officially reached the au!brainrot stage where Iâm drawing scenes that donât exist yet so have a jon Hal Rivers and aegon Young Griff
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baby can we smoke?
eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader
you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.
2.8k
cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.
Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? đ Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)
enjoy xx
Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but itâs the only one that has him curious, âcause itâs from you.
He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you arenât paying attention. Youâre wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadnât pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isnât just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. Itâs more the way you carry yourselfâ you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you donât talk a ton, but when you do, youâll talk to literally anybody whoâs in proximity to you, including the teachers; and youâre always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little âoâ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.
Eddie doesnât wanna call you dumb because thatâd make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so⌠innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadnât actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like youâd been expecting him.Â
âYeah, so,â you say, as if continuing a conversation youâd already been having with him, âI really wanna get high, and Susie said youâre the one who sells weed, but I just donât know how to smoke. Iâve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.â
You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since youâre not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. âSo,â you go on, âIâd just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?â
Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. Itâs funny, but itâs also kind of cute, tooâ Eddie doesnât remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.
Itâs simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little âoâ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way itâs barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. Itâs fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.
âOkay.â Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. Youâre close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessnessâ how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you lookâ elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. âSo, youâre gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else youâll cough it all out and waste it. Here, Iâll show you.âÂ
Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what heâd usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you wonât miss the way heâs collecting the smoke.Â
And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddieâs mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.
âItâs that easy?â you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.
ââS that easy, sweetheart,â Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. âYou ready to give it a try?â
You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers.Â
âYou want me to hold it for you?â Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. âCan Iâ?â
âYeah,â you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isnât helping with those stirrings heâs feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddieâs thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth.Â
âThatâs it,â he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just wonât stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what itâd be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of oneâ all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around hisâ
Your hands are flapping in the air between you like youâre trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as heâd zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking âtil you literally couldnât anymore.Â
Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, âYou didnât have toâ sâtoo much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?âÂ
Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. âOkay, thatâs enough,â he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. âNow, slowlyââ he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, âslowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.â
You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. âOkay, hold it for a few,â he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.
âI did it!â you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.
âYou did,â Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his ownâ quicker but deeper than his firstâ and inclines his head once heâs released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. âYou wanna try it again?â
âDefinitely,â you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell.Â
For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddieâs feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. Heâs high enough that he doesnât have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesnât feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. Heâs consumed instead with sensationâ the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at youâ sweet, soft, sensual you â Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.
The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. Itâs one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasnât any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddieâs used to feeling that influence, but youâre not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.
âDoes it feel nice? The high,â he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little âoâ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.
âMm-hmm.â You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. âFeels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my headâs not as heavy anymore.â
Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and heâs suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound youâd make. He doesnât do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what heâs looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.
Encouraged, Eddieâs hands travel thenâ tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.
He doesnât know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. âCan I take these off?â Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But youâre quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that.Â
The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if youâll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs.Â
 "Aw, lookâit her,â he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. âCan't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.âÂ
If youâre cute, your pussy is adorableâ plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. âOh, she's so pretty, baby,â Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. âAnd sheâs so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me."Â
You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Arenât you just a sweet little thing."
âRâyou gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?â you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he canât help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief.Â
âYeah, baby,â he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. âIâm gonna eat your pussy.â
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the good friend
f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez
smut | mdni
3.4k
san has known about mingiâs crush on his girlfriend for a while now. he also happens to be a very good and caring friend who values their friendship very much. and san would do just about anything to help a friend
nsfw tags under the cut
a lil plot, idol!au, established relationship, bf san, mingi is the simp master, also rengoku hair mingi because i miss him, alcohol consumption (but consent is unquestionable), safe word mentionned but not used, pet names, (baby, princess, sannie...), unprotected sex (recommanded by 0/10 dentists), wall sex, semi public sex (full dorm hallway sex), exhbitionism/voyeurism, dirty talk, slight breath play (gentle), masturbation (f & m), controlled orgasm (f)
a/n: OMGGGG THIS ONE IS JUST SDMLKSQDMMSQLKKFF. i kinda like how turned out because im feral and shameless when it comes to these men. if you like it PLEASE TELL ME i might make a part 2 đ
@shinestarhwaa for you boo <3
sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation
Itâs funny how Mingi is still stuck in this same situation years later, he thought while staring at you from across the kitchen table. When he first saw you 5 years ago, your back leaned against the company building, eyes glued to your phone, he thought of how pretty you were but he was late for practice again and he knew he was going to be scolded by Hongjoong so he just hurried himself in.
This encounter should have been left at that, he would have forgotten about you the next day and he would be at peace right now.Â
But no.
You were still waiting there when he got out much much later at night, sweaty, tired and starving. He took a look at you again but this time you lifted your face from the screen of your phone and your eyes met. He didnât know why he was flustered and cursed himself silently when he whipped his head to the side, quickly breaking eye contact. But despite the uninviting body language you took the first step in his direction. It took everything he had in him not to stumble back and stand his ground in the most natural way he could muster given his current state.
âHmm⌠Excuse me?â you started hesitantly, âHmm⌠Iâm looking forâŚâ Mingi was all ears and eyes for you, focussing on your every move and word. In that split instant he noticed the color of your eyes, the soft texture of your hair and the mesmerizing way your lips moved to form words, that made sentences which he was supposed to listen to and he was arguably doing a poor job. But right when he was losing focus you were interrupted.
âY/N!!â Sanâs voice resonated from the entryway. You whipped your head in the direction of the voice and turned away from Mingi with the most radiant and heavenly smile he had ever seen.Â
âNevermind. Thank youâ you said quickly before running to Sanâs side.Â
Mingi stood there for a second completely stunned as he watched the pair of you walking away, Sanâs hand reaching for yours right before you disappeared at the intersection.Â
The next day San made him promise not to tell anyone he saw you waiting for him. He didnât tell him exactly you were his girl but Mingi was smart enough to figure that out on his own.
And that should have been the end of the story. You should have remained Sanâs secret girlfriend and Mingi would have forgotten about you and your perfect smile in a week or twoâŚ
But once again⌠no. It did not go that way.
Over the years it got worse. You both grew, you werenât 18 anymore. You grew into a beautiful, stunning woman and Mingi grew into a man. And you even became friends. With the years you got to meet the rest of Ateez. You became friends with all of them but you were closest to Mingi without a doubt, much to his disarray.
Thatâs exactly how he came to stare at you from across the kitchen table as you were leaning your head on Sanâs broad shoulder, barely holding your head up as you had one too many bottles of grapefruit soju. San was gently caressing your flushed cheek.
Everybody was laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves, but Mingi who was also slightly drunk just couldnât stop staring at you, stealing glances at you through his eyelashes. To the others he looked like he was zoning out like he usually does after a drink or two but in fact he was focussing on you. Precisely on your neck and the sleeve of your top slowly sliding off your shoulder. The large and rounded neckline of your loose oversized top was barely hanging to the edge of your shoulder at this point and if you moved even in the slightest it would completely expose your shoulder. To everyone present that wasnât a big deal. Nobody had even noticed apart from Mingi. And when you lift your head up again to bark at Wooyoung that was making fun of you for being a lightweight it happened.
The tired sleeve gave in. Mingi had a front row seat on your delicate collar bone and the smooth skin of your shoulder lightly shiny. If only that was it he could have handled it but the large neck line was also hanging very low on your chest so low that his eyes were rapidly forgetting about your shoulder to solely focus on your chest. His eyes scanned the shadow of your cleavage, the ceiling light was casting on you, he imagined how your breasts would feel in his large palms, how soft your skin would be and how your nipples would taste on his tongue.
He thought so much that he started pitching a tent in his large cargo pants. The tent of shame like he liked to call it. The tent he tried to fight off so many times because San was one of his best friends⌠And you were⌠his.
That thought broke his own heart.
âWell! Iâm swamped, guys. Iâm going to bedâ he declared getting up, both fists stuffed in his large pockets concealing the âshameâ.
The others grumbled to make him stay. They were having a nice time but honestly he just wanted to catch a break from his own heart and hop into the shower.
San knew exactly why he wanted to leave. He had known for a while about Mingiâs feelings for you. In reality everyone knew except for two people. One was Mingi who thought he was so good at concealing himself when in reality he was staring at you like a puppy all day and the other one was yourself. You just never noticed because to you Mingi was a friend, an attractive friend, granted! But a friend nonetheless. You didnât think further than that. To you the idea of him having feelings for you was so far-fetched that the thought never entered the realm of possibilities.
Once Mingi had decided to go, the members followed one by one, Hongjoong was the second one. At the end only Wooyoung and Yeosang were playing a drinking game while you and San crashed on the couch.Â
San was absentmindedly playing with your hair when he caught your hand dangerously slipping below his belt. He gripped your wrist firmly, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
âY/n~~â he quietly singsang. He knew that was going to happen. Alcohol had only one single effect on you. It made you horny. Without fail, whenever you all gathered like this and drank, it made you feral. And today San felt mischievous.
***
Mingi exhaled a big sigh before stepping in the shower, the hot water running on his large back helped him take his mind off the chatter and laughter erupting from the living room at the end of the hall for a while he just glided the soap across his body. The hot air made him dizzy. He felt the warm water on his face letting the stream run down his hair. As he closed his eyes, flashes of you came back to him.Â
Your cute flushed face, eyelids half closed, your eyes made sparkly from the soju, this adorable dorky smile you wore all evening, the exposed patch of skin, the neckline of your top hanging so low on your chest. He wondered without even realizing about the way he would have loved to lay you down on that table right there. Peeling your clothes one by one, taking his sweet time admiring your body slowly giving away all its secrets.Â
He felt himself becoming hard again. He kept his eyes shut as he guided the soapy foam along his half hard member.Â
He dreamed about the melodic wet sounds you would make when he would slide inside you, about the way you would grip him so perfectly, about how your eyes would roll back and your lips would lazily hang open as you lost yourself to his cock, abandoning yourself to him, only him.
He gripped his length even tighter, rapidly dragging his fist up and down his shaft, turning his tip bright red from his arousal and the hot water.
He thought even harder about your hands muffling your high pitched moans shamefully as his powerful thrusts rocked your body under him.
Fuck he wants to see you like that, he wants to have you like that he thought as he drove himself crazy, on the verge of bursting. He felt himself twitch in his hand, precum and soap mixing perfectly making this sinful act easier than ever.Â
âFuckâ he grunted considering to finally let himself go but at the last second he opted out of it. He suddenly let go of the aching organ, twitching and pulsing, hot and dripping red tip begging for release.
