#i forgot he existed so he decided that was a complete fuck-you to him and. well. h

[outlying-hyppocrate]

.

[queenimmadolla]

I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.

Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that

Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘

to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.

warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)

Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.

  He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.

  For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.

  Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.

  It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.

  It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.

  Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe. 

  He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.

  His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.

Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.

  “Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”

  “Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.

  It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.

  “She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”

  “Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.” 

  After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him. 

  You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib. 

  It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.

  He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.

  Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.

  “Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.

  Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.

  After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.

  “I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”

  Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.

  “This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s good.”

  “Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”

  “Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.” 

  Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.

  You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”

  Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her. 

  “Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”

  The light returned to your eyes.

  “Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.” 

  “He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”

��Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip. “Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad. 

When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!” Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!” Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.

   His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense. The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked  up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.

  Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time? No. That’s something you would have told him.

Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.

“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”

  “What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.

“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.

There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.

“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny. 

  He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.

  “Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.” Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.

“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.” Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement. One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong. “Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”

  That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up. 

  Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone. Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.

“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.

  “You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”

Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.

  He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.” Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.” Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population. He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing. “You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him. Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”

Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.

“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide. He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself. The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.

  Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?” Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched. Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug. And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.

“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”

Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.

  Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”

  He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”

What a jerk.

“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat. “Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!” She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?” “Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.” “Not again, Stanley.” “I know!” Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you. “MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms. “Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze. “Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper. “I gotta show Waynie, first!” She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now. Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him. “I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed. “It’s not that bad!”

“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”

It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. “Thank you.” You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone. It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day. 

“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.” You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”

[axelsagewrites]

really loved your “decide” fic with jamie and roy! was wondering if you could do something where fem!reader is dating both jamie and roy. they’re always competing whose the better boyfriend. (maybe smut if not i completely understand!) 💕💕

Roy Kent & Jamie Tartt*Best Boyfriend

Pairing: roy x reader x jamie

Word count: 1575

Warnings: mentions of smut but nothing explicit, poly relationship, competition/rivalry

Masterlist here

dating a footballer was not exactly a calm life. Especially not when you were dating two. Two who used to hate each other to be specific. You’d met Jamie on a dating site and had told him from the start you weren’t looking for anything monogamous. It started out as a casual fling, hookups mostly and a few dates.

Despite knowing he was a footballer you didn’t follow the sport too closely so had no clue about his past with your other fuck buddy. You worked in Roy’s local supermarket, and he began making up excuses and deliberately forgetting things just to come back and see you.

They both knew each other existed they just didn’t know who they were up against. You were currently on a date with Jamie. When he came to pick you up, he was in a suit and tie with a massive bouquet of roses in his hands. “Let me put these in water first,” you giggled as you took the flowers.

Maybe this was less casual than you thought as you quickly went to retrieve a vase while Jamie glanced around your living room. “This other guy, he some sort of biker?” he joked, nodding to the leather jacket hung up.

You rolled your eyes as you finished setting the flowers up, “No, he just forgot it when he was leaving,”

“Who forgets their jacket?”

“Jealous?” you teased, leading him to the door, “Nah he slept in, and he was going to be late for work,”

“What does he do?”

You paused in your tracks, smirk on your lips, “Why? You wanna go on a date with him instead?” with an eyeroll and a teasing wink you were both finally on your way.

-

The next morning when you woke up you carefully slid yourself out from under Jamie’s arm to go answer the front door. “Roy,” you smiled, trying to cover your panic.

“Hey. I was just swinging by for my jacket,” he said, walking in like he’d done a million times.

You prayed Jamie wouldn’t wake up as he did. “Its just over here,” you said, passing it to him.

“Thanks. Hey while I’m here we could go get some coffee or breakfast,”

“I’m not dressed,”

“I can wait,”

“I don’t want to impose,”

“I don’t mind,”

“I- “you sighed, running out a lies.

A look of realisation dawned on his face before a small smirk grew, “You have company,”

“Maybe,” you smiled, awkwardly biting your lip as he chuckled. Unlike Jamie, Roy was not shy of a little competition. He almost seemed to delight in the fact especially bringing it up during his dirty talk. While you found Jamie’s jealousy ridiculously hot, Roy’s cockiness was equally as refreshing.

“alright but don’t forget you’re seeing me tomorrow,” he said, giving you what was supposed to be a quick kiss.

You finally pulled away, slightly breathless and laughing, “Okay you need to go now,”

“Who is it babe?” Jamie’s voice rang out, Roy’s expression instantly hardening, “You,” Jamie deadpanned as he stood across from Roy in your fluffy robe.

“You,” Roy almost growled.

“You know each other?” you asked but the tension in the air answered it, “Oh fuck,”

-

“You’re sleeping with that prick?”

“Why would you fuck a grampa?”

“At least I can get her off,”

“And I can’t? Watch me, cmere babe- “

“Woah!” you said, putting your hands in the air as you stood from your couch where’d you’d sat during their near ten-minute scawble, “Now now boys, you’re both pretty,” you teased but neither were amused, “How was I supposed to know?”

“Well, you can’t date both of us,” Roy protested.

Jamie made a face, “Eh you’re not the boss of her,”

“No but I also don’t want your diseases,”

“I am not diseased!”

“Prove it,”

“Boys!” you almost shouted making them both pause, “If you don’t calm down neither one of you is dating anyone. We’re all adults here,” you said, finally thinking they’d calmed down as they moved to sit on the sofa.   

“Well, I am,” Jamie muttered under his breath, getting a sharp glare from you and a growl from Roy.

You sighed as you began pacing the room, “Look I like you both but if this is gonna be a problem then maybe its better if we all just take a break,”

The two stared at their feet like scolded children, “I’m sure,” Roy began through gritted teeth, “We can make this work,”

And finally, Jamie agreed, “How hard can it be?” you sighed in relief however soon after decided to kick the pair out your flat to try decompress from this whole mess.

What you hadn’t seen was the icy glares they shared as they both gave you a goodbye kiss and left. “May the best boyfriend win,” Roy said as they walked down the stairs of your flats.

A cocky smirk went on Jamie’s face, “I intend to,”

-

While you enjoyed love and affection even you knew this was getting excessive. Your date with Roy went from being a meal out at a local diner he liked to Roy cooking you a three-course meal from scratch in his house with a bottle of ridiculously expensive wine to match. “This is worth more than my rent,”

“Yeah, but nothings worth more than you,”

-

You had been awing over the whole evening all night and all day the next day to your friends however Roy had also been bragging about the whole ordeal to Jamie. So, Jamie naturally knew he had to step up his game.

-

Jamie arrived to your flat at 10pm with a blindfold and his car keys. He led you to your seat before insisting you put on the blindfold until you got to your mystery location. “I’m gonna fall,” you squealed as Jamie helped you out the car and you felt your shoes hit soft grass.

“You’ll just have to hold onto me then wont ya?” you didn’t have to see him to hear his smirk and you knew he could tell you were rolling your eyes.

Eventually after many stumbles and almost facing planting a couple times Jamie had you take off your blindfold. “The park?” you looked around confused before realisation hit when you saw the blanket laid on the grass.

“Thought we could look at the stars and that,” Jamie mumbled, pink tinging his cheeks.

You lent forward, placing a kiss to the hot cheek, “You’re such a softie,”

“Only for you,” he grinned as he sat down on the blanket, pulling you with him, “Brought snacks as well,” he said handing over the picnic basket.

Unlike usual picnic baskets with sandwiches and cakes this was filled with all your favourite sweets, crisps, pringles, and cans of fizzy juice. Jamie laid down on the blanket, pulling you into his arms so you could stare at the stars together. It was so peaceful you almost fell asleep right there.

-

At first you thought it couldn’t get better but it wasn’t just the romance they were trying to out do each other on. Whenever they weren’t taking you out on sappy film worthy dates you were being dragged to the nearest bed, sofa, or car. Not that you were complaining, however.

What you didn’t know what Roy and Jamie actually came up with a schedule in their own time of who got to see you when. Neither was happy with the outcome, claiming the other got the better days or more time despite making it up themselves.

Apparently last night had been Roy’s night but between taking you bowling and mini golfing then not letting you leave the bedroom for several rounds you ended up sleeping in later than usual. You woke up in Roy’s arms to a text from Jamie saying he was coming over.

You groaned when you saw it, not realising Roy was awake, “You good?”

“Yeah, its just,” you sighed before deciding to just get it off your chest, “I’m just tired. Don’t get me wrong I loved yesterday and all our other dates, but I just wish we could all hang out sometimes,”

“You want me to hang out with that twat?” he asked, eyebrow raised. This was exactly what you meant. You groaned and went to roll away, but Roy wrapped his arms around you to stop you, “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I guess we were so wrapped up in being the best boyfriend we didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’ll stay, if you want me to,”

You perked up at that, giving Roy a kick excited kiss, “and you’ll be nice?” a loud groan came from Roy, “please?” you whined.

A small smile appeared on his lips, “fine. For you,”

-

Jamie’s reaction was oddly similar to Roy’s that you wondered why they weren’t already friends with how similar they could be. You were currently sat with your feet in Roy’s lap, your head resting on Jamie’s shoulder, watching some trashy dating show both boys pretended to hate but suddenly had strong opinions about.

“What is she doing? Her and Declan are made for each other,”

“Yeah, right?” Jamie nodded in enthusiastic agreement, “What’s so special about Simon?”

You couldn’t help but snigger at the pair. “You two boys wanna be left alone?” you teased only to be met with unison hushes as a new contestants entered the villa and drama ensued.

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[elswing]

i hate posting discourse it's pointless and doesn't do anything for me except prolong my annoyance but i'm Tired™ and feel like shouting into the void. apologies to my beautiful feanorian mutuals please look away i love u

i neeeeeeed everyone to stop claiming they like elwing if their characterisation of her is completely made-up biased bullshit that paints her as an immature and disdained ruler (?????) who couldn't balance her responsibilities with the husband she married too young (at 22. practically a child bride honestly) and the children she never wanted (where. where does it say this). she's clearly such a bad mother that she abandoned them at first opportunity (she knew the feanorians were more than capable of killing a pair of twin boys because they literally already did that. that's very much a thing that already happened. to her brothers) and it was her selfish nature that made her soooo eager to flee (she had no reason to think ulmo would save her it was literally a suicide attempt. she wanted to make sure the deaths of her people and presumed deaths of her sons weren't in vain by ensuring they never obtained the silmaril)

like i'm gonna touch your hand as i say this. it's okay if you hate her! just don't pretend that you weren't thriving in the 2016 era of silm fandom where everyone pushed all their male fave's negative traits onto any other woman in a 5 mile radius to grab Poor Little Meow Meow status for war criminal #1 #2 and #3 to then turn around and spout the exact same (factually untrue) sexist rhetoric concealed under seven layers of buzzwords just because it's the year of "unlikable and complicated female characters" like buddy who are we talking about here. have you perhaps considered making an oc?

and i'm NOT saying i want the whole fandom to mimic my exact opinions and thoughts about elwing i realise that one of the best parts of the silm is how divisive it is and how you have so much wiggle room to come to your own interpretations because of how VAGUE the source material is but i'm genuinely convinced everyone's just parroting shit they saw in ao3 fanfics where maglor is secretly lindir and the premise is elrond sneaking him into valinor and elwing yells at him for slaughtering her people. TWICE. and this is framed as a category 5 Woman Moment so elrond disowns her and calls maglor his real dad

(eärendil misses this entire ordeal because he went on a voyage to save the world that one time and no one's let him live it down since because the whole fandom as a collective decided he did this because he's a terrible dad and not because the whole continent was at war and about to be wiped out and maybe he came to the unfortunate but reasonable conclusion that leaving is the best thing he could do for his family if it meant there was a chance his sons could grow up safe in a world that wasn't ruled by Fucking Satan so now his whole Beloved Sacrificial Lion: The Thin Line Between Doomed and Prophesized Hero™ shtick is tossed out in favour of.... *checks notes* Guy Who Forgot To Pay Child Support? oh and they're a lot louder about this because he's a man so no one can call it misogyny that's why no one ever goes the #girlflop #ILoveMyBlorbosNastyAndComplicated route with him and he gets dubbed as that one asshole who just wanted fame and glory even though that goes against the general themes for tolkien's hero characters. and tolkien loved that dude to bits that was his specialist little guy so you can't seriously tell me you think that's what he was trying to portray???????? is that seriously what you think he was trying to portray????????? babe????????????

also there's a BIG difference when it's a character that's only named in one draft and doesn't exist in the rest or gil-galad who has like three and a half possible fathers but ELWING??????? the only possible way you could be coming to these conclusions is if you read the damn book with your eyes closed. FUCK.

