#favorite sc fics

[hippolotamus]

writing patterns

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

it's tempawrary (Stevie Budd | 3.1k | T)

Stevie is at least 87% certain this week can’t possibly get worse. For starters, she’s in the motel lobby surrounded by overstuffed bankers’ boxes. Boxes that now belong to her, courtesy of Aunt Maureen’s highly inconvenient death.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) (Lutalia | 1.8k | E)

Lucy drapes one arm around Natalia, burying her nose in her hair. Nat smells like the overpriced mousse from the salon. Like sweat and sex. She smells like Lucy. That knowledge sparks a primal, possessive urge, just enough to make itself known. The one Lucy isn’t ready to admit to having and Natalia won’t admit to loving.

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) (Buddie | 3.2k | T)

Eddie knows it’s him immediately. Feels the weight of his presence like a favorite coat that doesn’t quite fit anymore. Of course he does. Try as he might, Eddie will never not know when Buck is nearby.

with eyes wide open i tore you apart (Buddie | 377 | G)

“Which is why I have to make the most of every single moment.”  Even as Buck says the words, they taste like ash on his tongue. Because his heart’s not in them and he knows Eddie’s not buying it either.

if i’m being honest (it scares me to death) (Buddie | 2.9k | T)

Just got in. See you tomorrow.  Buck pockets his phone and enters the apartment — it’s not home, never really has been — his movements slow and easy, like he’s floating. Buoyed by the sort of love and contentment that can only come from spending an evening at the Diaz house.

the only thing that matters now (is everything) (Twylexis | 882 | G)

Alexis combs her fingers through her hair, letting manicured nails lightly scratch along her scalp while she stares at the ceiling. Golden wavy strands glide between her fingertips before dropping back to the pillow, a feeling she wants to take advantage of while she can. The self-soothing act had always calmed her as a little girl. Tonight she’s not exactly troubled, but ever since the tests came back, and the immediate future is wrapped in so much uncertainty, she’s found herself doing it more often.

a prelude to a kiss (Twylexis | 335 | G)

It’s no secret that Alexis has kissed lots of people. Like, so many. Men, women, non-binary, genderfluid… Alexis Rose has locked lips with them all. Even so, none of those could ever compare to the woman standing in front of her. To the moment they’re about to share.

I know all your secrets (David/Patrick | 4.6k | E)

In all the years of artfully sneaking around for missions, Agent Patrick Brewer never thought his expertise would lead him here. At least, not as many times as it has.

Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) (Buddie | 77.4k | M)

Love /lǝv/ (n) - strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. Warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion. Unselfish, loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another. Thousands of years ago, the Ancient Greeks identified eight types of love: Agape (unconditional), Eros (romantic), Philia (affectionate), Philautia (self-love), Storge (familiar), Pragma (enduring), Ludus (playful), and Mania (obsessive).

all in the Jee-tails (Buddie | 4.5k | T)

Okay. Just a little turn aaaand- yes. Alright, only one more to go. You got this, Buckley.  Buck watches with fascination as the sewing machine’s needle dips and resurfaces, piercing the shimmery blue fabric. A wave of satisfaction and pride washes over him when the final stitches meet seamlessly with the beginning ones.

umm... i don't even know how to categorize whatever's happening there. although i feel like i can confidently say that i love using parens in titles 🙃

tags below the cut. if you see this and wanna play, too, consider this your tag!

thanks for the tags @lemonzestywrites @honestlydarkprincess @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @tizniz @thekristen999 @jesuisici33 @hoodie-buck @apothecarose 💖

no pressure tagging @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @elvensorceress @barbiediaz @buddierights @chaosandwolves @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @indestructibleheart LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes @weewootruck @welcometololaland and anyone else who wants to 😘

[appropriatelystupid]

have you seen the new movie “Anyone but you”? i think it has incredible sc au capability

i haven’t seen it (yet waiting for streaming) but it definitely looks right up my street

in the meantime if anyone is looking for sc fake dating at a wedding:

if you haven’t read @i-am-robie’s wedding date au don't go slow 'cause you're gonna be someone

[lizzie-bennetdarcy]

“I needed to know if he had found a way to be happy.”

Patrick smiled at her. “He has. I promise.” 

For @blackandwhiteandrose, inspired by her fic Where He Is Now in which Patrick is visited by someone from David's past and he gets to show off how happy he and his beautiful husband are (This is the lockscreen photo Patrick shows her). Please go read it because it is phenomenal, and then go read the sequel while you're at it! Thank you for trusting me with this, BWR!!! 🖤🤍

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

[jake-webber]

PERSONAL TEDDY BEAR | KANSAS BOYS

anon: “maybe hcs or a fic of reader being sam, colby, and jake’s childhood friend where you’re like the designated teddy bear that everyone likes to cling on?” (UNEDITED)

PAIRING jake webber, sam golbach, colby brock x platonic!reader

BEFORE READING use of ‘brother’ but not towards reader but is used by reader, gender not specified, i acc dk if they’re called traphouse trio or not but lemme know

You couldn’t tell the time when you woke up or when Jake suddenly came into your room to bother you by tangling himself in your covers and limbs to, and you quote, ‘hangout’. You’ve been friends with this guy for God knows how long but his idea of hanging out with you was never something you understood completely.

Unable to go back to sleep, you decided it was a good idea to indulge your best friend. You let him wrap his long limbs around you; his leg were overlapping with yours under the covers while his arm was on your shoulders, ultimately locking you up in a soft headlock as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand.

You, on the other hand, had your head on his chest from all the times he’s been pulling you closer.

“You think I should dye my hair like this?” Jake suddenly asked, showing his phone opened on instagram. “I think I’d look good.”

You didn’t have to think twice on your answer as soon as yours eyes were looking at a picture of someone’s hair dyed at the brightest green you’ve ever seen. “And what? Become bald and live your whole life being called a highlighter and Mr. Clean?”

You heard, as well as felt, Jakes low chuckles resonating to your head. “Dude, you’re so mean. Can’t even support a brother.”

“I probably would if my brother didn’t wake me up to cuddle ‘till the afternoon.” You deadpanned, eyes going back to your phone.

“You planned on sleeping ‘till afternoon anyways.”

“Not in your arms.”

Jake faked a sniff. “So mean, so mean. This is probably why you’re Sam’s favorite.”

You could only roll yours eyes at this. “Whatever you say, brother.” You pulled yourself off of Jake, hearing his whines of protest as you walked inside your bathroom.

“Why did you leave me!” Jake screamed from your bed, hearing a small ‘thud!’ and groan soon after.

As you were about to leave the bathroom, you saw your door open by Colby. “What’s the commotion in here?” He asked with an accent.

“Nothin’” Jake said. You closed the door to your bathroom with a snort. “More like, he fell.” You responded, kicking on the fallen blanket over Jake’s head and hearing a silent ‘fuck you’ before making your way towards the newly arrived boy.

As soon as Colby was a inches away, it was like his arms were magnet and your poor neck was the refrigerator getting unwanted accessories on it. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a lung squeezing hug. “Did you just wake up?”

You couldn’t even lift your own arms to hug back from how tightly you’re being held. “Nope, been awake for a while thanks to that guy.” You nodded your head towards Jake who did an awful job of sneaking up behind you, making him pause.

Colby didn’t say anything at first and gave you one last squeeze before removing himself. “Well, thanks to him, I didn’t have to do the honors of getting hit by a pillow because…” He grabbed his phone from his pockets and showed you his conversation with Sam.

“We’ll be having lunch with the others before we take off tomorrow.”

“Right, we’re filming oversees tomorrow.” You recalled, absentmindedly staring at Sam’s text ordering Colby to wake you up before the scheduled lunch– it felt more like brunch to you but whatever.

“That’s right, so we’re either going to force you to get dressed or you do it yourself.” Colby ruffled your already horrid bed head with a mischievous grin. “Oh, I don’t mind doing the first one.” Jake quipped from his place behind you, listening on the conversation.

“Save it, brother. I can only have so much patience to let ya’ll sleep on my bed.” You walked past them as your head scandalous gasps when you did. “Or maybe I’ll only allow Sam, who knows, he’s been the nicest to me all morning.”

Colby raced to your side with furrowed eyebrows though a smirk on his face, “But he’s not even here!”

“Exactly.”

Sam wasn’t able to go home and freshen up before lunch so the four of you decided to meet at the restaurant instead.

“And what time did he exactly leave for his meeting?” You opened the door of the passenger seat and stepped out as you spoke. Colby, who volunteered to drive the three of you, locked his car before he answered. Jake, who sat on the back, walked towards you with his eyes still on his phone.

“I think, 6 o’ clock? He’s been preparing for it for like a week— if he acts weird, just don’t ask.” You and Jake nodded at his words. You were all used to Sam’s antics when he’s tired, especially you. You had to specifically wear clothing that doesn’t wrinkle easily because of him.

