#<- BREAKING OUT THE TAG AGAIN MFS

[eosofspades]

i have to do everything myself around here (/hj)

analyzing what it is about these little guys that makes them so good. as a character designer, visual artist, obsessive art analysist, and someone who just happens to be insane about ghosts in particular, i feel i have some authority to try my hand at the matter.

(under read more because this is a long one. with pictures!)

my claim is: multiple factors combined make the Peak Video Game Companion Form, and that these factors are...

SMALL. perfect size for holding, perfect size for tucking into your hood and snuggling, also makes you more likely to find them cute and feel protective over them because they are so small and vulnerable. (even spiky or extra-protective shells don't really fully dissuade this because the size of them remains the same)

NO limbs. ghosts are VERY expressive but because they lack hands and limbs they have to rely entirely on full-body movement & voice to convey this, which actually makes their gestures seem more exaggerated & obvious. (and of course the voice actors are just always knocking it out of the park; this is absolutely a big part of it) (nolan north especially like ghost's voice is CRAZY emotionally versatile)

and yet! despite their expressiveness! - NO features. an incredibly bold move by the designers to make the most lovable character & your full-time companion a guy with no features except one (1) IMPLIED eye. it's not even a real eye; it's a little image OF a ghost on a screen. this goes back to the previous point; that they're forced to be overly-expressive because they have no features like a mouth or eyebrows to convey something like a grin or scowl. (this ALSO creates a feeling of affection in the player, i think, because when they ARE expressing themselves it's always cute - again in large part because of how small they are & that their ONE feature is a LARGE eye (compared to the rest of their body). when they're happy they twirl their whole shell around, a particular favorite of mine is when ghost is angry and lowers his whole shell so that his eye is half-covered in such a manner it LOOKS like he's glaring. that's absolutely hilarious & adorable.)

entirely digital! i love that they're robots and i honestly think some of the appeal of them would be lost if they were creatures, like, a race of alien or something instead of a type of small robot. i think that what makes this such a good feature is that it creates a sort of distance in one way between the player and the ghost - we're not the same Thing, this is a robot and not a person, and so when they BEHAVE like a person (emotional! expressive! full of love and whimsy!!) it kind of bolsters the affection you have for them because it's New and unique; not, like, a pre-existing thing (like well yeah naturally they've got instincts and emotions and subjective reactions, they're an animal/person - vs., OH, they've got instincts and emotions and subjective reactions because even though they're a robot, they're still complex like a person!!)

also i can't not mention the overall shape language & design. there is an absolutely crazy amount of stuff going on in a design so simple. the symmetry is great, for starters - sometimes symmetry CAN be used to create unease by feeling artificial/unnatural, but in this case, the symmetry of the design connotates something easily-understood, reliable, safe, etc that puts us at ease. (this is also in correlation with the previous endearing factors such as size & expressiveness.)

continuing this, the shapes. the ghost is so satisfying to look at because it's made of shapes we find visually comforting & reliable - even when those shapes aren't actually there!

let me ask you this: the shell fins are triangular, right? nope! very few ACTUAL triangles on this guy! but the body is segmented in a way that makes it appear so. (this goes into actual shape language in the way our brains read it - we like odd numbers, because it feels more natural than even-ness and symmetry and perfect balance. part of the reason i think the ghost's symmetry is so appealing is because it is paired with these more "natural" shapes. (the fins LOOK like triangles, and they're actually 5-sided.) here, i even made diagrams:

also included in this one is the natural positioning. the design would be a little more disconcerting if the fins were positioned in an x instead of a +, and they almost are from the side, BUT even from the side, the middle fins still center a + shape to break it up.

last little detail regarding actual literal design is color. this one isn't AS big of a deal, especially because the shells are SO customizable, but i think it's worth mentioning that they look bright and shiny and smooth, BUT the particular white color of the shell is a scuffed, warm white, which again feels more natural and inviting. pairing it with the brownish-orange freckle (did you know the top and bottom tips of the shell are canonically called freckles??) makes it feel natural and familiar.

i also think it's worth looking at what is NOT a good ghost example. i found these pieces of concept art, including ghosts with their guardians, and what i believe is an early concept of the spider.

