big and looked oh-so-comfy. you really wanted to try it out, but you didn´t know how he would react if you asked. and you were kinda scared of it. sure he was not as scary around you, but you hadn´t done anything like this before, so how would you know how he would be if you did. sooooo you decided to "borrow" one of his hoodies while he was out. and, just as you thought, it was really comfortable and really big on you too, and as a bonus, it smelled like him. you eventually fell asleep in it, and didn´t wake up when Cyno came home either. he just looked at you confused as to why you were wearing his hoodie, but ignored it and brought you to bed. when you woke up he just started telling bad hoodie jokes, while you looked like a fresh tomato, great.

he would love you even more if you´d laugh at his jokes.

Xiao

you first liked the big hoodie he wears in the winter, it looked comfy and was big on him, therefore bigger on you. you wanted to try it on, but didn´t know how to ask. you did think about asking but was afraid of him reacting badly. so one day, when he wasn´t home, you just took a look into his closet and chose something you would want to wear. you chose this big blue and black, though mostly blue, hoodie since he wears it a lot. and when you put it on you, you fell in love, it was way to big on you, and it smelled exactly like him. but you didn´t really want to take it off just yet, and kept it on for the rest of the day. and then... xiao came home, he didn´t see his hoodie on you immediately, but could sense that something was different. but when he finally noticed, he just blushed a little. kidding he looked like a fresh tomato/very pretty one/and didn´t want to talk to you for a little, but it was fine in the end. and he eventually got over it.

no he´s not cute when blushing, or at least he doesn´t want to admit it.

Albedo

you see, he had this one hoodie he wore all the time/it´s mostly while he´s studying, but he does that a lot/and there was just something about it that you really liked. maybe it was how big it looked on him/meaning bigger on you/or maybe it was only the fact that it's his. soooo... when he was out for a group project, where he couldn´t wear his studying hoodie(yes im gonna call it that)because that wouldn´t be appropriate. so, you just took a little look in his closet, finding his hoodie and put it on. and as you thought it was way to big on you, but it was really comfy. and it also smelled like him, the perfume he uses, mixed with his shampoo. the only problem was just that albedo was coming home early/because he´s a genius, so they finished quickly/and you didn´t know. so when he got home you both got a surprise, you didn´t know he would be coming home early, and he saw you in his hoodie. he wasn´t mad or anything, but he just didn´t know how to react/he thought you looked cute in it though/.

he didn´t know this was what he would be coming home to.

Thank you for reading this thing, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

23 - Jake's First Navy Cross

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: none really just my brain being crazy and having so much inspiration. The next chapter though is gonna be some wild smut.

A/N: Welcome to my not sick brain. I feel sort of normal, no more body aches thank god, but still have a cough. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are super appreciated! We need Jake in his dress blues more often. Hehehe.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03

The Navy Birthday Ball. Something that Samantha attended every year because it was her father who made the speech and presented awards. She always sat front row with her mother, Mark and Alex. This year was going to be a bit different. She knew they were doing a special dedication to her father. Mark and Alex were not going. Sam was not sitting with her mother. She was sitting with Jake.

Jake did not go every year. In fact, he hadn’t been in the past three years because he’d been deployed on two and the last year he just didn’t want to dress up and go. This year though he was obligated to go. He needed to be there for Sam, and he was getting a Navy Cross Medal. 

Jake had seen the doctor earlier in the day and got the okay to have his sling off completely. The physical therapy had been going smoothly. He was still struggling with the actual therapist though. He was decently compliant with Ryker’s questions, but Ryker knew not to pry too much. He'd been through a similar experience. He knew Jake would open up eventually, or he wouldn't heal. Jake needed to heal, if not for himself, for Samantha.

Sam on the other hand...Jake had opened up more to Sam than he intended. And being that vulnerable with her seemed to make the nightmares worse. He had awoken for a week straight, every night, screaming, thrashing, when he didn’t have to. He’d be drenched in sweat, shivering and shaking, and every night Sam was right there, holding onto him as tight as she could, trying her best to calm him. He felt like a fucking child, being held and rocked back to sleep, half the time sobbing into her chest or holding her entirely too tight. 

One of those mornings he had woken up four times and Sam with him. When they both looked in the mirror, they had bags under their eyes, and they both looked fucking haggered. Jake pressed a kiss to her neck and wound his arms around her waist, when Sam winced. She glanced down at where his arm was, peeling it from her sticky skin. There was a bruise there. Jake examined it, realizing it could only be from him.

“Fuck, Sam. I’m so...I’m...sorry...sorry...fuck...” He stuttered and Sam immediately took him in her arms. He wanted to collapse on the floor and die, but she wouldn't let him.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I told you to hold me as tight as you needed.” She murmured against his chest. His eyes held so much sorrow, so much worry, and as he blinked rapidly, his jaw working with uncertainty, she couldn’t do much else but be a steady presence. She knew he wouldn’t accept it, but she really was unbothered by the bruise. She had spoken with Margie about when Ryker came home and what that was like. Margie had her fair share of accidental bruises from Ryker whacking her in the middle of the night while he was fighting demons in his sleep. The mind was a powerful thing when it thought it needed to defend itself. 

Jake's was fighting for it's fucking life. It didn't need to, but his brain didn't know that. When a wad of squishy, wet, tissue controls the advanced electronics for a suit of meat and muscle made to hunt and kill, there's bound to be some fuckery. Especially when that suit of meat has had some bad experiences. 

Jake fully understood that people got captured and tortured when it came to war, but deep down, person to person, he didn't understand how someone could do that and not feel awful about it. He knew they didn't feel bad about what they did to him. The blood on the floor, his broken bones, and the conditions they kept him told him that. His captors were the scum of the earth and Jake might spend the rest of his life trying to figure out why it had been him that ended up there. He knew why, but of all the missions, of all the luck in the world, why did it have to be then and there?

He surmised maybe it had to do with the unbelievable, incredible woman that he came home to. They'd really been put through some hell between Sam losing her father and Jake getting captured. But there was so much good that had come out of it. Jake proposed. That was one thing he never thought he'd do. 

Then there were the puppies. Jake had made several new friends and connections with the acquisition of the puppies and they were just another thing that made Sam happy. Or maybe what really made Sam happy was watching Jake learn how to train the puppies and in turn learn a little more about himself in the process. Jake's unfurling of his ego was something that Sam admired to the point that it has changed her mind on having children, though since he'd come home there weren't many instances where they'd gotten the chance to consummate their desires. With his therapy, working with the dogs, beginning to work from his office at the base, Sam's work, and his physical therapy, Jake's libido had taken a hit. Sure, he got pretty damn excited to see Sam but he didn't have an overwhelming need to fuck her every other hour. And in all honesty, Sam was okay with it. She enjoyed the kissing and the touching but she only wanted sex if Jake was feeling up to it and most nights he fell asleep before they could get into it. 

Jake had planned the night of the Navy Ball to a T though. They would attend the ball for a few hours, then head home, and Jake was going to take his sweet time with her and make love to her with the intention of going a few rounds. He knew seeing her in a dress would have him riled up anyway. Sam had perfect curves and anytime she wore a dress, the fabric hugged those curves in a way that was so sinful that it left Jake feeling a sudden urge to destroy the beautiful clothing. He never did but the want was there, to rip the fabric from her body and ravage what was underneath. He was sure she would let him do it too. 

Jake would be dressed in his finest blues and Sam had picked an evening dress that would have him on his knees later. It was an almost midnight blue, sparkly all over like the night sky, and it had a slit up one thigh. It sat off her one shoulder and most of her upper back was exposed, but she left her hair down and wavy. She picked a set of pretty silver heels that still only brought her just barely eye level with Jake. 

“My short queen.” He murmured as he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of her shoulder from behind. She was standing in the bathroom applying very modest makeup, just eyeliner, and dark blue eye-shadow and a rosy lipstick. She never needed blush because if she stared at Jake long enough, her cheeks would naturally go pink for him. He loved that he had that effect on her. “We should get going.” 

She agreed and turned to look at him. “Can't wait to see that Navy Cross on your chest.” She said softly as she stretched up to kiss him. He smirked and brushed his fingers across her cheek, his eyes lingering half lidded on her. He trailed his hand down and picked hers up, the one with her engagement ring on, and pressed a kiss to the back. 

“And I can't wait for you to be truly mine, for the rest of our lives.” He said, as he guided her out of the bathroom and into the hallway. He helped her down the stairs, holding her dress up slightly so that she could get down them easier. Maisy and Javy met them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Damn, Sammy. Lookin’ fine.” Javy exclaimed as he pulled Maisy in a little closer. “But not as good as my pretty chica here.” 

“That’s a matter of opinion, ‘Yote.” Jake joked and Javy punched him lightly in the arm. “Nah, just kidding. Both of our ladies are gonna be turnin’ heads.”

Jake checked on the dogs one more time, giving them each a soft bone in their crates before shutting the doors. They headed to their trucks and were on the road, ready to make their appearance at the ball in t-minus thirty minutes.

The drive felt short and Sam for whatever reason, was nervous. They met the rest of Dagger Squad outside and everyone was gussied up and gorgeous in their dress blues and formal attire. Nat pulled Sam into a tight hug.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, girl. I would say I wish you were my date, but Bob did ask me first.” She laughed and Sam’s smile reached her eyes and then she looked around for Jake. To her surprise, he was right there, his hands shoved in his pocket, but his eyes admiring her from a few feet away. When she stepped away from Nat, he stepped in and hugged her and then as Bob came up behind her, he shook Jake’s hand.

“Have you seen Rooster yet?” Nat asked, and Jake shook his head.

“Is he here?” Jake stepped away from her and grabbed Sam's hand.

“He’s supposed to be. Callie actually asked him to be her date, but I guess he said no.” Nat said as they all began to head into the hall. They saw Cyclone and Warlock, with their wives, and Maverick was inside already with Penny on his arm, who looked downright stunning in a champagne colored gown. Everyone grabbed drinks first and then made their way to their tables, which were all assigned. Jake took a walk around the table, checking the names at the ten seats. Bob and Nat, Javy and Maisy, Reuben and Mickey who came together as a joke, Sam and himself, and then to his surprise, Rooster and someone named Iris. Maybe Rooster had met someone?