[leclerc-s]

big reputations - part eight

series masterlist // previous // next

charles leclerc i've decided that this week i will be driving like a menace.

daniel ricciardo i see track terror is making a comeback this week.

max verstappen no more inchidents please.

charles leclerc mate let it go already. it's been over 10 years.

max verstappen admit you pushed me into that puddle and i'll let it go!

oscar piastri i see why the entire internet is convinced you two are secretly dating

charles leclerc excuse me? max verstappen they're what? sabrina carpenter lestappen is lestappening

daniel ricciardo to be fair, they think k-mag and nico are in love with each other, have been since the whole 'suck my balls' thing

daphne jones didn't we have this conversation already?

max verstappen that was in the other group chat

sabrina carpenter YOU HAVE A GROUP CHAT WITHOUT US? THIS IS TREASON!

oscar piastri OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!

charles leclerc THIS IS TREACHEROUS!

daphne jones oh grow up, it was started before you three were even in the picture. we don't use it much these days.

sabrina carpenter good. otherwise i'd throw a fit.

max verstappen don't you always?

sabrina carpenter i will make your life miserable verstappen

max verstappen you already do by existing every day.

lando norris MR. RICCIARDO ARE YOU OR ARE NOT A MASTERMIND?! THE TWITTER GIRLIES WANT TO KNOW!!

daniel ricciardo the hell are you talking about lando?

pierre gasly so you saw the same twitter thread i did?

max verstappen i completely forgot daphne had performed at the 2016 austin grand prix.

lewis hamilton huh that did happen

lando norris DANIEL ARE YOU A MASTERMIND?

logan sargeant was going to ask why but then i realized what the song is about.

mark webber i don't get it? what's the song about?

oscar piastri forgive him, he's uncultured.

mark webber that's it, no more sabrina time for you. oscar piastri sabrina said you can't separate siblings. tell him charles! charles leclerc yeah! what she said! lando norris wait a fucking minute, are you all together right now?

carlos sainz is that family thing working for you guys?

max verstappen it actually is. you should've seen the group chat after texas.

max verstappen on second thought maybe not. daniel ricciardo yeah, that's not a good idea. oscar piastri things were said by sabrina. charles leclerc well when you say it like that you make it sound bad. nothing bad was said, they're being dramatic. although, she might be in love with fernando daniel ricciardo you do remember the spa inchident don't you? alex albon they call him fernando rizzlonso

lando norris renamed daniel ricciardo

mastermind hilarious lando. truely.

lando norris you never confirmed or denied it. i took matters into my own hands.

pierre gasly question for sabrina, how does one get a song like nonsense written about them?

sabrina carpenter what an odd question pear gasly, i'd say by dating a singer? which is better for me because that way i can steal your girlfriend with no obstacles.

aelx albon she's a menace.

max verstappen THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING!

oscar piastri it's not that great of a song. i don't get the hype?

sabrina carpenter added one person

sabrina carpenter oscar's been disowned. he didn't know the words to love story.

charles leclerc max doesn't either?

oscar piastri what the hell are you talking about sabrina?

sabrina carpenter i saw that mclaren video.

daphne jones it's one song sabrina, let it go. this is not going to turn into another spa situation.

yuki tsunoda excuse me while i go scream into the void

logan sargeant wait for me! lance stroll and me!

lando norris daniel probably

sabrina carpenter lando with all of his teammates

lando norris man fuck you sabrina

carlos sainz what's the spa situation?

daphne jones you don't want to know, trust me. oscar piastri for your sanity, you don't want to know. daniel ricciardo please don't get her started again.

sabrina carpenter mr. sainz, you truly do not want to get me started. as i said before, i may not have been present for spa but i can and will bite ankles for oscar.

mastermind so who's free to go to daphne's concert in argentina on the 11th?

lando norris SIGN ME TF UP!!

yuki tsunoda I'M IN!

alex albon depends, can i bring lily?

mastermind of course! - sabrina mastermind that's my wife! - sabrina

logan sargeant ready to dance along to the fearless era

mastermind bold of any of you to think you have a choice. I EXPECT ALL OF YOU THERE! - SABRINA

mastermind love the name btw - sabrina

charles leclerc to quote sabrina, "i expect ass shaking for vigilante shit."

oscar piastri dear i god i hope none of you do that.

lando norris well now i'm going to.

sebastian vettel well she's certainly something.

max verstappen she's a menace.

lewis hamilton huh, sounds like someone back in 2016 to 2018. max verstappen YOU TAKE THAT BACK! lewis hamilton i don't think i will

mastermind JUSTICE FOR ABU DHABI 2021 - SABRINA

oscar piastri she just likes to stir the pot.

mark webber sounds like someone else and the infamous alpine tweet.

oscar piastri okay, that was one time.

esteban ocon argentina right before vegas? doesn't seem like a good idea to me but i'm in.

lando norris BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!

jenson button so is daniel dating daphne or not?

mastermind that's a secret i'll never tell - xoxo gossip girl.

alex albon something is brewing i can feel it.

taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call @smol-scream @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i’m back for 2024! i tried something different for this chapter and i think i liked it so i'm going to change it for all of the other parts, which is going to be a bitch because it's gonna take forever. it's also not that big of a change but i think it makes a difference.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!

[punkeropercyjackson]

FUCK FUCK FUCK I COMPLETELY FORGOT THE ACTUAL POINT I WAS GONNA SAY ON MY 'Hobie hates cute things is a ratio ass take' POST WHICH IS Hobie expressed all his beliefs very clearly onscreen-He's anti-capitalism,he believes in solidarity between all minorities but prioritizes other black people,he's completely nonconformist and he thinks people who're considered 'super lame' are his friends by default.That's why i said Margo would get him a game emulator instead of a game console and also want to add on that if he wants merch of anything from something that's not by a small studio he just diy's copies of them and learns recipes of big food chains instead of going to the restaurants,as a black person he's obviously experienced tons of masculanization that was used as dehumanization too and again he wears a crop top and lipstick so i think it's obvious how he's decided to respond and i really doubt he'd be that close to Gwen and Miles if he thought softness and 'immaturity' are something that should be made fun of in other kids.What i'm trying to say is you guys are making Hobie out to be a trope instead of fully fleshed out representation with traits that actively contradict what he's actually like and ngl i find it insulting towards him that you guys actually think Hobie's enough of a supersized pissbaby to get whiny over not being a macho edgecase 24/7 even when the nigga literally killed a police chief at like,16 at the OLDEST,and as i will never stop saying:Canon femme,pink-coded,Dad Friend.As long as it's not shit that goes against actual punk rules,he'd do doing pretty much anything the Spiderband wants with them but they wouldn't to begin with anyway because by the time they'd gotten the chance to hang out normally he'd already radicalized them.Please,read multiple books,punk is a legit culture and pastel punks exist-Hi,it's me!!!-and i'm specifically talking about this because y'all the same slapping the punk label onto any edgelord who has disproven they are as like their arc even.THERE WE GO FINALLY Sorry,i have unmedicated adhd demons

[aurorawritestoescape]

The Visit

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Tw: 18+ mdni, pwp, slight brat/brat tamer dynamic, oral (m receiving), impact play with a phone handset, bondage, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up, be safe!), cum eating, semi public, swearing, a little trolling of Murphy.

Summary: you pay Javi a visit to his office.

Word count: 3,2k

A/n: @milla-frenchy thank you for the support and encouragement!💖🫂

——————————————————————————

You barge into Javi`s office with a dripping umbrella in one hand and a brown take out bag in the other. He called you earlier to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t come for dinner and asked you not to wait up for him. He sounded a little stressed but you could tell that it was 6/10 on a Javi stress level scale so you decided to make his and most importantly yours evening better.

You are wearing a beige trench-coat that you recently bought, inspired by an adult film you had seen a long time ago where a woman in a trench-coat and nothing underneath surprises her man this way. Spending your evening alone at home you were excited to see the rain start outside. Why not visit Javi’s office?

“Qué pasó, cariño?” he asks you with a trace of worry in his voice standing up from his desk and walking up to you. You look him up and down with hunger, opening your umbrella and placing it on the floor to dry. He’s wearing a blue shirt and jeans. His sleeves are rolled up and just the sight of his muscular forearms makes your clit twitch.

“Sorry for interrupting your work. I just hated the thought of you sitting here all hungry and alone,” you pout your lips, walking past him to his desk and putting the food down.

“I’m not alone. Murphy had to meet someone but he’s gonna be back soon. And I had a bite earlier,” he explains looking at you with his tired puppy eyes.

You’re nodding absentmindedly biting your cheek with worry. You didn’t expect Murphy to still be working. You kinda forgot that he existed at all. And who could expect you to think straight when Javier Peña was your man. His broad shoulders, narrow waist and oh so perfect ass have been on your mind all day and by the end of it you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you senseless on his office desk. And if Murphy was the man to ruin your plans… fucking Murphy!

“Maybe I can keep you company while he’s away,” you say, faking innocence as you move some things away on his desk to make space for yourself. Then you hop onto its edge, crossing your feet in black stilettos which you know he loves on you. The trench-coat tails open up a little revealing your bare thighs underneath.

Now it’s Javi’s turn to leer at you and he groans, placing his hands on the hips. He just stares at you from under his furrowed brows for some time shifting his jaw from side to side as if contemplating what to do with you. Then he walks closer enough for his jeans to brush your knees and glances down at your legs.

Using just his thumbs he moves your coat out of the way until you’re exposed completely from your waist down. You bite your lower lip glancing up at him innocently as he sees that you are wearing nothing but red lacy panties. He inhales sharply and takes your chin between his fingers.

“What the hell are you doing, bebita?”

Babygirl. You know you’re in trouble judging by his tone. You just bat your lashes at him and whisper, “Wanted to surprise you. I want you, Javi.”

The last phrase is said with the brattiest voice you’ve ever had and that immediately feels like a mistake. He takes your cheeks between his fingers and squishes them together, making your lips pout. It doesn’t hurt but you wince anyway.

“I told you I had a lot of work. Other people work here. Couldn’t you just wait till I came home and fucked you?”

He’s throwing daggers at you with his dark eyes but his hand is slowly creeping up to your belt untying it and opening you up like a present.

Still holding your face he drops his head to see a glimpse of your naked chest. With his free hand he opens the coat wider. Your nipples are already perked up and very sensitive. The coat fabric was pleasantly chafing them on your way to Javi’s office.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath and you quip, your lips still pushed forward, “‘s why I’m here”.

Another mistake. Javi smirks and lets go of your face. He takes a step back to take in the image of you almost naked on his desk; your breasts exposed and panties so tiny there’s practically no use in them. They cover almost nothing and he surely can see them glistening with your arousal under the office lights.

“Coat off,” he commands and you quickly hop off the desk and discard your outwear trying not to smile as the excitement burns inside your belly. Javi notices it.

“Don’t think you’re not getting punished for that, bebita.”

You’re standing in front of him shifting from one leg to the other. “What do you mean, my love?” you ask softly and he comes close. “I mean-,” his shoes now frame yours as his jean-clad hard-on pushes into your mound,-you’ll get what you deserve”.

Your breath hitches as he puts his big hands on your waist and pushes you back slowly until you feel his desk with the back of your thighs. You stare up at him, heart beating fast, feeling hypnotized by his hungry gaze.

He leans in and kisses you, first gently and then more and more desperately. You slide your arms under his and hold him tight, his broad frame crowding you against his desk.

He parts from you and you whine. His hand is on the back of your head and he grabs a fistful of your hair tugging on it lightly. Your head tilts back exposing your neck and chest to him. His eyes move down to your breasts, then rise to your face. His voice, deep and raspy, makes you so wet that you feel your slick on your inner thighs.

“Such a desperate little thing. Walking through the rain for this cock. You want it really bad, cariño?” His hand slides down your back and grabs your ass cheek.