Sam rarely shows affection in front of other people who’s not in the same house as all of you but that all goes away when he’s brain is too foggy to think. You were his victim most of the time. Colby, being the one he’s usually with, experienced it too and as well Jake if he’s unlucky but it’s always you at the end of the day.

“Golbach at 12 o’ clock.” Jake whispered before departing from your side to Colby.

The three of you stooped on your tracks towards the restaurant and saw Sam walking out with his phone. He still looked alright from a distance, his poise was as normal as ever, but it only took you one look to see the way his eyes swayed at the sight of his friends. Sam walked, or was it trudging, towards you and you already had your arms up when he got closer.

Both his arms circled around your torso and placed his head on your shoulders. Colby’s hugs were tight— tight enough to cut the air from your lungs— but quick and Jake’s loved to put all his weight on you. Sam’s, on the other hand, he likes to lock you in his chest and hug you like a teddy bear, as if he was inches from sleeping (which he probably was, to be fair).

After a few seconds of silence, having to penguin-walk away from path of the restaurant so you both wouldn’t block the entrance, Sam sighed. “God, today’s been a long day.”

“The day’s only half finished, Sam.” You said with an amused smile, patting him on the back.

“Still long.” He retorted almost immediately. Sam began rocking you back and forth for some reason. You realized Jake and Colby were already inside the restaurant when you Jake’s text on your phone about saving you both seats.

As much you enjoyed being their personal teddy bear, you’re already getting hungry from the smell of the dishes from inside, making your stomach grumble over the silence. “Time’s up, the only thing I’ve had in my stomach is air today and I am hungry.” You said as you tried to release from him.

Sam was quick to remove himself off of you, except for one his arms on your shoulder still. “Dibs on sleeping next to you in our hotel room.” He said before he began walking, looking at you with his tired yet mischievous smirk.

You chuckled, “You were already first on the list, brother.”

[heliads]

Hello <3 I was wondering if maybe you could write a charles leclerc fic?? Reader could be in charge of social media and fans start to realise that charles flirts with whoever is behind the camera? Sorry if its too vague, but I love your writing and had to send something in

i cheered audibly when i saw this, please let me write more f1 fics

masterlist

When you were just getting started with your career, someone once asked you if you’d ever consider running a social media campaign for something cute, like a zoo or rescue company. You answered them with a firm no; everyone knows animals never work on camera the way you want them to, and you didn’t want that sort of stress in your life. 

You think the universe must be laughing at you, because funnily enough, what you’re doing right now is exactly like herding cats, but you don’t even get adorable animals for your troubles. No, the Formula One media circus is a nightmare, but it’s a well televised nightmare, and that means your job as head of social media for the Scuderia Ferrari F1 team entails a great deal more metaphorical manhandling of the drivers than you’d ever envisioned.

It’s not even metaphorical all the time, the manhandling. Sometimes it’s just you sending out a great deal of mass emails when someone says something they probably shouldn’t or the Ferrari TikTok page is going through a content drought, but sometimes it’s more. Sometimes it’s like today, when you’re forcing the two drivers to go through yet another competition so the YouTube channel can get another push of subscribers.

You’ve done a lot of careful research over the months that you’ve been here, all dedicated to finding out just what sells the best, so to speak. As of late, you’ve learned that the viewers at home really like competitions and challenge videos. Apparently seeing two men who are obviously great friends go head to head over something as pointless as music trivia or Ping Pong is the pinnacle of motorsport content.

It’s not like you’re complaining. More views means a better paycheck for you at the end of the year. The fans like what you’re producing, and Ferrari likes the fans. It all works out in the end, and who are you to deny the Tifosi their favorite entertainment?

Of course, if you were to actually tell the two red-suited drivers that you refer to them as content and entertainment in the private recesses of your own mind, they probably wouldn’t be too happy. That’s why you keep that to yourself. Besides, they’re your friends. Charles and Carlos may make a lot of problems in your life, but who doesn’t? You’re not exactly perfect either. 

You don’t have to be perfect, though, you just have to come up with good ideas and let the boys be funny on their own. Charles said he liked that best about you, actually, that you let them do their own thing most of the time. The previous social media managers had tried to get them to fit this specific picture of what a Ferrari driver should be, but you never did that. You just wanted them to be them. 

You’re perfectly willing to brush that off as a compliment to a coworker, though. In truth, you’re working constantly to paint these two in the best possible light. It gets stressful sometimes, constantly wracking your brain to make each video work, each post take off. You are affecting how millions of people see Charles and Carlos. Hell, you’re practically filtering their legacy all by yourself. 

It’s not a task you take lightly, to say the least. Maybe that’s why Ferrari is content to keep you around. This is a job that you’d like to extend as long as you can. Just like Charles has worked with overly pushy social media handlers, you’ve worked with total diva clients. Neither of the Ferrari drivers are like that in the slightest, which you appreciate more than anything. 

That isn’t to say that they only ever make your life easy. Right now, for instance, you’ve been begging them to focus for the better part of ten minutes. It’s like working with elementary schoolers. You put anything in front of them and they’re totally distracted before you’ve so much as told them what they’re supposed to be doing. 

Today’s video of choice is a long-anticipated cooking video. Charles versus Carlos, the drivers have been given a mystery basket of ingredients à la Chopped. They’ll have half an hour to come up with a dish of choice, and if the time crunch weren’t enough to stress them out, you’ll be judging their culinary creations when time is called. It’s the perfect setup for a hit video, so if all goes well, you’ll see this on the trending page soon enough. 

That is, if you manage to survive this encounter long enough to post the results. By the time you manage to wrangle the drivers’ attention back to you, Charles has attempted to learn the contents of the bag through interpretive dance and hand gestures with the cameramen and Carlos has accidentally turned his stove on thrice. The third time the fires clicked on, he almost set a napkin ablaze. Both drivers are red faced from trying not to break into mad laughter again. 

You clap your hands once. “Alright, are we finally ready to get started?”

Carlos nudges Charles in the side. “Look, she’s disappointed in you already and she hasn’t even tasted your cooking. This means I am going to win by a lot.”

Charles scoffs, but you swear his barely suppressed smile drops in a second when Carlos mentions your disappointment. “Y/N would never be disappointed in me,” he protests, “I am her favorite, obviously.”

He turns to you, raising his hands in your direction as if asking you to prove his point. You shake your head. “I don’t have favorites, Charles. That would not promote a fun workplace environment.”

“Of course,” Charles nods sagely. “If you had a favorite, though, it would be me.”

Carlos snickers, and in an effort to keep their focus with you before you lose them again, you clear your throat and read out the rules of the cooking contest. The drivers say their dutiful bits about how they’re each going to win this by a landslide, and then time begins and they’re off to the culinary races. 

The covers on the baskets go flying. Charles holds up each object in turn, announcing them in tones of increasing panic. “Butter. Flour. Eggs. Green olives? Three strawberries? A box of spaghetti? Pepperoni?”

“You forgot the chocolate and red onion,” Carlos points out helpfully. 

Charles tosses his teammate a withering glare, then turns the full force of his vexation back to you. “Y/N, you are trying to kill me.”

“Charles,” you say, “we talked about that.”

Charles’ brow furrows as he tries to remember what you mean. It hits him as last and he groans, slapping a hand to his forehead in mock desolation. You’ve noticed that Charles has been mentioning you by name a lot in videos, leading to general confusion among fans. As you’ve reminded him many times before, you’re not supposed to be the focus, he is, so he needs to stop bringing you up all the time. Viewers don’t care about who’s filming the content, after all, just who’s in front of the camera. It’s a tip handed down directly from your boss to you.

Charles still grins at you even as he continues unpacking his ingredients. “I can’t help it, you know that. You’re too good, I want to mention you all the time.”

You scoff. “Good at what? Keeping you in line?”

“Everything,” he says, and raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

You roll your eyes and tell him to focus, but even this instruction doesn’t last long. Barely five minutes later, Charles is bringing up the fact that he’s going to totally win this thing because cooking is, like, a love language, right? And he’s the best at love, he declares, winking conspicuously in your direction. Carlos launches an oven mitt at his head and mutters something that the microphones don’t pick up, something that conveniently has the same number of syllables as stop flirting. 

Charles is steadily making jokes the entire duration of the video, actually, and usually you wouldn’t mind this but they’re all spoken with the intention of getting you to laugh. Not the camera, as he’s been told to do before. You. 

You do your best to keep it off your mind. Both drivers have gotten better about opening up on camera since they started, and this is probably just Charles trying something new in an effort to improve his on-screen personality. After all, it can be hard to direct all your charisma towards a camera, why not aim all your smiles at the person filming instead?