They would find out soon enough. Everyone took their seats, but no Rooster yet. Nat and Sam shared a look as the ceremonies got under way. Cyclone walked up onto the stage and made an opening statement of sorts, talking about how the ball was a time honored tradition every year and that everyone should have fun, but not too much fun, and to be safe. He also made a short statement about Iceman and how much he’s missed by his fellow pilots and colleagues. He presented her mother with a small memorial plaque for his years of service. Sam hadn’t even seen her mother come in. She hadn’t talked to her much either, barely had gone home in the past few months while caring for Jake.

Then Cyclone began another monologue. “As many of you know, being deployed is an honor, but it can also be a curse. You never know if you’ll come home. Your spouse or partner will worry about you the whole time you’re deployed. You never know if a mission is going to go south. When it does, you never know if you’re coming out of it or not. That’s what we sign up for. And we do it for all different reasons, but mostly because we love our country and the freedom we enjoy here.” Cyclone's eyes settle on Jake and he continues. “There are some of us who go above and beyond, displaying valor beyond what is required. And for that, for a sacrifice such as the one that Lieutenant Commander Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin made for his fellow pilots, we award medals of honor. Jake, please step forward.” 

Jake stood, his heart pounding in his chest. There was roaring applause and he leaned down to kiss Sam before he headed up to the stage. Warlock and a few other higher up officers stood on the stage, holding their hands out for Jake to shake. When he stepped over to Cyclone, he shook his hand, and then Cyclone pinned the Navy Cross on his jacket just above his other mini service medals. 

“I present this Navy Cross Medal to Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin, for his extraordinary heroism and valor in air combat to save his fellow pilots. Without his sacrifice, the mission outcome would’ve looked much different. We thank you for your service, Jacob.” Cyclone said as the photographer snapped some pictures. Jake thanked him and headed back to his seat. Sam kissed him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a perfect view of her perfect breasts nearly spilling from her dress. 

“My handsome and brave pilot.” She said, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine and he glanced around at the rest of the table. No one was paying any attention as their dinner had arrived in front of them. They were chatting and laughing and all Jake could think of was how fucking beautiful Sam looked in her dress. He thought he might be a little more excited to have his medal, but maybe he was just comfortable without his sling again. Jake leaned over as their food was placed in front of them.

“I don’t wanna rush you but...” Sam could damn near feel the smirk on his lips and she could hear it in his voice.

“You don’t wanna celebrate your medal? She asked and he nodded.

“Of course I do, but not with all these people. It's my damn medal.” Jake said, taking a few bites of his food. Sam placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed. She was going to fuck around and Jake was counting on her finding out the consequences in just a couple short hours. About halfway through dinner, Rooster and his lady friend made their appearance. He introduced her to everyone and they sat down, the waitress coming over to serve them dinner.

“Traffic from the airport was hell.” He said, glancing at Jake. “Hangman. You look good.” 

“Ah, I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. I heard you were in Virginia  the past month. How was that?” Jake asked and Rooster took a sip of the wine that had come with dinner. Jake observed him for a few moments. Rooster’s eyes flicked over to Sam every once in a while, while his date looked just as stunning, and he barely gave her a second look the whole dinner. Jake thought it was an interesting dynamic. Was it a stab at Sam, thinking he could get a girl who looked just as pretty as Sam and make her jealous? Or was it just what it looked like, that Rooster had elected to bring a date whom he didn’t know very well and they were just in that awkward new stage of their relationship where they weren’t sure how to be around people in public and together yet. Either way Jake thought it was interesting.

“It was good. Met Iris here. She works on base at Oceana as a nurse. We went to her base’s ball a couple days ago when I got back from deployment. She wanted to come out to Cali and come to ours and meet everyone and I guess I couldn’t say no.” Rooster explained and Jake pursed his lips. Interesting, Jake thought, very interesting. So Jake was right, they were in the beginning of their relationship, but it was clear that Rooster was rushing it. Iris seemed uncomfortable with everyone but as the dinner continued she seemed to loosen up a bit. Rooster got up at some point to go to the bathroom and Sam leaned over to talk to Iris.

“Hi. I’m Sam. I’m an old friend of Bradley’s. Hopefully you’re enjoying yourself?” She asked and Iris nodded.

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet everyone. I briefly met Pete.” Jake’s brow furrowed and then he realized she meant Maverick. She clearly didn’t use callsigns much. 

“Are you staying for a bit?” Sam asked and Iris nodded.

“Yeah. I got leave for Christmas and so did Bradley, so we’re going to stay here through New Year’s and then head back to Oceana. We’ll stop in Michigan on the way back to see my family.”

“Oh, you’re from Michigan? Must be cold in the winter.” Sam said.

“Yeah. As soon as I could get out I did. I was so happy to get stationed in Virginia. So much better winters.” Iris said. “Where are you from, Sam?”

“I’m from here. My father just passed away but he’d been stationed here for most of his career.” Sam said. 

“Oh so you’re not in the Navy?” Iris asked.

“No, Jake, my fiance is. My father was the Fleet Commander for the past ten years so the Navy’s in my blood I’m just not in it.” Sam patted Jake on the shoulder and he smiled warmly at Iris, just as Rooster sat back down.

“Getting to know Hangman?” He asked, placing his hand on her shoulder. Jake chuckled.

“No, our ladies were actually bonding, Roos.” Jake said and Rooster shot him a small smile. There was an awkward tension between them that Sam could feel, but she had gathered that the rest of the table didn't feel it or they were trying to ignore it altogether. Jake figured everyone was just trying to be cordial and friendly. Jake glanced over at Sam and seeing that she had finished her food, he smirked. He wiggled his brows and she shook her head.

“Can we go now?” He asked, leaning in to whisper it in her ear.

“You wanna leave that bad?” She giggled as his lips brushed against her neck. His hands went for her thigh, running up the slit in her dress. 

“Yes. I do. Did you want dessert?” He asked, kissing her firmly on the lips then.

“Kind of.” She whimpered and his eyes darkened as he drew back slightly to lock eyes with her.

“Too bad. I’ve got dessert at home for you, babygirl.” He growled. Sam’s mouth dropped open and the blush that Jake loved so much crept across her cheeks. She cleared her throat and used his shoulder to help herself stand up.

“Jake and I are going to head home. It was nice to see everyone. Nice to meet you Iris.” She announced to the table and Jake smiled wide and nodded to everyone as he stood. His fellow pilots all said their goodbyes and Rooster just gave Jake a passing glance. He fixed his jacket and then his hand connected with Sam’s lower back as they headed toward the door. They passed couples here and there in the hall as they left, some making out, some sharing drinks, some laughing and dancing. 

Jake could only focus on Sam thought as they stepped into the cool night air. He helped her into the truck and she immediately removed her heels, throwing them on the floor at her feet. Jake started the truck, the engine rumbling to life. He glanced over at her and then shifted the truck into drive and pulled out of the spot. Jake could make the half hour drive into twenty minutes if there was no traffic.

[bad268]

Please may I request an Arvid Lindblad oneshot? I swear there are literally no stories of him and as your writing is amazing I know you would write it well!

I thought, maybe, reader is a really big bookworm, and they are dating Arvid, but as reader has a really big audience on YouTube it's practically their job (if yk what I mean) which means they can go to all of his races and support him. and maybe with a lot alot of fluff? and ofc Dino bullying Arvid for being whipped for reader.

Thank you!!

Stop Simping (Arvid Lindblad X Bookworm! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (can i just say thank you? like i cried reading this ily <3)

Warnings: Dino being a cock block (not really), aged up Arvid

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1018

Summary: It's time for a brain break.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~ (^Pinterest)

It started as just a hobby of yours. You loved to read, so you started uploading videos of your book review. You never expected your following to get this big. However, nearly 9 million followers on TikTok and 3.5 million subscribers on Youtube later, you were able to convince your parents that this could be a possible career for you. It’s not like you would ever stop reading. 

Granted, they were already upset that you decided to start dating an up-and-coming race car driver. Never mind that you were childhood friends, and started dating when you turned 16. Never mind the fact that you two had been dating for going on three years at this point too. They would never fully approve of your choices. 

When you graduated secondary school, instead of going straight to university like your parents wanted, you did what your heart wanted and began traveling with Arvid full-time. You had your camera with you constantly, and there was never a shortage of books. You had all the time in the world to do what you loved while he did what he loved.

On this day, it was particularly hot, and you could not find the words you were trying to say. You had already read the book, and you knew everything about it. You were just struggling to put your thoughts into words. You were sitting in the Prema trailer between sessions, trying and failing at this video more times than you could count. You decided you just needed a break. There was no point in forcing content when you knew you just needed a minute away. Well, not a minute. Maybe an hour or two. Either way, you decided to head out of the trailer and to the garage where you knew Arvid was getting ready for the sprint race.  

You walked out to the grid where Arvid was standing with Dino between their cars. They were starting ninth and tenth since they locked out the front row for the feature race. You showed your pass to the security on the grid before running up to wrap your arms around Arvid’s waist from behind.

“How’s my boyfriend and his teammate doing?” You asked when his attention turned to you immediately.

“I’m just the teammate now? Rude,” Dino complained before turning to talk to his race engineer.

“I’m doing alright, ready to get this race started. How’s my bookworm doing?” Arvid replied as he turned in your arms to face you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. Then, he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Not overworking yourself, right?”

“Maybe a little,” You chuckled shamelessly as you hid your face in his chest. “I just needed a break, and I knew you were about to get in the car, and I wanted to see you before then. Is that a crime?”

“Not exactly,” He laughed lightly as he swayed the two of you around. He moved one of his hands from your shoulders to tilt your head to look at him as he gently tapped against your temple. “What’s going on up here?”

“Everything and nothing, if that makes sense,” You sighed. Arvid always had that calmness to him that made it easy to talk about your feelings. Even now, it was no different despite the fact that he should definitely be focusing on the impending race, but no. He’ll always give you his full attention. “I just can’t seem to get the words right. I just needed a brain break.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Arvid replied enthusiastically as some person started gesturing for him to get in the car. He pulled you with him toward the car before leaning against the halo. “You are about to witness 22 cars go in circles for 32 laps. Nothing screams ‘brain break’ like watching things go in circles. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I wish I could,” You snorted. You noticed a few people of the team kind of eyeing you two, trying to get Arvid in the car sooner. “You need to get in your car. Like now. I don’t need to be the reason you get a penalty.”