oh i am so glad these remained concept art. aren't you so glad that these remained concept art.

don't get me wrong, this is absolutely a viable character design, but FOR ghosts - for your lifelong platonic soulmate in the face of encroaching darkness?? for your silly sweet little guy??? absolutely not NEARLY as good as what we've been blessed with now. two eyes and a little mouth looking thing?? WRONG!! perfectly orbular shape?? WRONG!! that's not my guy!! (the perfectly round shells you can customize with ARE fine because you already KNOW the generalist design, and the one big eye stays the same.) and from this we can glean that the fins ARE important because they SUBSTITUTE as limbs, but this little circle body is just automatically less visually endearing and immediately seems like it would be less expressive. much to learn!)

SO. what now.

the main goal of me writing this whole thing is mostly to figure out what the guidelines here are so they can be adapted to other character designs - i have a similar concept to a ghost in an original project i'm working on, but invoking the same kind of loveability in them has proven insanely difficult. and of course, the context IS extremely relevant - a huge part of why we love ghosts so much IS dependent on the story, their role as a player companion, the significance of their connection to the player/player character (platonic soulmateism my beloved), and how they complement and contrast the setting of destiny. (part of the reason their symmetry and mechanical-ity(?) is so comforting because the rest of the world, especially the place where you first wake up, is so chaotic, broken-down & overgrown.)

also a quick but significant side note is that the fins are so much better than the ghost being small and round like a servitor (as the concept art seems to suggest) because it ALSO distances them from the traveler; despite being of it, they're not the same thing; they're their own beings who don't know everything it knows or even understand what exactly its history is. that round core and the white color draws that connection to the traveler, but the shapes and fins make them clearly their own things.

also, i genuinely think the name "ghost" is a part of this. categorically not what a ghost IS, but using such a simple word matches their vibe (& it feels white and cool and clean), and the word has an ethereal quality to it - i'd go so far as to say the connotation of it is sort of a longing or distance, invoking a kind of loss, which just ties everything about their lore together. (i LOVE when a simple, seemingly out-of-place word is used for things like this. phenomenal trope.)

so, we've got size, expressiveness, lack of limbs/features, and robotness. we got shape language and a very specific balance between artificial and natural. we've got name connotation. was this helpful? i don't know. if i had to list what to take AWAY from these categories to recreate the Ghost Effect, i would say...

size: keep them small. this one is not malleable, this is an integral part of the design.

expressiveness: over-expression GOOD, but works best when paired with a body/form that lacks things to express with (like features)

robotness: ???? maybe i'm mistaken and you could pull this off with a creature!! it kind of depends on the setting. if you wanted to try something like this in high fantasy instead of scifi, i would say the throughline should be something that you wouldn't expect to behave like a human; or something you would expect to be perfectly logical/calculated/efficient, so that that humanity & emotionality & personality really hits.

shape language: what is both distinct enough to clearly be its own thing, with shapes and patterns (symmetry counts as a pattern) that we find comforting but not overly-familiar? (also "distinct enough to be its own thing" is just a good rule of thumb for creature design in general - the silhouette should be clearly identifiable for maximum effect!)

artificial and natural: this ties into the previous item. unique & distinct but with some kind of sense of familiarity maintained

name: i think i've found my thesis, honestly, because this is, again, what is FAMILIAR but unique? what does it connotate? i think simplicity is an integral aspect of this, also.

THESIS/TL;DR/CONCLUSION: the Ghost's design is perfect because it is the ideal blend of something that is unique and distinct (and endearing) while also centering elements that are familiar to us in a comforting way.

thank you for coming to my TED talk remember to kiss your ghost

what is it abt ghosts that gives them the best character design ever, i'm not even talking about the wild customizable shells or anything i mean like the base design, what IS it that makes it so lovable. it's something to do with the simplicity and symmetry, but also they're so expressive and adorable that even though they're entirely robotic they seem so human and endearing. how does one recreate this effect or at least clearly outline how to achieve such a thing

[mspaint-flower]

sometimes you just gotta let the brainrot consume you

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

MILF

Tags: Toji x Reader, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink

Synopsis: Toji loves fucking milfs. Send tweet.