The contest ends soon enough. You end up awarding Charles with the win, mainly due to the fact that Carlos’ hand accidentally slipped as he was attempting to strain his pasta and he ended up losing all of his spaghetti down the sink. His plate consisted of sauce and decorative strawberry slices, which, although tasty, did not contain several key ingredients and resulted in an automatic disqualification. 

Despite the rather shaky grounds on which his cooking victory stands, from the way Charles is acting, you’d think he’d won the WDC. He’s beaming at you, talking about how he’d called this from the very start and was proud that you liked his stuff the best. He even offers to wash the dishes, which is very un-driverlike. 

The video ends up a success by all accounts. Even days later, it’s still trending in Tifosi circles, and the view counts are way higher than expected. Curious as to why, you decide to do the unthinkable and check the comments section of the cooking video.

What you find is– unexpected, to say the least. Usually, comments on any post, whether it be Instagram, TikTok, or YouTube, will range from fans lamenting race outcomes to people mentioning their favorite driver to random spam accounts offering thousands of dollars to the lucky person to message them first.

On this video, though? Most all of the comments are about you. This makes no sense, because not only were you on camera for about one minute, you didn’t do anything other than give instructions and judge food. Antonio Giovinazzi did the same job on a video last year, and no one cared at all. Antonio’s actually well-known in the world of motorsports, so why is it that you, someone who largely operates behind the scenes, would be the cause of so much fuss?

Curious, you start scrolling in depth, but find yourself more confused with every reply you see.

He’s totally flirting with her, right?

Is anyone else seeing the fact that Charles is freaking out over trying to impress this girl?

His face when she declared him the winner… I can’t even with him!!

Charles trying to protect Y/N by refusing to let Carlos salvage his sink pasta– they’re dating, right???

You find yourself laughing over it. This can’t be real. Surely nobody in the world actually thinks that Charles Leclerc– F1 driver, Ferrari superhero, Il Predestinato and supporter of all Tifosi hopes and dreams, multi-millionaire– would ever have a crush on you. It’s absurd. It’s so absurd that you find yourself racing to the office of another one of your friends in social media to get her opinion on it.

Your friend looks up at you, startled, when you burst into her office. “Has someone died?”

“No,” you gasp out, “worse.”

Her eyebrows raise. “One of the drivers had a scandal? We can fix this. Get me B-roll of them volunteering or something. We can turn this around in no time.”

“No,” you say weakly, “the Internet thinks I’m dating Charles Leclerc.”

Your friend freezes in her seat, finger still hovering over the call icon on Fred Vasseur’s contact in her phone, then slowly sinks back again. “Well, yeah, I can see why.”

You gape at her. “What?”

Your friend spreads her hands. “He follows you around everywhere you go. He’s always asking about you, you know. I kind of thought you two had a thing as well, it’s not just the Tifosi.”

You break out into somewhat crazed laughter. “Charles? You think Charles likes me? No, that’s ridiculous.”

Your friend, however, looks less skeptical of this news. “Is it really? I mean, he spent the entirety of shooting just cracking stupid jokes so he could make you laugh. You should have seen the way he stared at you whenever you so much as smiled. Man was transfixed.”

You shoot her a disbelieving look. “No– transfixed? Are you kidding? He wasn’t transfixed. He wanted to win a contest because he’s a racing driver and they like to be the best at everything. I’ll tell you what it was, he was trying to win me over so I’d decide the competition in favor of his cooking.”

Your friend chuckles. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

You take a careful seat opposite her desk. “You’d better explain to me what you mean by that right now, or I swear, I’ll make you brainstorm TikTok ideas for the next month.”

Your friend shudders. “Anything but that, please. Those trends are so bad. Anyway, look, Charles has been obsessed with you since, like, the day you joined. I remember introducing you that day, actually, he was practically stammering over his words. Imagine that, someone who’s always so controlled with what he says whenever he talks to the press, and he can’t even say his name properly because a pretty girl is smiling at him.”

This whole situation feels insane. “Maybe you’re remembering it wrong or something. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t like me like that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Your friend asks slowly, and, well, it makes you think.

It makes you think about all of the videos you’ve shot with him, every discussion after a press conference. How taking candids for the Instagram of Charles always takes ten times longer than it should because he never looks at the camera, only at you. How you greeted him earlier this year at the first race of the season and he said what he missed most of all over winter break was you. How he wasn’t even kidding when he said it, just smiling, smiling like he’d never meant something more in his life.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, “Charles likes me.”

Your friend slaps her hand on the desk, startling you. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What do I do, then?” You ask.

Your friend looks like she’s about to scream. “You tell him how you feel, obviously!”

“I do?” You repeat haltingly.

“You do,” she says, “And he’s right across the hall now. Go talk.”

She all but pushes you out of her office, and then you’re alone in the corridor with Charles, who has just spotted you and is heading your way with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N!” He says, clearly pleased, “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think our paths would cross until the next race.”

“Yeah?” You eke out, “Me neither, actually. Strange how things happen like that.”

Strange like friends with overly aggressive relationship advice. You’re certain that if you turned around now, you’d see her peering through the window in her door like some kind of stalker.

Charles nods. “I’m glad to see you, though. Did you notice that the last video did really well? I think that means you have to come around more often. You know, it’s what the fans want.”

“Speaking of the fans,” you say, “I happened to read through the comments and a lot of them seemed to think that you were flirting with me.”

You swear you can see Charles’ confidence fall in a flash. “What?” He protests a little too quickly, “that’s crazy. That’s, uh, really crazy.”

You nod. “That’s what I thought, but, on the off chance that you were flirting, I wouldn’t mind it.”

A small spark of hope forms in his eyes. “You wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t,” you decide at last, “because I like you too. If you like me, that is, and it wasn’t too crazy of me to say that.”

He’s laughing now, and you– well, you really do like him, you do, and something about seeing the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle up when he smiles makes you think at last about how long you have liked him, all the ways you realized you loved him but never admitted it to yourself.

“Alright,” he says, “Maybe it wasn’t too crazy after all.”

A pause, then:  “This does mean that you’ll be coming around more often, right?”

You smile. “Yes, Charles, I think it does.”

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[starlight-write]

lee!Vox and ler!Alastor fic??? 🤔🤔

Stalker

Requests: Open

Summary: Vox's little obsession with stalking his nemesis lands him into a bit of trouble.

Pairings: Lee!Vox, Ler!Alastor (Mommy Issues)

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing

Words: 1666

——————————————————————————————

It was a common understanding for most of Hell’s residents that you’d have to either be brave or stupid to be caught on the streets of Hell in the middle of the night, especially alone. Unless of course you were powerful enough to be considered a threat yourself.

Fortunately, our favorite TV Overlord was a perfect mix of powerful, brave, and stupid.

Vox whistled to himself as he walked out the doors of the antique shop, having just planted a shit load of spyware in case that bastard tried to interrupt another one of his broadcasts.

Velvette had given him an earful that afternoon going on about how he was "obsessed" and "borderline psychotic" referring to his recent attempts at gathering intel (not stalking thank you very much) on his enemy.

"He's a threat to our image! The two of you should be thanking me!"

Their little argument sparked when Velvette noticed the pathetic little man had spent a concerning amount of time in front of his gigantic screen wall. Having sent multiple drones that week to spy on the hotel and its residents.

While he still hadn't found any useful information on his nemesis, just knowing where that bastard was at all times was enough to calm his nerves.

Still not stalking.

The Overlord strolled down the sidewalk with his face buried into his phone checking for updates from the drones.

He noticed one of them was offline, only returning a black screen. Vox swiped furiously on the device, heart racing as he tried to figure out what the FUCK was going on?!

Vox picked up his pace a little bit, his screen buried in the other screen, not at all aware of his surroundings.

The man was to consumed by his panic to realize he was being followed before it was too late.

Vox screamed when he felt someone snatch his arms before dragging the man into the dark alleyway he was just about to pass by.

The creep managed to drag him a good distance down the alley before he came out of his shock enough to fight back.

The man twisted, turned, kicked, punched but only managed to free himself once he let off a good amount of electricity. However, his attacker recovered quickly and a fight broke between the two.

Thankfully not a long one. Soon enough, four tendrils emerged from the wall and wrapped around each of the man's limbs before yanking his body and pinning it to the wall.

Vox grunted and emitted more of his electrical shocks before realizing these things were immune. The tendrils had him pinned several inches off the ground with both arm on each side of his screen. He pulled and tugged at the bonds before realizing how monumentally screwed he was.

An annoyed sigh prompted him to look up at his attacker. Only the small light from his screen allowing him to identify the other.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Alastor stalked towards the other, his menacing smile never faltered as he stared daggers into the trapped man.

The demon stopped mere centimeters away from Vox's face before delivering a quick punch to the wall right next to the other's screen causing the brick to crumble.

"Were you a fucking formula baby or some shit?!" Alastor hissed, stepping away slightly. "Did your mother deprive you of attention that bad that you have go around seeking it from everyone else?!" The demon snarled, seemingly pulling Vox's missing drone out of nowhere as he threw it in front of his feet.