But Mingi just couldnât keep doing that anymore. Just seeing you in the day act like your friend and fuck himself to the thought of you at night. He had to somehow snap out of this trance, break free from the spell you casted on him five years ago back in Gang-nam.
After five years he had to come to the realization that you were with San and you would never be with him.
So without thinking twice Mingi turned the water from scolding hot to icy. That had two purposes: one calming his raging boner and two taking his mind off the painful reality he had to accept. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and hissed in discomfort at the sudden temperature change. But it was efficient enough.
He quickly dried off and wrapped the wet towel around his waist. He crossed the living room to head out to the hall where San's room and his were. But when he entered the hallâŚ
âPleaseâ
Immediately he hid behind the corner of the L shaped hall out of pure instinct. That kind of sounded like⌠you?
âPleaseâ you whimpered again.Â
This time there was no doubt it was in fact your voice.Â
âCanât we do it in your room?â you asked, your voice interrupted by muffled moans.
âNo I wanna take you right hereâ San responded, determined.
âBut what if Mingi comes back from his shower?â
San smirked. That was exactly his intention but he just chuckled and brushed off the question.Â
âAlso if you really didnât want to do it here. Youâd use the safe word, right baby?â Sanâs smirk grew bigger as you stayed silent. âWanna use the safe word baby?â
âNoâŚâ you admitted half heartedly.
âThatâs what I thoughtâ he said brushing his tip against you.
San wanted to be caught. He couldn't explain it properly but recently he started thinking about maybe offering Mingi some kind of relief. Because heâs had that huge crush on you for so long it must be really troublesome for him, right? So this little show for him was kind of a way to blow some steam off for him. Yeah! Thatâs right! San was doing that out of the goodness of his heart, out of friendship! Because he cared oh so dearly about his friend and not because the idea of having an audience flipped a switch in him. A flip heâs been fantasizing about for a while now.
âSpread your legsâ San whispered.Â
Mingiâs heart rattled against his ribs and rang in his ears. He held his chest as he didnât even dare to breathe, not to mention move a single muscle.
âBabygirlâ San started his lips pressed against the thin skin of your neck. âYouâre already this wet for meâ
His fingers brushed against your center, still clothed but already soaking wet.
âWere you touching yourself at the table again?âÂ
You nodded shyly. You just couldnât help getting incredibly horny every time you had a drink.
âYesâ you admitted in a shameful whisper.
âWhat a naughty girl. Passing the blush as an effect of the alcohol when in fact you're touching yourself under the table despite your boyfriendâs friends gathered all around you.â you whined. âMaybe itâs even exactly why you couldnât resist the urge huh baby?â
Mingi bit his lip, trying his hardest not to gasp. To think that you busied your hands into your folds while he was eyeing your exposed chest. And to think maybe, just maybe, you exposed yourself on purpose?
âPlease⌠SannieâŚâ you begged again.
Mingi was going crazy. This whole time he was just leaning his bare back on the wall, dampened locks of hair, trailing water down his body. He couldnât see anything he didnât dare to move a muscle but fuck did he want to have a peek. Before he could even realize the raging boner was back on. Forcefully pulling up the towel he had tied around his hips.
âI love it when you beg babyâ San whispered, lips pressed to your blazing skin.
Me too.Â
Mingi thought so loud he was scared you would both hear him. One hand instinctively traveled to his engorged member, giving it a firm squeeze at the base while the other hand was pushing his flaming red and yellow hair back.
âPlease⌠I canât wait anymoreâ you said, granting your boyfriendâs wish.
âPlease what, baby?â San teased again as he pushed your panties to the side. You hissed when you felt his tip brush against your bare pussy, digging your nails in his broad back.
âCock!â you hurriedly replied, lust filling your mind. So eager you could barely form intelligible sentences âI want your cockâ you demanded in a strangled whisper, hardly keeping your voice down.
Mingi had fought the idea of you against his own mind too many times today. He won at the dinner table and he won again in the shower but this battle⌠Knowing you there begging to be filled to the brim, exposed for anyone who might stumble across the sinful scene⌠He couldnât fight that. He had to look. He had to see you.
So he dared. He dared to peek, just enough to have a look. Just one eye is all it took. And he sawâŚ
He saw the both of you entangled into each other, both facing one another, your back pressed against the wall while San gripped your hips firmly with one hand and lifted one of your legs up with the other to grant himself access to your beautiful and soaked little pussy. He saw his friendâs smirk and eyebrow twitch as he gently pushed himself into your welcoming folds. But all this was only anecdotal. Because nothing, nothing! could come close to you. Mingi only had eyes -one eye in this case- for you.
He saw how your mouth went agape as you took him in, he saw how you arched your back and rested your head on the wall you were pressed up against. And he heard you trying your hardest not to make a noise and failing so miserably, much to his contentment.Â
That sound, that fucking sound. He will never forget.
The raspy sigh you produced, audible bliss dripping from your lips as you refused to close your eyes, taking in the exalted face of your boyfriend.
San spotted from the corner of his eyes the flaming red strands of hair peeking from the angle of the hall. It made him smirk, his little scheme had worked. It made him even more determined to put on a good show for his friend, determined to drag those beautiful sounds out of you until you would beg him to stop. And you could have sworn you felt him grow even bigger inside you.
Without a second thought San settled a pace that was especially designed for you. Deep and slow. Just enough to keep you on edge. With every roll of his hips into yours you felt every single inch of his length deliciously scraping your clenching walls, gripping him desperately.
âFuckkkâ you cried out, biting down on your lower lip.
âYou like that baby?â San asked you, the evil twinkle of lust dancing in his eyes.
âYesssâ you sighed, barely holding yourself up on the only leg that was supporting you.Â
You gasped as he bottomed out again, this time staying there for a while. You instantly started to rock your hips into his, desperately clinging onto the friction.
âThatâs right babyâ San growled as his veiny hand left your side to tightly wrap around your narrow neck. âFuck yourself on my cockâ
And you were more than happy to oblige. You lost it at his words, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to coerce you.
Unholy wet squelching noises bounced back on the walls of the narrow hall all the way to Mingi ears. His hands violently pumping up and down his cock, thick slimy precum coating his tip and being dragged with each movement along his shaft. It was so hard not to make any noise but he pulled himself together just so he could keep looking at you.
âSannie Please⌠Fuck me harderâ the last ounce of bashfullness had evaporated out of your body as the carnal sin was clouding your judgement. âFuck me senselessâ your tone was demanding. You just couldnât bear it anymore. You wanted to cum. You need to cum.
Mingi can't believe his ears or his eyes or any of his senses as a matter of fact⌠To hear you say these words with so much drive, so much desire. To see you plead with those sultry eyes⌠If only he was the one right there between your legs right now. If only he was the one pumping his hot and dripping cock into you until completion. If only he was the one feeling your cunt clench and pulse around him.
âYour wish is my command, Princessâ San whispered before he caught your other leg and lifted you up, flipping both your legs onto his shoulders and folding you in two against the wall. And he slid himself right back in. Where was his rightful place. You gasped, this position allowed him to go even deeper and tears started to cloud your vision as his tip so precisely hit on your sensitive spot. Both of your hips perfectly angled to fit inside each other.
âFuck yessss⌠j-just like thatâ you whispered through gritted teeth. âPlease donât stop Sannieâ. Your voices shaken with each of Sanâs violent thrusts. âFuck I love your cockâ you sobbed as your eyes lost their focused and your mind slipped in thick foggy haze. And San chuckled, his eyes leaving yours for a split second to briefly look at the flamboyant orange tuft of hair peeking from the corner of the hall.
Fortunately Mingi was way to focus on you to notice San had spotted him.
Mingi was about to burst but he was determined to cum with you. Picturing your twitching cunt in place of his gripping fist.
You were a couple of thrusts away from coming undone and San knew it. He knew everything about your body. He knew every micro expression, every sound, every queue.
âYouâre gonna cum baby?â he asked, short of breath.
âYessssâ you whined, trying hard not to cum on the spot.
âCum now. Cum on my cock right nowâ he ordered.
That was what you needed. In a split second you let go of the knot youâve been desperately hounding on to and completely lose your sanity in an earth shattering orgasm that washes over your body.
Quickly followed by Mingi. Uncontrollably twitching and delivering what felt like gallons of cum in the towel, completely soiling it. Maybe even ruining it forever. It was so good, he never came like this. So good that an ever so audible groan of bliss slipped past his lips and into the world. Instantly he bit his lip and stopped breathing but it was too late.
San also let himself go, a smirk dancing on his lips as he happened to catch the shameful groan. You were unaware of why but that amount of cum was unprecedented and you attributed it to the thrill of the fear of getting caught. But San knew it was simply the joy and fulfillment of being a good friend.
IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS đ¤
a/n: what a ride dskfmkfmdkmfl. you liked it? you want part 2? SPAM MY COMMENTS AND ASKS AND REBLOGS BECAUSE I LOVE READING YOUR REACTIONS MY POOKIES <333 (a threesome in part 2? đ)
sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation
taglist: @staytiny816 @onysmamas
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kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving⌠except he forgot it was his birthday đ
read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! đŤś
â
âThis looks absolutely nothing like me!â Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.
Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.
Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and heâs feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, âHow many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?â
Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.
âDo whatever you want with it then,â Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.
Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if heâs angry or evenâŚpouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.
Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.
Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because heâs in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasnât supposed to?
Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the clientâs meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.
He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.
Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.
âAh! Sorry!â Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, âCollei! I didnât know you were in town today!â
Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.
âItâs so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?â Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. Heâs not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasnât figured out what he did wrong.
âUh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,â Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, âIf you will excuse me, I really need to get going.â
Then she takes off before he can say another word.
Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?
After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambadâs Tavern.
He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though itâs merely 5PM.
âHey, Kaveh!â Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, âThat oneâs on the house! Happy Birthday!â
Oh. Shit.
A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
âHow could I forget!â he cries, standing up abruptly, âIt is my birthday!â
He tells Lambad that heâll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.
Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.
âNo, waitâ-â Kaveh tries to catch his breath, âD-donât throw that away!â
âOh?â Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. âSeems like you finally remember something.â
âSorry for what I said this morning,â Kaveh blurts out, âI know it sounds like an excuse but that clientâs project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldnât have taken it on you.â
Alhaitham looks at him silently.
âAlright, alright,â Kaveh puts two hands in the air, âI apologize for calling it ugly.â
The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.
Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, âWill you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?â
âWell, I wouldnât go that far,â Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.
Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.