“I don’t get a kiss for good luck? Wow,” Arvid pouted as he turned to grab his helmet, balaclava, and Hans device from his race engineer. He disregarded you as he listened to some last-minute info from his engineer. Then, he turned back to you after putting his balaclava and helmet on. “Can you still do the ritual?”

“Of course,” You comforted as you took the Hans device from his hands to put it over his shoulders and click it into place as you spoke to him. “Drive fast, and don’t crash. I don’t want to be in a hospital today, so be safe. Think twice before going on the inside, and most importantly,” you paused before holding his head between your hands. You left a kiss on top of his helmet before adding, “Have fun,” and flicking his visor down.

“Okay, you two are cute, but can you both please stop simping before I have to get in a car?” Dino butted in, completely ruining the moment.

“You’re a cock block, Beganovic,” Arvid groaned as he pulled you in for one last hug before he climbed into his car.

“He’s just jealous, don’t let him get to you,” You gave Arvid one last pat to the top of his helmet before being dragged off the track with his engineer. You were pulled up to the pit wall and given a headset. You pressed the button to talk to Arvid one last time before lights out. “Radio check.”

“Loud and clear,” Arvid smirked. It was always part of the ritual.

“Good, now give ‘em hell for me,” You smirked as you watched him go out on the formation lap. “I expect nothing less than 10, you hear?”

“I hear you,” He chuckled. “I expect nothing less than 22.”

“Alright wise guy,” You laughed, looking at his engineer who was listening to the whole conversation. “Focus on the lights and keep it out of the wall.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[mochiwrites]

Any thoughts to share about the secret husbands reunion? It's giving me such brain worms, they're so soft!

ofc!!! :D

so after they reunite on mumbo’s redstone world and catch up, grian stays there for a few days with scar Constantly visiting. and honestly I think it’s an opportunity for mumbo and scar to become better friends as well! the three of them spend a lot of time in each others company after all. but mumbo does try to give scar and grian some space (I think mumbo is one of the first to notice they’ve got feelings for each other)

he also gets a front row seat to scar becoming his normal self again. the man can’t stop smiling, and he’s like a bouncy ball with how much he’s just moving around and cheerful (mumbo catches grian looking at him with a terribly fond smile Very often)

grian probably stays with mumbo for hmmm two weeks? maybe a bit longer? after crashing into his world? it gives them a lot of time to get to know each other (they get along extremely well — just like scar thought they would) and while grian doesn’t tell him Every little detail about the watchers, mumbo does end up learning about what happened and is one of the only people who knows the most

when scar isn’t with them, he’s back on the season five world hatching a plan to sneak grian onto hermitcraft

said plan is foiled Very quickly when it’s found by cub and xisuma himself. they laugh about it because “scar you could’ve just asked us to invite grian” and scar is rambling because he knows it has to be a unanimous vote and what if not everyone agrees and he’s just gotten grian back x :( he can’t be separated from him again :(

to which cub just sets a hand on his shoulder and tells him it’ll be fine (scar brings it up at the next meeting and everyone is enthusiastic about grian joining them. scar cries. a lot.)

and when he and mumbo pop into mumbo’s world again where grian is, they drop the news on him (no scar did Not tell grian about any of this beforehand) and maybe grian gets a little teary eyed too

scar stays in the world that night, curled protectively around grian and they whisper to each other about hermitcraft, the sort of server it is and the people in it. and he’s quick to reassure grian of his place in it when grian is doubtful

after grian’s injuries heal up enough mumbo lets him have his own lil plot in the world to practice his building again. it’s been so long that he’s… nervous about doing it again. what if he’s no good anymore?

when scar comes to visit he’ll sit and watch grian build, introducing the new blocks and colors and oh he’s greatly missed the way grian’s eyes sparkle with interest or when he’s got a new idea for a build — sometimes they build together, and sometimes mumbo joins them, learning some things

(he’s kind of in awe, watching the two of them work together. it’s very inspirational)

sometimes they do a build competition, with little prompts and everything. they take turns on who judges the build/gives the prompt and who actually builds

and when it’s time for season five’s ending, grian is alone in mumbo’s world for a bit while scar and mumbo wrap up whatever they need to. it’s… hard to be alone, but he comforts himself by looking at the reminders of scar (and mumbo) and he gets through

scar gets a bear hug when they return though. and then mumbo too, just so he doesn’t feel left out <3

then finally… scar brings grian home. and they’re both very emotional about it. grian sees jellie and she’s glued to his side despite his fear she wouldn’t remember him. she is extremely adamant about sleeping On grian at night, and scar teases him about stealing his cat. “our cat,” grian replies with a big grin. though scar says something about jellie missing him just as much

(I think on those days when scar would stay at their hypixel apartment in hopes grian would come home, jellie went with him. and at night she’d curl up on grian’s pillow a lot. her favorite toy would be on his side of the bed, always. scar would hold bring grian’s pillow in close with her on it and cry)

while waiting for season six to start they spruce up the apartment a bit !!! they try to get back into the swing of their routine while accounting for the new things (grian’s wings, his fears, his nightmares, the powers they gave him)

it isn’t easy, but they get through it. and when the season properly begins, they spawn in, and grian goes off on his own to adventure and meet everyone. he’s… a little awkward and shy (very unlike him, he knows) but ironically ends up right by scar and mumbo and he’s so relieved (I think scar and grian talked about basing near each other before the season began)

and yeah :D

[jinxyvvrites]

-- summer of 85 [ act iii ]

Warnings:

Writer's own interpretation of canon characters. Absence of sci-fi / Upside Down + integral canon events -this is more a slice of life type thing, I do not fear. Teen dramatics, swearing, angst here and there, topics like teen pregnancy / affairs, etc mentioned. Kissing, eventually. Eventual filth -assuming I don't get bored of this and just stop working on it entirely, boys (billy and tommy, ofc) being kind of douchebags, tommy being a little jealous / v. possessive, steve's kiddos playing matchmaker with awkward and/or hilarious results, etc.. Nicknames and petnames galore. If I'm leaving her unnamed for ya'll -because trust, I almost made reader an oc.. - at least let me have nicknames/petnames.

Warning about reader/you: The reader for this is very, very specific and detailed. If this puts you off, please do yourself a favor and don't read this. The characteristics I've given reader/you are non-negotiable and as follows:

Reader is female. Reader is shorter than Steve/Tommy, think like.. 5'2 ish. Reader has long and curly hair -think 90's Mariah. Reader is a cheerleader but Reader is very much anti-popularity. Reader recently went through what others see as a 'glow-up' but Reader doesn't really acknowledge in anything beyond sarcasm / insecurities that have now stemmed from that. Reader has an older sister -the teen pregnancy mentioned vaguely in previous chapter, and an adorable lil niece named Ruby. Reader is a child of divorce / cheating - her father had an affair and is noted to be not such a good and hands on father -spoiler alert, he wanted boys, lol- Reader loves shopping and fashion and makeup but she's too lazy to make an effort most of the time. Reader wants to be a dancer / plans to make this a career. Reader is maternal af. Reader goes by 3 nicknames -eventually 4, but that last one is a good way off.. Those nicknames are teeny, tiny and pixie. Pixie is specific to Tommy only.

If any of the warnings here bother you, this is not the fic for you.

Word Count:

4.2k+

Pairings:

Mike x Will, endgame

Eleven x Max, endgame

reader x tommy, past - hints of present.

reader x steve, eventual endgame

robin x vicky, crushes, one sided

robin x nancy, eventual, endgame

Previous Parts:

act ii

Snippet:

“I thought Steve liked Robin.” “He does.” Eleven answers, glancing over at where the three of you are sitting, further up the row. She happens to catch him looking from you to Robin and then at the screen as he shakes his head and laughs at the way the two of you are tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. “Wait..”

“Yeah? You saw the way he looks at _ too?” Max asks, grinning. Eleven nods. “I think he likes them both.”

You know your mom’s talked to your father when you step into your house after a long day at cheer practice to hear Silver Springs blaring from the stereo in the kitchen.

She’s angry baking again, you sniff the air, stomach growling at the scent of her homemade brownies.

“Ma?” you call out, hoping she hears you over the music playing full blast.

Your mom lowers the radio and calls out to you. “Teeny? Are you home?”

You saunter into the kitchen and grab a cup, running cold water into the tap. “Yeah.” you flop down into one of the brightly painted ladderback chairs.

“Your father wanted t’ know if you want to come for Christmas this year. We were figuring out the visits..” she looks so sad. She always looks sad after she’s had to deal with him.  “He’d really like it if you did.”

You roll your eyes. “Riiight. Sure he would. So he can trot me around with his new family, pretend to be the perfect father.”

“Sweetie, he is trying harder.”

“He should’ve tried before he fucked his secretary, ma.” you don’t mean for it to slip out quite so blunt, but you still can’t just get past it. You don’t intend to, either. You are firmly on your mother’s side.. Because it wasn’t like he was actually involved as a parent before he walked out anyway, you think, why’s he wanna start now?” 

“Will you at least think about it?”

“Nope. Not interested.” you answer after not even half a second. You take a few sips of water and after the silence gets too much, you clear your throat. “I’m sorry, I just can’t, ma.”

“I wish you’d try. He is your father.”

You shrug. “Maybe if he’d bothered acting like it with me and Dawn before, I’d be bothered t’ spend time with him now.” you mumble. Your mom nods. “He was taking care of us.”

You snort in laughter. “He was using work as an excuse to not be around, ma. I really wish you’d see that. I wish you wouldn’t defend him. He doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Sweetie, you don’t understand the whole situation.”

“I understand that he said for better or for worse and then he bailed.” you shrug, going quiet. “Can we just not talk about this, ma? It’s kinda been a long day.”

Your mom nods. “It has. I’ll tell him you’re not coming next time he calls.”

“Better yet, let me.” you smile at her. “I’ll be th’ bad guy, ma.”

“Sweetie..”

“I know what you’re about to say. This is a bridge I think I wanna burn.” you insist. “I don’t care how much money he sends. I don’t care how many vacations or holidays he invites me to, it’s not gonna change the fact that you’re my ma. He’s just.. Half of my genes. He never bothered gettin’ t’ know me or Dawn. I really don’t think he even liked us, ma.”

“Sweetie..”