"That's besides the point-" He said. "I MEAN-!"

Alastor snatched the other man's tie forcing their faces together again. "What exactly were you hoping to find, hm? Do tell because I'm dying to know what intel could possibly be valuable enough for you to get your soul torn to shreds over."

Vox smiled down at his captor, completely unfazed by the threat. "HA! You don't scare me, Alastor. Besides, there's nothing in that crappy hotel that was worth seeing anyways. All I saw was shitty improv skits and a bunch of half-assed attempts at redemption. The whole place is one big-fat-fucking-joke, which makes sense considering your clown ass is running the show."

Alastor felt his eye twitch but released his hold on the other's tie, causing his neck to snap up and bang his head on the brick wall.

"That mouth of yours is going to be the death of you, my friend."

Vox shook his head, trying to get his bearings once more. "Don't call me that. And let me go already, I'm not telling you anything."

"What else is there to tell?" Alastor asked, picking up the discarded drone. "You've already proven yourself to be quite desperate for my attention, I figured the best way to punish you for this little stunt is by giving you exactly what you want." Alastor stared the demon down as he crushed the drone with his bare hands.

Vox laughed. "Oh, I'm soooo scared! What are you gonna do? Bore me to death with your little- AAH!" Vox screamed when he felt the other's hands grab his waist.

"Not exactly." The demon laughed.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. NO-!

A million memories suddenly flooded Vox's mind. Memories of laughing his guts out under the other demon. Memories of their their little 'fights' that occurred when one or both of them were bored, which Vox always seemed to lose. Memories of Alastor completely losing his patience and tickling Vox mercilessly until he was in tears.

Alastor smiled, relishing in the sight of that cocky smirk being wiped off his rivals face. The demon snickered as he tightened his grip around the other's waist. "Oh Vox, did you really think I would forget? You've begged for my attention countless times like this before, remember? I know exactly how to shut that big mouth of yours~"

Vox started to squirm, the hands weren't even moving yet but just the thought of it sent tingles through the demon's skin.

"Wait- hehA!- Wahait! th-This is sihilly. C'mon, surely yohohou can thinkik of a better wahahay to- AAAHH!" Vox shouted as those hands began slowly pinching up and down his sides.

Alastor chuckled, softly raking his fingers along the other's sides. "I don't think so, old pal. You've had this coming for a long time now."

Vox shook his head as much as he could, given what little space he had. Failing to suppress his giggles as he tugged furiously at his restraints.

"fuhuhuhuck- no- no plehehehease! wahahahahahait- wahahait a minute!" Quiet, panicked giggles were forced from his throat. Remembering how unbearable the softer tickles proved to be, Vox squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth but still couldn't hope to block out the unbearable tingling sensation.

"Begging already?" Alastor teased. "That's no fun. You know we're just getting started right?~"

Vox cursed at the teasing. Unintentionally emitting electric sparks due to his flustered state. Alastor remembered how easy it was for the man to overheat and took the teasing down a notch. Instead switching tactics and opting to scribble viciously under his arms.

Vox blue-screened for a split second before letting out a high pitch squeal. Full on cackling at this point while he desperately tried to pull his arms down.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!- HOLD ON- HOLD OHOHOHON!!! WAHAHAHIT AHAHAHALASTAAAAA- PLEHEHEHEAHAHA-"

Alastor had that self-satisfied smile he always wore whenever he got what he wanted. Vox hated that smile.

"Oh come now Vox~ You're well on your way to be one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell! Surely this can't be all it takes to break you~"

Vox's screen began to glitch and the whirring of the fans became audible as the man began to overheat.

Oh, right. Teasing is a no-go if we want to continue.

Alastor sighed. Well, if talking was too much for Vox, maybe he'd prefer something else instead~

The hands suddenly removed themselves from underneath Vox's arms and moved to either side of his head. The Overlord was to busy cooling down and catching his breath to realize that the other was positioning his face at the crook of his neck.

The feeling of sharp teeth gently nibbling at his neck was enough to snap him back to reality and into another hysterical fit.

"nononONO!- WAHA-AAAIIEEE- WAHAHAAAAA- AHAHAHAHA!!"

Vox cackled and screamed at the intense feeling. Fighting with everything he had to free himself from his bonds, panic flooded his systems at the feeling of being hopelessly trapped and completely at the other's mercy.

To which, of course, Alastor had none.

The demon could feel the heat radiating from the TV demon's systems and knew the poor, pathetic man didn't have much fight left in him.

Deciding to go for the kill, Alastor repositioned his hands at the other's hips and began squeezing rapidly while also blowing a few raspberries at his neck for good measure.

Yeah, Vox literally didn't last half a second.

No screaming. No cackling. No fighting. The demon's screen just glitched brutally before going black and his body instantly went limp.

Alastor pulled back and looked at his victim for a moment.

"Well, shit." He sighed.

He'll admit, he'd been itching to do that again for some time now but it seems he got carried away and the fun got cut short.

Oh well. He was sure there would be a next time.

Alastor grabbed the other's phone and released his body, letting it drop gracelessly on the floor of the alleyway.

Charlie had taught him the basics of how to work one of these things and thankfully Vox was cocky enough to not enable a password on his device.

Assuming the contact name "Doll-Faced Bitch" was one of his colleagues, he sent a photo of Vox's limp body as well as the location before tossing the phone away and heading back to the hotel.

Someday, he'll learn not to mess with The Radio Demon.

But hopefully not anytime soon.

[gveret-fic]

💗 Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love! 💗

Hm I'm gonna go with Sucked In cuz it was probably the most fun to write and it turned out nice and tight, Made of Stars cuz it was pretty out there but I put a lot of heart in it and it ended up connecting with people, Andrey's Laundromat cuz it was such a silly premise but it worked out, LDR cuz there's not an unnecessary word in there and I like the atmosphere, and I'll throw in Forgotten Right Hand cuz it's my first 1st person pov and it said all I needed it to say.

I'm not gonna miss an opportunity to rec shit I like so let's also do 5 more by other people that I recently read and loved:

The Shape of Soup by the brilliant ekingston (supercorp), the first sc story I've read in years and a tour de force of the best kind of miscommunication, featuring a superpowered child menace, an inexplicably happy Lena, and erotic cello playing.

the gifted and the damned by the fantastic karalovesallthegirls (gretson), a funky little story about superpowers that make you monstrous and the isolation of only being able to connect with people in the worst possible moments of their lives.

Network Connectivity Issues by the poignant Acre_of_wheat (Kit/Jade), a college camgirl au with insight and feeling and autistic rep that knocked my socks right off. Also biomedical engineering rep as a fun bonus.

the book of occasional services by the immortal seabiscuit (avatrice), a flawlessly executed western/horror/heist/romance that starts with cheeky outlaw Ava kidnapping nun-with-something-to-hide Beatrice and spins out wildly from there.

Strings by the iconic aliceinwonderbra (Faith/Buffy) for heart-aching, hot and intimate friends with benefits yearning for more, featuring a Faith who's trying her best but doesn't quite think she's worth it.

[cindylcuwho]

the TTPD masterlist ★

hi ! this masterlist will include fics that are inspired by taylor swifts album ‘the tortured poets department’ this is a project i’ve recently been interested in and hope that the fics will be entertaining and enjoyed amongst sturniolo-swift fans !

most will be personal made fics by me, all about the sturniolo triplets - olivia rodrigo - tate mcrae - sabrina carpenter - or madison beer . though, if you have a fic about any of those people & its inspired by a TTPD song and would like it on the masterlist please do not shy away from messaging or inboxing me !

𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐃 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི fluff , 𝜗𝜚 smut , ౨ৎ suggestive , 𐙚 angst , 𑁤 mix

fortnight — ♡︎

the tortured poets department — ♡︎

my boy only breaks his favorite toys — cs ♡︎

down bad — ♡︎

so long, london — ♡︎

but daddy i love him — ♡︎

fresh out the slammer — ♡︎

florida!!! — ♡︎

guilty as sin? — ms ♡

who’s afraid of little old me? — ♡︎

i can fix him (no really i can) — ♡︎

loml — ♡︎

i can do it with a broken heart — ♡︎

the smallest man who ever lived — ♡︎

the alchemy — ♡︎

clara bow — ♡︎

𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐃 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི fluff , 𝜗𝜚 smut , ౨ৎ suggestive , 𐙚 angst , 𑁤 mix

the black dog — ♡︎

the albatross — ♡︎

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus — ♡︎

how did it end? — ♡︎

so high school — ♡︎

i hate it here — ♡︎

thanK you aIMee — Some sAy its BetteR to IgNore And plan sc ♡︎

i look in peoples windows — ♡︎

the prophecy — ♡︎

cassandra — ♡︎

peter — ♡︎

the bolter — ♡︎

robin — ♡︎

the manuscript — ♡︎

[thesunpersists]

(character ask) 15. What's your favorite ship for Haymitch?

thank you @thesweetnessofspring!! 🧚🏻

send me something for character ask game

Okay, I thought about it for too long. So, here is a stream of consciousness answer based on canon, and I would love to hear what everyone else thinks-- AU or otherwise!