“Yeah, Javi. I need you,” you answer looking into his eyes.

“See I’m not sure that you deserve it, bebita,” he says, squeezing your ass, “you interrupt my work, come in here wearing nothing but this.” He leans back to stare down at your panties and his fingers graze over the thin lace. You feel his touch on your clit and a whimper escapes your parted lips.

“What if someone sees you here, with your gorgeous tits out, huh? These tits - he cups them roughly - are mine. This pussy - he grabs your cunt- is mine. So pray to God that no one sees you here taking your punishment.”

At that he grabs your arms, spins you around and bends you over the desk. His big hand between your shoulder blades presses you down to the surface and you squeak when you feel it cold against your body. You hear cluttering as he’s reaching for something on the desk and in your peripheral vision you notice a phone in his hand.

"Javi, who are you calling?" you ask with confusion before you feel something cold touch your backside. You instinctively flinch away but he grabs the back of your neck to hold you still.

"Told you you're getting punished, cariño, and I'm not a liar."

At that you feel an object land harshly on your asscheek. You gasp more out of surprise than pain. It burns just a little.

"What the fuck, Javi?!"

"How many do you deserve, cariño?" he asks in a saccharine tone, caressing your hit flesh with the phone handset. Your emotions overtake you and you can't produce one word. He's about to spank you with a fucking phone?!!

A mixture of “don’t know” and a moan escapes your lips and he laughs at that too loudly for a person who didn’t want to be caught in the act just minutes ago.

“Look at you, already cock drunk. Haven’t even fucked you yet.” His voice changes tone to more serious, “I’m thinking ‘ten’. Count!”

Another slap, this one with more force, is followed by your whimper. “I said count,” he spanks your ass again and you squeal, “three!”

“No, uno, cariño,” he chuckles and lands another blow, much harder now as it makes your ass jiggle.

“Uno,” you echo him quietly. He slaps your cheeks over and over and you count. Every blow is followed by your moan as you feel its impact deep inside your core, the vibrations going through your folds send you closer and closer to the edge.

“Diez,” you count the last slap panting as the endorphins course through your veins. Your ass is sore and surely must be red right now. You’re glad that you don’t have any tight clothes to put on.

Javi’s hand leaves your back and you push yourself up from the desk and clumsily stand up swaying on your high heels. Javi steadies your trembling body and you lean on his broad chest nuzzling his neck. The mixture of his cologne and sweat clouds your mind even more. He tilts your head up and his plush lips find yours giving you the respite and comfort.

His hand slides down between your bodies and you hear him unbuckling his belt and dropping it on the floor. Then he grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up and carefully puts you on the desk. Your asscheeks sting and you hiss against his lips.

“Hurts, mi amor?” he coos at you, but you feel a shade of smugness in his voice. “‘s fine,” you lie as he’s staring at your breasts bouncing at every move as you’re trying to take a more comfortable position. Javi’s gaze slides down your body to your tiny panties and he growls unzipping his jeans. He takes his gorgeous cock out and both your heart and pussy flutter, finally so close to getting what you’ve been anticipating all day. You take a deep breath, impatient to be stuffed full by him and open your legs as an invitation.

He slides his knuckles against the soaked front of your panties and you moan at this slightest pressure.

Your hand darts to his throbbing length wanting to touch, jerk, feel him on your skin, inside you now, now, immediately. But he snatches your hand and grabs both of your wrists pinning them to your back.

“Nooo, Javi, please,” you whine, grinding your pussy against the surface of his desk to alleviate the need for his cock.

“You’ve been a bad girl today. Bad girls don’t get it their way.” Saying that he starts restraining your hands behind your back. You turn your head back to see that he’s using the phone cord to tie you up.

You widen your eyes at him with “fuck, Javi,” and bite your lower lip at the idea of being at his complete mercy, tied up, naked and helpless, ready to be used. His name on your lips sounds more like a prayer now, full of hope and adoration.

His eyes are nothing but lust and hunger at this point. He yanks your hips forward roughly and you fall back on your restrained hands, your back arched and breasts pushed out. He takes his cock in his hand again and slides the tip against your joke of an underwear. You feel his heat through the lace and plead, “Fuck me, Javi, plea..” you don’t finish because in a flash his mouth is on yours, his tongue slides in between your lips unceremoniously, claiming you, the whole of you.

Suddenly you feel him tug on your panties’ waistband from the side, harder and harder until they snap and he slips them from under you, your pussy so soaked they slide away easily. The next moment the tip of his cock nudges against your clit flipping it up and down, driving you crazy with the arousal.

You start moaning so he quickly shuts you up with a palm over your mouth and you poke your tongue out to get a taste of his salty skin. The tip of his fat cock pushes at your entrance before he slides it inside you slowly. You’re both watching his length disappear inside your dripping pussy.

“Mírala, mi amor. Look at her. Always takes it so well.”

He slides in deeper and you feel your walls envelop his cock. His other hand is on your lower back pushing you closer to him. You meet him halfway and he bottoms out with “oh, yeah.”

You marvel at the sight of your bodies joined together and shut your eyes feeling him deep inside your core. The heat of arousal is coursing through you and your pussy squeezes him making his cock twitch. You open your eyes with a whine and see him staring at the place where you both connect. He grabs your hips for leverage and starts pulling out as slowly as he’s impaled you before.

His shaft is leaving the warmth of your cunt glistening with your juices and when he’s almost completely out he pushes his cock in with a hard thrust. You cry out and he starts pounding you.

You’re chewing on your lips to keep yourself from crying out “oh’s” and “yeah’s” trying to be discreet at his workplace.

His fingers sink into your soft hips and you welcome the idea of the bruises decorating you the next day. “Fuck, she can’t be tighter,” he groans as his thumb darts to your pussy, “let’s make her suffocate my cock.”

His finger slides between your folds and you tilt your hips up to give him better access. His cock is massaging your walls at a different angle now and these new sensations blind you for a second and you almost come. The movements of his thumb are sure and deliberate, he’s not playing with you like he does sometimes giving pleasure and then stealing it away. No, he needs you to come now but it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t start taunting him. “Already done, Javi? What if I don’t wanna come yet?” you ask while your hazy eyes are glinting with mischief. You can’t stand the thought of this, this here ending, hate the idea of him not being inside you even for a reward of a climax.

“Don’t play with me, bebita,” he warns you as his wet thumb leaves your clit and he slides it into your mouth.

“Taste how desperate you’re for this cock, your pussy wants to come. So I’ll make her come.”

At that he replaces his thumb between your lips with two thick fingers to coat them with your saliva. You suck on them with your eyes fluttering shut feeling his cock and fingers inside your body.

Javi pulls his digits out and you whine at the loss following them with your blown out eyes. He takes them back to your pussy and you expect him to rub your clit again but his wet and slightly cold fingers reach the place where he’s pounding into you. He turns his hand palm up and puts it against his cock.

“Javi, they won’t fit, too big,” you worry watching as he’s poking into your hole stretched out around his thick length.

“Shhh..,” he shushes you, working them in slowly, bit by bit. You tilt your head back and chills cover your skin as you feel his fingers slide fully inside joining his member. He begins fucking you with both his cock and fingers as your poor pussy tries to accommodate them. It aches pleasantly and you moan.

Watching your reaction Javi curves his digits and rhythmically pushes on the spongy spot inside you. His cock and fingers glide in and out of your cunt in unison. You feel your climax rushing and cry out his name. “Fuck!” he growls getting closer to his own release and starts thrusting into you faster and harder while the pads of his fingers hit your g-spot over and over again. You can’t help but moan louder so he hastily pulls you in for a kiss. Your body starts convulsing with pleasure, every cell ablaze and you come hard, limbs shaking and walls contracting around his fingers and cock. You cry out into his mouth and he swallows your sounds down. His own clothed chest starts vibrating against yours and he begins coming. His cock stills inside you pumping you full of his cum as his hand is prolonging your orgasm. Soon the squelching sounds fill the office as his fingers work your pussy overflowing with his seed.

The kiss turns gentle and slow as you both gradually come down from your high. “Hurts,” you whisper, breaking the kiss as overstimulation hits you. Javi gently pulls out his fingers and puts them in his mouth tasting you and him and sucking them clean. His softening cock twitches inside you.

“Nothing for me?” you complain with pouty lips and he smirks.

He pulls his cock out and nods down. You don’t need another invitation so you drop to your knees, hands still tied behind your back. Javi’s phone slides on the desk following you. He guides his member to your mouth and you lick it clean, the taste of his cum so familiar and delicious you hum in pleasure. His seed trickles down your inner thighs and you press them together, smearing it against your skin.

“My dirty girl,” Javi praises you watching your tongue gather every drop of his cum and your juices. When his cock is clean he puts it back and zips up his jeans. He helps you up and embraces you, finally releasing your hands.

You rub your wrists and notice the reddish marks around them. You smile and look up at Javi.

“Thank you for the visit. I needed that,” he says, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He’s peppering your wrists with kisses before his mustache tickles your delicate skin and you giggle taking your hands away. You clasp your arms around his neck and give him a kiss.

You’re glued to each other for some time until you hear a door slam in the building and you both rush to get your trench-coat. Javi picks it up first and helps you to put it on. You close the coat just in time before Murphy walks in completely wet.

“Fuck this rain,” he grumbles until he notices you and greets you with a surprised smile.

You greet him back tying your belt and go past him to get your umbrella.

Javi sees you to the door and kisses you goodbye. “See you later,” you whisper with a naughty smile. You’re sure the air smells like sex and you leave the office trying to contain your giggles. As you walk along the corridor you hear Murphy’s voice. “Peña, why the fuck are there panties on my desk?”

——————

“Qué pasó, cariño?” - What happened, sweetheart?

bebita- babygirl

Mírala - look at her

Mi amor- my love

——————

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated🩵

Tags: @iamasaddie @missannwinchester @danaispunk

[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 5: Hyacinth, Florist

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel showed up bright and early the day after his break ended. For a week Cassian had heard not even a peep from Azriel. 

And then Azriel walked into the House of Wind, looking none the worse for wear.

“How was your break?” Cassian asked him, taking him in. Looking no different than he ever had before. Though not relaxed. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“Can we spar?” Azriel asked in response and Cassian’s brows rose. 

Ouch. That break had seemingly not gone that well. 

“That bad, hm?” he asked, though just nodded towards the sparring ring. “How’s your Ma?” he asked and Azriel just stared at him. 

“She’s as good as she can get,” he snapped back. Right.

His expression must have shown his shock, because Azriel held still for a moment, seemingly forcing himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment...

“ I am in a mood,” Azriel warned him, finally. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I ever did,” Cassian quipped. 

He should have probably taken that warning more seriously. 

He didn’t. 

Azriel nearly had him tapping out within the first few minutes. 

There was an aggression behind his fighting that Cassian had only seen very rarely. An aggression that belied Azriel just “being in a mood”. 

This wasn’t just being in a mood. 

This was feral levels of aggression. This was being so upset that Azriel needed to hit something to get it out and clearly Cassian was that something of choice that day. 

Azriel won. Of course, he did. he wanted it far more than Cassian did. 

“You broke my fucking nose,” he complained afterwards, spitting out the blood. The nose was thankfully the only broken bone. Though he was definitely gonna feel the bruises for a few days. 

Azriel seemed on a more even keel though, so Cassian would gladly take the broken nose. 

 “I am sorry,” Azriel apologised earnestly. 

And that was that. 

Az seemed back to his usual levels of weirdness, no longer randomly wanting his first break after 500 years, no more comments about table linens…and sometimes Cassian even thought that he caught his brother smiling softly, pleased at something.

He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Cassian had more pressing problems. Like what he should buy Nesta for her birthday…Mor decided to tag along which was decisively unhelpful. How could a female who clearly liked shopping for herself be so completely horrible at choosing gifts for her family? 

“Wait, is that Az?” Mor said suddenly as they left another shop empty-handed. Cassian’s head swivelled around. 

And it was indeed Az, standing around at a flower cart, clearly chatting to the owner. 

By the cauldron, had Cassian been right all along?!?

Mor and him exchanged a glance, both of them narrowing down to their brother just a few feet away from him. 

“Which flowers?” Azriel asked at that moment, clearly contemplating two different bouquets. The female on the other side of the card was pretty, delicate with fluttering wings resembling a butterfly, and bright blue hair that was cropped close to her head. 