âI donât know whatâs gotten into me this morning,â he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. âSure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the morâ- Hey!â
âI changed my mind,â Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. âIâm taking it back.â
Kaveh blinks.
âWhat did you just say!?â he raises his voice.
âI donât see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesnât appreciate it,â he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.
âHow do you know I donât appreciate it!?â Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, âThis is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!â
That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.
Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribeâs hand and sits up.
âHa!â Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. âYou cannot walk away from me this time! Donât you know that itâs rude to take back what you have given!?â
When there isnât any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.
Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.
âWere you just teasing me!?â he asks with a high-pitched voice, âOh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?â
âI couldnât help,â he is still laughing, âYou shouldâve seen your face.â
Itâs extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.
âYou can have the Aranara,â Alhaitham says with a smile, âWill you get off me now? Although I donât really mindâ-â
Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaithamâs chest.
The Scribeâs eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.
Seeing whatâs on there, he is speechless.
Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.
âYou carved this,â he asks softly, âfor me?â
After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, âYes.â
Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.
âThatâs why youâve been coming home late for the past week!â Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.
âYou knowing this wasnât part of the plan, I was too careless.â he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. âNow itâs good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.â
âNuh-uh,â Kaveh pokes his chest, âThis Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.â
âYou have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt thenâ Alhaitham teases.
âHey!â
âI think wood craving has grown on me.â Alhaitham smiles, âSo Iâm afraid youâll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.â
âCome on, they are not that ugly,â Kaveh chuckles, âBut we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they donât disrupt the current aesthetic.â
The Scribe canât help but roll his eyes at this comment.
âSeriously though, thank youâ Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, âItâs the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.â
The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, âHappy Birthday, Kaveh.â
After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kavehâs face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.
The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cynoâs jokes are funnier than usual.
Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.
And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaithamâs, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadnât met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?
He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaithamâs advice, the sensible ones at least.
âDonât burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the futureâ, he would say.
So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.
(END)
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ŕŠâŠâ§âË HEY TWITTER! (AA23)
pairing: alex albon x f!reader
summary: alex spends the night of a concert dancing with a beautiful stranger, he remembers everything about her, from her outfit to what her favorite song was â well, except for her name.
genre: humour, fluff
authors note: dedicated to my fabulous đŞ anon for the most incredible idea (and also just being the most beautiful human being)
*faceclaim for y/n: yasmin wijnaldum (but please imagine her as you see fit)
dutch anthem antis ŕŠâŠâ§âË
alex_albon just tweeted ŕŠâŠâ§âË
twitter reacts ŕŠâŠâ§âË
meanwhile, texts between lily and y/n ŕŠâŠâ§âË
lilymhe just posted a photo ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by yourusername and 23,018 others
lilymhe one of us had way too much to drink last night, you have one guess
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yourusername um idk this is really difficult
lilymhe itâs the sticker gem still on your face that is getting me
user waitâŚ. is this herâŚ
lilymhe is this WHO
user GUYS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE HER
user GOOD JOB INTERNET
user @/alex_albon CAN YOU CONFIRM OR DENY
alex_albon OH MY
user IM TAKING THAT AS A YES
new activity ŕŠâŠâ§âË
alex_albon started following yourusername âĄď¸
âŹ
ď¸ yourusername followed alex_albon back
dutch anthem antis ŕŠâŠâ§âË
y/nâs dms with alex ŕŠâŠâ§âË
yourusername just posted a photo ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and 50,081 others
yourusername challenge: which one of us had the most fun this past few days
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alex_albon well if you donât say you then i fear i bought you dinner for no reason
user IT WAS HER!!! WE DID IT GUYS
user he found out who she was a few hours ago and heâs already on her instagram⌠maybe he has more power than we thought
lilymhe definitely not me iâve been sat in a hotel room while you go meet boys
yourusername he bought doughnuts for us to share. omw to you with them nowđ¤
lilymhe i take it back @alex_albon you can stay
alex_albon just posted a photo ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by yourusername and 150,608 others
alex_albon a story in 3 parts
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user idk what you did but iâm sure you deserved that middle finger
yourusername that food coma hit different
lilymhe youâre telling me i walked in to you both laying like vampires passed out
user the plot thickens
user heavily entertained by the idea of alex legitimately falling in love with a girl whilst drunk, hunting her down using the internet, and then going instagram official within 72 hours
user i donât think theyâre dating aha
user @/user ok well if he doesnât want her then i do
user okay answer quickly are yâall dating
yourusername no one knows
alex_albon dating? whatâs dating?
dutch anthem antis ŕŠâŠâ§âË
williamsracing just posted a photo ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by yourusername, mclaren and 100,058 others
williamsracing hit tweet, whoâs this?
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user WILLIAMS I LOVE YOU
lilymhe can u ask him to order me more doughnuts pls
user so real, using best friend privileges
user heâs not a want but a need
yourusername oh i miss that face alreadyâšď¸
liked by alex_albon
mclaren @/williamsracing heard you may be in need of our services�
williamsracing weâre listeningđ
mclaren plans are already in actionđ¤
yourusername just tweeted ŕŠâŠâ§âË
twitter reacts ŕŠâŠâ§âË
williamsracing just posted stories ŕŠâŠâ§âË
dutch anthem antis ŕŠâŠâ§âË
yourusername just posted a photo ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 56,109 others
yourusername safe to say he learnt the meaning of the word dating
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user FINALLY
user alex albon most successful twitter user
lilymhe AND I DIDNT HEAR ABOUT THIS???
yourusername i tried to ring you but you didnât pick upđ
lilymhe @/yourusername RING ME AGAIN WTF
alex_albon @/lilymhe sheâs busy rnđ
lilymhe @/alex_albon GROSS
alex_albon @/lilymhe NOT LIKE THAT
alex_albon just posted a photo, 1 year later ŕŠâŠâ§âË
liked by landonorris, yourusername and 105,660 others
alex_albon got her number, remembered her name, kept her around for a year
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user wow who said romance was dead huh
user when we talk about having fanfic moments⌠thatâs these two
user ok now bring her to the next race we miss seeing her in the paddock
landonorris and yet IM the one with no rizz
yourusername your girlfriend literally called you cute and you folded. shut up.
landosgf babe our relationship started because you hit me with your car ? thatâs not rizz itâs stupidity
landonorris i regret ever introducing you two
yourusername i love you, or whateverđ
mclaren @/williamsracing iâm not seeing a thank you?
williamsracing logan would have thanked us
alex_albon yes thatâs right set him up next
logansargeant no thank yOU i canât deal with the headache
ââââââ
a/n: okayđ¤ first post in a while. half written pre baby half written post. hopefully iâve still got it LMAO. off to finish some written bits / write a new oscar imagine idea i had over the month
will i ever stop this mclaren matchmaking saga? i donât think so
taglist: @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @bingewatche @sebvettelsgirl @casperlikej @geniusalpaca @namgification @orangetreekid @
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Hallooo I love your writing sm itâs literally so yummyŮŠ(ŕšâá´âŕš)Űś Would it be possible to do a scenario with the boys in which reader calls them and itâs really vague (like maybe reader just got off from a fight and theyâre really hurt and kind of loopy because of the blood loss or something but theyâre not dying just taking a punch induced sleep (but the boys donât know that LMAO)) and then just ends it with âI might not be able to come today, I love youâ (imagine if the boys couldnât pick their phone up at first so reader leaves a voice message đ) (With suo if possibleđ(and maybe any of the other boys)) Once again thank you so much for making these works, theyâre such a fun readŮŠ( á )Ů
⸝ â°ăâ HIS WORLD IN A LOOP â
âËâż pairings. hayato suo x gn. reader
âËâż contents. reverse angst, comfort, fluff
âËâż note. hope it was to your liking :)
SUO was busy that day, that was apparent. The entirety of Furin was dealing with a water leakage in the school as a result of a recent thunderstorm, and everyone, regardless of their commitments, volunteered to help patch up the school that was their meeting place, including Suo.Â
Umemiya came up to him with a sheepish expression, musing, âMannn, sorry about this you guys. Are you sure you all donât have anything else to do?â
Mitsuki, finally pulling his head out of the clouds, looked up from his phone. âHm? Oh, sure. But can I finish my game first? Iâm almost past this round.â
Tsugeura, shouting it to the entirety of the classroom, declared, âI will help out as well! To restore the school to its former glory! Thatâs my virtue!â
âHeâs definitely dying youngâŚâ everyone deadpanned.
Sakura narrowed his face into a grimace. âThen get to working instead of spitting nonsense, you lazy lump.â
âS-Sakura-san! Y-You canât say that!!â
âWhat? Who says you can tell me what I can and canât say?â
âAww, donât be such a jerk, Sakura-kun!â Suo chimed in.
âHUH?â
Hiragi, who was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, exhaled a sigh. âWhat about you, Suo?â
Suo shook his head. âIf everyone else is pitching in to help, then itâs only right that I should, too," he said, flashing a smile that made Hiragi feel a sense of relief that there was at least one sane person in this room of madness.
Sakura, paying little attention, scoffed. âFigures. Of course, something like that would come out of your mouth.â
Hard labour followed as they all got to work, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into their tasks. So much so, that, when Suoâs phone, which was in his pocket, rang, he could hardly even hear it. Rather, he attributed it to a hallucination. But seeing that it was your name on the caller ID, he excused himself almost instantly.Â
He held the phone to his ear, âHello?â
Silence.Â
âHello? Hello? Y/n? Are you alright?â
â...â
Silence again, but Suo couldâve sworn that he heard something else, and it didn't help his already confused state. Right as your voice came through in the most stomach-churning way imaginable.
âHayato, I might not be able to come to the cafe today⌠I love you.â
And then the phone cut-off, making Suoâs face scrunch up in confusion. Suo was silent for a second, and then another. What on earth did you mean by that?! Suo could've sworn that he heard the sounds of ambulances from the other end of the phone, which didnât exactly ease his worries, but it was as good a start as any. And so, thatâs where he was going to go.
And after sweat and quite literal tears being shed, Suo arrived, and banged his heads onto the counter of the font desk.Â
âIs a patient named y/n here?!â
The nurse nodded her head, typing rapidly on the monitor before directing him with a wave of her hand and a short message of where you were supposedly located.
The elevator ride felt excruciatingly long, all the while tapping his foot up and down in agitationâand the worried looks from the other people in the elevator (at a rather far distance, mind you) didnât exactly calm his nerves.
âHayato!" you lit up. "Youâre here! Sorry about that, I called you earlier, but my phone cut off at thââ
But before you could mutter another word, Suo took you into his words, making the nurses and doctor quickly scramble out of the room so they didnât ruin this âromantic moment.â Romantic moment in hell, perhaps.