I don’t really like Haymitch and Effie as a romantic couple. I do think that they care more for each other than they outwardly show, but their dynamic is much more compelling as begrudging coworkers. 

Maysilee or anyone we know from the Second Quarter Quell generation didn’t sit right either since we know he had a girlfriend at the time he was reaped. The whole thing is so tragic that I had to move on before I got too sad.

Hazelle (who is also QQ generation I guess) is such a strong and resilient character, and I can see her working well with Haymitch. The time she works as a housekeeper for Haymitch also coincides with the time that Haymitch must have been involved with some planning around the rebellion. I would love to read a fic where Hazelle picks up on something (a secret message, a phone call she accidentally picks up, anything 👀) and they bond over the secret they share.

Which would ultimately bring about the Gale question. Katniss always thinks of Haymitch as like her because he is from Seam but Gale seems to set Haymitch apart because he is a victor. It is intriguing to imagine how he must have felt like once his mom started working for Haymitch, and whether he would feel differently in the event of a romance. So, Hazelle takes the win for me, mainly because I liked where the story could take them and the implications for other characters! Plus a Seam-Seam couple as an adult would be different from the romances we got to see in canon!* *in canon so far because i am always holding on to the hope that SC will write another book & blow me away all over again

[lizzie-bennetdarcy]

Five things you never get tired of writing

Rules: List five things you never get tired of writing. It can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people!

Thanks to @mostlyinthemorning for the tag 🥰🥰

Meet-cutes. It's kind of become my thing. Is it love at first sight? We're they both harboring crushes from afar? What were their first impressions like? I love it all.

AUs. Not so far from meet-cutes, but I love all the ways David & Patrick can come together, not matter the circumstances. Playing with canon-divergence is fun, too! I wrote about what happened if Marcy figured out D&P were together well before Meet the Parents, and it was such a fun story to tell! And one I plan to revisit when my brain makes words again.

Fluff/humor. I have a really hard time writing angst. It's hard for my brain to live in that space for too long, and all our favorite idiots want to do is kiss anyway, so. I tend to write mostly fluff.

Marcy Brewer. I. Love. Marcy Brewer. I wish we had got more of the Brewers in the show, and I love exploring what things would be like/how things would be different if she and Clint were more present, good or bad!

Post-canon. My most recent fic, and a handful of my drabbles have been post-canon but still within the realm of canon-compliance, and I'm having a ton of fun with it! It's lovely to think about people who still enjoy each other well into their marriage ❤

Tagging @apothecarose @obsessedwithdavrick @smblmn @legalgal421 @hippolotamus 💕

[rmd-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius @hippolotamus @mammameesh @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags. I'm sure I've done this before but I can't find it to see how long ago!

How many works do you have on ao3?

84

What's your total ao3 word count?

591,653 but that's inflated by a number of collabs, I think the number is closer to 400-450k

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, 911 LS and SC (rarely these days)

Top five fics by kudos:

Excluding any collabs (there's a couple in particular that are right up there)

Everybody needs good neighbours | RWRB | E | 14.3k | neighbours au

to the victor, the spoils | RWRB | E | 19.4k | lawyer au

yours for the afternoon | RWRB | M | 4.6k | coffee shop au

what, like it's hard? | RWRB | E | 65.1k | lawyer au, the prequel

I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby | RWRB | E | 7k | college au

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I try to! I'm not always prompt but I do respond to almost every comment

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Happy endings only here. I do have one unpublished Tarlos ficlet that's kind of a Queen Charlotte inspired future fic that is the saddest thing I've ever written which is the result of @howtosingit saying "whatever you do, don't think about X" which of course meant that I did and I wrote it in a fever dream, cried then buried it in my gdocs.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them hahaha

Maybe the ending to what, like it's hard?

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten some strange comments but I don't know that I'd class it as hate, as such (thankfully)

Do you write smut?

nah yeah lol

Craziest crossover:

It's not a proper fic, but I wrote this in response to an ask about what would happen in Alex & Henry, David & Patrick and Carlos and TK all met.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I am aware!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes and I love it! I've done collabs where we each write a chapter, one where we each wrote a chapter and then fully co-wrote the final chapter, a full co-write with @welcometololaland (that ended up morphing into each of us alternating chapters), and I'm in the process of another co-write with Lola atm.

All time favorite ship?

you can't make me choose

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't like to say never, but probably the SC paint & sip au

What are your writing strengths?

based on the comments I get - smut with feelings, banter/dialogue, characterisation

What are your writing weaknesses?

World building, pretty metaphors, I'm far too fond of run on sentences to the point where if I was beta reading my own writing there are SO MANY sentences that need to be cut down so that the reader can breathe.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it fits the character, I love it! I generally ask a native speaker to help me with translations for accuracy

First fandom you wrote in?

Schitt's Creek

Favorite fic you've written?

I don't wanna choose

I've got no idea who's done this already but I'll tag @welcometololaland @everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @three-drink-amy

@never-blooms @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @reyesstrand

@indestructibleheart @orchidscript @maxbegone @carlos-in-glasses @beautifulhigh

and an open tag if anyone hasn't been tagged and wants to play 💖

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Call of Duty Werewolves🐺 - Part 2!

{Author's Note} Since y'all loved the first part so much, here's a second for you to enjoy! I've included more lore and some cute werewolf snippets for each of the characters I mentioned in the first post so hopefully I managed to write them all accurately. I'll probably do a fic for one of them at some point so let me know who you'd like to see! Thank you for all the love and please feel free to write/ask for more headcanons for this AU! I'm having so much fun with it❤️ Happy Halloween! 🎃🧟‍♂️👻 >Call of Duty Werewolf AU -> Part 1 >Shadow Company Snippet by @http-paprika -> SC Werewolf AU (she's also writing her own werewolf AU fic so go give it some love👀)

~ ~ ~

>Werewolves have fangs in both forms. The human canines are replaced by longer, sharper teeth when natural werewolves lose their baby teeth. In bitten werewolves, the human canines are pushed out within their first month of being turned. While in human form, only the sharper tips are visible, resulting in fanged smiles (just imagine your favorite boy flashing you a fanged grin👀). When transforming, the teeth extend from the gums as the muzzle forms.

>Werewolf hair and nails grow faster and are usually thicker, requiring more frequent trimming, especially after a transformation.

>Werewolves heal faster than their human counterparts. Cuts heal in a few minutes, broken bones take days rather than weeks. Most tissues can be fully regenerated, except for entire limbs. The canine teeth will always be replaced if lost.

>Bones and muscles are thicker and heavier than those of humans, resulting in increased strength and stamina.

>Werewolves digest meat more easily than humans and prefer carnivorous diets. It's healthier for them to consume more meat on a regular basis.

>Werewolf senses are far more acute than humans'. They have great night vision and colors are more vivid to them, as if the saturation has been increased. Their enhanced hearing, however, can be problematic and a werewolf will often have to learn how to tune out certain sounds so they're not completely overwhelmed. Scent is also important to them as it denotes health, emotional state, and belonging. Familiar smells offer comfort, whether they belong to people, places, or things.

>While transformed, werewolves can't really speak. The fangs and muzzle tend to prevent intelligible human speech. On the other hand, their unique vocal cords allow for animalistic grunts and growls, even in human form.

>Transformations will always be painful for both werewolf types. With practice, the process can become smoother and faster but it will always have a pinch, especially as the face changes. Heightened emotions can trigger the beginnings of the change, though it takes a conscious effort to completely transform, unless a werewolf is suffering from moon blindness. Bitten werewolves tend to be more reactive but transform more slowly as it takes longer for their bodies to get used to the shift in comparison to natural werewolves, who are specially built for it from birth.

>A werewolf's transformed state is so dependent on their human traits that they don't always look very wolfish. Some can look like coyotes, foxes, or even bears because of differing body types, features, and hair colors.

>Poisonous to humans, wolfsbane also has an adverse effect on werewolves. It clouds their senses and prevents them from transforming but it won't kill them. It's often used to control a werewolf and keep them in line. However, it can also be mixed into a poultice to treat wounds caused by silver.

>Silver causes mild allergic reactions in werewolves. It only becomes fatal when enough of it pierces the skin and enters the bloodstream, which is why hunters lace their weapons and bullets with silver. Despite this, many werewolves still revere the metal for its association with the Moon.