“But it’s fine. I’m dealing with it.” you insist. Your mom studies you quietly.

After a second or two, she scowls at the ringing landline. “That’ll be your father or that little jerk Joey.”

“Got it.” you smirk and she laughs softly, shaking her head. “One of us has gotta be rude, ma.” you shrug as you slink over, picking up the phone.

It’s Joey.

You wander out into the hallway, leaning against the wall. Waiting until he reaches a stop in his speech.

“I’m still done with you.” you speak up, calm and firm. “I told you I wasn’t ready, asshole. You kept pushing me. I told you t’ knock it off, you didn’t. This is where we are now.”

“Aw, c’mon, babe.. I can’t help you went an’ got all hot on me an’ I couldn’t keep my hands off ya.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well.. No is a full sentence, asshole. Just for the future, idiot.”

“Ice queen.” he grumbles. “Y’know, teasing a guy isn’t right. It’s not fair.”

“The fact that you think I was teasing you to begin with just shows me how stupid you are. If I wanted you, asshole, you’d have known it. Don’t call here again. We’re done.” 

You laugh bitterly and slam the phone back down onto the hook just as he’s getting all worked up all over again, pleading for you to at least think about giving him a chance. Your mom is watching you when you wander back into the kitchen and flop down into your chair, you can tell she’s been listening at the doorway.

“Do you wanna talk about it, teeny?”

You shrug. “I had one boundary, ma.. The jerk couldn’t be bothered to stick by it. It’s over.”

“But you’re hurting.”

“And I’ll survive.” you mumble, sighing as you shake your head. “Just once..” you trail off.

“Yeah?” your mom sits down, taking a sip of her long-forgotten glass of tea.

“I’d like t’ meet a truly decent guy.. Y’know, one who listens.. Who respects my boundaries and stuff. Who actually wants me for me, not because I’m supposedly hot now.” you roll your eyes and laugh. “Can’t trust any of ‘em, huh?”

“One day you will, sweetie.” your mom coaxes. You laugh, the laughter dying away when you realize that yes, she does still somehow have a shred of hope left. 

“I mean.. Even the boy I used t’ love so much in middle school and thought would never turn into an actual shithead turned into one, so I’m kinda having a hard time believing that.” you admit quietly as you finish off your glass of water. 

“I promise.” your mom gives you a little smile. “I might have.”

As her eyes light up, you giggle. “Okay, I’ll bite..”

“Bob… That sweet man who owns Radio Shack?” your mom goes quiet, grinning like an idiot. And it’s the first time you’ve seen her this happy - at least not romantically, in a long time.

You’re trying to remember who she’s talking about. You grin.

“No way! I thought I picked up on a lil flirtation between you two when you went to take the toaster in to be fixed.” your hand goes to your mouth and you laugh softly. “Okay, I need to hear everything, ma. Now.”

Your mom smiles and shrugs. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“Moooooom.” you whine. “No fair!”

“A lady never kisses and tells.” your mom answers, making you pout at her.

“Not even to her daughter?”

“Especially not to her daughter.” your mom laughs and shakes her head. “Were you still going to meet Robin at the mall later?”

“Mhm.”

“Maybe you could invite Tommy..” your mom ventures and you shake your head. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea, ma..” you go quiet. She frowns. “But you two were starting to get close again at Ruby’s party this weekend.”

“We are, I just… I love Robin, okay? She’s not comfortable around new people.”

Your mom smiles and nods, opening her arms for a hug. “Such a sweet girl I have.”

You laugh. “Y’know some people might disagree with that.”

“I don’t care.” your mom smiles at you as the hug breaks. “I’m proud of you and your sister. I think I did a damn good job.”

“Love you, mama.”

“Love you too, teeny.”

You wander into Scoops and get in the line behind a group of girls decked out in leotards and legwarmers. As they whisper back and forth amongst each other about how low King Steve has to have fallen, working at an ice cream parlor, you roll your eyes. You instantly recognize Nicole, one of Carol’s airheaded friends.

“It’s your turn, bimbo.” you cut into their conversation, rolling your eyes as you nod to the counter. “Can you order and get the hell out?”

Nicole’s hand settles on her hip as she looks you up and down. “Did you seriously just..?” she pops a bubble with her gum.

“Yeah.” you laugh. “I did.”

“Nic..” Tina goes quiet under her warning glare. Nicole rolls her eyes. “Screw whatever Tommy said, I still don’t like this little bitch. I’m not gonna be nice to her, either.”

You yawn. “The fact that you think I give a flying fuck is amusing.” you shrug as you say it. “I don’t care. I’d rather you stick to what I’m used to.”

“Good.”

“Great.” you fold your arms over your chest, scowling at her as you shoo her, hoping she’ll turn around and order the ice cream she came for, get out of the way so you can get your ice cream fix for the afternoon.

Up at the counter, Steve’s overheard most of the little confrontation. And he can’t help but chuckle to himself as he listens to you putting Nicole in her place.

Oh, it’s not the first time, not by a long shot. You’ve never had a problem speaking your mind. Not even a little. There’s never really been a shy bone in your body.

,, it’s actually kind of hot.” he thinks, pausing as he turns, sits down the scoop in his hand and holds out Erica’s daily free ice cream. “Your orange dreamsicle, kid.”

Erica smirks. “Thank you.”

As she makes her way past, you laugh softly.

Nicole, Tina and the rest of their little group takes their turn, catty muttered comments about how pathetic Steve Harrington has truly become under their breath the entire time.

“At least he’s doing something productive. Unlike you airheads.” you mutter, hoping to hell it’s loud enough that at least one of them hears you because honestly, you’re just over the little group being in your presence.

Your turn finally comes.

Steve is chuckling as you stop in front of him. “You’re a little hothead, y’know that?”

“They bring it outta me, Steve.” you bite your bottom lip as your eyes fix on his mouth for just a second or two too long for your personal liking. You shake your head and laugh softly. “Is Robbie around?” you ask, bursting at the seams to tell her who your mom has apparently been on a few dates with while you were at your grandparents.

“She’s in back.” Steve nods towards the back of the parlor. “I can go get her?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll catch her in like an hour.” you smile at him but he shakes his head at you. “No, I’ll go get her. It’s my turn t’ take a break anyway.”

As he takes off his apron and the stupid sailor hat, you lick your ice cream cone, reading off the three new flavors they’ve added to the menu. 

Robin wanders out, putting back on her apron. As you flop down into a chair nearby, she nods to your damp hair. “You must’ve gone to the pool.”

“Mhm. I left because that idiot Hargrove wouldn’t take a hint and leave me alone.”

Robin laughs. “Most girls would kill for that.”

“I’m weird though, remember? I like my space. He had the actual nerve to grab my sunblock, Robbie.. Then he starts trying t’ put it on me? Like..” you take a few licks of your melting cone, “Excuse me, man? Did I ask you t’ touch me?”

Robin snickers quietly.

“ I heard the new cheer coach is a real battle axe.” Robin sits down across from you, resting while there’s nobody in the little shop.

“Ugh, I swear to God.. If I weren’t so locked in on being a dancer, I’d walk. Zero hesitation.” you take a few more licks. “That woman had the audacity to tell me I need to drop five pounds.”

Robin gapes. “Ew!”

“Yeah. I told her not a fucking chance. If I stay on the squad past camp I’ll be surprised.”

“You could just take dance lessons.. They opened that studio the next town over.” Robin muses. You shrug. “I’m thinking hard about going that route.”

“So do it.” Robin encourages. “Don’t spend another second miserable.”

“I’m trying not to be a quitter. But I swear to God if she doesn’t breathe down someone else’s throat, I’m done. Because it’s like you said.. Why be miserable? That’ll just make me hate dancing.”

Robin nods. “Exactly.”

“Speaking of camps… Did you talk to you know who yet?” you lean in, giggling softly as you ask the question. Robin cringes. “An attempt was made.. A bad one, but an attempt all the same.”

“Robbie, that’s so badass! I told you it wasn’t that hard!” you’re loud and enthusiastic, grinning brightly at your best friend. Robin is beet red, sticking her tongue at you. “I didn’t say it was a good attempt.”

“Oh no.” your face falls. “What happened?”

“I opened my mouth and instead of words, I squeaked.” Robin hides her face and shakes her head. You laugh softly. “Aww, this is so damn cute.”

“Okay, what about you, hm? I heard a certain freckled prick was over at your house on Saturday?” 

You shrug. “We talked. We kinda had to.. Was Ruby’s party, remember?”

She nods. “Just like.. Don’t trust him, okay? Steve says he’s full jerk, no hint of this so-called sweet side you keep insisting he has.”

“You and Steve talk a lot.” you’re teasing her gently. She shrugs, glancing back at Steve as he peeks around the corner. “Maybe he’s not as bad as the rest of ‘em..”

“Girl.”

“What? I just said maybe he’s not that bad.”

“That’s a doorway though.” you mutter, making her laugh at you as she shrugs. “He asked me to come with him, he’s taking these kids he babysits to see a movie later. I feel soooo bad.. Like.. If I were as bold as you I’d think he was into me and he’s so barking up the wrong tree.. But he’s been through it and I don’t wanna add to that.”

“He’s strong. You can let him down easy sooner or later. I think he is into you. I know he is, actually.”

Robin gapes.

You shrug. “You’re hot.” you smirk, staring her down. “If I were into girls I’d have locked it down when we were in like… 9th grade. We’d totally be married by now.” you make her blush and she’s laughing, it’s the cutest thing. You smile at her. “I’m not lying, either.”

“You’re full of it.”

“Am not!” you insist, staring her down. As melted ice cream rolls down your arm, you raise it and lick it off. “Anyway, yeah.. When you do have to let the big idiot down, just be easy. I agree with you. He kinda went through it, what with Billy knocking him off his throne and Nancy Wheeler ditching him.”

Robin nods and sighs. “I’m dreading it.. I mean, if he actually is into me.”

You smile, nod at her. “I know. It’s not fun. Like, not at all.”

“Hey… he did say you were cute.”

“Uh uh.. Nope.” you shake your head. “I’m committed to myself right now. Until I figure out who I can actually trust and who is only into me because I suddenly and supposedly got cute. Which I still don’t see, by the way.” you shake your head. 

“Oh come off it. You’re hot, okay? Like.. Super hot. If I knew you were into girls..” Robin laughs softly.