A Palote Fairy. Clearly far from home in the summer court. 

Maybe that was why Azriel had been keeping her a secret. Maybe it was some unfounded worry of her being a lesser fairie. 

Did Az and her take long leisurely flights over Velaris and go picnicking? Somehow that seemed like the kind of thing she would enjoy. Their children would probably end up being the most magical thing that Cassian had ever seen. He wondered what wings would turn out to be the dominant ones. The idea of an Illyrian with butterfly wings was definitely something, that much was certain. 

“Jasmine these days. She hasn’t talked about anything since you bought them the first time,” said butterfly girl told Azriel, smiling prettily at him. 

Cassian held back a noise that Mor would have never let him life down. Something akin to a squeal threatened to come out of his throat. 

Was this the female Azriel was stupidly in love with? 

She clearly seemed to be nice enough not to turn down his advances flat out, instead both of them happily chatting. 

“Thank you, Hyacinth,” Azriel thanked her as Hyacinth , which must be her name started wrapping a bundle of dark blooming jasmines for him. He handed her a couple of coins, as she gave him the flowers, not for one moment flinching away from his scars. 

“Will you be there on Friday?” Hyacinth asked him, excitement apparent in her voice. 

Where are they going to have a date? 

“I have been told that my attendance is mandatory. Because I need to learn how to swing my hips like a proper male,” Azriel responded, his usual dry humour apparent. Cassian could still only stare. 

They were going to have a date!

“You’ll have a fantastic teacher,” Hyacinth said with a wink. 

“Oh, I expect nothing less,” Azriel agreed.

A fantastic teacher. Was Hyacinth going to be the teacher? 

Mor dragged Cassian along with a hand on his arm, calling for Azriel. “Az!”

“Mor. Cassian,” Azriel greeted them, not seeming surprised at all at their sudden appearance. Nor particularly displeased about it or hesitant. 

“Don’t you want to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Mor said, sounding giddy as they arrived at Azriel’s side. 

Yes, Azriel, introduce us to your girlfriend, Cass mentally agreed unable to keep the bright grin off his face. 

What he hadn’t expected was for the blue-haired female to burst into laughter. 

“ Hyacinth is married,” Azriel said drily. “And definitely not my girlfriend.”

And Cassian’s hopes were shattered once again. 

“I am very much spoken for. He is too,” Hyacinth responded, still trying to starve down the laughter, and failing horribly. 

Damnit. 

“What brings you two here?” Azriel asked, still holding onto his flower bouquet.  

“Well, Cassian needs help with a gift for Nesta,” Mor said brightly. “I offered my help.”

Azriel stared at him like Cassian had grown a second head. 

Quite frankly, it was understandable.

But Mor had offered her input and he hadn’t been able to politely turn her down. 

“What’s in that bag?” Azriel asked, nodding to the one lone shopping back that Cassian held, sounding like he didn’t want to know. 

“Well…” Cassian started but Azriel just shook his head. 

“You know what, I don’t want to know. Come on,” he said drily, the flowers disappearing from his hand, being whisked away by his shadows somewhere. “I’ll see you on Friday, Hyacinth!” He called over his shoulder, Hyacinth waving them off the ring to the next customer. 

“Where are we going?” He dared to ask, trailing after Azriel, who walked around the Rainbow like he knew every cobblestone personally. Maybe he did. Goodness knew what Azriel’s shadows got up to when they weren’t busy spying for Rhys. 

“We’ll buy Nesta a proper birthday gift,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes. 

Mor stopped at a clothing store, staring at a dress in the window. “I’ll catch up with you!” she said brightly and off she went, leaving Cassian with this gift debacle.

 “Mor, really?” Azriel asked with a sigh as soon as she had entered the store.  

“Who else was I supposed to ask?” Cassian gave back defensively.

“Feyre? Elain? Emerie? Gwyn? Rhys?” Azriel suggested drily. “Hell, Amren would have been better.” He muttered under his breath. 

Azriel stopped at a smaller store, the dark blue signage proclaiming it an understated “ The Goldmine”. 

He had never even noticed the shop when he had been in the Rainbow, though a giggling group of young High Faes was leaving it. 

Clearly, it was well-liked in the community. 

Azriel pushed open the door, waving him through.   

“Good Morning,” Azriel greeted the High Fae at the counter, a rounded female with green eyes, a pale complexion, and curly light brown hair. She was very pretty in an unassuming way and greeted Azriel wide-eyed. 

The Goldmine was clearly a jewellery shop, with merchandise laid out in the glass cases on the walls and in the middle of the room. 

Cassian was already feeling slightly overwhelmed and he hadn’t even been asked to pick out anything yet. 

“Oh, I am so sorry, she isn’t there currently,” the High Fae blurted out, blushing as soon as she saw Azriel.  

“I know,” Azriel agreed, looking not surprised in the least. Cassian wondered who they were talking about. “She’s out shopping with Briony. But that’s not why I am here.” That also didn’t answer any of the questions he was having. “Cassian, that’s Penelope,” Azriel introduced Cassian.  “Penelope, Cassian, my brother. Cassian needs a birthday gift for his mate,” Azriel explained patiently. Cassian approached the counter that Azriel was leaning against with some trepidation. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Penelope greeted him. “What does your mate like to wear as jewellery?” She asked, all business and Cassian drew a blank. 

He could write whole books about what Nesta liked and disliked. He could. 

But right now, he had no idea. 

“Hairpins that double as Stiletto Blades,” he blurted out. Penelope stared at him, green eyes wide. 

“We…We don’t really sell that?” she offered up hesitantly, while Azriel next to him was silently shaking with laughter before he swallowed it down and decided to be helpful. 

“You had new hair combs coming in, didn’t you?” Azriel asked and for one moment Cassian wondered why Azriel knew what kind of new shipments a jewellery store got. 

“We did!” Penelope agreed immediately, pulling out a tray from behind the counter. 

Cassian heard the bell ring behind him, and Azriel waved off Penelope apologising as she started to take care of the newest customer. 

Instead, he took the tray and pushed it in Cassian’s direction. 

“How am I supposed to pick?” he asked with no small amount of trepidation at the dozen choices laid out before him. Every style imagination, in gold and silver and whatever other metal there were there. 

“Pick one that reminds you of Nesta,” Azriel said easily. “And if you only like the shape of one, the gems can be easily changed out,” Azriel assured him, as he picked up one comb, turning it around in scarred hands. 

Cassian went back to staring at the hair combs. 

Every single one of them was a separate work of art. Some more intricate than others. Some with careful engravings, some set with stones, others letting the metal do the talking. He didn’t dare to touch them, even when Azriel carefully turned them in his hands and checked them over. 

“This is moonstone and yellow gold,” Azriel explained softly as he pointed out one with a row of milky-white stones set in yellow gold. “This is amber. Probably from the beaches of Summer Court…This is white opal,” he said as he pointed out another two. 

Cassian’s gaze kept being pulled back to intricate designs with swirls set in diamonds and some kind of red stone, too dark to be ruby. Azriel followed his gaze. 

“You could have the garnets replaced with your siphons,” he suggested evenly. 

“They can do that?” Cassian asked surprised and Azriel gave a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“How did you find this place?” Cassian asked curiously. This wasn’t…Azriel had never worn any kind of jewellery. or at least none that Cassian had ever seen…Azriel picked out the comb that Cassian had picked, turning it over in his hands…and for the first time Cassian saw a thin bracelet stretching over his wrist. It was so black that it would would easily sink into the black of his fighting leathers, so of course that would have made sure that Cassian didn’t notice it. But right now Az wasn’t wearing fighting leathers but a simple dark shirt, and so it stood out more against his skin. 

“I know the owner,” Azriel answered the question, his voice quiet. His scent changed suddenly, to Cassian’s surprise from contentment to happiness. 

“Did you ever buy anything from here?” he asked and Azriel hummed. 

“Of sorts.”

“How can you buy something from sorts?” Cassian wondered. How did that even work? 

“If the person doesn’t let you pay in money, does that count as buying?” Azriel gave back with a shrug. 

What? “How else would you pay?” Cassian asked. How? 

“I get a special discount,” Azriel told him sagely. 

“For what?” Cassian asked and then his jaw dropped when…suddenly it…Was Azriel paying for whatever he bought with sex? 

His brother hit him on the back of his head with zero hesitation. 

“Not that ,” Azriel told him drily. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Cassian snapped. 

"It was written all over your face," Azriel replied, rolling his eyes. “I know the owner. That’s why I get a special discount.”

Fine. 

Still, the hair comb was a way better gift than anything that anything he had come up with lately, so he thanked his brother for that. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Azriel responded easily.

Cassian should just really give up trying to figure out who was Azriel’s special somebody. He was never going to get it right.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hi! So I was just wondering if you could to an angst to fluff one-shot with either James Hetfeild or Duff Mckagan?? (Whichever era and whoever you pick:>. And only if you want to, if not totally fine!)

Basically, just whoever you pick to write for comes home late from the studio on him and readers anniversary and had completely forgotten until he saw reader asleep with dry tears on her face. And the next morning they do everything they can to make up for forgetting their anniversary and ends up succeeding:)

(Hope that makes sense)

A/n: This is quite possibly my favourite angst prompt to exist. When I saw the request I planned to write for both but then I got ever so very carried away with it, I hope that's ok :'3 Also sorry for the shitty ending lol think I could've done better with that one.

Warnings: Angst, I don't know what warnings to add for angst so if you find anything please let me know :'3

Guns N’ Roses had just come back from tour, just in time for yours and Duff’s anniversary. It had been a few days since they got back and he was exhausted, sleeping in late, staying out even later. When the date of your anniversary finally hit you reminded him over and over again up until he left to not be late.

It hurt when he didn’t come home.

You made his favourite meal, got him gifts and put on your favourite outfit to impress him. You expected him home before food was ready but he was nowhere to be found even after you finished setting the table. You decided to do what you could to keep the food warm and wait for him.

11:00 pm rolled around and still no sign of Duff. You told yourself he just lost track of time, you didn’t need to eat together anyway since you ate together every other night as well. You got yourself a plate and ate alone, getting everything else in the fridge for leftovers.

12:00 pm and still no Duff. You decided to just cut your losses and go to bed. You got into something more comfortable for sleep and crawled into bed.

It wasn’t long before you felt tears trickling down your cheeks and you started softly crying into your pillow.

Duff came home much later. He was ready to crash, his body hurt and all he wanted was to crawl into bed with you, but first he needed food so he went to the kitchen and dug around a bit.

In the fridge were his favourite things, all freshly made. Well, freshly made-ish. They’d been in the fridge a while, still good for eating though. He got himself a plate and he could swear that first bite sent him to heaven.

He was eating at the kitchen table and noticed some bags in the corner so he went to investigate. He found a jacket he’d been wanting, shirts and records of his favourite bands, even a new watch he’d seen a while back and mentioned he’d liked. He stared at all of it in confusion, why’d it all suddenly appear? Why was it here?

He thought about it good and hard and finally landed on the reasoning. He forgot your fucking anniversary.

Duff ran into your bedroom to see if you were still awake and of course you weren’t. He kneeled beside you on the floor, pushing your hair out of your eyes to reveal dried tear streaks from puffy, red eyes. “Fuck.” He sighed. He kissed your forehead but you pulled away from his touch. He had to mentally beat himself up after that one.

He saw that the apartment was a bit of a mess and wanted to clean it up but he was just so tired. He made the decision to wait until tomorrow and then he’d get up and do whatever he could to make it up to you.

Duff crawled into bed, tossing and turning a bit. He reached out for you to pull you in so he could hold you but you seemed like you would wake up so he stopped, not wanting to disturb you.

The next morning Duff woke up slowly, groggily rolling over to check the time. The clock on the bedside table read ‘1:34 pm’ and he was filled with panic, suddenly wide awake. He sat up and looked to see your side of the bed empty.

He got out of bed to go look for you. The apartment was suddenly spotless and you were sitting on the couch, peacefully folding laundry while the radio was going. He sat beside you and took the shirt you were folding from you. “Let me do it.”