An: I love how we all collectively as a fandom decided Toji is the nastiest mf out there. I just really feel like he is down w everything.

Toji thinks it’s adorable when you’re apologizing profusely for canceling plans on him again. Kid’s gotta come first, right? He knows that being a single mom is hard, and that you wouldn’t be cancelling plans so often if you didn’t have a kid.

He doesn’t mind sitting with your kid while you take a while to get ready. He sits next to your son on the couch and plays xbox with him, telling you to take your time. He knows you don’t get to get out too often. Hell, your kid probably doesn’t know what a babysitter is because you never know how to take a break.

Toji finds you stunning as soon as you walk out of the bedroom in that sexy black dress. He doesn’t even mind that your snot nose brat just killed him in whatever game they were playing. “Haha! I beat you!” Your son gloats. While you talk to the babysitter about what your kid can and can’t have, he leans over towards your son’s ear. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna go fuck your mom, so who’s really winning?”

He has to practically drag you out of the house, placing his hand on the small of your back as a firm guide towards his car. He knows how badly you need “adult time”. You’ve complained plenty about only hanging out with your kid and having no social life.

His excitement grows as he watches you get tipsy off one glass of wine. You really don’t get out much, do you? He carefully walks you back to his car after dinner, and you’re just gushing over your little brat back at home. He’s had to stop you from calling the babysitter like 5 times to check up on him.

“Too busy takin’ care of everyone else, ma. Let me take care of you.” He mutters in your ear as he parks his car in the middle of nowhere.

Toji fucking loves the curves that come from childbearing, and don’t even get him started on the stretch marks. He’s a fiend when it comes to your full breasts that aren’t as perky as they were before your son.

He adores how moms aren’t afraid to get it on anywhere. They know the value of time, and they never know when another opportunity will arise. They take it when they can get it, and right now, you’re taking it in the back of Toji’s car.

“Mmmn~ shit. You swear you’re not a virgin?” He moans as your gummy walls squeeze tightly around his length. You’d giggle at his comment if you weren’t so full of his cock. You can only manage to let out a pathetic quiet whine.

“Nuh uh, louder baby.” He instructs as he works on stretching your cunt out. “Tonight’s all about you. Let me hear you.” A more confident moan falls from your lips from his words, and he grins behind you, loving the way you sound while you struggle to take him all in.

Toji has you face down ass up in his back seat. Your ass ripples with each time he plunges his thick cock in and out of you. The car fills with the nastiest noises straight from your sopping wet cunt. He swears to god moms always get the wettest. Their bodies are experienced, knowing more lubricant helps ease his cock in and out.

“Fuuuck, ma. You feel so fuckin’ good.” He groans behind you as his hips continue to slap against your asscheeks. “Makin’ me want to breed this pussy for myself.”

“Ngh~ T-Toji!” You cry out as your face is pressed to the leather of the seat. Your mouth is slightly agape, drooling everywhere from being so cock drunk.

“Hm? What you think about that, ma? I could give you another little brat to raise.” The car creaks and rocks back and forth with each harsh thrust. His eyes are fixed on your juices that are pooling around the base of his cock.

“I- … oh god, fuck~” You don’t even have it in you deny him. His cock feels so fucking good; you don’t want to say anything to make him stop. You need this.

Slap!

His hand connects with the fat of your ass as he swats at you. “Not an answer, ma.” He grunts as he leans his weight onto you, using it to his advantage against your poor sticky cunt. His large hand presses between your shoulder blades, holding you down to the seat.

“B-breed me!” Your voice cries out in a tone you’ve never heard before.

“Thaaat’s it.” He drawls with a smirk as his hips start to pound harder. “Good girl. Usin’ your words like that f’me. Daddy’ll give you what you want.”

Toji leans his head back, basking in the way your pussy is practically crying for him. Oh, the things flooding in his mind right now are downright fucking filthy. Thinking about how pretty you’d look pregnant with his kid. Thinking about giving your son a little sibling.

“Ohh~ my g-god… pleaasee.. I’m gonna come..” Your poor voice sounds so fucked out, your hips start to move, bouncing back against him while chasing your orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, ma… That’s it. Fuck me back.” He praises as his hand starts to massage your pillowy ass. His lewdly balls are clapping against your clit, stimulating you as well as making the most erotic noises. “Cum on daddy’s fat cock. C’mon. I know you can do it.”