“We’d be married.” you answer, giving her a wink.

“I better go, let you get back to work.” you stand, stretching. Grimacing at the way your arms ache from working them all day. Robin notices and gazes up at you in concern. “You okay, tiny?”

“Yeah, just sore as hell. The coach decided she was going to work our asses off. Apparently, we’re all lazy or something.” you shrug.

Robin laughs softly. “Hey.” she stops you as you turn and start to head out of Scoops, “You should come with me? If I go with the dingus and his children..”

You raise a brow. “I dunno, Robbie..”

“Aw, c’mon.” Robin pleads. You rub your forehead. “What time?”

“9.”

“What if Steve doesn’t want me around though? I feel like I’d be third-wheeling you guys..”

Steve speaks up, smiling at you. “It’s fine. I don’t really mind. The more, the merrier.”

You give him a little smile that Robin clocks, files away to tease you about later on. As you tilt your head to look up at him, your stomach does this weird little flip.

“Cool. I’ll meet you guys at 8:30. I’m gonna do some more retail therapy.”

Robin snickers. “Good grief, woman.”

“I haven’t spent the old man’s lousy dad tax yet. I don’t want it sitting around, Robbie. It’s only fair, right?”

As you slink out, Steve chuckles.

“She’s.. Interesting.”

Robin laughs softly, shaking her head while Steve is still kind of staring at the door. “She’s a handful, that’s what she is.”

“Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.” Steve muses, blowing out a breath as he finally takes his eyes off the door, thick digits raking through shaggy hair.

“What the fuck? Why is she so freaking stupid, ugh!” -your little exclamation draws a glare from Nancy Wheeler’s little brother and Lucas snickers to himself. Steve can’t help the snort when it escapes and Robin nudges you, leaning in.

“Bet you twenty dollars that she ends up dead by the end of this scene.”

“Why are we betting, Robbie? We both know it’s inevitable at this point.” you’re scowling at the screen, “I just need her to be smarter. She's truly an idiot..” you go quiet, shoveling popcorn into your mouth as you fix your eyes on the screen.

 As Robin looks up right around the same time the killer bursts through the door with his axe, she jumps, hand flying to her eyes as her popcorn flies off her lap.

Steve looks at her in genuine concern and as you watch the two, you can’t help but feel angsty about it. 

,, He might seem sweet but..” your mind insists. This thought is overshadowed by the next one, ,, Poor guy.” because any idiot can look at him and see just how down bad he is for Robin.

And on a deeper level, yes.. Maybe you’re feeling just a little bit of the old green eyed monster. But you bury it and you bury it quick, reminding yourself that you’re perfectly fine doing your own thing. That you need to have time to yourself, that you made yourself a promise not to jump from the frying pan back into the fire.

Because you’re sick and tired of the disappointment that always seems to come right along with it.

At one point, the girl with red hair nudges you.

“Yeah?”

“Hey.. It was cool when you told my stepbrother to get bent earlier. He’s not a good guy.”

You nod. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that. He’s not familiar with the word no, I take it?”

Max shakes her head, laughs softly. “He’s never heard it.”

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“Just don’t let him win.. Please?” Max asks, looking at you in concern. You nod and smile. “Oh trust me.” you lean in to whisper, “I don’t think you’re ever gonna have to worry about that one, cherry.”

She laughs. Smiles at you. And as she turns her attention back to the screen, she happens to catch Steve looking away from you. She raises a brow and shakes her head, nudging her girlfriend.

“I thought Steve liked Robin.”

“He does.” Eleven answers, glancing over at where the three of you are sitting, further up the row. She happens to catch him looking from you to Robin and then at the screen as he shakes his head and laughs at the way the two of you are tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. “Wait..”

“Yeah? You saw the way he looks at ___ too?” Max asks, grinning. Eleven nods. “I think he likes them both.”

“Yeah.” Max agrees, stealing another look. Now the two of you are tossing popcorn into Steve’s mouth, the three of you laughing.

“But which one does he like, like.. Like, y’know, seriously?” Lucas wonders as Mike hisses at all three of them. Lucas flips Mike off, scowling at him. Dustin glares at Mike and leans in, muttering quietly, “He kinda told me earlier that he really likes Robin but he thinks ___ is kinda cute. I’m trying to get the idiot to ask Robin out on an actual date.”

“I dunno.. I kind of feel like maybe ___ is more the one he should ask. I just don’t think he’s Robin’s type…” Max muses, earning her a glare from Dustin which she shrugs off. “Besides that…I like her, alright? And Steve needs a challenge. He needs a little frustration in his life. I’ve seen her around, trust me.. She’ll keep him on his toes.”

“Okay, fine.. You guys play matchmaker your way, we’ll play ours.” Dustin, Mike and Lucas smirk as they say it. Will, Eleven and Max smirk right back at the three. “Fine. Game on. I’m telling you, you dorks are wrong.”

“Maybe none of us are right.” Will muses, shrugging. “If we butt in, we’re kind of taking the choice out of his hands.” he points out, stealing some of Mike’s popcorn. Mike scoffs. “You’re not wrong, but.. If we leave it up to him,” Mike nods, “He’s gonna make the wrong one and then the idiot will get hurt and we’ll have t’ deal with mopey Steve all over again.

“I just don’t know that it’s a good idea, Mikey.” Will argues, pulling the popcorn they’re sharing back into his own lap as he looks over at the three of you, “But I get it.. I mean, kinda.”

“We’re still going to meddle.” Max states, looking at her friends hopefully. “C’mon, me and Eleven are bored, we need some excitement.”

“Okay.. We can meddle a little. At least try to figure out which girl Steve really likes.” Will mumbles after thinking it over. “We can at least nudge him in the right direction if we figure it out.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Steve likes anything with tits and an ass, duh. I don’t think the idiot actually has a type.”

Eleven shrugs. “I dunno.. I think he does but he doesn’t even know what that is yet.”

“Yeah, well.. He’d better not even think about it with my sister again.” Mike grumbles. 

Will rolls his eyes. “Nance and Steve are done, stop being a baby.”

“Yeah but how do we know that?” Mike asks, pouting at his boyfriend. Will laughs, reaching out to pat Mike on the head. “Just trust me, Mikey.. They’re done.”

Tommy peeks through his bedroom curtains. 

There’s still no sign of your car in the driveway. He grumbles to himself and makes himself step away from the window just as bright white headlights cut through the darkness.

He can hear Motley Crue playing for just a few seconds, the sound of an engine idling. He’d been tensed up, he relaxes a little. He knows it’s you and you made it home because you’ve been listening to the same Motley Crue cassette since your cassette player ate it at some point just before you left for your little trip to Florida.

Despite the fact, he wanders back over to his window, flopping down on the sill. He reaches out, grabs his pack of cigarettes and the lighter, carefully easing the window open.

You’re just getting out of your car as he looks down and takes a drag. If your outfit is anything to go by, he has to assume you just got back from a date and this thought doesn’t sit right with him, the jealousy starts to rise within before he can stop it from happening and it brings a renewed sense of desperation right along with it.

Dark brown eyes settle on the swimsuit calendar tacked to the wall above his old desk in the corner, the date he has to leave town for college is circled in red permanent marker.

“I gotta do something, this is gonna drive me crazy.” he mutters to himself in the darkness. 

When he looks back down, you’ve gone into your house. A quick glance upward shows that you’re in your room. There’s a hazy glow inside, your frilly sheer curtain and the tapestry you tacked over the top of it are pulled out of the way and you’re wandering around, a pale pink phone cord winding itself around your pretty little body with every step you make as you pace your messy bedroom and talk to someone on the phone.

You stop in your window, hand pressed against the glass. As he stares at you, he gets the feeling that you’re  staring right back. This is confirmed when you give him this little wave. He leans his head back against the wooden frame behind it and exhales, a plume of smoke dissipating into the darkness.

And for the second time in fifteen minutes, he reminds himself that he needs to do something. He can’t leave town with everything so unfinished between the two of you because it’s been eating at him for a while. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll start tomorrow. I can just go over, ask if she wants to hang out with me all day.” he tells himself as he puts out his cigarette and flops across his bed after closing his curtains just a little bit better.

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 1

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

A/N: My inspiration for this came from these lovely artworks that reimagine Beauty and the Beast in a 1950s setting. The idea of making the Beast a World War II veteran jumped out at me, and given that "Overlord" is a World War II movie, I immediately knew I'd write this for Grunauer. I based this on the original screenplay more than the movie itself (Grunauer's full name and the fact that he's from Miami are both in the script), since Grunauer actually survives in that. The title is, of course, a lyric from "Beauty and the Beast".

Warnings: period-typical attitudes (sexism, racism, prejudice), PTSD, some violence, non-explicit smut

Chapter warnings: period-typical sexism and prejudice

Chapter word count: 5.2k

Chapter 1

"I'm so glad the sugar ration is over, aren't you?" Mrs. McLeish said, peering at the rows and rows of cakes and pastries behind the glass.

"We all are, Mrs. McLeish," replied Alba, handing the gray-haired lady her purchase neatly wrapped in paper bags. "That'll be a dollar and sixty-three cents."

"Are you sure, dear?" Mrs. McLeish felt the bags, trying to remember what she'd bought.

"Of course. Ninety cents for half a dozen loaves of bread, fifty-two cents for ten ham croquetas, and twenty-one cents for three cheese pasteles," counted Alba. There had been no mistake—Alba knew this was only Mrs. McLeish's way to weasel some discount out of her.

Mrs. McLeish started counting out her money with excruciating slowness. "My Ted has been so looking forward to your bakes ever since he came back from the Pacific, you know."  

Alba smiled and reached into the display case again. "Well, here's a slice of tres leches cake, to thank Ted for his service. On the house," she quickly added. Mrs. McLeish's wrinkles immediately relaxed, just as Alba knew they would. Papi wouldn't like it, but they couldn't afford to alienate a customer now.

Mrs. McLeish was barely out of the door when the cheerful chime of the shop bell was drowned out by an obnoxious roar. Alba looked up to see a bright red Aston Martin screech to a halt across the street.

"¡Mierda!" she muttered under her breath. This bit of profanity earned her a stern look from the statue of La Cachita, the patroness of Cuba, on her altar set in a corner of the bakery. "Sorry," Alba mumbled to the statue. She tried to dip behind the counter, but it was too late. The driver, a tall, broad-shouldered man with raven hair slicked back, wearing a leather flight jacket that was too heavy for Miami in late June, was already striding toward the door. He pushed it open with unnecessary force, making the bell chime furiously in protest.