You stared at him for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do laundry.” You said, watching his chopping folding skills. “Let alone offer to do it.” Duff stared at the shirt in his hands, disappointed in his own skills, or rather lack thereof. “And now I see why.” You reached for the shirt back but he refused, holding it away from you.

“No! No, I-I’ll get it.” He unfolded the shirt so he could try again. You went to grab another piece of clothing to fold but he stopped you. “I can do it just-just go do something else.” You were confused at his sudden behaviour but decided not to question it. You went to the kitchen to clean some dishes instead.

Duff stood up when he heard the water running and went over to you. “What are you doing?” He asked as he took the plate from you.

“The dishes?” You answered, starting to get a little frustrated with what he was doing.

“No, just do something fun.” He said and set the dish down and turned the water off.

“Something fun?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah! Just, like, I don’t know, go read! Watch TV, hell, take my card and go-go shopping, buy whatever you want!” He urged, just wanted to do something for you.

“Something fun?” You repeated, your sadness from the night before and frustration now boiling together. “Something fun I wanted to do was have a nice night with my boyfriend on our fucking anniversary, but I guess we don’t always get what we want, right?” You glared at him for a moment before taking the plate back and starting the water again.

Duff paused and reached for the plate again. “I’m sorry, really, I completely forgot.” He started washing the plate for you and you tried to grab it back.

“Just forget it, alright? It’s fine.” You mumbled and went back to washing it. Duff grabbed it back again.

“Don’t say it’s fine when it’s not.” You grabbed the plate again but Duff didn’t let go. “Let me take care of things today, alright?”

“Duff, I can do things myself.” You stated.

“I know you can because you always do and I’m trying to be nice so please just let me do it!” He pulled on the plate and it slipped out of both your hands, shattering on the floor at your feet. Duff froze, looking between the broken glass and your hurt expression. “I-I’ll clean it up.” Duff said and went to get a broom.

He returned to find you on your knees picking up the little pieces of porcelain. He dropped the broom and rushed over to you, taking your hands away from the broken shards. “What the hell are you doing?! You can’t use your... hands...” He realised what plate it was that broke. A piece of your parents china from their wedding.

Instinctively he went to hold you. “Fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, pushing him away.

“We can fix it, I promise.” He picked up two pieces and tried putting them together like a puzzle.

“Duff, just stop!” You yelled. He put the pieces down and looked at your face, seeing tears starting to leave your eyes again. He knew if he went to hug you you’d push him away again. He just didn’t know what to do.

So, he got up and went back to the living room, leaving you to cry alone in the kitchen while you pick up the pieces. He knew the only reason the plate needed to be cleaned in the first place was because you used it for what was supposed to be a special occasion, your anniversary.

He tried folding the laundry again, he sucked at it but it didn’t have to be good so long as he could get it done and put away. Anything to help you, even in a small way. He listened to your soft sobs from the kitchen, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

He brought the clothes to the bedroom and put everything away where he thought it was supposed to go. He turned around and saw the bed wasn’t made so he started on that next. Afterwards he went back to the kitchen, thinking you’d still be picking up the pieces. Instead you were hiding in the corner, knees pulled up to your chest as you cried.

He didn’t care if you tried pushing him away, he’d never seen you so broken, you could have a gun to his head and he’d still try to get to you in this state.

He pulled you onto his lap and held you close, kissing all over your face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” At this point you didn’t have the energy to push away from him so you just accepted it.

“I-I c-can’t fix it.” Your voice was weak and shaky as you spoke. Duff held you tighter to him.

“It’s ok, just gotta give it a minute.” He whispered. “I’ll help you, alright?” You shook your head, which hurt Duff but he wouldn’t tell you that, you didn’t need to hear that right now. “We could bring it to a professional or something.”

“A professional plate fixer?” You asked. Duff wasn’t sure if you were joking or not.

“I mean, I’m sure we could find someone.” He tried wiping your tears and you stood up. Your legs were shaky under you and Duff went to hold onto you “Where’re you going?”

“Bed.” You muttered. “I just- I want to go to bed.”

“Here, let me-” Duff tried to pick you up but you stopped him.

“No, just- stop.” He did as you asked and let you walk away to the bedroom, watching the door closed behind you.

Duff paused for a moment, trying to think of how he could possibly fix this. He started picking up the pieces of the plate and put them in a plastic container before heading on his journey to find someone to fix it.

He looked around for ages, it was getting dark and he was running out of options when he saw a china shop. He figured if they couldn’t fix it they could at least find him a replica or something.

“Hi, sorry, are you still open?” He asked as he entered the shop. Inside was a Japanese man and his daughter.

“We’re about to close.” The daughter said. Duff let out a heavy breath and placed the container on the counter.

“Can you find me a replica of this? Please?” He asked. The man opened the container and looked at the pieces for a moment before shaking his head. He said something in Japanese, of course Duff couldn’t understand so he looked to the daughter for a translation.

“There isn’t a replica but he said he can fix it.” Duff let out a sigh of relief at that.

“Even better, um, how do you do it?” He asked the man to be respectful even though he knew he wouldn’t understand the answer.

“Kintsugi, it’s a Japanese artform to fix pottery and such.” The daughter explains in a simplified way. Duff nods in understanding and thanks them both before heading back to your shared apartment, hoping he did a good thing.

He made one last stop on his way back home to get your favourite snacks from a convenient store. It’s not much but he wanted to do something, he’d bring you shopping tomorrow and get you more.

“I’m back!” He called as he stepped into the apartment. He carried the bag of snacks into the bedroom where he assumed you still were. Sure enough you were there, under the covers. He went to check if you were sleeping since he thought it was a little early for bed.

“Hey, darling, I got you snacks.” He kneeled down beside you, just as he’d done the night before. There was no response. “I’ll just leave them here for you, alright?” He whispered with a sad, tired smile. He stood up and left but not before giving you a kiss on the forehead. “I love you.” He muttered before closing the door behind him.

He made a makeshift bed for himself on the couch, a thin blanket that didn’t reach his feet, it barely reached his knees, and a small, flimsy throw pillow under his head for some form of comfort.

He managed to fall asleep not long after, only to have a dream of you walking out on him. He awoke in a cold sweat and ran into the bedroom to find you still asleep. He thought about crawling in with you before realising that you could just as easily leave if he was there with you than if he wasn’t.

In front of the door was his solution. He brought over his pillow and blanket and got uncomfortable laying there, now if you wanted to leave you’d have to move him.

You woke up and found the bag of snacks he’d gotten for you, all your favourites of course. You got out of bed to find him crashed on the floor. Thinking he’d overdosed or something you ran over to him and started shaking him awake.

“What, what is it?” He grumbled, slowly sitting up.

“Jesus Christ.” You sighed and hugged him. “I thought you fucking died!” Duff paused a moment before processing it and hugging you back.

“No, I’m fine.” He mumbled, moving his face into the crook of your neck. “You would’ve come to me like that if I died?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

“Fucking idiot, of course I would!”

“Even after everything, you still love me..?” He asked in a much softer tone. You pulled away for a moment.

“First of all, me seeing if you were alive had nothing to do with love.” You stated and pulled him back into a hug. “And of course I still love you, but I can love you and be pissed at you at the same time.” He chuckled at that.

“I found a place to fix your plate, by the way.” He said.

“Is that where you went last night?” He nodded and explained the whole thing to you.

“I was thinking we could hang out today, go shopping and get you some late anniversary presents?” He offered, he was taking you whether you wanted to or not but he wanted it to seem like it was your decision. You nodded and went to get ready.

[nanato04]

Here’s a random brain vomit at did at sometime around uhhhh 2 a.m.?

Should i continue this?

I even came up with a title lol

The Secret admirer

Your attraction towards your captain was abnormal.

No. It couldn’t be classified as a crush, it was something far more than that. You were obsessed with your captain to the point where you would boil of jealousy whenever he playfully flirted with random women on the streets.

You loved everything about him. His laugh, his face, his scars, everything. How he wears that one loose white shirt not bothering to cover up his chiseled chest. How his lips get so wet when he downs a mug of beer. How his hand grips anything with such force that you wanted you to be that very thing. How he sticks out his big tongue when he makes fun of someone. You had memorized his smell so perfectly that you would recognize him with ease even if he is mixed among a 1000 men. You loved watching him, every single detail about him drives you crazy.

Oh but you didn’t let anyone know about your feelings towards the red-haired emperor. You would keep your feelings to yourself and admire him from afar. You had already made up your mind that he would reject you or even kick you out of the crew. Yeah you didn’t want to take that risk whatsoever.

One day, you and your crew stopped by a vacant island and were enjoying the rest time. And out of nowhere a bunch of really strong pirates tried messing with your crew. Your captain was completely chill about it and didn’t heed their disrespect. You were ticked off by their mere existence but when you saw that your captain wasn’t phased by their bullshit you decided to do nothing. While all of you thought they would just bark and walk away eventually, they crossed the line by beating up one of your crew members. He was new, innocent and had a long way to go for getting stronger. Your head was washed by anger and you attempted to rush towards those hooligans like a fucking bull, but Shanks had blocked your path by raising his hand in front of you. Your chest collided with his large arm and he looked at you with a gentle smile and said,

“I got this.”

You saw him deal with those pirates in less than 5 minutes. But seeing your captain in action for the first time had riled you up so badly that you lost it. That same night, you were taking a bath, and the thoughts of your captain were all over your head and you couldn’t help but touch yourself in the bathtub. Your nipples were hard from the cold air you thought that came from the ventilator window, but little did you know you forgot to lock the damn door of the bathroom.

Shanks intended to take a bath too but before he barged into the bathroom he saw steam coming out of the slight opening from the door. His entire crew were either gorging food in the dining hall or they passed out at random places of the ship. Except you, you were missing ever since the ship sailed and left the island. He realized it could only mean that you were inside the bathroom and common sense would make him walk away but… his pervert-self took over his brain and he wanted to get just one look at your naked body.

[capsensislagamoprh]

So, I was sitting here thinking about Victor and Yuuri's wedding, as you do, when it occurred to me. That damned stripper pole is gonna make an appearance. I know it is. I see it. In my mind. Dose Chris carry that thing around like he's a secret BO staff fighter and he will dance off to save the world? This boy is a bard. He's a sexy dance bard. Bet he can stomp in 6 inch heals.

Anyway, that's not the point.

The point is, Otabek will not be caught dead doing that. 1: flexibility is not his strong suit and he knows it. Let others have their fun He's just be in the background contemplating the physics of it. 2: That is something he will *never* be suckered into because he knows they take photos. Nope. Big Nope.

But what he will do, as requested, is DJ the dance floor for the after party. Which means Yuri will not get to dance with him. Which is sad. EXCEPT. My head did a thing.

See, Otabek would totally be that one completely responsible, fire putting out, fixes stuff by walking thrugh a room and just correcting it person every wedding has. Even if all he does is direct the right person where they need to go so they can put out said fire. Takes a team, but the observant notice where they need to be. (I have been to so many weddings and I am telling you there is always ONE person who makes it all better by existing and OnE pErSoN who fucks it by by breathing.)

And like, I got so many head cannons about this. See, he wears a cravat, proper, for his competitions. Guess who's being tasked (along with Chris) to deal with people who cannot tie ties. Basic will not do. We're talking Fancy Tied Ties. FANCY. Yes, both Chris and Otabek can do these to perfection.

Guess who has to stop Yuri from climbing a wall when he's stressed because Yuuri is stressed and that makes Victor want to go comfort him, but he can't because he has to get ready for the wedding himself, and Yuri is supposed to stop Victor but Victor listens to no man save Yuuri and that's a mess he's tried to explain but no one seems to get but Otabek.

Guess who has to braid Yuri's hair to calm him down. Then has to tell Yuuri's mom - who is doing something else important at the time - what's up so it can be dealt with. Then has to deal with helping Yuri find where he threw his shoes in a rage.

Guess who has to go pick up the classic car they left to get detailed the day before instead of three days prior like he suggested and it may not be here on time because the delivery driver for it can't get anyone to drive him back, so he has to go and get it to the sight on time for when they 'go away' on the honey moon drive which is actually just a drive around the island so the pack of feral ice skaters can reset the scene for the after party. This doubles as having to pick up the wedding cake, and triples as getting Yuri out of there for a little bit so he can chill under the guise of holding the cake steady so it wont be ruined.