âWhat happened? How did it happen? Did you fall? Where did you get all those injuries??â It was so unlike him to worry, and yet, you felt his concern seep through every word.
âI just tripped and fell face-first onto the ground! Nothing serious.â You exchanged a smile, in hopes to assure him that your jury wasnât serious, but Suo begs to differ. But regardless, you continued to ramble. âThe doctor told me that Iâd be better as soon as in 24 hours, once I get some proper bed rest and medication.â
Suoâs entire face went pale. âHow could you ever say that is enough for you to be fine?!? Do you not know that the ground youâre talking about is concrete?!â
âWell, now I do.â
âY-You⌠You had me so worried,â he exhaled in and out with deep, laborious breaths, and who could blame him? For all he knew, he assumed that you were seriously hurt. âI thoughtâŚâ
Gently, you placed your hand over his. âOh, Hayato, you worry too much.â
He exhaled a sigh. âIâd argue that I donât worry enoughâŚâ
âDonât be such a worrywart,â you chuckled, remaining lighthearted. âLook! I can get up and walk just fine! Just watch me walk out of here with no problem!â
âY-Y/n?! What are you doing?! Stay in bed!!!â
âFine~â Doing what you were told, you sunk your body back into the mattress and blanket, which, admittedly, you found rather comfortable. You stifled a chuckle once you saw the expression on Hayato's face, a mix of exasperation, relief, and sweat that dripped from his forehead down to the ground
Seeing the chaotic scene that is you finally deciding to rest and taking a heartfelt breather, Suo collapsed back into his seat, leaning his head backwards and fixing the mess of his heart from the mess you made. âYouâre lucky that I love youâŚâ
You cracked a smile. âI know, Hayato. I know.â
Before long, you drifted off to sleep.
Suo hardly found it amusing, not when he was scared half to death that even heâsomeone usually so composedâcould act this way over someone else. But then again, you were not just âsomeone else.â
Suo stifled a smile when you were asleep. His heart ached, and he gently reached out to caress your hand with both of his, careful as to not wake you. Holding your hand to his face, he felt the warmth of your soft, tender, yet bruised skin against his cheek.
He was just glad that you were okay...
With a tenderness that belied his usual enigmatic manner, he kissed your ring finger softly, his lips lingering close by as if to imprint the moment in his memory forever. A simple act filled with unexpressed affection that he could not bring himself to voice.
âYouâre exhausting, but I love you so muchâŚâ
Unbeknownst to him, you werenât fast asleep, nor were you dozing, but fully awake and dazed out of your mind from Suoâs sudden confession.
Šhxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated âĄ
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Bound to falling in love
-°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°--°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°-
Mick Schumacher x reader Soulmate AU
Warnings: None that I can see?
Notes: Unsurprisingly this won the vote. But I hope you like it :)
Summary: Mick Schumacher has been extremelyprivate with how soulmark his whole life. But what happens when the interest does ehat its best at, snooping. Well Mick Schumacher might just finally meet the celebrity that he doesn't at all have a tiny crush on...
-°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°--°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°-
â-â-â-â-â
Yourusername
Yourusername: WE ARE SO BACK BABY!!đ¤đ¤ Mercedes CCH 2024 Incoming (I'm delusional)
Liked by Mickschumacher, Lewishamilton and 756,986 others
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User1: I knew Y/N was an F1 girlie but I didn't know she was a Mercedes girlđ¤
âłYourusername: Have been for everđ¤
User2: Y/N is like me fr eith that caption
âłUser3: Fr thoughđ Like wdym 2nd place in sprint doesn't mean Lewis will get his 8th!?
âłYourusername: Maybe he performed so well just to improve his ex-husband
âłUser4: LMAO Poor Nico
Lewishamilton: Glad to see your support lies in the right placeđŞ
âłYourusername: OH my gosh. Sir Lewis Hamilton. It is an honour to speak to you
âłLewishamilton: Maybe you should come to the Mercedes garage some time. I think certain people would love your companyđ
âłUser5: I think he just killed Y/N
âłUser6: Wa she talking about himself or someone else. George perhaps? I'M so nosy!!!
âłUser7: Well Mick is in the likes so that's where my money is...
âłUser8: Sure grandma, the mkst soul ate obsessed obsessed In existence is caught up over Y/N...
âłUser7: I mean it is Y/N Y/L/N
âłUser8: True...
User9: Mick being in the likesđ
âłUser10: Meh even if he does have a thing for Y/N, he'll still stick to his soulmate like he has done for decades.
âłUser11: Hear me out, Y/N is his soulmate...
âłUser10: Girl actualy shut up
âłUser11: Just look at that twitter thread
âłUser10: Hmmm interesting. It looks like it could be possible but the chances are 0.001% of it being her. Just because one user recognised it doesn't mean it's her
User12: Is anyone else really confused by all this talk of the twitter thread and that "one reply"
Liked by Yourusername
âłUser13: basically people are trying to find out who Mick's soulmate is and currently people think it's Y/N
âłUser12: OH... how random
âłUser13: Yeah but tell me they wouldn't make the perfect couple...
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âłUser14: Y/N liking this comment + its replies twice is wild and shows she's as curious as us...
â-â-â-â-â
Mick's phone
â-â-â-â-â
â-â-â-â-â
Your phone | Mick's | Your phone
â-â-â-â-â
Yourusername
Yourusername: This guy wouldn't leave me alone in Italy. He says he's in the family business of driving cars or smt
Liked by Mickschumacher, Lewishamilton and 1,023,987 others
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User1: NO WAY.... DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES
âłUser2: Girl probably? Hopefully? Idk?
User3: We don't need confirmation now...but also we so do!!!
User4: Awww they really are perfect for each other!đĽşđĽ°
Liked by Mickschumacher, Yourusername
Lewishamilton: Glad you two finally found the time to go on a proper date rather than letting Mick ogle you all day!
âłMickschumacher: Thanks for that man...
âłYourusername: Aww Micky, you stare at me all the time?
âłMickschumacher: How can I not Schatz, you're the most gorgeous person in the whole worldâ¤â¤â¤
âłEstabanocon: How sweet đ¤˘
âłMickschumacher: Aww just let me be in love this once.
User5: Ugh he's so bf coded
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âłUser6: I SEE YOU LURKING Y/N
User7: did you guys see Mick say love? Ooh is this a new word added to the equation or....
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â-â-â-â-â
New story from Mickschumacher
(My darling, my soulmate. Finally all mine to love)
-°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°--°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘--â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°â˘Â°-
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Taglist:@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee
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would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? iâve always loved the concept when youâve referenced it in the story, i would love to read itđ youâre absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and iâm embarrassedđ
thank you for your request â¤ď¸ fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse
There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.)Â
He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section.Â
He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true.Â
No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom.Â
Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight.Â
You look tired, too.Â
Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess.Â
You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas.Â
Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky.Â
You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops.Â
You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh âhe can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one.Â
âHey,â he says.Â
You meet his eyes with a funny smile. âHey. Sorry, am I in the way?â you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak.Â
âNo, you're not, it's⌠I see you here all the time.âÂ
You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. âSo?â you ask wearily.
âAre you okay?âÂ
Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight.Â
âI see you all the time too. We've⌠we've actually spoken before, haven't we?â you ask after a moment.Â
âYeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running andââ It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. âAre you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.âÂ
âIt's getting better.âÂ
It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.
âCan I talk to you?â he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. âThere's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff andââÂ
âI'm really okayââÂ
âYou had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,â he says softly, imploringly, âI just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but IââÂ
You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. âOkay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.âÂ
Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. âI'll come and meet you.âÂ
âYou don't have to,â you say, gesturing at the basket.Â
âThe damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.â He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.
He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still.Â
Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag.Â
âThanks.âÂ
âYeah, no problem.âÂ
âIt was my boss.â You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. âIâm a dancer. Sorry. I know youâre going to ask.âÂ
âAnd he hit you?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
Spencer knows the number for every womenâs shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that youâd say no. He can tell youâre scared, even if you donât realise it yourself. âIs it getting worse?â
You canât offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. Itâs like he canât tell someone, even if they ask.Â
Sometimes he just wishes theyâd ask twice.Â
âYou can tell me. It wonât sound stupid,â he promises. Heâs in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. âItâs getting worse, right?âÂ
âYeah,â you say, the weight of tears on your tongue.Â
âYouâre a dancer. Is he just a bossâ Does he⌠abuse you financially?âÂ
You laugh wetly. âHeâs not my pimp.âÂ
He can feel his face heating up.ââNo, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo, I donât get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow thereâs always another percentage, and then discipline. And nowâŚâÂ
âNow heâs hitting you.â Very badly.Â
âIâm not stupid.âÂ
Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, âI didnât mean to imply that you were.âÂ
âNo, I know, but I need you to know Iâm not stupid. When we talked before, youâ youâre so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.âÂ
Heâs not sure where youâre going with this. Perhaps you donât want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isnât an end in sight for you, just right now.Â
âCan I buy you something to eat?âÂ
âI have money,â you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside.Â
âYou canât take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and theyâre wearing off.â He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. âYour hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.âÂ
âYouâre very perceptive,â you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. Youâre protecting one of the things you can control about how youâre seen when everything else is far from it.Â
âIâm a profiler. Do you,â âhe tries not to sound hoity toityâ âknow what that is?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âIâm an FBI agent.â Youâre laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. âI know it sounds like Iâm making it up.â Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isnât wielding it around to be an asshole. âIâm in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. Thatâs why I know youâre in pain.âÂ
You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. âIf you need all that to know Iâm in pain, youâre not as smart as you think,â you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly.Â
Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. Itâs awkward, he guesses, but heâs used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that.Â
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Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!
Baby fever you say? đ Step into my officeâŚ
Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!
Words: 3.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
âUgh,â Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Elizaâs nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans heâs holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.
Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics heâs inherited from their father.Â
âWhat is taking so long?â Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground.Â
Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryanâs questioning look.
âEvery outfit I pick out she doesnât like!â
Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what heâs doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesnât have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.
âEh?â Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.
Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once.Â
âWhat?â Luke shouts as he bolts upright. âThe Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!â
Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day.Â
âShe must love me more.â
âUh, no,â Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. âBetter clothes.â
Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.
âOh, thatâs too good! Please, we all know Iâm her favorite,â Luke says. Â
At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room.Â
âI seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,â Ryan says, following the little girlâs lead and heading towards the door.Â
âWell,â Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, âthen this time we donât allow him to be part of our bet.â
The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response.Â
âWhat bet?â Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.