🌙 🐺 🌙

💲Price is the fluffiest. His iconic beard remains when he's transformed, making him easily recognizable, though he has been mistaken for a bear in the past. If you laugh at that fact, he'll simply huff in feigned annoyance and lay on top of you to prevent you from escaping. Being a natural werewolf, not only does he have more hair but Price's transformations are about as easy as they can be so he'll often use his time with you to relax and catch up on sleep. He sleeps the most soundly when you're cuddled into his chest or back, your face pressed to his fluffy mane. He loves hearing about how much you love his fluff and secretly takes pride in it.

💀Ghost is the biggest. As a 6'4 mountain of a man, he's even larger when transformed. It'll take some getting used to, especially when he transforms in your living space. If you try to make the area more comfortable for him, he'll be especially grateful for your effort. More than anything, he'll just want to be close and feel your touch. His body aches after he transforms and he's more easily overwhelmed so the gentleness of your hands helps him settle into this second shape. No matter how many times you've seen him transformed, he'll always feel some degree of shame around you so make sure he knows just how adored he is.

🧼Soap is the most playful. His transformations tend to energize him rather than exhaust him so expect him to be bouncing off the walls for a bit. If you match his energy level, he'll never let you go. He'll want to chase you and wrestle around but he's hyper-aware of his own strength so any change in your attitude will make him settle down. Once he's burned through that extra energy, he'll just want to listen to you ramble about anything that comes to mind, even if he can't really respond.

🧢Gaz is the sweetest. In the field, he’s known for his level-headedness and clever quips. When he gets home, he’s nothing but a big softie with you. His favorite place to be is in your lap, his wolfish head snuggled against your stomach as you card your fingers through his hair. To know that you accept and love this side of him warms his heart and he'll let you know just how happy it makes him with plenty of cuddles and kisses. He absolutely loves hearing you giggle and does just about anything he can to get that reaction from you.

🦿Alex is the most sensitive. All werewolves tend to be very in-tune with their surroundings, especially in the military, but Alex is even more so. His job as a secret agent of sorts has honed his ability to pick up on the tiniest changes in his environment and, when it comes to you, he's even more aware of your reactions. A slight change in your scent or heartbeat will immediately have him hurrying to your side to check in. More often than not, he can tell if he's actually needed but you're always grateful for his attentiveness and respond with a reassuring hand to his head or chest so he knows you're alright. When you're not, prepare for some inescapable werewolf cuddles.

🪦Graves is the most stubborn. As the Commander of Shadow Company, one of the most notorious groups of werewolves around, he's used to getting his way. When it comes to you, however, he tends to give in far more easily, especially so when he's transformed. A simple scratch around his ears or under his chin will make him melt in seconds and he'll never be able to resist when you run your fingers through the sandy blond hair covering his neck. The usually snarling and snapping werewolf commander will want nothing more than to hold you close, peppering your skin with gentle kisses and warm huffs of breath. Just don't let his Shadows know or he’ll withhold his cuddles.

🐺 🌙 🐺

*BONUS: Werewolf features! Thought it'd be fun to do short descriptions of how I imagine the boys! This includes height, eye color, and hair color for each of them. Pretty straightforward lol

💲Price - 6'2" -> 7'2" ; blue eyes ; brown hair w/ strands of gray

💀Ghost - 6'4" -> 7'4" ; brown -> yellow-amber eyes ; dirty blond/brown hair

🧼Soap - 5'10" -> 6'10" ; blue eyes ; dark brown hair

🧢Gaz - 5'11" -> 6'11" ; dark brown -> orange eyes ; black hair

🦿Alex - 6' -> 7' ; blue -> silvery-gray eyes ; light brown hair

🪦Graves - 6' -> 7' ; blue eyes ; sandy blond hair

[jaidens]

Young Maverick Mitchell x reader fic where it starts out super angsty and it ends really sweet between mav and the reader

then i think about summer, all the beautiful times watched you laughin' from the passenger side

pairing [s] : pete ‘ maverick ’ mitchell x feminine!reader

warning [s] : mentions of : goose, fighting, arguments. | it all gets better, swear.

a/n [s] : requests are open.

The night felt fresh on your mind, even months later. Pete storming into your small house, the sound of slamming doors and boots slapping the floor. You're in the small kitchen making dinner for you and your boyfriend. The radio playing the top hits of 1986, The Bangles filling the small house with a ‘Manic Monday’. Pete was still your Pete, but he was different. Ever since that fateful day of Nick Bradshaw’s death, he was different.

Sleeping in, coming home late. The smell of booze and cigarettes that ejected from him whenever he would get home before a shower. You had mentioned it, but the man would shrug it off as nothing. You decidedly chose not to press in hopes things would go back to the way they were. Pete’s eyes had bags of darkness underneath and his eyes were a blood-shot red that night.

“Pete,” You said. “I’m making your favorite. Alfredo with extra sauce.” Pete doesn't find your eyes at all, staring down at the ground as he opens the refrigerator and takes a bottle of beer from it. You take the pot over to the table and set it down on a towel. You scoop some onto his plate and there isn't a thankful word in any way from him.

“Pete, honey. We have to talk about this. This isn't healthy. The drinking is getting out of hand. I won't stand back and watch someone I love practically kill themselves.” As you press, Pete gets visibly more tight into himself. His shoulders are practically touching his ears as he clenches his fists into balls of rage. You're staring at him, waiting and anticipating a response from him. All you hear is silence, contradictory to how he usually was. “You need to stop. This isn't okay.”

“You don't control me. I'm a grown adult, and I can do whatever I please. Go and leave me the fuck alone!” Pete is enraged as he storms up and out of the house, and all you hear is the sound of his bike revving away and speeding down the road.

Pete left you sitting at the dinner table, eating your food you made it silence as his was losing its warmth into the air. You can't bear to stare at the picture on the wall of you and him. It was a simple photo that Goose had taken, but the memories and the emotional ties that held it to your soul entwined with laces of sadness.

You hadn't seen him for five months, seventeen days, and twenty-two hours. You're sitting in The Hard Deck with some of your close friends from college. You catch a glimpse of him. The short, dark-headed man in his flight suit grabbed two beers and walked away. “Isn’t that Pete? Oh hell no.” Your friend Katelyn says, grabbing her purse and wrapping the small jacket she brought into a ball.

The drink in your hand suddenly felt heavy as you set it down against the table. As soon as your eyes click together, you want to disappear and shrink away. He hurt you; but those soft green eyes drag you dangerously into the hole further in. The bubbly feeling in you starts to boil and you take back the drink you have and gain that liquid courage. Who said you would need it?

Here comes Pete Mitchell, walking over to you while holding that eye contact with you. He comes into your vision and he looks better, healthier and happier. His eyes are the color you fell in love with, and he looks much more normal that what he had originally looked like. “Pete.” Your voice wavers as you say that name.

The name burns your tongue. Your friends are still standing near you, one of them being encaptured with a random guy who complimented her. “Can we.. talk?” Pete asks you, gulping when Katelyn stares him down. With the extra feet she had on him, it wasn't hard for him to not be scared.

“Sure, we can talk. Do you wanna, go outside? Like old times.” You follow him out to the door, the sounds of the bar immediately quietening as the door shuts behind you two. Pete stops on his tracks, turns, and you're looking at him. The silence is uncomfortably long before either one of you speaks.

“Are you stationed here again?” You ask quietly as you sit down on one of the many benches. Pete nods and sits down next to you, twirling a pen around his fingers. “I’m stationed for the next couple of months. Made another admiral mad again.”

You and him hold a small and relaxed conversation. Somehow pushing through the uncomfortableness after months of estrangement. The quietness of the night looks over both of you. His knee touches yours, and you can't tell if it's purposely or not. However it enlightens those fireworks once again.

Your hand opens and sits against your leg, giving an opening to him. His hand almost unconsciously slides into yours and holds it softly. You turn your head and Pete is staring at you. The magnetic pull in-between you and him pulls you closer to him, head slightly turning.

His lips touch yours softly, baring sliding over them. His hand goes behind your neck and pulls you close in, as your lips play closely together. “Pete... I missed you.” You tell him as you stare into his eyes once more underneath the gorgeous moonlit night.

“Me too. I'm never leaving you again.” Pete tells you. Hugging you tightly into his arms. Whatever roads you took that led you back to him, you thank your lucky stars.

[confuchan]

Seventeen Recs (updated: dec. 2, 2022)

Warnings usually left by authors at beginning of each

My warnings just in case (I hope these make sense): ⤵

♨ - contains nsfw in story         🔞 - just nsfw

💖 - my faves   (Some fave writers tagged at bottom also)

Series (Multi-part fics) / OT13 Masterlists

My Heart By Your Side Forever - Masterlist💖 ~ soulmate au, OT13

And The Universe Said, - Masterlist ~ soulmate au, OT13

Under The Sun - Masterlist ~ darl+ing inspired au, OT13(?)