Guess who holds the ladders when they hang up flower decor because someone forgot they cannot en pointe to breach that last three inch gap between them and the hook for the flower arrangement. Seriously, you're gonna hurt yourself.

Guess who just sort of lugs boxes where they need to go with out a problem, and in general dose the dirty work quietly with everyone else, letting them set up - the fun part - while he considers this a light cardio day. Still shows up fresh and looking good, because of course he does.

And then he DJs and dose killer because you know he will, and everyone's having fun. All worth it.

But Yuri doesn't get to dance with him, and that's bothering Yuri, so Yuri hangs out with Otabek as he cleans up his set. Everyone else has decided to tear things down the next day. Not him. This shits expensive and he's not going to risk it.

And because Yuri pouts about it, Otabek sighs, grabs his hand, and with no one around just twirls Yuri's ballet doing ass about that floor in ways he's never danced before. Because while Otabek is not cut out for ballet, he dose dance. Far more varieties than Yuri. Lifts, spins, dips, twists. It's fast, and energetic, stuff to make Rodgers and Hammerstein drool. Then he just leaves Yuri drop jawed as he just walks back to his kit and finishes packing it up.

Yuri jumps on his back complaining all the way back to the place they are staying as he clings there like a particularly angelic daemon of a backpack about how dare Otabek hold out on him like that, and dose he think he can translate that to ice so Yuri can use it to kick JJs ass because he has to kick JJs ass, and also because that was so cool.

Otabek just shoulders his kit and says, "Maybe," but smiles just that little bit, until the lights show they are in range of people, his mask slipping back in place as he takes a sleepy Yuri to his room, dropping off his kit, and going to sit outside in the cool island air as an exhausted blond falls asleep still clinging to his back until he slides off from tired.

Otabek catches him. He always will. After a bit he takes him inside, and the rest of the party goes on... oh look. Chris did get out the stripper pole. Shaking his head, he continues to take care of Yuri before he wakes up from the tantalizing sent of possible blackmail pictures in the making. Because he would.

A sleep derived Yuri is a grumpy Yuri, and a grumpy Yuri just wont do.

[autisticlancemcclain]

prev chapter

-- -- --

There is, honest to God, a coathanger butler and a duster French maid.

“Well, that confirms it,” Lance says, clapping his hands together. “I fell off my horse on the way here and I’ve gone insane.”

“I think you’re just smart, kiddo,” Shiro says, amused. “Perceptive.” He has yet to stop his tour, hopping along rather quickly as Lance follows. 

Lance opens his mouth to deny that particular claim – Lance is many things and smart is sure as shit not one of them – but there’s a bellowing shout that interrupts him before he can. 

“Ta-kashi!”

Shiro-the-candelabra startles, then goes pale, which is a hilarious thing to witness in a face of wax. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses. He makes an effort to hop behind a random sidetable placed against one of the farther walls of the massive corridor, but he’s not nearly fast enough. Rapid, angry clanking sounds precede the appearance of an ornately carved grandfather clock, the face – literally and figuratively, man this castle is fucking weird – twisted in a heavy scowl. 

“Takashi,” the clock hisses again. “What part of ‘united front' is hard for you to understand?”

Caught completely red-handed, Shiro straightens himself up and attempts to look dignified. “You were busy with Keith! What was I supposed to do, let this one wander around? I was –”

“You were supposed to wait for me, Takashi! Last time –”

It would probably be prudent for Lance to continue listening, as any information he learns is for the better. But as soon as Shiro says Keith’s name, Lance’s ears check out, the world in front of him goes blurry, and he starts to feel like he’s deep underwater. 

It hits him, all at once and intensely, that this is really happening. He is, sometime in the frighteningly near future, going to meet his future husband. His future husband who is known across the country to be one of the most vile men in temper ever to exist, who is impossible to love. His future husband who has money, money that Lance can send back to his family that can never manage to get food on the table for every mouth on every day of the week. The future husband who Lance cannot leave, unlike the people before him, because if he does then the family farm will sell and everyone will be homeless and it will lie on his shoulders. 

If he fails, his family will never look at him again, the shame will be so strong. The kids – they’ll be uprooted if they have to sell the farm and move away. He can’t do that to them. And yes, his family’s betrayal still aches like a gaping wound in his chest (they didn’t want to keep him Mamà didn’t want to keep him only three wanted to keep him and he doesn’t know who they sent him away the town sent him away his family sent him away everyone he’s ever known decided they were better off without him), but he doesn’t – he can’t let their saving grace slip between his fingers. If he fails then his greatest fears are confirmed – he is the failure that he’s always known he is.

But If he succeeds, he will be locked for life in an enchanted castle that feels as if it doubles as a tomb. 

Suddenly Lance is sick to his stomach. 

“–ance? Lance? You okay, kiddo?”

Lance shakes himself from his thoughts, eyes focusing on the concerned faces in front of him. He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders and plastering a smile on his face. 

He will not fail. He will not. It is the lesser of two evils, to succeed, so he must. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just remembered something, is all. I meant to look for something to feed my horse when I came in here, there’s no hay in the stable, but I forgot with all the –” he glances at the clock and candelabra, wondering how to phrase the clusterfuck that is now my life tripped me up, my bad delicately – “the… hubbub.”

Hubbub. 

Alrighty. That’s the word he’s going with. That’s fine. He’s totally cool with suddenly becoming a bitter senior citizen loudly complaining about the youths. All is well.

Despite his strangeness, the two people (??) in front of him visibly soften. 

“Sorry, dear,” the clock says. He clanks forward and extends one of his arms – shiny, carved gold decals of the sides of a grandfather clock – to shake. Lance does. “My name is Adam. I imagine you must be exhausted. Would you like to see your room?

That sounds excellent. Lance sags at the suggestion, shoulders slumping forward and sigh escaping his lungs without his position. His own room in the castle…what will that look like? He’s always shared a bed with someone, back home. And sometimes he is kicked and sometimes people snore and sometimes people squiggle around and hog blankets and talk in their sleep. Sometimes people even pick their toes, completely unconscious, and refuse to believe him when he complains about it in the morning. Such is the life of a large family in a small house. 

Lance will have a bed to his own, now. A room, even! It’s almost unfeasible. He’s expecting something huge; giant windows making up a whole wall at least to let the sun it, impossibly high ceilings, a bed as big as his house once was, with a canopy over the sides of it. As plush as goose down and soft as Kaltenecker’s – his favourite of their family’s cows – fur. Cream walls, maybe, prime for him to paint. 

Paint! He’s sure he’ll have paint here. The richest of colours, even, and paintbrushes he doesn’t have to make from kinky horse hair. And he’s sure he’ll have time, here, outside of whatever chores he’s expected to do, to ride Blue around the grounds. Maybe, for once in his life, he can enjoy his day outside of fleeting moments with the animals, or Veronica, or the twins. Maybe there will be more time outside of fleeting minutes when he watches the sun rise. Maybe he will have freedom here, to explore what he likes, and in luxury, no less. 

Wait. 

His brow furrows. Freedom…he won’t be free. He may be surrounded by more opulence than he ever expected to see in three lifetimes, but freedom is still a luxury he can’t afford.

“What about Ke –” he stumbles over the name – “the Prince?”

Shiro and Adam exchange the least subtle look Lance has ever seen on a human, let alone a grandfather clock and a candelabra. It would be funny if it weren’t so troubling. 

“What about him?” Shiro says carefully. 

Lance blinks at him. “Is his royal highness too busy to meet the guy he’s literally about to marry, or…?”

“We just figured you would prefer to settle yourself, first.” Adam says it quickly, practiced, obvious; confirming Lance’s suspicions. 

There is something afoot. 

“I’m pretty settled, actually. All good in the hood. Checked off most of the list, tick tick tick. I just need to meet Prince Temper-tantrum.”

Both royal attendants laugh nervously. 

“Ah, we’ll get there,” Shiro assures. He hops forward, pointing his candle to the hallway, indicating that Lance should follow him. “We have time, no? It’s late. Dinner will be ready soon. No need.”

He and Adam are very persistent, all but shoving Lance out of the front entrance and to a massive staircase. One of them must have sent the word of Lance’s arrival, because one of the branched-off hallways of the staircase – a wing? Is that what it’s called? Why must rich people label stupid things – is illuminated, clearing the path Lance is meant to take to his new room. The other is as dark as the rest of the castle, cold and isolating, reeking of angst and cowardice and a smidge of superiority, too, because reputation or not, what kind of jackass doesn’t at least introduce themselves to their future husband?

Suddenly, it all kind of boils over. Lance roots himself in the middle of some grand marble hallway and, ignoring Shiro and Adam’s frantic pleading, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts: “Hey, Prince of Darkness! Is it too beneath you to say hello to your future husband, you beastly man?”

His voice echoes throughout the castle, shout bouncing off the carved stone walls and getting louder, somehow. Lance stands, glaring at the dark hallway, fists clenched at his sides, fury still lighting up his veins. But then a minute passes, and another, without so much as a peep of movement, and rage starts to trickle out of his body in favour of something like regret. 

He has one job, here. He is to make nice and play the silent husband so he can get funds back to his family, and no one goes hungry. He is supposed to avoid Prince Keith at any and all possible moments, keeping his head down and living his life as separately and as well as he can given the circumstances. And Adam and Shiro were perfectly happy to let him do so, too, guiding him to his room before he even had to breathe in Prince Keith’s direction. 

Him and his big fucking mouth. Clearly, there is more than one person in this castle with a temper. 

He turns to the candle and the clock. “Sorry,” he mutters, averting his eyes. Hopefully they don’t call this whole thing off. He doesn’t think they will – from what Shiro implied, they seem kind of desperate – but still. He shouldn’t push his luck. 

When Shiro and Adam don’t respond, he looks up, expecting to find them disappointed, but instead finding them not looking at him at all. He frowns, taking in the way their faces have dropped, the way they’ve both gone pale. As pale as bloodless things can be, anyway. He follows their line of sight, shifting his body to face the farthest end of the dark corridor, and squints, trying to make out what they’re so white about. It takes him a moment to pick it out, but eventually he sees it, almost glowing in the darkness – a pair of large, yellow eyes. And…

Teeth?

Lance blinks. He rubs his eyes. He looks again. 

Where the mouth would be, under the eyes, are massive, fang-like teeth, glowing white in the dark shadows. They are not human. They are not even animal. Lance is not sure what they resemble, aside from monstrous. A chill runs down his spine. 

Slowly, silently, the way a wolf might stalk towards prey it knows it has trapped, the shrouded face comes closer, slinking in the shadows. Lance follows it, head tilting higher and higher as he begins to realise how tall this face sits on a still-invisible body; how large this…thing, animal or man, truly is. Closer and closer it steps, until Lance can hear its breaths, until Lance can feel the heat from its body from where it stands, in the last stretch of the shadows. 

Lance swallows. 

“Who are you?” he asks. His voice is surprisingly steady, although his hands tremble. 

Finally, the figure steps out into the light. Dark purple fur is all Lance can see; covering the figure in thick, uneven swaths; large brow drawn tight over his slitted yellow eyes, mouth twisted in a snarl, fangs pushing out from his lips, clawed hands clenched in fists, talons clinking on the floor as he steps closer. Ornate clothing covers his body, heavy red cloak draped over his shoulders, materials Lance can recognise as sturdy and well-dyed and rich. 

The figure bends low, close to Lance’s face. “I am as you say, dear future husband.”

“You’re a – an actual –” Lance stammers.

Prince Keith growls, low in his throat. 

“A beast.”

———

next chapter

[babbymochiiii]

ON MY YOUTH: TEN LEE

↪︎pairing: idol! ten x ngs! reader ft. xiaojun

↪︎genre: angst

↪︎warnings: crying, conflicted feelings, minor yelling, confronting on ten's bs, break up, more crying, just angst after more angst

↪︎synopsis: you’ve noticed ten has been weird ever since his recent comeback, and with one text message it confirmed everything. But you weren’t going to let him do that to you through the phone so you confront him in person.

↪︎word count: 1.9k words

link to part 2 🧡

✨note: this fic is very much inspired by On My Youth by WayV…this song put me through all sorts of stages when I heard the English ver. 😭 idk about y’all but I felt like I was going through some sort of emotional breakdown 💀 but it inspire this fic so we gucci :P anyways, enjoy! 🧡

divider credit @plutism 🖤

We should stop seeing each other.  