âYeah, what bet?â Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his â#1 Dadâ coffee mug where he leans against the counter.Â
âSeeing who Elizaâs favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,â Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table.Â
âI believe that would be me,â you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. âI just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.âÂ
âNo one can compete with the Rol,â Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile.Â
âShe definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,â Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes.Â
âI bet I could interrupt it and sheâd be okay with it,â your husband says. âAnd will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?â
âSo, youâre saying youâre the favorite, Dad?â Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking.Â
âIsnât that old news?â Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Lukeâs box of Lucky Charms.Â
âEverything about you is old,â Ryan says.
The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Elizaâs sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddieâs eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living roomâEddieâs eyes still firmly burning your backâand go to give your daughter her drink.Â
âDidnât we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,â you say. âEliza picked Wayne over all of us.â
Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. âNo beating the old man. The actual old man.â Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return.Â
âNo,â Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. âWe have to know who her favorite in the house is.âÂ
âAny ideas?â Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother.Â
âHmm,â Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. âIâll brainstorm at school today.â
In the end, itâs you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much youâre able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. Itâs not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof.Â
After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.
âSo, like, we take turns? One person a day?â Luke asks.
You nod in confirmation.
âRight. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, sheâd get cranky and it wouldnât be fair for whoever goes last.â
âWhat, we like, pick straws?â Ryan asks. âThen someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?â
âIâm game,â Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side.Â
âSoâŚâ Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. âWe just put our heads in her lap like this?â The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes.Â
âExactly,â you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. âSee if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then weâll see who she has the best reaction to.â
âI like it,â Ryan says.
âMe too,â Luke agrees. âRyan, go get straws. Cut one short!â
With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes.Â
The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out.Â
Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, itâs time for the games to begin.Â
You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughterâs eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer.Â
Elizaâs leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan canât help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until thereâs a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what heâs doing, but happy to have his attention.Â
âDo you want me to stay?â Ryan asks.
Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brotherâs neck and settles back against the cushions.Â
âIâll take that as a yes,â Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, âand as a win.â
Wednesday, itâs Lukeâs turn. Once Elizaâs got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. Itâs clear from the moment Lukeâs head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyoneâs guess.Â
âOw,â Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if itâs a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. Thereâs a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brotherâs head. However, itâs short-lived.Â
Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Lukeâs curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryanâs hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Lukeâs curls are far tighter than his older brotherâs, Elizaâs fingers quickly get caught in them.Â
âOh, please no,â Luke murmurs, but itâs too late.
Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers canât run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Lukeâs hair while letting out her own whine.
âOuch! Why are you whining? Iâm the one whoâs about to be bald!â
Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter.Â
âBald?â Eddie says. âWayne? That you?â
Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dadâs remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddlerâs grip.Â
Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the ratâs nest thatâs become of Lukeâs hairâthanks to her. Sheâs thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, sheâd definitely be using those.
Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Elizaâs hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.
Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. Sheâs immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten.Â
Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.
âI donât wanna hear it,â he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge.Â
To Eddie and Ryanâs credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.Â
âUgh,â Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. âItâs not even 8 am yet.â
With both of the boysâ attempts out of the way, youâre up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that youâd end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and sheâs let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her.Â
âGood luck, babe,â Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room.Â
As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.Â
You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Itâs odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you.Â
âMama!â Eliza chirps.
A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Elizaâs arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye.Â
Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.
âHold on,â you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, âwait to see what happens when the show comes back.â
There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens.Â
Elizaâs skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show.Â
âOh, come on,â you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. Itâs not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers havenât been corrupted by life yet.Â
Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips.Â
âComfy, are we?â he asks.Â
Itâs evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesnât look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode.Â
âAll right,â Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. âSaved the best for last.â
âDebatable,â Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar.Â
Your husband flicks Ryanâs black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off.Â
âReady?â you ask, slipping your arms around Eddieâs waist.Â
âAlways up for snuggles with my girls.âÂ
A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.
âGross,â Luke groans.
âI know you are, but what am I?â Eddie taunts, proving heâs as mature as his adolescent sons.Â
You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddieâs cheeks.Â
âGo get her,â you say.
He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.
Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesnât even realize heâs there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddieâs jean-clad knee. Â
He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until heâs able to rest his head in his daughterâs lap.Â
At first, itâs as if Eliza doesnât even notice. Sheâs watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return.Â
One of Elizaâs tiny hands splays across Eddieâs forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble.Â
Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you.Â
Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddieâs nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. Heâs about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.
Thereâs no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him.Â
âYou might just be as weird as I am,â he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder.Â
That night at dinner, the results are discussed.
âSo, who wins?â Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.
âNot me,â Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair.Â
âOh, relax,â Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. âItâs not like this was scored or anything.â
Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.
âMy hair ruined it for me! Thatâs not fair!â
âYou know, she can talk now,â you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.
âGood point,â Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. âEliza, which of us is your favorite?â
The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like sheâs thoughtfully thinking over the question.
âMe,â she finally says.
âNo,â Luke says with a shake of his head. âWhich of us?â He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table.Â
Eliza nods her head once, with finality. âMe.â
Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.
âHer Majesty has spoken.â
âI donât think it counts,â Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.
âYeah, her vote doesnât count,â Ryan agrees.
You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.
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So I loved the way you wrote Buck with his scars! My heart was breaking! Could you maybe write one where he hates them and the reader comforts them and kisses his scars?
hi, sugar! 𼰠I am trying to write these requests chronologically but I couldn't wait to write this one, especially after seeing today's episode because domestic Buck is something I just NEED đ I added a whole plot around it, so you can also expect some of jealous Gale đ basically, his wife befriended some man when he was away and now he's jealous and insecure that he's not so handsome anymore lol like it's even possible
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven đ¤
Buck stepped on the stool to take off the last of the Welcome Home signs as his wife stood below with her hand gently put on his thigh, making sure he wouldnât fall. She didnât want to miss any opportunity to touch him ever since he had come back.
Buck smiled to himself. It still felt odd to be back home and to be around his wifeâs comforting presence, surrounded by her love and affection.
He furrowed his brows at the ceilingâs colour, though. It was oddly snow white and he remembered that it had been needing a renovation when they had moved in a few weeks before his departure to Europe.
âThe ceilingâs been painted,â he pointed out as he handed his wife the paper sign and she took it from him to put it away.
âYes. Ritchieâs done it,â she answered casually.
Buck froze for a second before stepping down from the stool and taking a better look at his wife. She didnât look as if she was hiding some secret, though.
âWho is Ritchie?â He tried to remain cool. He had no right to be jealous. He didnât want to be one of those husbands who didnât want their wives to have any male friends.
Still, he was jealous.
âOh, Ritchie, heâs just a⌠Just a friend, I meanâŚâ (Y/N) chuckled and he could see her eyes sparkling. Buckâs jaw clenched at that reaction. âHeâs a doctor, a local doctor, you know.â
âDo I know him?â Buck asked, trying to remember if he had known any Ritchies.
âNo, no, honey, he was sent here when you had been⌠away,â she sighed. âI met him at the partyâŚâ (Y/N) got nervous explaining and Buck furrowed his brows at her. âI didnât want to go, my friends forced me, I swear, Buck. It gave me no pleasure to dance and have fun knowing that you were⌠at some camp, IâŚâ She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears.
âShh,â Buck put his arms around her and brought her closer to place a kiss on the top of her head. âI hoped you would go out sometimes and have fun. I never wanted you to sit at home alone and cry all day and night. I hoped youâd know that, baby.â
âI know⌠Well, Ritchie was there. He wasnât sent to Europe because we need doctors here, too,â (Y/N) sniffed her tears back and looked up at her husband. âHe offered me help around the house. He painted the ceiling and took care of that spare room that might be a nursery one day⌠He fixed the drain and helped to mow the grass. You know, that sort of stuff,â (Y/N) explained. âI donât know what Iâd do without him, Buck. And he did that all for free!â
âFor free, you say?â Buck raised an eyebrow. She looked so sweet and innocent, he didnât want to accuse her of anything but he didnât trust other men as much as he trusted his girl.
âCompletely!â She assured him and nodded her head. âI wanted to pay him, I really did. But he told me that my husband was serving the country and it was his duty to help. Heâs a sweetheart, really, Buck,â she tried to convince her husband. âIn fact,â (Y/N) took a step back and smiled, âI think you should meet him. I think youâll adore him! And you should thank him, too.â
âThank him?â Buck asked, surprised. Perhaps she was right. He should. After all, that man had helped his wife enormously. But the ugly jealousy was too overwhelming.
âOf course!â (Y/N) gave him a scolding look. âDonât you think he deserves to be thanked? Let me call him! Iâll invite him for dinner. Heâs usually free on Sundays,â she ran to the telephone.
Buck only watched as she excitedly dialled the number she had memorised by heart. After a short while, someone on the other side of the line picked up and she smiled widely.
âHey-ho, Ritchie, darling!â She started and Buck chewed on the inside of his cheek. He leaned on the wall, trying to look cool about it but he was exploding inside. âI was thinking that perhaps youâd join us for dinner tonight? Iâd make that lasagna you like so much!â (Y/N) told her friend.
Buck tried not to look surprised that the mysterious Ritchie had his favourite dish already.
The truth was, Buck didnât have any favourite dish (Y/N) made. And he hadnât done much around this house before his departure either. They had gotten married two months before. He had been away for more than a year. That Ritchie guy had spent more time with his wife than he had. And it was killing him inside to realise that.
His wife had been everything that made his will to survive so strong. To see her again, to smell her, to touch her, to hear her laugh. She had saved him hundreds of times without even realising. And of course, as he had said to her, he hadnât wanted her to spend all her days crying after him. But it still stinged his heart that she had some gentleman friend around. Cooking for him, renovating the house together, God-only-knows what elseâŚ
âOh, no, you wonât be a bother!â (Y/N) shook her head to the receiver. âBuck wants to meet you and thank you for everything,â she turned around to smile at her husband. âWell, in two hours perhaps? Great!â
She put the receiver down and approached Buck to hug him and kiss his cheek.
âI canât believe youâre here with me again⌠It feels so surreal,â she admitted.
He only hugged her closer, trying not to say anything. All he could feel was jealousy and he didnât want to open his mouth and accidentally hurt her with his words.
Doctor Ritchie Nelson was older than Buck had expected â around 40. And much more handsome, too. Buck had naively hoped it would be some senior man living down the street or something like that. But no, he looked like a fucking actor. He had shiny black hair and bright blue eyes. He was a few inches taller and his clothes were very elegant.