Spookteen Halloween Collab Masterlist

SVT Hub Camboys Collab Masterlists: Hyung Line, Maknae Line ~ (Some are also linked separately below) 💖

A Thousand Starlights - Masterlist

S. Coups

Boundaries of Fate: Ch.1♨, BOF: Ch.2 (feat. Dino) ~ historical au

Push It Down (sooner or later it all comes out)♨, Part 2🔞, Part 3♨, Part 4 (♨?), Part 5💖 ~ camboy au (Part of SVT Hub Collab)

Terrifyingly Innocent - Masterlist💖 ~ brother’s best friend au, college au

Hoshi

Love Hard - Masterlist ~ text au, college au

A Tiger’s Dominion [1]🔞, Part [2] ~ camboy au, college au, bestfriends/idiots au (Part of SVT Hub Collab)

Mingyu

My Daisy - Masterlist💖 ~ single dad!mingyu

Sweet Night - Masterlist ~ business au

Vernon

Two Minus One - Masterlist💖 ~ sm au (has spin-off: You May Not Kiss The Bride)

Dino

Retracing Steps🔞, RS: Alt ending+bonus♨ 💖

And They Were Roommates🔞, Part 2♨, Part 3♨ 💖 ~ camboy au (Part of SVT Hub Collab)

Fics (5k+ words)

Joshua

Plus One♨ ~ 10.3k

Mingyu

Love Me Out Loud ~ 14.6k

It’s All Fun And Games♨💖 ~ 8.6k

Dino

Pansy💖 ~ 7.4k, childhood friends au, brother’s best friend au

Scored!💖 ~ 12.4k, college au

Ten Dates: Unmatched♨💖 ~ 17.9k

Bitchless♨💖 ~ 7.2k, roommate au

Oneshots (1k-5k words)

S. Coups

Remind Me💖 ~ 2.7k

Fatherly Instincts♨ ~ 2.7k

Wonwoo

Your Games Suck🔞 ~ 2.7k+

Apple Cider🔞 ~ 2.2k

Woozi

-ˋˏliveˎˊ-💖 ~ 1.24k

Mingyu

The Perils of Apartment Living🔞 ~ 2.8k

Do I Want to Hit You or Do I Just Want You?🔞💖 ~ 3.9k, e2L au

Dino

Strawberry Shortcake💖 ~ 3.4k

Worth A Shot ~ 1k+

You May (Not) Kiss the Bride💖 ~ 1.1k (spin-off of Two Minus One sm au)

Ride🔞💖 ~ 1.2k

Alien Remnants in Society: Lee Jung Chan Findings💖 ~ 2.7k (Part of Spookteen Collab)

That Shirt🔞 ~ 1.9k

Down in the Valley🔞 ~ 1.2k

Act of Service🔞💖 ~ 1.1k

i love you the mostie🔞💖 ~ 2.5k

now that i’ve got a taste🔞 ~ 1.3k

Concealed Zippers🔞💖 ~ 3.4k

Blue (feat. DK)🔞 ~ 1k+

Drabbles (under 1k words)

S. Coups

(reaction to jealousy drabble) ~ 355

(stranger S. Coups hookup drabble)💖 ~ 495

Hoshi

My Things and Yours💖 ~ 850

Mingyu

Corn-y ~ 765

Still Tired?🔞 ~ 500

[16:37]💖 ~ 330

(app controlled vibrator Mingyu makeout)🔞💖 ~ 365

Dino

Paris in the Rain ~ 380

Dino Day💖 ~ 432

6:16💖 ~ 150

(camboy blurb)🔞 ~ 420

Texture🔞 ~ 800

Gym w/ Hoshi🔞 ~ ??? words

Reactions / Scenarios / Misc.

Overheated drabble🔞 ~ Dino

Top 3 members to lose your virginity to & why ~ Joshua, Hoshi, Dino

Love is in the little things ~ perf. unit💖

Sweaty Makeout Seshes ~ perf. unit💖

Making Out ~ hip hop unit

Kisses With Seventeen ~ perf. unit

Pickup Lines ~ maknae line

Incorrect Quote (DN & SK)

Incorrect Quote (MG & MH)

Incorrect Quote (VN & SC)💖

Reaction - S/O Performs Their Part in Their Song ~ perf. unit

Headcanon - Bubble Bath With S/O ~ perf. unit

Tinder Bios ~ hyung line

Mingyu as First Time Dad💖

Seventeen First Dates💖

What would drunk sex w/ SVT be like (♨?)

SVT - How members tease to rile their S/O up

SVT Reaction - His Innocent S/O Reading Smut of Him

SVT Reaction - S/O Having Thick Thighs

SVT Reaction - Dirty Minded S/O

SVT - MTL to get so emotionally overwhelmed during sex that they accidentally say "I love you"

SVT - MTL to leave hickies all over your thighs

SVT - Who has game & Who is bitchless💖

SVT - nicknames for S/O

SVT as Dads💖

SVT Dumb Shower Habits💖

SVT as Bottoms (🔞?)

I also wanted to tag some of my favorite writers that have written some of the things in this list or that I’ll add things from later. Definitely check them all out, as well as all the other writes behind these works.

@bitchlessdino @huiranghaes @dontflailmenow @twogyuu @milfgyuu @onlymingyus @sluttywonwoo​ @sluttyminghao @venerex @fallinwoozi @rubyreduji @thepixelelf @februaryflowers​ @wooahaes​ @multi-kpop-fanfics

[inkblot22]

The Infection I Don't Want

I don't have any words. Don't look at me. In all seriousness, I definitely love the savior trope. I tried to give it a cute little twist. Idia feels funny in this one too. Also sorry if the formatting is weird. I write these in Docs and then I transfer them to tumblr and for some reason in this fic's document I used Amatic SC and I have bad vision to begin with. No clue why I love torturing myself. Dividers by @/cafekitsune. This fic gets a little heavy. If you start feeling unwell, stop reading. I won't take it personal, promise.

This fic is aimed towards afab readers, but uses they/them pronouns. Mentions of periods and wombs. I may have been a bit less impersonal with this one, but the reader doesn't go on my weird love rant that I have in my self-insert Idia fic so there is that.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, DIY abortion which could also be read as miscarriage, I guess, abortion, Idia is incredibly mean in this and possibly OOC, Ortho being unintentionally creepy, parasites, sort of misogyny relating to periods, shock collars, electric shocks, captivity, implied forced marriage, implied forced medical procedures. PSA: don't try anything the reader does in this fic. It's an excellent way to get sepsis, and you don't want that, I promise.

Part 5 of the Pants on Fire series.

You don’t want to admit it, but a bit too much has changed about you. In the past few weeks, you’ve noticed plenty of things, but the largest and most blaring was that your period never came. Before when you would have it, Idia would sulk and pout, acting like you were bleeding on purpose, throwing a heating pad and a blanket and a pillow and the necessary products at you so you’d be comfortable in your distress. He kept talking about figuring out some technology to rid you of that pesky trait, and you really can’t think of anyone who likes having a period, so if he had, you wouldn’t have fought him on it, 

It’s too late for that now. For the last few days, you’ve been waking up early and vomiting. The smell of Idia’s favorite noodles makes it worse. Your poor tummy is constantly roiling, and you can hardly keep anything down. Ortho has been staring at you incessantly. You think he’s being annoying, really, and Idia’s been getting on your last nerves as well. 

Today, you woke up, vomited, and just sat in the bathroom for a moment, coming to terms with the fact that you could very well be pregnant. You feel conflicted. On one hand, you don’t want to talk or think about this. You’re stressed enough as it is. On the other hand, you absolutely don’t want this. You don’t want this creature in your stomach. You know it's there. You can’t feel it, but how often can you feel something before everything goes absolutely wrong? You can’t. 

But it’s unimportant. A knock comes at the door and you scramble to your feet, flushing the toilet and rinsing out your mouth before opening the door. It’s Idia. He gives you a look and starts stripping, turning on the shower and handing you a hair tie.

“You look sick.  What’s wrong with you?”

“O-oh, I… I don’t know. I feel fine.” You’re not sure how to tell him, so you lie. Maybe you won’t have to tell him. You pull his hair into a bun and he hops into the shower. 

You stand there for a moment and he peeks his head around the door at you, “What are you doing? You want to join me?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Just thinking.”

“Go see if Ortho can get you some aspirin or something so you can start acting normal again.” He mutters.

You leave. It’s fine. Idia’s dorm room is always cold. He keeps it like that on purpose. If you’re cold and he doesn’t provide much more than these stupid skimpy pajama sets that are cute but are also thin, so you’re more likely to cuddle up to him or wear his hoodies. At least he has good taste in that.

You don’t really feel like undertaking the task of looking through his closet, so you take a seat in Idia’s gaming chair, which is still warm from him sitting in it, and sigh, laying a hand over your belly. He said that Ortho was here, but he must be out getting breakfast, since you didn’t immediately hear his high voice  shrilling in your ears, “Good morning!”