It was already a shitty day as it was due to work going south with the boss yelling at everyone, including you, and it was pouring rain as you walked home as you forgot completely about the umbrella waiting at the front door.  

But this...this takes everything by the win.  

You of course felt pure rage at the fact this was the way he decided to end things with you, coping the fuck out, but you weren’t about to be disrespected like this especially when you knew that this was going to happen. Ever since he left to do some small concerts and with his most recent comeback, he’s been distant and acting like you didn’t exist at all. You had your suspicions and mentally prepared yourself for the day but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt you still.  

You looked at the time on your phone and knew that you would find him in the practice room here and his members had reserved at this time. So, that’s where you find your feet taking you.  

Once you reached the floor where you knew the majority of the big practice rooms were at, you walked down the hall straining your ears as much as you could so you could hear WayV’s music against the other SM artists. As you walked a little further down, you could hear WayV’s newest song blasting through the speakers. You picked up your pace slightly until you were at front of the practice room door. As you were in front of the door, you tried to control the heavy breathing as you took hold of the door handle. With one last breath, you opened the door. 

Inside, you met with the members of WayV and staff members recording one of their dance practice videos.  Through the reflection of the mirror, you could see Ten in the middle of the formation dancing passionately as he always has. You feel mesmerized by the way he dances so fluidly and with such precision. It was one of many things you fell in love with Ten.  

Ten caught your gaze in the mirror which causes him to stumble in one of the moves and for Xiaojun to bump into him.  

“Ten? You okay?” Xiaojun asked as he looked towards Ten, who looked like he’s seen a ghost. Xiaojun followed his gaze and saw your trembling form standing by the doorway. “Oh.” He said softly.  

At this moment, all the staff members and WayV looked between you and Ten. The couple of staff members that had the cameras rolling stopped recording and lowered the camera.  

“Can we talk?” You shakingly asked while maintaining eye contact with Ten through the mirror. Cursing to yourself internally for not holding onto whatever confidence you had left.  

“I guess.” Ten said lowly with a shrug.  

“Why don’t we all take a break and give them space?” WayV’s manager said with a gently clap of his hands as he gave everyone a straight smile. He eyed the two of you as everyone else walked out of the room before he followed them, closing the door behind them. 

“What are you doing here?” Ten asks with a sigh as he looks anywhere else but directly towards you.  

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” You almost practically whine as you started to feel all the emotions you were suppressing rise up to the surface, considering you never knew how to hide how you felt from Ten.  

“Look, I don’t have the time to be playing your guessing game here.” Ten said with an eye roll as he finally looked towards you.  

You bit down on your bottom lip to the point where you almost drew blood. You dug into your bag for your phone and pulled up the text message he sent you a couple of hours ago, that you only saw on the way out from work.  

“Oh, that.” Ten said with a flat tone.  

A scoff leaves your lips as you brought your hand down and tightly gripped at your phone. “Yes that." you mimicked as you tried to control your breathing.  

“So, what about it then?”  

You stared at Ten and really tried to understand what was happening here. How can he be acting like this? After everything… “‘What about it then?’ Ten are you that fucking dense?” You asked as you looked at him with a frown on your face.  

“I said what I said okay.” Ten says as he turns around and grabs his water bottle from the floor.  

“Ten, really? Like are you really going to be like this?” You questioned as you felt your eyebrows crease close together.  

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about.” he said with a careless shrug as he took a swing of his water bottle.  

“For God’s sake Ten! Talk to me!” You raised your voice as you started to walk on a thin line of patience with him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Ten looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to speak.  

You stared at him with watery eyes as you felt all the bewilderment fall on top of your shoulders. You couldn’t understand why this has to happen now, not after everything you’ve been through with him. The more you look at Ten the more you get truly lost at who this person is in front of you.  

“Why?”  

Ten stared at you for another beat before he looked down at his feet with a sigh.  “Because it’s not fair.” He said as he continued to stare at his feet like it's the most interesting thing in the world.  

“Not fair?” you questioned back to him as you started to feel something within you turn in anger. As if you needed something more to add to the already fire induced anger inside of you.  

“I just don’t find it fair that I basically get to live a life while you stay home and wait for me.” Ten said without missing a beat and looked at you with a straight face.  

It was quite a blow... you admit, you weren’t expecting that to be his answer, but the pure anger and stressed feelings consumed your whole body, leaving you to feel overall exhausted at this point.  

“Ten—” you sighed out as you closed your eyes tightly trying to understand everything that’s happening right now. “— you know very well that I was content like that. I was happy to wait for you to come home and spend time with you...why are you making this an issue now?”   

“It just hurts my pride.” He says with a shrug. 

“Your pride? Ten please, that’s such a fucking cop out.” You told you as you truly started to feel the weight of everything fall on your shoulder as you knew that this was it...truly the end of it all.  

Silence wrapped around the two of you in the most gut-wrenching tension as you both just looked at one another. Each waiting to see what the other will say.  

With a defeated sigh, you looked down at your feet with your eyes closed trying your hardest to not let the threatening tears escape. You weren’t going to let him do this to you.  

“Two years...” You told him softly as you looked up and looked at him with a small smile and with tears pooling in your eyes. “Two years I have been so happy with you. We were happy. I love you so much that right now I wish I didn’t because it hurts Ten. It hurts too much.” you said with a dry chuckle as you started to feel your throat tightening and forming a lump in your throat as you started to feel everything wanting to discompose from within you.  

“I gave you so much Ten. So much. But you used me — used me till the last drop. I’m burnt out at this point.” you said as one tear fell out of your eye and created a wet trail down your cheek.  

Ten stared at you with slightly wide eyes, not truly believing that this is happening right now. Yes, he wanted to end things...but he didn’t know you’ve been feeling like this. Genuinely, he thought it would be how it has been lately. He would do something that would upset you, and you forgive him but that isn’t happening this time around. Ten felt himself start to panic internally as he looked at you slowly lose your composure in front of him.  

“No amount of sorrys is going to fix what you just broke Ten. None of your lies are going to sugar coat this and make me “forget” everything you have done to me for the past months Ten...none of it. You fed me so much bullshit lately and you completely lost me.” you said with a sad laugh. “Knowing you, you’re probably gonna say something along the line that we’re too young and that you want to focus on your career.” you said as you watched Ten’s reaction.  

You saw the way Ten sucked in a breath and how his cheeks turned a light pink as he continued to look at you with wide eyes.  

“I knew it. So much bullshit Ten.” you said as you felt more tears falling down your face. “This is where we officially end things, yeah.” you softly said as you tried to hold in the rest of the tears as you turned around, starting to make your way to the dance practice room.  

“Wait—” 

“No Ten. This is what you wanted, right? I’m just making this easier for you, so you don’t have to keep lying to me.” you said with one last glance towards Ten’s figure. You swear you can see a tear fall down his face but you turned your face away quickly so you wouldn’t lose what’s left of your composure.  

“Goodbye Ten.” you gave your final goodbye to Ten before you turned the doorknob and walked out of the room with tiny pieces of what used to be your heart inside of your chest.  

Months have passed since that day you confronted and ended things with Ten.  

You kept some small tabs on him here and there whenever fans would post about WAYV and their group or solo activities. This time though, you’ve noticed that they have come out with a new English version of one of their songs in their latest album.  

Curious, you clicked the link that took you to YouTube, and started to play out the video for the song. Hearing the song for the first time and listening to the lyrics brought back those painful memories as you could hear the hurt in Ten’s voice as he sang his parts.  

You looked at the song title as tears landed on your phone screen. 

On My Youth... 

A sad, watery smile formed on your face as you continued to listen to the song, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to miss him. You know you shouldn’t, but it was a two-year relationship that Ten decided to throw out with one stupid text.  

As the song came to an end, you felt your chest rake with heavy breathing as you continued to quietly sob into your hands. While you used the sleeves of your sweater to clean the tears off of your face, there was a knock at the door.  

Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door.  

You stood at the other end of the door still with your chest rising and falling rapidly. Just as you reached for the doorknob, Ten’s voice was heard on the other side.  

“Can we talk?”

Thank you for reading!!! 🖤 hopefully you guys enjoyed this story! I haven’t written angst in a good while and it took me awhile to get a crack in this story ✋🏼💀

Should I make a part 2? 🧐 lemme know in the comments/in my ask what you think! Should we see y/n and ten talk to one another or just leave it as is?? I’m genuinely curious to see what you guys think! 🖤✨

With much much love from me to you, mochi 🕷️

[cringelordofchaos]

random craig tucker headcanons

has level 1 low support needs autism

gay (not a hc bt whaever.)

special interest is star trek and space in general

watching red racer every day is a routine he mustn't under almost any imaginable circumstance break

got some peruvian ancestry (from which parent's side? heck if i know) + knows a bittt of spanish

his family mostly goes without saying a word to each other during meals

when hes waiting outside the counselor's office for flipping off someone again he sits and either thinks about space or looks at images of stripe on his phone to ease any tension that migth be there

barely ever smiles except when stripe, space or tweek exist

closer to thomas than to laura

his parents taught him everythin ghe knows <33 (emotional constipation and invlulnerability but breaking the ice every one in a while)

sometimes just randomly infodumps about random facts about star strek or space or guinea pigs at the most random of times (actually canon as briefly shown in TFBW)

likes to learn / memorize random facts abt red racer, space, star trek or guinea pigs

random fact i almost mispelled guinea pigs every single time wtmf is wrong with me

for birthdays he mostly gets space-themed stuff cuz everyone knows he loves it

if hes overwhelmed, instead of having a meltdown he'll usually have a shutdown instead

sometimes rants to stripe abt stuff like relationship drama w tweek lmao

he actually liked the clothes he wore during the metrosexual fad, (evident by keeping them in his closet as shown in TFBW)

most emotion he shows is anger/being pissed off

"sooooooo happy" is actually a stim of his and it feels satisfying for him to say it every time hes sooo happy

even when hes sooo happy the most emotion he'll show is a faint smile

doesn't really smile in any pictures unless hes forced to

flipping people off for him is kinda like pushing people away and making them pissed off at him so he wouldnt need to care abt what they think of him and that way he sorta protects himself (mostly saying this bc of one of his attacks in tfbw)(i swear im sane)

hes sometimes overwhelmed from his relationship w tweek but he fucking sucks at communicating (his kryptonite in TFBW is literally communication) he didnt communicate that to tweek just yet (this is mostly shown in buddha box)(NOT SAYING CRAIG DOESNT CARE ABOUT TWEEK HE LOVES HIM HES JUST OVERWHELMED SOMETIMES FROM FEELING LIKE HES COMPLETELY RESPONIBLE FOR HIM ANDN OIEAHDKKSH leave him alone) i like to imagine tweek and craig resolve this at one point cuz im pretty sure they get married in the future and they always push through their struggles together and they rly need each other so .

u can point to a star n hell name it

has space themed pajamas

(StOLEN HC IdK FroM whO) has those glow in the dark stars in his room

i googled it sometime ago n apparently he has blue eyes ? idrc

his childhood dream was to become an astronaut (I FORGOT HOW TO SPELL IT I LITERALLY HAD TO GOOGLE IT I HATE MYSELF) but when he grew up he probably settled for something less extreme. idk what though

either got diagnosed w autism at age 10, in his teens, in his young adult years, or far afterwards, or never at all. when he was told by someone that he migth be autistic he didnt rly even bother to look it up or anything but if he did he would go like "idk i dont really think im autistic i dont think i do (x symtom) all that much" and tweeks like "You do that literally all the time !!!!". but yeah even if he gets diagnosed he doesnt rly end up taking any medication or specializzed therapy but he does gain a larger understanding of himself and how to handle things like shutdowns.)

really picky eater (cuz sensory issues)

hates wearing jeans or similiar uncomfy clothing so he wears exclusively sweatpants (again cuz of sensory issues)

his whole family is autistic actually ive decided so when mr mackey brings up the possibility of him being autistic laura and thomas deny it cuz all the symptoms he shows are what they do as well, andthyere obviously not autistic so neither can craig be.

sometimes he goes over to tweeks house completely unannounced and so does tweek (actuallycanon as shown in put it down)