Buck shook his hand to greet him when he opened the door.
âMajor,â Ritchie saluted and then he gave Buck the most wonderful smile. Buck swallowed thickly.
Fuck me, he thought.
âJust call me Buck, doc,â he only said.
âAnd you call me Ritchie, son,â Ritchie walked inside as if the house had been his.
Buck closed the door behind him. He didnât like being called son by that man even if he was older. But he didnât want to start an argument and make his wife sad. She seemed to be very excited about the two of them finally meeting.
â(Y/N)âs in the kitchen now. She will serve the food in a moment. Follow me,â Buck headed to the dining room, painfully realising how stupid his words must have sounded. Of course Ritchie knew where to go.
But Ritchie didnât say anything to that and took his place by the table.
âHello, (Y/N)!â He raised his voice in the kitchenâs direction.
âHello, sweetheart!â (Y/N) greeted him back and Buck took a seat across the table so he could face the man.
Before he could open his mouth to ask about something, his wife went inside with the plates. She put the food on the table and joined them, sitting right in between.Â
âSo, your wife told me that you went down over Bremen,â Ritchie started so naturally. He had to be born with this charm and charisma. âThat was hell of a mission, Iâve heard on the radio.â
âOh, Ritchie, letâs not talk about the war, can we?â (Y/N) batted her eyelashes at him. âPlease,â she laid her eyes on her husband and Buck nodded at her.
He also didnât want to talk about the war. Especially with a man who had not been there.
âOf course,â Ritchie cleared his throat.
âIâd rather listen to your stories,â Buck told him. âWhat did I miss âround town?â
He quickly regretted asking that question. (Y/N) and Ritchie were telling him all sorts of stories and gossip about local women, drunkards, policemen, priests, divorces and marriages, new children getting born... He wouldnât mind that itself but the way they interacted with each other made his heart sink deep in his chest.
(Y/N) was mostly looking at Ritchie and her eyes were sparkling whenever he said something funny. She would often touch his wrist when she was laughing and they had a ton of inside jokes that Buck didnât even want to ask about.
âOh, you tell that story. You tell it the best!â She would say often and then she would interrupt Ritchie all the time to add her own details. But Ritchie didnât seem to mind.
Buck couldnât handle it anymore. He stood up suddenly and they looked up at him, questioningly.
âAre you alright, darling?â (Y/N) asked him, worryingly.
âYes, I just⌠I want waterâŚâ Buck said and she nodded her head.
He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass before leaning on the counter and watching his wife still talking to Ritchie. They looked so natural together, so comfortable around each other.
In fact, she looked more relaxed around Ritchie than around Buck. The truth was that things had been awkward between them. When they were alone, they would sit in silence most of the time. And she didnât look as relaxed as she did now.
Buck clenched his jaw and joined them by the table again, even though he felt as if he was a third wheel.
âOh, Buck, baby, I forgot to tell you,â (Y/N) grabbed his arm and then she pointed at Ritchie. âRitchie used to be a model.â
Fucking wonderful, Buck thought. But he pretended to be surprised as he laid his eyes at the other man.
âOh, please,â Ritchie rolled his eyes and chuckled.
The worst part of Ritchie was that he was not mean. He wasnât teasing Buck or trying to show off. He really was a nice man... who just happened to have a good relationship with Buckâs wife.
âI mean it! Back in the 30s. He was on the cover of the magazine!â (Y/N) finished the story. âI mean, look at him,â she laid her eyes on Ritchie. â40 this year and face so smooth,â her voice sounded almost dreamy.
Buck moved uncomfortably in his seat. His face was far from smooth now with a few scars scattered on his cheeks. They were not deep but he could see them every time he looked in the mirror. A painful reminder of what he had been through. He would never have a face like Ritchie fucking Nelson. He had already been uncomfortable with the scars but now he hated them.
He took a better look at his wife. God, she was so pretty. So full of life. She deserved someone like her. Not a man broken by the war like him.
âI actually could sign a contract and go to Hollywood,â Ritchie confessed, a little shyly.
âBut he chose to refuse and become a doctor,â (Y/N) shook her head and looked at Buck. âCan you believe that? Iâd choose Hollywood,â she joked and Ritchie laughed.
Buck forced a chuckle. He couldnât focus on her words anymore anyway.
âItâs getting late,â Ritchie took a glance at his watch. âIâm opening my cabinet tomorrow in the early morning. I should be going now.â
âOf course,â (Y/N) nodded and stood up to walk him to the front door. Buck remained in the dining room and waited for her to be back.
It took her quite a long time to say goodbye to her friend. He almost stood up himself to check on them but that was when she finally joined him and sat back by that table.
An awkward silence occurred between them.
âIsnât he lovely?â (Y/N) started as she played with the food on her plate.
âYes,â Buck nodded. âDamn, I forgot to thank him.â
âItâs alright. He doesnât really expect that. You can do that next time, too,â she took his hand in hers and caressed it gently.
He hated to see her more stiff and awkward around him than she had been around Ritchie.
âIâll wash the dishes,â she sighed and stood up, taking the plates from the table.
Buck stood in front of the mirror in the morning and looked at his freshly shaven face. Last night he had a nightmare again and he didnât get a lot of sleep. His eyes missed the spark he had had before his departure to Europe. They were tired now and sadder, no matter how much he tried to be the same man as before. There were a few new wrinkles on his forehead, too. And those awful scars on his cheeks. His face was definitely not smooth.
âKnock, knock, baby,â (Y/N) opened the door gently. âWhat is taking you so long? I thought you were shaving,â she smiled softly at him. âI started to worry.â
âI got distracted, sorry,â he reached out for the towel to wipe the remaining shaving cream off of his face but (Y/N) approached him to do it herself.
âAw, look at you, my handsome husband,â she gave him a warm and loving smile.
He hated that little voice in his head telling him that she had said that out of pity.
âNot anymore,â Buck chuckled nervously and put an aftershave on.
âWhat are you talking about?â (Y/N) furrowed her brows as she stared at his reflection in the mirror.
He only shook his head, scared that he would start crying if he said something now.
âGale?â She asked softly as she delicately put her hand on his shoulder. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, look at my face now,â he turned around to face her as his voice trembled.
âI am looking, baby,â she bit on her lower lip and placed her hands on his cheeks to caress them gently with her thumbs. âDo you mean those scars, love?â She asked, nervously.
Buck only nodded as his eyes filled with tears.
âCan I be honest with you, my darling?â She asked and he nodded again. âWell, I didnât want to mention them when you came back home. I didnât know if I could, I didnât want to make you feel uncomfortable or sad⌠But I wanted to tell youâŚâ she hesitated for a moment and his heart skipped a beat.
He expected her to tell him now that they were indeed ugly or making him less attractive. Of course, she would later tell him she loves him despite them and all that jazz. What else would she say?
âI know that theyâre on your face because youâve been hurt and in pain, so I donât feel good saying this but⌠Well, I think they make you look even more handsome,â she admitted and Buckâs eyes widened a little. âAm I a bad wife for thinking that?â She asked, nervously. âIâm sorry if I am. But you look so brave, my darling. And so handsome. They make me feel so proud to be your wife when I see them,â she leaned in to place small kisses up and down one of his cheeks and then the other.
âI thought you liked Ritchieâs soft faceâŚâ Buck muttered out.
âWh-what?â (Y/N) took a step back to look deep into his eyes, her hands still caressing his cheeks. âOh, youâre jealous?â
âWell, how can I not be?â Buck held her wrists gently and moved them out of his face to place soft kisses upon her knuckles. One at the time. âHe spent more time with you than me. Youâre so comfortable around him. Iâm glad you had a friend when I was gone. But I canât help not to be jealous,â he confessed. âHeâs not as broken as me.â
âGale,â (Y/N) shook her head. âYouâre the only man for me. Iâve been waiting for you here, each day and night. And those silly scars youâre so bothered about? Goddamit, I was praying to all the gods in the world to bring you back to me, even without arms or legs, so what do they even matter? Theyâre nothing. I just wanted my husband back with me!â She began to tear up.
âI know,â Buck brought her closer to hug her. âIâm not accusing you of anything, I know.â
âOh, youâd be an idiot if you accused me,â she chuckled through the tears.
âWhy?â He asked and rubbed her back.
âBecause Ritchie⌠HeâŚâ She tried to find the right words. âWell, he doesnât like women, if you know what I mean.â
Oh.
What a burden had just left Buckâs heart. He chuckled out of relief.
âYeah, I should have⌠I should have known. There was something about him,â he admitted.
âHeâll be flattered that you thought of him as competition. It means you find him attractive,â (Y/N) giggled and Buck rolled his eyes before hugging her even tighter. âI love you, Major Cleven,â she squeezed him tighter too. âAll of you, all the scars and all the breaks you claim to have.â
Buck was left speechless for a moment. He just kept holding her and kissed her temple before finally speaking up.
âI love you, too, Mrs. Cleven.â
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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ok ok hear me out.. pre-outbreak tommy miller x sarahâs teacher!reader đ
joel is stuck picking up some materials for a new job and he knows heâs not gonna make it to the school in time to pick up sarah, so he sends tommy in his place.
youâre used to seeing sarahâs very handsome father each day when you walk your class out of school, exchanging pleasantries with the charming, if not a bit reserved, joel miller. always there amongst the throng of parents, waiting to greet his little girl and ask her how her day went, lifting her heavy backpack onto his own shoulder before waving you goodbye and heading on their way home.
so youâre surprised when you donât see him on this particular day, your heart falling at the disappointed look on little sarahâs face as she too searches for him.
only to be even more surprised a few moments later when the little girl gasps in excitement before taking off without warning, head of fluffy curls bouncing as she runs to meet another man whose definitely not her father, although thereâs something of a resemblance there â all tall and dark flowing curls, and bright, beaming smile framed by a nice mustache â as he walks up the schoolâs walkway, and practically knocks him over as she wraps herself around him in a hug.
sarah all but drags the man over to you, a toothy grin on her face as she introduces you to her âuncle tommyâ, who you find out is in fact joelâs younger brother, whoâs just as handsome â maybe even more so â and twice as charming.
tommy wasnât expecting sarahâs teacher to be so damn pretty â joel sure never mentioned it â and he doesnât hesitate to lay on the charm. asking your name, calling you âdollâ, telling you what a great teacher his niece always tells him you are, even sending a wink your way before him and sarah make their way across the street to his truck and â oh my god, was he flirting with you?