Within seconds, your pussy is clenching around him, milking him for all he’s worth while your orgasm washes over you. “Shiiiit~ ma.” He hisses as he has to force himself to keep thrusting. His cock is throbbing from how sensitive he is right now, on the brink of his orgasm.

“Fuck. Toji, Toji, Toji..” You feel tears spring into your eyes as he continues to fuck you into oblivion. Overstimulated tears stroll down your cheeks as your body is so sensitive.

“Keep sayin’ my name, ma. Keep sayin’ daddy’s name.” He groans as he leans more into you, almost mounting you at this point. “Ngh~ gonna put a baby in you, okay ma?”

“Please—“ You hiccup as your body is continually getting wrecked.

A growl rips through his throat as he yanks your hips back into him, shoving himself as deep as your body will allow, and his cock pulses as he spills deep inside you.

Toji loves takin’ pretty mamas like you home after he’s finished ruining them. The way they half waddle and stumble back onto the house with his cum still nestled in their cute cunts. He imagines they try to sober up enough to kiss their kids goodnight before they get the best sleep of their life.

It ain’t much, but it’s honest work for Toji. 🫡

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

[coolshadowtwins]

Shen Brothers where the system puts SY into the role of SJ’s brother (younger or twin, either), and changes the world accordingly. This happens around the time that SY would have come to the world normally (Binghe is 14~)

Ask YQY, and of course he would tell you about Xiao-Yuan, who had been there all their childhood.

Ask LQG, and he will tell you how he absolutely hates SJ, the bastard, but he guesses his brother is ok. He doesn’t like him or anything but.

Ask QHT, and she will angrily tell you about the man who ruined her life, SJ, and how he just pulled his sweet brother into it. How SY was always quiet and withdrawn in the manor and so obviously wouldn’t have helped kill her family.

As NYY or MF, and any of them would tell you about their Shizun’s brother who only comes around sometimes but is really nice to them.

Ask SJ? He will tell you that he has no brother, he has never had a brother and who the hell is this stranger with his face?

The system changed everything, except for the tagged characters- ‘protagonist’ and ‘scum villain’ did not get involved with the world change, and have no idea who SY is. LBH is pretty ok with this. SJ absolutely is not.

SJ- You stay away!

YQY- Shen-Shidi, I don’t think Xiao-Yuan has done anything….?

SJ- Xiao-Yuan? Xiao-Yuan?! Who is he?! We did not grow up with him!!

This does lead into a horrifying idea where, as SY breaks SJ’s walls down and befriends him, SJ becomes less of a ‘scum villain’. And as he loses the title, then he gets more memories of ‘his brother’ back from childhood. Idk, that level of manipulation, especially where they can’t do anything about it, sounds horrific lol

(I did think of a funnier thing as I was writing this where the title of ‘wife’ was also excluded. It wouldn’t change much, because not many wives would have come into contact with SY but that does mean a couple of things.

1) NYY has no idea who all her martial siblings are talking about. Shizun’s nice brother? Since when??? At least A-Luo has also not met him.

2) LMY has no idea when her brother had gotten this crush, but are we sure this guy is even real? Don’t get her wrong, the idea of falling in love with your hated rival’s sibling sounds romantic, but she has never in her life heard LQG talk about this guy before. And apparently they were disciples together! Does her brother just not tell her things, or is he making things up? LQG, on his part, insists he had mentioned SY just last week. Also, he didn’t have a crush on his hated rival’s sibling, thank you very much!

Man’s QHT would only know about SJ. She sees him together and goes… ‘who’s he?’ And SJ is like ‘Thank you! I never want to see you again, but someone else finds this weird!’

And then someone, probably OPM, pulls out a slave contact and goes ‘hmmm… but it says here both Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were sold to the Qius…?’

QHT:……. That sounds fake, but I’ll go with it for the sake of my accusations.

SJ-Damn it!)

[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg - 004

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.5K

authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.

“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.

You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.

Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”

You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”

Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”

You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”

You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’

“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”

Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”

Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”

“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”

You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”

Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”

You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”

“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”

“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.

“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?