"Allie!" he declared, flashing a grin that showed his white teeth to perfection. "Just the girl I want to see."

Alba tried to pull her lips into the semblance of a smile and ended up with something more like a grimace instead. "Mr. Grant, good morning," she said. "What can I get you today?"

"Call me Gastin, dearest Allie," replied Grant, leaning against the counter. "How many times do I have to ask you again?"

"As many times as I've asked you to call me Alba, not Allie, Mr. Grant," Alba said smoothly. Grant's smile faltered, but only for a moment, before returning to full blast.

"But Allie sounds so much nicer! Allie Grant. Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

Ignoring his suggestive leer, Alba repeated, "What can I get you today? A pastelito, perhaps, or some croquetas?"

Grant shuddered. "God, no. Do you have any idea how fattening those can be, with all that cheese and butter and frying oil?"

It was on the tip of Alba's tongue to snap that he was in a shop that thrived on cheese and butter and frying oil, but she bit back the retort and simply said, a little impatiently now, "Then what do you want?"

"You know what I want, my dear Allie." Grant was now leaning so far over the counter that a bystander may think he was trying to reach into the till. "A date with you."

"I'm afraid I'm very busy at the moment," Alba said automatically.

Grant let out a derisive laugh. "Busy with what?" He gestured around the empty bakery. It was after eight; the first waves of customers had gone, which meant Grant had timed his visit to catch her specifically. He certainly hadn't driven all the way here from his swanky family mansion on Millionaire's Row for one of La Perla del Sur's pasteles.

Mierda.

"Come now, Allie," Grant continued, seizing her hand in a tight grip. "I don't understand why you keep working in this dump. When we're married, you'll have the biggest mansion on Miami Beach and never have to deal with all this misery..."

Alba's face tightened. For six months now, Grant had been hovering around the neighborhood and pestering her into going out with him, despite her making it clear that she had no time for him. She knew she was the minority in this. Most people would consider him a great catch. A war hero and the heir to a real estate empire, courting the daughter of a lowly baker, a Cuban immigrant at that? She should have been over the moon. It was true that she had been flattered by his attention at first. But she wasn't interested in finding a boyfriend, and she'd treated him the same way she did all customers, polite and friendly. Only when Grant started harping on about marriage, as if they were already engaged, that she firmly shut it down. Even then, he couldn't seem to take a hint, whether because he was too arrogant or too dim, Alba wasn't sure. So her politeness had turned into grudging tolerance and finally into barely concealed dislike. Still, he refused to leave her alone.

"Maybe I like the misery," she bit out.

Grant opened his mouth, but before he could come up with a response, an angry voice rose from the street. It was Mr. Olson, whose grocery store was across the street from the bakery, and whose front door was currently being blocked by Grant's monster of a vehicle.

"Who's the schmuck that parked his car in front of my store?" Mr. Olson shouted, waving his broom. "Move it before I smash your headlights in!"

Grant flung Alba's hand aside and ran out of the bakery without another word. Seizing the opportunity, Alba ducked through the swinging door that separated the front of the bakery from the sweltering back room, where two enormous ovens were constantly belching out steam and heat. She almost collided with her younger sister, Beatriz.

"Alba!" Beatriz exclaimed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I need you to man the counter for me," Alba said.

"Why?"

"He's here."

"Who?"

"You know who. Señor Slick." Alba's lips curled in distaste.

"Really?" Beatriz craned her neck to look through the curtain. Alba glanced behind her. Grant was busy arguing with Mr. Olson, but she grabbed Beatriz's shoulders and positioned herself so Beatriz would hide her from view anyway.

Alba couldn't understand why Grant was so determined to woo her. She definitely wasn't as pretty as Beatriz, though they shared the same features and coloring. The same hazel eyes on Beatriz were bright and clear, while Alba's eyes couldn't seem to decide which color they wanted to be and ended up as a sort of muddy brownish green. The same dark curls on Beatriz were glossy and bouncing with her steps, while Alba's had a tendency to frizz maddeningly in the humid Florida air, so she mostly kept it under a headscarf. Beatriz's figure was all soft curves, while Alba's was straight and flat as a pond cypress.

And most of all, Beatriz, like other girls in their neighborhood, was always making sheep's eyes at Grant. He never paid attention to any of them though. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps he only set his sights on Alba because he liked a conquest.

But Alba had no time to dwell on all of that now. "Yes," she told Beatriz, "and you can ogle him to your heart's content if you man the counter for me."

Beatriz's face fell. "But Papi told me to make the delivery." She gestured to a basket, packed with loaves of bread in paper bags, a box of ham and cheese croquetas, and a box of pasteles filled with guava jam, still warm from the oven.

"Delivery? Where to?" La Perla del Sur Bakery did not do deliveries. Those who knew of their bread and pastries would line up outside its door before the opening time of six o'clock, come rain or shine. 

"The Grunauer place," said Beatriz.

Alba smacked her forehead. Of course. How could she forget?

The late Dr. Grunauer had been their landlord. When they first arrived in Miami from Cuba thirteen years ago, Alba's parents, Mauricio and Ana, had found a nearly dead town, brought to its knees by two great hurricanes and the Great Depression. They had rebuilt their lives alongside the city. They had found this place for cheap, and Dr. Grunauer, a professor at the university, had only been too glad to let them have it after the crash of the land boom. Mauricio had traded his suit and tie for an apron and worked tirelessly next to his wife to open this bakery. But it was difficult to curb the ambition of a high-ranking government official, even if the coup d'état of 1933 had stripped him of his power. Mauricio had borrowed from Dr. Grunauer to buy a vacant beachfront store, hoping to open another La Perla, to be run by Alba's older brother, Rafael. Then came the war, and Rafael joined the Air Force and never came back from the Pacific, and Ana soon followed him, so that was the end of that. The beachfront property was left to languish through the war, and in the end, Mauricio had to cut his loss and sell it for cheap.

Dr. Grunauer, too, had passed away a year before the end of the war. Mauricio was not one to ever forget a debt, and although Dr. Grunauer's only son, who had come home last year, never mentioned it, Mauricio had been sending him bread and pastries and even fresh fruits sometimes, hoping that he would not call in the debt any time soon.

Now Alba snatched the basket out of Beatriz's hand. "I'll go," she said. "You man the counter."

"But—but—" Beatriz glanced at the back, where Mauricio and the assistant baker, young Frank, were busy loading trays of shaped dough into the ovens. Alba knew Papi didn't like Beatriz to be at the front alone, despite the fact that she always drew a crowd, mostly of young men—or perhaps precisely because of that.

"Bea's too busy flirting," he'd once said to Alba. "She'll mistake flan for croquetas and sell her own shoes as pastelitos next. I need you there, to keep an eye on the till and tell me when we're running low on things." And so Alba had no choice but to grin and bear it, though she didn't have Beatriz's natural charm and ease with the customers, and a day working at the till always left her with crescents of sweat under her arms, sore cheeks from having to stretch them into unnatural smiles for so long, and a raging headache.

"The breakfast rush's over, you'll be fine," Alba assured her sister. "I'll be back before lunch." She rushed out the side door before Beatriz could raise further protest and draw Papi's attention.

"Be careful," Beatriz called after her. Alba wondered if the warning was meant to be about Grant or the Grunauer place.

As she wheeled her bicycle out the back gate and down the lane, Alba saw her best friend, Claudia Barron, watering her garden, the hose curving over her pregnant belly. Claudia had spent her whole life in their neighborhood of Cypress Grove. She'd grown up down the street, dated a literal boy next door, Marty, and after Marty came back from the war, they had gotten married and moved into a house on the same street. Sometimes Alba thought she would go crazy if she were Claudia, never going further than a few miles from where she grew up. Other times, she envied Claudia her straightforward life.

"How's Marty Junior?" Alba nodded at Claudia's belly.

"Kicking up a storm last night. It's this heat, I don't think he likes it." Claudia raised a quizzical eyebrow at the bread basket. "Where are you going with those?"

"Delivery to the Grunauer place."

"Some sweetener for Gruesome Grunauer, eh?"

"Don't call him that," Alba said, rolling her eyes.

"It fits him, though. Like father, like son. He's been back for what, a year? Yet nobody's seen him. He's locked himself away in that mansion with all those snakes and gators." Claudia shuddered. "I wonder at your dad, letting you go there alone. Why can't he or Frank go?"

"They're busy," Alba said shortly. "I have to go now."

Without waiting for Claudia's goodbye, she got on her bike and rode away. Claudia was a good friend, but she could be an awful gossip sometimes. "Gruesome Grunauer", indeed! Yes, it was true that Dr. Grunauer had always been rather strange. With his balding head, owlish eyes, and quiet, mumbling voice, he reminded Alba of a mad scientist, like Victor Frankenstein or Dr. Jekyll, and she, like the rest of the neighborhood kids, had been slightly afraid of him. The nickname had started when they found out he raised snakes and other reptiles on his land, and it stuck. There was a rumor that he even kept an alligator. Every Halloween, the kids always dared each other to go to the Grunauer place to get a glimpse of this alligator.

And then there was Mrs. Grunauer too. Apparently she had been bedridden, and nobody had ever seen her. When she passed away, shortly after Alba's family moved to Cypress Grove, people had whispered that Dr. Grunauer had poisoned his wife.

During the war, those childish rumors had persisted and taken on a more malicious tinge. The war hadn't been easy for Dr. Grunauer with his German name and German accent, and some people had even turned against the Reyes for their association with him. And now, with the old man dead and his son back at the mansion, more rumors had surfaced. They said young Grunauer had been badly injured in the war, and those injuries had left him disfigured. It didn't help that he never set foot outside of his home.

Alba never subscribed to the local rumor mill, but she couldn't help feeling a slight sense of trepidation as she rode her bike down the back lane that followed along the Tamiami Trail. Alba preferred this shortcut, which ran right through the cypress swamp west of the city. She had always loved the swamp, loved seeing the bald cypresses rising from it like majestic giants, their trunks dripping with ferns and orchids, loved watching the herons and egrets that waded amongst their roots, loved the thrill of sighting an alligator floating lazily over the dark water. Even with the occasional blare of a truck horn from the interstate in the distance, it still provided a quiet spot in the busy city.