you spend the next few weeks thinking about him; try as you might not to, his pretty brown eyes and bright smile, those gorgeous freckles and his charming texan drawl, are caught in the back of your mind and just wonât seem to leave. but, things seem to have returned to the normal and you doubt youâll ever see tommy again since itâs sarahâs father, joel, whoâs been picking her up from school everyday in the weeks since.
little do you know, that tommy has spent just as much time thinking about you â sarahâs adorable, sweet, beautiful teacher â and after a few weeks of not being able to get you off his mind, he makes some silly excuse to join his brother in picking his niece up from school. something about surprising sarah, but he mostly just wants to catch a glimpse of you again.
something joel sees right through because sarah had told him through giggles all about you and uncle tommy, and the way you made googly eyes at each other when he picked you up from school a few weeks back, but joel doesnât mention it.
so youâre surprised to find not one, but two, miller brothers waiting outside the school to pick up sarah today, and even more surprised when the younger miller sidles up and asks for your number, and tells you heâd like to take you out on a date.
idk iâm just in my tommy feels rn, idk if iâll ever actually write something for this⌠can someone else pls write it for me haha đ
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Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader? She was panicking about something and didn't stop rambling the moment she saw him. He surprises her by kissing her, effectively silencing her and she melts against him. She knew even if the world would end, hw was the only one who could calm her down. Just something fluff and maybe a little suggestive đ Thanks!! :))
Oh baby
Hi anon, hope you enjoy. Probably went a little hard on the angst and a little lacking in the suggestiveness... it got away from me. xx
---------
The doubts kept creeping in today, nothing was able to distract you from your thoughts. Your book laid face down on the window seat, your journal stayed blank. Instead of being productive, here you were just staring out the window bringing yourself to a panic. Everyone said the reservations were normal, and logically you knew that they were unfounded. But the rumination going on seemed to have kicked logic out the window.
Becoming a mother suddenly seemed like an occasion you couldn't rise to. All the ways you could screw up your poor child, which your brain was unhelpfully bringing up in spades, seemed daunting. Suddenly being trusted to keep a little human alive without any proof of competence was ludicrous. So you had spent the day stuck in your thoughts staring out your bedroom window.
And now you need to get them out before you exploded. Ready to share you headed to your husbands studio down the hall, not bothering to knock. He was engrossed in a painting, streaks of colour covering what was once a white shirt.
"Hi Honey. How are---" Benedict began before you interrupted with word vomit.
"I don't think I can do this Ben. Maybe I am not fit to be a mother, I'm too selfish. I have never had to look after anyone but myself, no poor child deserves a mother like that."
"Babe, what --"
"I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. What if I hurt them? Or am inpatient with them?"
"Sweetie plea-"
"I'm so scared I will be a bad mum." You sighed, ready to spell out exactly all the ways you thought that might be the case. Instead you were updated by a soft peck on your lips and a gentle hand stroking you cheek. Benedicts soft lips pulled back and he rested his forehead against your own.
"Honey, you are the most loving, kind person I know. You were made for this role, I just know it. You will meet our baby and the love will overflow and I will be in awe with you. Our baby will be soo very lucky to have you as their mum,"
"But what if I don't know what to do?"
"Then we find out, we are surrounded by loving, strong mothers. We can reach out to my mum, or Daphne, or Kate. You are not alone." Another stroke to your cheek from Benedict and you could finally felt like you could breathe again.
You nodded gently against Benedict's forehead before grabbing his hand from your check, taking it in your own and moving it down to your swollen belly.
"I love you Ben. You will be an amazing father."
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ChordStriker!AU Q&A
I'm doing a bit of a Q&A about my ChordStriker!AU on insta after sharing this teaser WIP, so I figured I'd present some of the questions here! (Feel free to ask more btw!)
âââ
Rock!Poppy
Q: "Is Poppy's family (Peppy & Viva) still with her since the Bergens didn't attack them?"
A: Peppy is with her, but he is confused/in mental decline like canon King Thrash was. Viva is missing. Poppy was old enough to remember her.
Q: "Will Viva play somewhat of a role in this AU?"
A: Yes, she's had a much bigger impact on Poppy's life, even till this day even though she's been missing for many years now. Poppy has never stopped looking for her.
Q: "Is King Peppy still a liar in your AU?"
A: Nah, he's normal. Sometimes hating him with my entire being is hard, so he gets to be a good dad this time. He's just not all there mentally so Poppy is more like his caretaker now.
Q: "Poppy's relationships don't last long because she gets bored... So how long is Branch going to last?"
A: The Rat Pack (Snack Pack) is wondering the same thing, but Poppy's never used the bf/gf/partner labels before meeting him which is strange... đ
Q: "Does Poppy still party?"
A: She's a total party animal! Her parties are even more intense than a Pop Troll party since Rock Trolls are pretty extreme. LOL
---
Pop!Barb (Barbie)
Q: "What does Barb look like?"
A: For now, this is her design, it might change once I have time to draw her digitally.
Q: "Does this mean Barb has to go through the events of Trolls 1?"
A: Nope, Barb never befriends Bridget because they have never met. They have found a way to remain undetected in the forest. (Thanks to Branchâs constant nagging about safety)
Q: "How does Barb's gang look? Is there any significant differences in their dynamics?"
A: I haven't had time to finish them all, but here's some of them for now. There's more members of The Lunch Rush, but this is all I have for now!
Val Thundershock â Valentina Wondershock.
Only Queen Barbie calls her Val. She is very optimistic & loves to sing & dance! She's Barbieâs right-hand troll, BFFL & knows everything about her. They have a very... "close" relationship. ;] She's a popstar who's managed by Demo and loves to help make Pop Village a happier place.
Riff
He's a university student studying to be an engineer. He's very soft spoken, doesn't like to make a fuss and is probably the nicest guy around. He's quite close to Barbie and sees her as an older sister. He's actually on friendly terms with Branch. His favorite treat is lollipops. đ
Carol
But you can call her Carrie! Everyone does. She's a bit of a diva, loves to look good & dull things bore her. She will ignore anything that doesn't catch her eye, even trolls. Best to be looking your very best!
Sid Fret
Just call him Sid, no need to be so formal. He is every trolls dream guy and he knows it! He's a great roller derby racer and loves the attention trolls give him. Sure, he's a little self-absorbed, but he's a very loyal friend.
Demo
Not much has changed about Demo. He's perfect as he is <3 He's just a little more excitable & cutesy than before. He cares about Valentina a lot & they are very close friends.
Petra
She is the blueprint, she's the moment, she's everything. A model, actress, singer, you name it, she can do it. She's perfect... Who doesn't want to be her?
---
Branch
Q: "How different is Branch in this AU vs canon Branch?"
A: He is the same Branch essentially, just without the development he gains at the end of Trolls 1 & so-on. None of it occurred, so he is still grey, miserable & a recluse. He helped Barb to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe after nagging & warning her for ages, but after that, he returned to his bunker & is still not well-liked by the village.
Q: "Does she know Branch's whole past? If she does, what was her reaction?"
A: Not sure if you meant Barb or Poppy, so I'll answer for both. Barbâno. I don't think she'd ever find out, and she's also not the type to ask. Their personalities clash a bit too much, she stays out of his way like he asks her to.
For PoppyâI think it would come up naturally in conversation after a while when Branch feels more comfortable sharing. Poppy isn't the type to pry, but makes it clear that it's out of understanding, not a lack of caring. She can tell that he is closed off for a reason. She relates to that. I think she'd be beyond pissed once he told her, though.
Q: "Will Branch's brothers be in this?"
A: Yes, but Floyd will be getting the bigger role this time.
Q: "How quickly does Branch fall for Poppy? I'm sure the answer is yes, but is he happy?"
A: I'd say he's quite guarded in the beginning. He is cautious around her for the first few weeks, but he starts to come around once he picks up on Poppy being emotionally guarded herself.
Things move quickly once their walls come down around each other, & a mutual understanding is there. Poppy fell for him first. (At least, that's what Branch lets her believe, as it was love at first sight for him, but he'd never tell her that; she'd get a big head about it.)
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First kiss with Suo???đđ What will the teasing master do??
âśď¸ â˘áá||á|á||||| 0:10
PLAY!
my first suo request yayyy so I was brainstorming hard for this by brainstorming I mean playing music and daydreaming and hereâs the final product lol hope you enjoy letâs spread the suo love
: minor angst. fluff. established relationship. hints of suggestion. GN!reader
The day has grown dark, as the sun steps down to give way to the moon. The street lamp illuminates the two figures walking side by side who walk in silence. You glance at the eye patched man beside you, he has been awfully silent throughout your walk home, only staring ahead as if he's lost in thoughts. He usually has a lot to say but this time not even a smile graces his face. It bothers you that he's not his usual self, something must be wrong.
"Thank you for walking me home." You speak, breaking the awkward silence as you look towards him. However, Suo only stares straight ahead, humming in acknowledgement. You slightly raise your eyebrow in confusion, continuing to stare at him in case he might say something else but he doesn't. Now you know something is definitely wrong and the feeling gnaws at you.
"Hayato?"
"Hmm?"
"You're pretty quiet today, is something wrong?"
Suo shakes his head in response, but you notice the hold he has on your school bag he's carrying tightens momentarily. You frown at his lack of words and halt in your steps, worry reflected in your eyes as you look towards him. Suo notices that you stopped walking and has turned around to look at you, still silent. You look down in frustration, unable to take this silence anymore, you speak out.
"You don't have to tell me what's b-bothering you, but just know that I'm here for you...!" You exclaimed at him, you found your voice wavering as your emotions unexpectedly rise. Embarrassed that you let your emotions get to you. A moment of silence passes before you hear a familiar sound of footsteps come towards you. A sight of familiar shoes enter your down casted vision, a warmth placed upon your cheek. Causing you to look up and meet a recognizable maroon eye. Suo stands in front of you with a hand placed on your cheek, his usual calm face troubled. "(Y/N), I..." He lets out a sigh as his voice fades - he seems conflicted, the hand on your face lowers to reach for your hand. You squeeze his hand in return, patient as you await his next words expectantly.
"Do you.....like me?"
Your eyes widen as his words slowly sink into you. You can feel your cheeks warming as your mind swirls with questions. Of all the things he could have said, you did not expect this. "Wha- umm..." You struggle to form the words as his strong gaze lingers on you. You wonder if he can feel your hand starting to sweat. All of a sudden you can hear your heart pounding to fill in the silence. Suo continues to stare at you, his nervous filled eye-patiently waiting for you to speak.
"Of c-course, I l-like you...."
"Prove it."