You like Ortho just fine. He’s not your ally, but being around him is better than being around Idia. You wished he’d been gone for longer. You sigh and your head begins to hurt, “Hi, Ortho.”

He giggles a little and puts down the takeout bag, smiling as he turns back to face you. And then he just stares, chartruse eyes boring into you.

“Ortho, is there a problem?” You can’t hold your tongue about this any longer. You have a headache and honestly you just want to take a fat nap and let the world, small as it has become for you, deal with itself.

Before he can respond, Idia strolls out of the bathroom, lazily greeting Ortho, “Hey, Ortho.”

“Hello!” His voice is just so grating. You want to throw something.

“Mmm.” Idia glances at you, walking over and nudging your shoulder with the back of his hand, like he’s shooing an animal, “Go lay down.”

“I don’t-”

“Did you ask Ortho for-”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” You snarl, turning to look at him.

He stiffens ever so slightly, then hunches down and digs through the takeout bag Ortho brought in, “Are you acting like this because you’re on your period?”

“Did you really just ask me-”

This time, it’s Ortho, not Idia, who interrupts you, “Oh, they won’t be having a period for a while.”

Idia freezes. You freeze. Ortho goes back to what he was doing, humming as he makes the bed. Idia turns to narrow his eyes at you, his eyes sliding down to look at your midsection and feet, and his eyes roll back into his head and he’s hitting the ground. Maybe if you cared more about him, you’d check to make sure that he was fine, but as it is now, you don’t really have the energy or wherewithal to do so. You rush into the bathroom and cower near the toilet, like there’s a tornado or something outside. You’re distressed.

He doesn’t know it, but Ortho just vocalized the actualization of all your fears, the culmination of your meager existent, all rolled up into this… this parasite in your stomach. You swallow your incoming hysteria and make a decision. You’re going to get up. You’re going to get a change of clothes. You’re going to take a shower. And you’ll be fine. You’ll figure this out. You always have before. You’ll do it again.

When you exit the bathroom, Ortho is blowing air into Idia’s pallid face, and Idia is groaning. You ignore the pair and go to the closet. You grab a change of clothes, the rabbit-themed set of pajamas, you walk into the bathroom, you turn on the water. About as soon as the stream hits your back, you’re screaming. Sobs break from your chest like a hammer going into ice, smashing its way out despite every effort you make to keep it together. You’ve barely got the peace of mind to quickly wash yourself, and when you exit- the water is cold, too cold for comfort- you dry. You feel twitchy, after crying so hard. You tug on the spaghetti strap shirt, the bunny face stretching against your skin, and then you’re staring at the hanger.

You remember reading something, a long, long time ago. You were far too young to be reading this type of thing, the gorier parts of feminism and women’s rights, but… you remember a passage. The wire twists apart easily as you remember the story. A woman, desperate to be rid of the parasitic growth in her womb, just as desperate as you are now, used a wire coat hanger to remove it. It’s been so long that you can’t remember how it ended for her, but you remember the rest very clearly. The bent end, no longer crooked after you bent it, slips into your opening so easily. You can barely feel it. then the door opens, you freeze,  and you hear Ortho scream.

“Idia!” He yells, and there are footsteps and a moment of silence.

You look up at Idia’s honey-colored eyes that are glued to the wire hanger sticking out of your body, see the way both of the Shroud boys are looking at your current unfinished action, see the slow spread of crimson into Idia’s long hair, starting at the tips and spreading like, well, like fire, to the roots. There’s that familiar three-tap warning, and then you drop the hanger, clutching at the collar as the strongest shock you’ve ever felt hits you like a truck. It’s worse than the time you didn’t want to hang out with him, worse than the times you’d stray too close to the door. It forces you to your knees, sets your body into convulsions that shake the twisted hanger out of you, makes you foam at the mouth.

Somewhere under your anguish, you think you hear Ortho robotically say, “BPM reaching critical levels.”

The current stops and your body stops convulsing, relaxing so hard that your world, small as it has become, goes black. When you awake, you’re reliving a distant memory: you’re bound, hands and ankles, on the bed. You’re dressed again, one of Idia’s hoodies draped over you like a blanket, and Idia is just staring at you, holding your collar. He looks pissed, but his hair isn’t red, at least. He’s noticed you’re awake, but he’s not saying anything. He turns slightly in his gaming chair and throws the strap of leather on his desk, the wiring fried. There are holes burnt into the leather, and Idia stares at it blankly before he starts typing away on his tablet, his own voice coming through the device.

It sounds about as burnt out as the shock collar looks, “I bet you feel pretty bad, huh?”

You don’t dignify that with a response. It doesn’t matter to him, since his fingers fly as he keeps typing away.

“You’re a fucking moron. Only someone stupid would try to-” He doesn’t finish the sentence and hits the desk, standing up and pacing. You can’t see him, but you can hear him panting. 

You try to de-escalate, sort of. The shock collar isn’t around your neck anymore, but you really don’t need him to work himself up again, “The word is ‘desperate.’ I don’t want… I don’t want this. This thing growing inside of me, I don’t-”

“You’re not the only one with a parasite.” His voice is quiet but seething. It breathily cuts through the air like a knife, aiming for your soft parts, “You just have the privilege of being able to get rid of yours comfortably.”

“Really? So you putting this thing in me isn’t as bad as I think it is?”

He paces back into view and you notice something missing. Someone missing. You lift your head a bit to look around and Idia takes a heavy seat at his desk again. This state is rare. It takes him a while to relax when he gets like this, but you’ve only seen it aimed at others, like that time his account got temporarily banned because one of his party members was hacking. At least that had an easy solution for him- you’ve never seen him grin as much as when he had the poor guy swatted and watched through the CCTV cameras around the poor fool's house.

“We’re going home. I’ll fix your little problem twofold, since I’m the only competent one between the two of us.” He types out, his recorded voice not lagging once.

“What? And what do you mean you have a parasite?”

He doesn’t look at you, but you think you see him wipe his cheek with his sleeve, typing with only one hand, “Ortho is gonna come back with some burn cream. I lost my temper and you got hurt. Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t deserve any of this. I asked you if you had a condom.”

He doesn’t respond to that statement, instead typing, “I don’t love you. You know that, right? Love is for the idealistic masses, those who aren’t capable of keeping their feet on the ground. You’re just someone who has taken up a space in my mind. So the solution to yours won’t be permanent. Seven knows my parents will be getting on my case about providing them an heir eventually.”

“So I’m just here for eventual marriage security?”

Idia doesn’t respond. Ortho strolls in, placing a tube on Idia’s desk and goes out of your line of sight, seemingly to tidy or something. You don’t really care. He’s not your ally. He’s never been.

Idia sighs, then goes back to working on something on his desk. You don’t know how much time passes, but he loops it around your throat and unties you. It’s sitting a bit lower on your neck, just against your collarbones. There’s a three-tap warning, but no shock afterward. Just the flat look on Idia’s face.

“I should start calling you ‘baby’, kitten. It’d be so much easier for you to understand your position.”

“That’s not funny.” You say, “I never asked you to bring me here.”

Idia shrugs, “Well, I don’t think of you as a pet. With the way you act, you might as well be a pest.” He grins, sharp teeth on display, “Maybe I should put out some glue traps… or start dosing you with raw garlic and ivermectin.” 

He starts laughing, and you feel your eyes well with tears. You tell yourself it's the pregnancy hormones. Idia laughs harder at your expression.

“Aw, kitten, I’m just teasing. Come sit with me.”

“But I-” That three-tap warning from your new collar cuts you off. You stand up and start walking the two steps between the bed and Idia’s desk. When you reach your hands towards the collar, it zaps you. It’s quick and not too painful, but it gets you moving towards Idia. When you take a seat on his lap, he leans to bury his nose in your hair, a thrilled noise escaping him. He drops the burn cream in your lap.

He just watches you as you unscrew the lid and reach for your neck. There’s a three-tap warning again- bzz bzz bzz- but you ignore it. The second your fingers barely graze your throat with the cream, you get zapped, short and swift, but uncomfortable enough. You drop your hand and it goes away. When you look up at Idia, he takes the cream from your other hand and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, using his free hand to click into one of his many tabs for some anime streaming site.

“Good. It works.” Is all he says.

As he dabs the cream onto the electrical burns on your neck, you have to blink away the despair again. It’s settled over you like a blanket, eaten holey by moths and worms. Every move you make is accompanied by tentative fear, a worry that Idia will do something awful if you do certain things. You never once considered it would go this far, though. Ortho drops something onto Idia’s bed, a hefty-looking luggage set, and Idia pays him no mind as he tucks away some clothes. You don’t want to admit it, but you don’t want to be around any more people under Idia’s thumb, whether they know it or not.