This morning, though, Alba paid no attention to the beauty of nature. Leaning on the pedals, she only hoped that she'd made enough of a head start that Grant wouldn't be able to follow her in his car. She wondered how the Grunauer place had changed. She knew where it was, of course, though she'd been too much of a wimp to come right up to its gate. In her childhood memory, it was the grandest house she'd ever seen, as grand as the Palacio del Valle in her hometown of Cienfuegos back in Cuba. She also wondered what young Mr. Grunauer would be like. Though they were roughly the same age, young Grunauer had never been a part of the Cypress Grove gang—he had been sent to a boarding school in Jacksonville even before Alba arrived, and none of the kids in the neighborhood knew him.

Soon, the lane branched off into two even smaller trails, little more than footpaths lined by willow and cocoplum bushes. Rolling her bike down the right trail, Alba finally came to a clearing. The willows and cocoplums gave way to magnificent oaks covered in Spanish moss that stood on either side of the path like sentinels, guarding the mansion of her memories. It stood back from the path, a little aloof, a little wary, a queen surveying her empire, its white walls shining like a mirage against the dark canopies of the trees surrounding it. A porch held up by tall columns ran around the house, shielding it from the sun and prying eyes. A beautiful frangipani stood in the back, its branches, dotted with star-like blooms, reaching toward the house as if in adoration. If those oaks were the sentinels, then the frangipani was an attendant bowing down to the queen.

Alba shook her head. Such flights of fancy were usually Beatriz's purview; Alba herself was more likely to notice that the yard was overgrown, the porch needed sweeping, one of the window shutters was sagging, and the paint was chipping. A swing full of dead leaves creaked on rusty chains on the porch, adding to the overall abandoned air of the place. As she drew closer, she also saw a sign hanging crooked on one of the oaks, with "BEWARE OF DOG" scrawled across it. This mundane little detail dispelled any fanciful impression she had of the house, and instead of the palace of her childhood, now she only saw a sad, neglected place.

Alba looked around cautiously. There was no sign or sound of the dog she should beware of. Emboldened, she wheeled her bike past the rank of oaks and leaned it against the porch. The front door had no bell—Dr. Grunauer probably had gotten rid of it after the kids played too many games of ding dong ditch, and nobody came out here now—so she knocked instead.

No answer. She knocked again, louder, calling out, "Hello? Anybody home?" From somewhere deep inside the house, there was a bark. Although it was deep and rumbling, it wasn't the bark of a dog one should beware of. It was not ferocious or angry, only rather annoyed, like that of a dog that had been wakened up from a nap.

Alba reached for the door handle. It turned with some protest. She pushed the door open and stepped into a cool, dark front hall. Something crunched under her foot, and Alba looked down to find more dead leaves strewn across a hardwood floor that hadn't been swept in God knew how long. A door on her left was ajar, showing what looked like a living room overlooking the oak-lined drive. Next to this door was a staircase, its top disappearing into the dimness of the second floor. On the top of the stairs were some strange, pale shapes that looked like logs or a rolled-up carpet that somebody forgot to put away. Sunlight from the open door behind Alba couldn't penetrate the gloom, and thoughts of snakes and gators swirled around her head, making her hesitant to step beyond the little patch of light.

"Hello?" she called out again, her voice lost in the profound stillness of the house. "I'm from the bakery. Is there anybody here?"

There was that bark again, more excited than annoyed this time. In the hallway beyond the staircase, a huge shape emerged, silhouetted against the darkness. It was a dog, she could see that. The biggest dog she'd ever seen.

Alba stood rooted to the spot. She only had the presence of mind not to scream. Screaming would only agitate it further.  

The shape came into view. It was a great boarhound, so dark and glossy that it appeared little more than patches of shininess in the dark. It stalked toward her on paws as big as dinner plates, eyes glinting, nose sniffing, tail lifted in alert.

Then, slowly, that tail moved side to side.

Alba couldn't believe her eyes.

The huge dog was wagging his tail. He'd stopped by the bottom of the staircase, seemingly trying to make up his mind about her, but clearly he didn't see her as a threat.

"Here, boy," Alba said shakily, reaching out a hand.

The dog ran to her and almost bowled her over in his eagerness to sniff the bread basket she was carrying. She tried to lift the basket out of reach, but it was quite difficult—when stood on his hind legs, the dog could easily reach her shoulders. "Down, boy," she said. The dog sat and looked up expectantly at her with his liquid black eyes. Alba gave him her hand. He licked it. "Oh, you're just a big softy, aren't you?" she said, laughing in relief and kneeling to rub his ears.

"He's an idiot," said a voice above her.

Startled, Alba looked up. What she'd thought was a roll-up carpet turned out to be a leg encased in khaki pants, and the logs were the arms. A person was lying on the top of the staircase.

"Who are you?" he said. She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the scowl in his voice.

"Alba Reyes," she replied. "I'm from La Perla del Sur."

"La what?"

"The bakery. I'm Mauricio Reyes' daughter. We rent your store in Cypress Grove?"

There was a groan, and the shapes moved. The man was sitting up. The dog gave a little woof and bounded up the stairs to join him. Alba involuntarily craned her neck, trying to get a better look. His face was still half-hidden in the gloom, and in the light shining through the window at the landing, she could just make out a shock of sandy brown curls and a pair of dark, dark eyes. There was no sign of those disfiguring injuries that she could see.

As those eyes met hers, fragments of memories flitted through her mind—a pair of brown eyes, schoolyard noises, the sudden, bright pain of a split lip, and a voice, asking, Where did you learn to punch like that?

Before she could grasp it, the memory was gone, like the reflection on the surface of a pond being broken up by a pebble. The eyes on the top of the stairs were scowling at her again.

"Good morning," she said uncertainly.    

***

Derwin Grunauer was not having a good morning.

He'd woken at five, as usual. Even though he could now sleep in as late as he wanted, the habit developed after eight years of boarding school and three years in the army was hard to shake. He hadn't gotten up though. What would be the point? He had nowhere to be, nobody to see, nothing to do.

But Otto, who seemed to have a sixth sense of when his master was awake, had scratched at the door and whined, demanding to be let out, so Derwin had reluctantly gone downstairs, opened the door, and gave the dog his breakfast. For himself, he hadn't wanted any. His pantry had been empty since the day before, but he loathed picking up the phone to call the grocer. He knew he had to, eventually. Either that or starve to death, and Derwin didn't think he was brave enough or desperate enough for that. And so he'd made himself a cup of coffee with the dregs left in the pot and gone upstairs to mentally prepare himself, otherwise he would start panicking and stammering on the phone like an idiot.

Then his treacherous leg had tripped at the top of the stairs, making the cane fly out of his hand and sending him sprawling face-first across the steps. The fall hadn't hurt that bad—he'd been climbing as fast as his leg allowed, which was not very fast at all—but it had drained him of whatever energy he had, and left him angry and despondent. Angry at himself, at his throbbing leg, at the world in general. And despondent at life. He'd turned over and remained there, ignoring Otto's attempts to pull him to his feet. There was no point in getting up. There was no point to anything. He wished he could have stayed there until he melted in the heat and dissolved into the floor. Eventually, Otto had given up and returned to the kitchen to clean up the remnants of his breakfast.

He hadn't heard the knocks.

It was the smells that hit him first. The heavenly, warm, yeasty smell of freshly baked bread, the rich, savory smell of fried ham, and the buttery, sugary smell of pastries. His stomach growled.

Great. He was so hungry that he'd started hallucinating.

Then he heard the voice. Olfactory and audio hallucinations might be a bit much, so he cracked open an eye and looked for the source of the sound.

Somebody was standing in the front hall. No, not just somebody. A young woman. Wearing a sleeveless blouse and a sensible pair of slacks and sandals, with strands of her dark hair falling out of her headscarf. Sunlight was streaming in through the open door behind her, framing her like a halo as she looked up at him, her mouth falling open in surprise. She was too far away for him to make out the color of her eyes, but he could see that they were light and bright, fixed on him with none of the suspicion and hostility he was used to from other people, only curiosity.

Otto was licking her hand too. Traitor.

Still, Derwin refused to let himself be taken in. A lack of animosity didn't necessarily mean kindness. When he came home last year, after several months in St. Mary's Hospital in Portsmouth and a longer stint at the VA Hospital up in Bay Pines, where they'd tried and failed to get his leg back to working conditions, Derwin hadn't expected much. His father was gone, killed by the strain and loneliness of the war, and they had never been popular in town to begin with. He'd only hoped to settle down and have a quiet life. Yet somehow, what he found was even less than what he'd expected. People turned their backs on him in stores and restaurants, whispering to each other and pulling their children close wherever he went past, calling him Kraut and Jerry and worse. All because he had the misfortune of bearing a German name.

This young woman, whoever she was, probably hadn't heard much about him. The moment she did, she would turn and run, like all the others. And when she said she was renting the old store in Cypress Grove, it fell into place. She was his tenant. No wonder she was friendly. She couldn't afford not to.

"My father asked me to bring you some bread," she was saying.

Derwin's stomach growled again, so loudly that he was sure the young woman heard it from all the way at the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced, mortified.

The bakery... yes, he remembered now. In the past few months, he'd been finding bread and pastries outside his front door with a note saying "Compliments of La Perla del Sur Bakery". He'd been wary, but then he'd come across the name on his monthly bank statements and realized they were just trying to be nice to their landlord. The bread was good, and the pastries were phenomenal. Plus, it saved him from having to go to the store. They had tried knocking at first, and when he never answered them, they just left everything on the porch, like a silent offering to some faceless deity. Once, he hadn't found it until days afterward, when the bread had gone soggy in the humidity and the pastries stale. He'd eaten them anyway.

His love for pastries didn't stop him from feeling annoyed with this young woman for invading his space, however.

"Are you OK?" she asked after a while, when he didn't say anything or make any move. "Do you need help getting up?"

He grunted a refusal.

"Should I bring these into the kitchen for you?" she continued, lifting a wicker basket to show him. The mouthwatering smell intensified.

"No need," he mumbled. "Just set them down there."

"Where?" The woman looked around the front hall. There was no place to put anything, except for a side table piled high with mail that Derwin couldn't bring himself to open.