You're taken aback by his sudden words. You probably resemble Sakura right now with how hard you are blushing. "W-What?!" you exclaim, eyes resembling saucers. "Prove it to me that you really like me." From a troubled face his face now turned to resemble Cheshire cat, a smirk on his face. What happened to his earlier nervousness? It dissipated way too quickly, raising your suspicions if he really was troubled. You frown as you let out the next words.
"H-How?"
"I'll give you a hint, actions speak louder than words."
Okay, now you feel like he's toying with you. You huff as you see his grin stretch a little wider, his eye full of mischief. "Why are you doing this now and here of all places?!" You hissed, taking a cautionary glance around you in case someone might be looking. Suo lightly chucked at your actions before responding. "Would you rather we do it at my place?"
Oh how you wanted to smack him.
Like a boiling kettle you finally reached your limit. "Urgh fine, let's just do this quickly!" An exaggerated sigh leaves your lips as you pull your hand from his. Suo seems to be enjoying himself as he offers you a closed eye smile. You're annoyed that he's taking pleasure from your embarrassment. With a count of three, you wrap your arms around him tightly-burying your face in his chest. You let a moment linger before quickly pulling away from him, your face ablaze. If you hugged him a while longer you swear you could of ironed his shirt with your face.
The sound of soft laughing causes you wake from your thoughts, only to see Suo trying to suppress his laughter with a hand to his mouth. You can only clench your fists in anticipation as you wait for him to get over it. Your actions must have been real funny to him. After a while the laughter dies down, Suo looks towards you fondly with a gentle smile on his face.
"You're so cute (Y/N)-chan, but what I actually wanted was this...."
Before you could react Suo cups your face, bringing your lips to meet his in a soft kiss. Your eyes widen in surprise, a little noise escapes your lips. You can feel Suo smiling through the kiss, as he angles his head to deepen it-his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks to calm you. His soothing touch eases you into fluttering your eyes closed, bringing your hands to fist his clothes-pulling him closer until there is no space left between the two of you.
Once you both slowly pull away does time seem to resume again. You bet you can put Sakura to shame with how red your face has gotten. Suo smiles fondly at you, eye full of pure adoration. A light pink dusting his cheeks as he leans in again only this time to whisper in your ear.
"I like you too."
extra:
suo: so wanna continue this at my place~?
(y/n): ?!
Now dear readers time for a question! Do you think suo faked being sad to get a kiss or was it actually real? lemme know whatcha think!
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Hello! I love your writing!! I saw that your requests are open so I would like to ask what type of outfit would attract and turn on ateez membersđ
Imagines...
These are just my thoughts, you might can agree and disagree at some point in your perspective but knowing them since predebut, this is my opinion on their likings and nature. But honestly, I was really imagining myself while writing this like how would I dress up if I ever get to meet them personally lol. i'm being too much delulu right now. I need some serious therapy.
Hongjoong
The man who is in love with passionate and hardworking girls rather you can say, a dedicated woman. He loves the way if you are always dressed up fashionably according to the occasion. If you are wearing a tight short dress or a long body-hugging slit gown for a night party or business meeting party then you should have to feel under watch. He would steal glances of you now and then and would keep you by his side and whisper some good and nasty compliments, to let others know how to keep their eyes off from you as you are taken by him. He would try to maintain a proper image in front of everyone with a wide toothy grin but behind the sly smirk is how he thinks of bending you in-front of the mirror and see you falling apart in that classy dress. Also, his soft side would get attracted if you wear any clothes and shoes designed by him, like the designer jackets which will make him proud that you are appreciating his hobbies and he would secretly click your pictures in it.
Seonghwa
Oh, a sweet personality who has always this adoration and awe in his eyes whenever he gets a glimpse of you. He loves a person who is a very soft aesthetic and dress up femininely. Wearing cute skirts or frocks like summer dress or casual wears. He would find you the most beautiful one in these outfits. He likes the way your dress flows with the light breeze and a bright smile adorning your face which brings a small smile on his face. He would hold your hand and feel himself the most luckiest one to have you and would try to help you in every other household chores so that you donât look exhausted and can spend sweet times with him. But, itâs not always about this sweet romance as he might sometimes lose control to see you cooking and back hugging you in the kitchen in those frocks and well, he would bring the heaven to the kitchen counter.
Yunho
A tall handsome who doesnât know how to keep his eyes off from you. He just finds you attractive in anything. He is like a hopeless lover and feels so happy just to see you holding his big hands with your cute little hands. Maybe, he likes you the most when you wear skirts as he would swiftly lift you up in his arms and place you on his lap, you placing your hands around his neck and both having beautiful smile on your faces. His one hand would caress your face and the other would going up and down your bare thighs. He loves the way you look so vulnerable in those cute skirt and top that itâs very difficult for him to leave you alone. Your every small shifting on his lap makes him hard and painful but no matter what he just wants to keep those cute skirts on you, rest everything off. Theres one more thing that attracts him more is you in his big clothes as you looked like a kitten dumped under the pile of clothes and he would coo and hug you all the day.
Yeosang
Well, he might be of two types. His one personality like you in some cute outfits which are totally like frocks and skirts and sweetly hold your hand and compliments here and there. He would often try to match his outfits with you and let you buy couple wears to let others know to whom you actually belong. His sweet demeanour is far to recognise thatâs hiding a demon of possessiveness. He is very shy whenever he tells you about his favourite skirt or dress that looks absolutely beautiful on you. He loves it more whenever there are some cute floral or pattern designs on the dress. But if the dress is looking too sexy on you then just expect his other personality, his fingers inside of you as he would love to see you making little noises in those cute outfits. He just loves you so much so he doesnât know how to really appreciate you in the dress so he sometimes tries to make a drawing of yours and you secretly keep it treasured in your closet.
San
He just canât keep his hands off to himself whenever you are around him. He loves to see you in classy outfits where he can proudly present you as his partner to everyone. He has this side where he wants to see you in all elegant and classy and people admiring you for your beauty and success but he also loves your silly side. So, You in any elegant outfits might make him go crazy for you as he would definitely bring you to his parents to arrange for a wedding the next day. Speaking of turning him on, maybe if you are a very confident woman in a classy dress approach him but acts all shy during the conversation with him closely, it might turn your planned day into something else. Maybe his hands and minds both will be somewhere else unlike other times. Welcome the demon inside the sweet man.
Mingi
Tight outfits will make him hold you tightly against his body. Anything that highlighting your curves and hugging your body perfectly would turn him on. His here and there light touches and patting your head with a smile as if letting the others around him know that even if they are looking at you but you are only for him to touch and desire. Licking his lips and staring at you while you sexily sits across him on a sofa when you both have gone for a dine out would make it so hard for him to not drag you home and see you fall apart. But apart from this, he has a soft side which is majorly available the whole day, he is just always whiny for your attention so if you are wearing his favourite outfits then it might make him too soft for you to handle. He might also like baggy clothes on you sometimes as he thinks those look cute on you.
Wooyoung
He is such a Loverboy that he will always let you know about his likings and love for you. As usual, you both first met in the dance studio so thatâs the very first thing he liked about you being having the same passion as his and you in the dance practice fits like a tank top or crop tops with sweat pants is the weakest point for him. He loves you in those funky outfits or tomboy-ish clothes but would definitely love anything which gives off an aura of dominance from you. Simply, those just turns him on even if you both are in public. Sometimes, you jokingly wear his clothes especially those hoodies as they are very much comfortable but to him, he wants you to always wear his clothes and maybe do all the nasty things that coming across his mind at the moment.
Jongho
He will never let you know that he loves you in your classy work outfits. Yes, this man is very reserve but a cute lover if you know him after spending 24/7 with him. Every morning whenever you are wearing those straight pants with a plain shirt or solid top , or maybe like a knee length skirt and blazer outfit. OH GOSH, have mercy on the man as he would be staring a bit too obvious that you have to raise your eyebrows and ask him continuously if you would change it or anything wrong with your look. He will wave it off as nothing or swiftly sing few lines for you to make you smile but inside his head the only thing is going on that why it is necessary for you to appear such perfectly for the meetings where all the eyes will be on you and he would not be there to glare them off. Lastly, he might just love you in outfits which are not too much revealing.
[ Please let me know if you like this sort of imagines, this is really my first time doing this sort of writings so idk how it turned out but I had fun. I want to make a NCT ver. on this so badly. Aldo, the other requests are in the queue to be posted soon. wait patiently babygorls, I'm back with all my out of world imaginations..... ]
Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]
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do you think wanderer would like a clingy and affectionate reader or is he clingy himself đ
cw. a lil kissing, gn! reader
scaramouche likes to think of himself as someone who is neither inordinately clingy nor requires much craved affection from his partnerâ yet, little does he realize himself that heâs, when all is said and done, fooling not a single soul in teyvat, not even himself for that matter.
it definitely takes a long time for him to rightly warm up to this entire 'relationship mindset', as he likes to refer to it all the time.
speaking of that particular set, itâs not just the physical part that needs graven patience in the beginning, it might even be easier to him to slow into the physical notions much earlier on than any of the emotional, affection parts.
openly talking to each other, undying trust, continuing care and the lasting, flowing love that would emerge from within, clearly, itâs heavily bound on fear for someone who has never encountered any love, tenderness nor intimacy in this world, from anybody ever. but the man has decided to change, contorting and bending, breaking to fit places he knew he had outgrown. not entirely thatâs for sure, but he doesnât brush away the certain possibility and opportunity to learn and experience new things in his long life.
when it comes to his own partner, scaramouche honestly doesn't have a preference, but likes someone who preciously shows him love and endearment a lot more evidently and he certainly doesnât mind having a significant other whoâs considered as clingyâ itâs flattering if anything, he can feel the way his chest rises up, warm and flowing with butterflies when you suddenly slide your arms around his body in the middle of the night to spoon him, or when you meet up and you kiss his lips like itâs the most normal thing in the entire world, as if thatâs how it should be for him all the time.
not allowing time to rest, slow deep kisses under the moonlight sky, he begins to romanticize those aspects, ignoring the negatives, ignoring the past, ignoring the certainties that call him from within, tell him to go back to where he came from. yet he could never, not when it feels so damn good to kiss you, over and over, until his lips would slowly turn numb.
scaramouche as a conclusion finds ever growing solace in your love, in being in love with you and giving out love to each otherâ yet, only to you, again, to keep it short, he doesnât think anybody else deserves his golden attention and time besides his sweet and cute significant other and the man can be a little, letâs sayâ jealous too, if you know, especially when someone dares to give you a little bit too much of their attention.
Š2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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