0verwhelmed by the concept of emotions in general but his relationship w tweek forces him to confront that part of him he tries to avoid and forces him to open up a bit which is actually rly important

since tweek is on meth, he heavily lacks appetite and sometimes skips meals or just doesnt take care of himself enough. craig learns abt this (not the meth part cuz tweek doesnt know that eithrer) so he helps him eat enough food throughout the day so he doesnt fucken starve to death

replies to tweeks texts instantly (actually canon)

tolkiens best friend (canon according to the official south park wiki). clydes a closee second

clyde annoys the fuck out of him but in a friend teasing way and they both care abt each other obvu

i actually dont rly have hcs for him n tolkien sryyyy

jimmy makes the best remarks abt creek (canon)(in put it down he asks craig (when craig doesnt know why tweek isnt in school) "uh oh. trouble in paradise?" and in TFBW during a battle tweek tells craig smth like "ill be right with you super craig!" and jimmy says "OK, i guess illbe the third wheel." anyway live laugh jimmy)

extremely blunt pessimist (canon)

despite his reputation as a troublemaker hes actually a decently polite kid (minus the constant flipping off)

barely goes out the house or does anything exciting. nice n boring. just the way he likes it.

hates changes or sudden surprises or his routine being broken

on the verge of being diagnosed w oppositional defiance disorder

sometimes wears black nail polish (again cuz in tfbw its kinda implied he liked the metrosexual fad n black nail polish migth be a more neutral form of such self expression)(mostly self projecting here)

tumblr user

during one pride month thomas went all out and bought craig a shitton of pride themed merch that he mostly doesnt use

he loves loves lovess seeing tweeks smile !!!1!! hes like omfg finally hes getting a fucking break (tweeks life is a fucking mess)

appears unphased by some stuff even when hes really uncomfortab;le

sometimes sleeps without pillow ehn he deems it more comfortable

deals w some form of small anxiety, not to a disordered amount thogh

maybee has depression ?!? idk

dated a girl in the past cuz he thought he was supposed to, but he felt like "she was holding him back". overall he didnt give a fuck abt their breakup cuz he didnt really care that much abt the relationship and when others questioned him abt it he was confused and didnt know most ppl were heartbroken after a breakup. (sorry i love early craig being a gay mess in denial)

sometimes cartman calls him a pocoyo rip off and each time he feels the strongest urge to either decapitate or defenestrate him

before he n tweek got together he would joke to tolkien abt how he was gonna propose to him when they grew up so he could live off his wealth and not have to work for any money. (SORRY i got this concept from a webcomic (the four of them))

he n tweek send heart emojis to each other (implied)

mostlyyy dry texter (he doesnt mean to)

at one point he n tweek buy a pair of guinea pigs for stripe to befriend and craig names them castor and pollux

he n tweek get married in the future

mostly likes dry, tasteless and cold food (There r obviously exceptions thats why i said mostly)

says and intreprerts things more literally than most

still sarcastic at times

hates huge social events with too many people and noiises

used to blend in well and fit in w mob mentality but doesnt really care anymore

it wont let me write anymo

[calmlb]

Hi Essie!!! Hope you're doing well! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)❤️

So I had this idea for a sick!Dazai fic (that I'm honestly too tired to write dhehee), and who else is better to brainstorm it with than my fellow Dazai whump enthusiast? :D

Based on my own experience of being sick for the past week, I forgot how awful it can get. It sucks. You're feverish, your nose is either runny or super blocked, your throat hurts, you get headaches, you're lethargic 80% of the time, all that stuff. But what sucked the most for me was how hot my skin felt. Like, clothes were so uncomfortable to wear from the sweat, especially since it's still summer around here.

So imagine putting bandages into account as well?

Yep, awful.

So I present you with a scenario: Teen!Dazai in his office, has taken over paper duty (that Mori knows he isn't gonna complete anyway) because of his fever. He feels gross, to say the least. Flushed and hazy, a little nauseous and sleepy. But his skin- his skin is scorching, and there is no way for it to disperse that heat because it can't breathe. He endures it for as long as he can until he just can't.

In his haze, he scrambles to tear his bandages off, loosen his tie, and decides that he will lie on the cold floor shirtless. The air conditioner isn't enough. No one is there to stop him.

Until Chuuya barges in without knocking as usual (to discus the paperwork he also knows Dazai isn't going to finish) and stumbles onto the scene.

Dazai doesn't even acknowledge him, has already taken off the bandages around his eye and is halfway through tearing off the ones around his neck. His clothes are disheveled as he loosens them and looks like he's about to take them off.

Chuuya gapes for a solid second, before exclaiming with a blush-

"What the fuck?!"

He rushes over, trying not to look at Dazai's skin that's on display and stops him. He wraps him with Mori's oversized coat aggressively.

Dazai fights against him, exclaiming that he needs to lie on the floor. Chuuya doesn't get it, all that he knows is that Dazai is delirious, and even if he thinks it's a good idea to tear through his protective layer now, he'll definitely regret it later.

So Chuuya ties him with the coat and decides to take the paperwork to his place, along with a flailing Dazai on his shoulder.

I just wanna see Dazai giving Chuuya hell during treating him 😭 cuz even if cooling off is a good idea for a fever, not staying huddled in the warmth equates to chills and endless sneezes. Makes you feel even more awful. So it's gonna be a push and pull of Chuuya trying to warm Dazai up (in order to fight off the fever faster), and Dazai wanting to cool off (because he isn't used to being this warm and hates it), until they come up with a compromise somehow dgdhejndjd

Yeah, just a fun idea! :3 Feel free to expand on it hehe

PEA 😭 i saw this when i was having a Very Bad Day™️ & it immediately made it sm better tysm 🥺🩷🩷

UGH THE TENDER, FEVERISH SKIN UNDER THE BANDAGES ❤️‍🩹 where everything just feels like too much, i completely understand why Dazai (in his feverish delusion) would think removing the offending material would be the solution

Chuuya barging in and quickly going from 👁️👄👁️ to 😳🤬. i love that he goes into protective mode, thinking of how future Dazai will surely regret this course of action & putting measures in place to prevent that 🥺

Chuuya would wrap Dazai up like a sushi roll & carry him on his shoulder like a log back to his apartment, where he proceeds to lose the idgaf war & embrace his mother hen side (which he still denies exists)

meanwhile Dazai is kicking & fighting him every step of the way, acting more like a 5 year old than a mafia sub executive (he’s still only a kid sobs), even as he shivers with chills

until Chuuya manages to get a hand in his sweat soaked curls, gently carding through them. the coolness of his leather glove against Dazai’s overheated scalp makes Dazai go still… and then slump against the couch in a mixture of relief & exhaustion. Chuuya takes advantage of his compliance to make him agree to stop fighting him, & they spend the rest of the day resting on the couch, watching movies & playing video games (well. Chuuya plays. Dazai watches & points out all of Chuuya’s mistakes) 🩷🩷🩷

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Around If You Need Me

Part of the Beth McCarthy mini series

Omg Did She Call Him Baby?

Did he fuck it up again?

I know that she needs a friend

But I want to be more than that

He's her type, he's a ten

When he messages I bet

Unlike me he doesn't get left unread

“Hey! What ya doing tomorrow, I haven’t seen you in ages?” you asked as soon as Millie answered the phone. “Oh hey (y/n/n), I’m out at the moment, can I call you back later?” her reply full of distraction. “Of course, yeah.. that’s fine, speak soon!” There wasn’t a reply as the line abruptly hung off after that. Flopping back onto the bed disappointed, Millie never has time for you anymore and you’re starting to wonder why you keep trying. Going back to mindlessly scrolling TikTok and playing games on your phone while murder documentaries played out on the TV in front of you. You hadn’t left your bedroom in days and had taken the plunge to ask Millie for a coffee after not hearing from her in weeks. She was your best friend but you felt like you weren’t hers anymore. If she needed anything you’d drop everything just to be there for her but that was rarely reciprocated lately. You pretended to understand, she is an international footballer these days and you just have a boring 9-5 in an office, leaving you loads of spare time to miss her.

Drawing your eyes away from your phone and towards the clock you were shocked to see it was midnight, you’d been so focussed on your phone and waiting for a call back which never happened. Again. Feeling deflated you brushed your teeth and got ready for bed, even though you’ve been laying on it all weekend.

The next morning you still had zero notifications from Millie, you know she can be forgetful so decided to text her. After writing and deleting several messages before settling on “be good to catch up x”, pressing the send button before you changed your mind again. With a mouth full of sandwich on your lunch break you were starting to feel a bit forgotten by your best friend come ex. Oh yeah, you used to date but it was only for a month. She was experimenting and let’s just say that that experiment didn’t go the way you had hoped. It wasn’t an experiment for you, you’d known you liked women from an early age and Millie kinda took advantage of that. No sooner after she called it off she got with her now boyfriend who’s she’s been with for about six months. That’s when she started to distance herself from you. You used to hang out all the time but now your messages get left on read and when they are replied to, it’s always days.. sometimes weeks later and every time it’s - “sorry I forgot”. Fair enough, she’s a busy lady but you don’t just forget your best friend exists do you? Millie is everyone’s friend yet she was your only friend so you’d been clinging on to the threads of the friendship that was left, always over thinking if you were being naggy or possessive or wasting your time, should you just let her go?

Weeks passed and you’d still hadn’t heard from her, you’d started to come to terms with that fact you’ll never be as close as you once were. Every year she always messages on your birthday so when you received a 10 second phone call of “hey, can I come over?” you literally ran home from the restaurant where your family had taken you to celebrate.

Answering the door excitedly to see her face didn’t feel like you’d imagined as she immediately started ranting about what her boyfriend’s done wrong. She wasn’t there to wish you a happy birthday, she was there because she needed someone to moan to. Nevertheless, you made tea and listened to her for hours until she noticed the cards on the window sill. Picking one up to read it was addressed to you and quickly glancing at her watch to look at the date. “Oh my god, I completely forgot!” she gasped clunking her tea cup onto the table and scooping you into a hug. You knew in your head that a hug shouldn’t make up for forgetting your birthday, but it made your heart a little happier.

Millie cleared her schedule to spend the rest of the day with you, it felt nostalgic watching films and playing with the dogs, drinking tea in the garden and listening to her sharing all the gossip. That was until she received a text from her boyfriend apologising for his earlier actions and inviting her on a date. Running to your wardrobe and flying the doors open to look at the clothes you had hanging there she started to unhook the hangers, look at them for two seconds then chuck them onto the bed - making a huge mess you knew she wasn’t going to tidy. That was until she found a dress you’d been saving for a special occasion and before you could say ‘no’, she’d already stripped out of her trackies and slipped the slinky black number over her body.

“This is perfect!” she exclaimed admiring herself in the mirror. Sighing at how good she looked, you didn’t have the heart to tell her that dress was off limits, even though you knew you’d never see it again. “Can I borrow your make up? Can you straighten my hair?” shoving your straighteners into your hands without giving you a choice in the matter. Reluctantly helping her get ready because you just wanted to make her happy, the voice in the back of your head knew she was taking the piss but your heart just didn’t let you stop. Gazing at her through the mirror as she applied your make up to her face, she paid no attention to your wandering eyes as you longed for her to feel the same way you do. The way her hair falls in exactly the right place, the way the dress clings to her curves perfectly, the way the colour makes her skin glow. You knew what her lips taste like and you’d been searching for that flavour in every woman you’ve kissed since.

“Do you have shoes to go with this?” she asked, snapping you out of your daydream. “Mill, you outgrew my shoes in year 7, don’t you remember?” you said putting your size 5s next to her size 8s. “Hmm, that’s annoying… I’ll just have to make these work” slipping her £400 trainers back on to her feet before leaving your bedroom like a bomb site. “Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked admiring herself in the mirror, “of course he will, he’s not blind Millie” you said trying to hide how deflated you were. Following her downstairs she bought you in for one last hug, “thanks (y/n/n), I can always count on you” as she walked out to the car parked up outside your house. “Oh! Happy birthday by the way!” she waved as she was driven away from you.

Watching her leave you knew, things had to change. You can’t carry on being so available and dependable to her every time she calls. A friendship isn’t a friendship if it’s one sided.. but how many times have you told yourself that before?