"Anywhere."

"Your dog may get into them."

"I don't care."

"I'm going to put them in the kitchen," she said in a voice that invited no further argument, and before he could stop her, she was walking briskly down the corridor. She tossed a piece of pastry to Otto, and he immediately followed her, tail wagging. Traitor.

Grumbling under his breath, Derwin pulled himself up by the banister and limped his way downstairs. If he didn't catch her in time, this woman may go through the entire house, and he couldn't have that.

He stumbled off the last step and almost ran straight into the woman, who was coming back from the kitchen.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, catching his arms and helping him stand up straight.

Their eyes met, and Derwin found his breath caught in his throat for a moment. He'd been right—her eyes were light, bright green, gleaming like a forest pool in the shade, where the leafy canopy above is reflected in the quiet depth of the water.

Those eyes flicked briefly to the scar on his left cheek, before turning away, not out of disgust as Derwin had expected, but rather of embarrassment. She took a step back and let go of his arms.

"I've put the bread in your bread box," she said (I have a bread box? though Derwin). "I'm not sure when you want the pastries, so I've put them in your fridge. Heat them in the oven before you eat them, they'll taste better. The guava pastries will go great with some coffee."

That was probably the most anybody had ever said to him in over a year. Derwin stared at the young woman, not knowing what to say. She gave him a smile—quick and uncertain, but a smile nonetheless—and walked out with that same brisk, graceful stride, still followed by Otto, who was gazing at her adoringly.

"Otto, stay," Derwin said sternly when the dog looked like he wanted to follow the woman out the door. Otto reluctantly obeyed.

"Oh and, don't set the oven higher than two hundred degrees when you warm the pastries, or they'll get burned," the woman said over her shoulder, before closing the door behind her. A moment later, Derwin heard her bike rattling down the drive.

He glanced at Otto, who met his eyes with a wistful, reproachful look. "Don't look at me like that," Derwin said. "I didn't chase her off."

Leaving Otto in the front hall to whine and watch the figure on the bike disappear behind the oaks, Derwin limped into the kitchen to retrieve the pastries. She was right; they tasted much better warm, though he wouldn't offend them by pairing them with his dishwater coffee. Otto soon gave up his vigil and came into the kitchen as well, looking inconsolable. Derwin took pity on the dog and shared the ham croquettes with him.

"Just because she gave you pastries doesn't mean that she's your friend," he told the dog.

Otto always fell in love with anyone who showed him the smallest bit of attention. It was a terrible habit.

Chapter 2

So here's the Grunauer fic that I promised! It's my longest to date (82k, 20 chapters plus an epilogue), so I'm going to post it twice a week. If you want to be tagged when I update it, let me know, or you can just check back here every Tuesday and Saturday!

[crowleys-hips]

ventish post

i feel like i sort of ceased to exist since july. i felt a blow nearly as hard as one i felt 4 years ago when i lost someone who's still very dear to me. and since then stuff has just kept happening and happening and happening and i stopped writing my novel and fell back on old bad habits and it really has felt like an exile of sorts. i've expressed it better in some of my poems, both GO and non GO, but that's just the tip of the iceberg tbh.

and i didn't even notice when, but i've recently realized that i also sort of stopped reading, when i used to read every day, all the time. now i sometimes manage to read maybe a short one shot. idk what's happened to me, but i feel like i've lost a huge part of me and years of my youth. like a christian finding out jesus' body has recently been found. or worse, like he never existed. and now it's hard to know where to put my faith in. i guess the right answer should be myself. but i've never known how to live for myself alone. but i want to learn. otherwise this will keep happening. and i know i should go back to therapy, but i feel like im too sick for therapy, if that makes sense.

anyway, my point is that, im really trying to get back on my feet. try to really exist again. act like a human and not fall back on my ghost tendencies. but everything is so overwhelming, like there's so much to do i end up not doing any of it. i stare at all my unread books and fics ive saved for later and im afraid later won't ever come. like i'll never catch up. and it kills me. bc i want to know more of all these brilliant minds, but ive been buried under the rubble of my dreams. im a writer who's forgotten how to read. im an artist who's forgotten how to hold a pen. a musician who now only stares at the piano longingly. my plants are dying and i let them. i want myself back, and i really am trying, but most of the time it feels like i go one step forward and three steps back. i just don't know how to deal with so much death without feeling like i also died. im trying so hard to dig myself out, and prove im not dead yet, but i keep falling asleep, and haunting my own dreams. but im fucking trying. i swear i am.

finally did some watering and pruning yesterday. started a painting and failed miserably but at least now i know what to not do. didn't drink for two nights in a row. my streak was 2 and 1/2 months lol. still writing poems, trying to write more again. i got today free, so i think i'll use today to just let myself read again and try not to feel guilty that "i'm not doing anything" bc i am. watching this fandom's great supportive, caring, and positive attitude has helped. and ofc my dearest friends and my beloved. despite everything, im glad i found this place.

[meamiki]

Hello. I haven't spoken much on the Reverse Entry AU (Modern Office + Reverse Isekai Loop AU). That changes today!!! Have some scattered (relatively long) tidbits on this AU. Mainly background to actually get to the office part of it but, yea!

If anyone wants elaboration on anything on this list, and I do mean anything, I encourage asking!! Or any random questions on the AU general!! Or just things in general!! Make me think about things I have not considered!!

Spoilers for all of ISAT + 2Hats and the like:

Mainly Concrete

The Country -> The Company.

Well, more of a family storefront, but the similarity in those two words next to each other was too good to pass up LOL.

Said storefront was run by Siffrin’s parents, and was their life's work.

Specialized in niche craft related stuff, in both teaching people how to do them & selling materials for the crafts. 

It was a very warm & homely store, and was adored by locals and visitors alike. 

A store that felt comforting to just vibe in for a bit, if that makes sense.

Loop ends up being Siffrin’s roommate after being reverse isekai’ed :)

They do not help with rent

They are a solid night light, which they try to justify as helping with the electricity bill

They also find a mirror shortly after arrival. 

Important Points

Mirabelle & Isabeau have known each other since University and are besties!!!!!!!!!

Not 100% sure of the logistics yet, but this was too important of a point to not include

Additionally, please know at some point, Isa custom stitched the scarf-shawl Mira wears to work all the time now, and gifted it to her!

He is also responsible for the fun pattern on the vest he wears all the time too!

Bonnie, whenever they are hanging around, makes sure to sneak onto Nille’s computer, and block out time between meetings for time to breathe / snacks for the others

And they also make sure to block out like an hour of time for proper lunches as well

Back to back to back to back meetings are not fun!!!

Breaks are important!!!

I have mentioned this in a different post, but this too, is a very important point to not include here as well

Location of Living

Mirabelle & Siffrin live in the same apartment complex, but on opposite sides of it

They have briefly interacted a few times prior to being coworkers? 

But Siffrin had his hair dyed for interviews for a long time

So Mirabelle didn’t realize it was him for a while, since he started growing out the dye before formally meeting in a work environment

Siffrin simply forgor

Isabeau lives relatively close-by to where Mira & Sif live, he visits Mira sometimes!!

He may or may not have also interacted with Siffrin two (2) times prior to working together due to the above point

Nille & Bonnie live around the area Siffrin used to live before he had to move, and have resided in that area for a long time

They technically were neighbors, at one point!

Odile lives closer to the office than everyone else 

Shorter commute for in-office days 

But still in the general vicinity of everyone else's abodes ofc

Hiring Order

Mirabelle has been working in the office the longest (interned two years in a row, and was formally hired right out of University)

Isabeau is next after since he got a referral off of Mira (interned for one year before graduation, then was hired at the same time Mirabelle was)

Odile was hired to replace Euphrasie (previous senior manager to their team who got a promotion, she’s now director of the regional office)

Siffrin was hired a bit after Odile when they got more capacity, since what they were originally doing was way too much for just three people LOL

Apparently, he got a referral from someone internally, but has no idea about it!

Nille was hired a little bit after Siffrin was

She only agreed upon the role if she was granted the flexibility to pick up Bonnie from school whenever

Random RPG Equivalence Hour

Turn Based Combat = Emails 

Whether it be waiting for data to start processes, answering inquiries, so on and so forth

Sometimes those turns take literal days

It happens!

Being Frozen / Damaged = Program Freezing 

This goes for any program being used

If it freezes it inflicts small damage

It inflicts more damage if it crashes

It makes you cry on the floor if the program crashes and you can’t recover any of what you did for the past hour

It makes you regret all of your life decisions up to this moment in time if it crashes, you can’t recover anything, and you have a presentation on the stuff you were working on in 15 minutes

Misc Meetings

Mirabelle writes fanfic

Isabeau knows about this and supports her in her endeavors

Odile has read some of her works, but does not know she wrote them irl

At some point prior to working together, Mirabelle & Odile became mutuals and started trading book / fanfic recommendations to one another

Odile had a brief stint as a bartender prior to working for the office

Mainly to earn some form of income while applying for jobs / waiting for prior certifications to process and transfer properly after moving from another country

In one or another, she met Isabeau and Siffrin at separate intervals while working there

Additionally, the bar is located close to the office. A lot of happy hours happen there. It ended up serving as a networking opportunity for her LMAO

Both Nille and Bonnie moved around a lot when they were younger

At different intervals, Nille went to the same high schools as both Mirabelle & Isabeau

Nille has probably worked a lot of jobs throughout high school / university

This includes working at the same place Odile worked at for a bit, they were probably coworkers there at some point.

Maybe not necessarily a bartender but, general staff

Again, this served as a networking opportunity similar to the Odile segment ASFASDASDA

Um????

Loop somehow ends up becoming a vtuber.

Loop somehow ends up being a vtuber for the company the team works under, akin to Tony the Tiger.

Loop does this vtuber gig for approximately one (1) stream and quits right after.

((loop decided their first stream was a nuzlocke for some reason. the crafts company literally didnt ask them to. they decided this on their own volition for no apparent reason. the company literally asked for a stream where they do crafts?? anyway they named their pokemon after the party. and. well.))

As I am Indecisive, this still has a chance for change! But for now this list is slightly ordered from “concrete in my mind” to “need to let simmer more probably, but the vibes are there” to “probably not but it is a bit of a funny to consider” (this only applies to the last loop segment ASDAFA)

But yea!! Thanks for reading the ramblings :)