You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”

The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”

You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.

“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”

You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.

You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.

You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”

How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.

So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.

“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.

“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.

“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”

“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”

Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”

Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”

“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”

You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.

You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.

It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”

“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”

“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”

“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”

“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.

Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.

“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.

“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.

“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.

“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.

“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.

“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”

“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”

“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”

“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”

“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.

“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”

“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.

“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”

“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”

You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?

“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.

“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”

Taglist

@everestwho @sukonsukuna @ejaeee @oppa-agust-d @softlore23 @empty-and-nameless @darkphoenix5037 @agustdsslutt @nepheleindreamland @pennyellee @fairy-jojo @mysweetpianoo @elodieeluvsjk @acquiescence804 @niamscraic @secfir @judebellinghamswife @prettybitxc @forevercarpediem227 @noraaaru @bangtanxcoffee @pamzn @addictedtohobi @bex-92br @mindairy @milomai19 @wolfvmin @wertaix @hanadulset714 @honeynicoole @catlove83 @polipiper @sophiroth @kooslilhoe @legit-min-yoongi-trash-tho @guesswhatimthinking @cynicalbitch666 @cuntessaiii @aloverga @slut4jeon @mamidescarada @officialholyagua @wobblewobble822 @purest-expressionofgrief @multiasf @annacroft23114 @digitalstalker @sugaslittlekookies @rosquilleta @kooksbunnnn

[saintslewis]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

-

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

[love-belle]

light as a feather !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she writes a song and finds love again while he finds himself facing the consequences of his actions.

or

for when the right person is right around the corner. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!ex!reader // charles leclerc x fem!reader (implied)

sequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language, mention of cock once, sex jokes (???)

author's note - might make a part 2 idkk but i hope u like this <3 thank u sm for reading!!!! alsoooo im gonna start a taglist so if ur interested PLEASE let me know <3

taglist - @marsdreamworld @1nt3rnetgf

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by y/nupdates, f1paddockgossip, y/nsteponme and 79,628 others

popnews y/n y/l/n and lando norris called it quits after almost a year of being together. this news came after y/l/n flew out to see him during the dutch grand prix and left the very next day, not attending the race. "it was very sudden, neither of them saw it coming," sources close to the pair commented. "they were together for a year and it was getting very real and that scared lando. he just felt like the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere." this proved to be kind of confusing and controversial as not even a week after their break up, norris was spotted with a girl out on a "date". for more details, visit the link in our bio.

2,528 comments

username say sike rn

username WHAT THE FUCK.

username "the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere" brother what do u MEAN it wasn't going anywhere and what do u MEAN he went on a date

username nah this is insane wtf

username no bc he's scared of commitment after a YEAR in the relationship like what the fuck

-> username like brother those are the things u realise after the first few dates not a YEAR wtf

username i feel so bad for y/n like i know my girl gave it her all

-> username imagine being with someone for a year and they break up with u bc they're scared of commitment but then go on a date not even a week later

-> username she's stronger than me bc i would've bitch slapped that mf

username i just know she's cooking something like im on the edge of my seat fr

username don't come at me but this is charles' time to shine

-> username nah bc that boy has been harbouring the BIGGEST crush on her for years

username the next album is gonna be fire 🔥🔥🔥

username no bc they were so cute together i thought they'd be forever :////

username my parents 💔💔💔💔💔💔

username no bc if this turns out that he cheated on her i will RIOT

username praying for lando bc y/n is everyone's fav on grid

-> username man's definitely tasting gravel the next race

-> username it's gonna be charles to push him off i can see it 🙏🙏🙏

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,772,415 others

yourusername feather out everywhere lol have fun with this one <3

tagged landonorris

28,628 comments

username TOO MUCH GOING ON I NEED TO SCREAM

username THE TAG THE SONG THE LYRICS OG MY GOF

username i am afraid lando is crying as we speak rn

charles_leclerc so good 😘

-> yourusername thank u charles 🫶🏼

-> username i just KNOW his everlasting crush came back with a VENGEANCE

username bet charles is just gonna slide up now that lando fumbled

username LMFAOAOAO SIS REALLY CAME FOR HIS NECK LIKE THAT

username she gagged him with this

username ur signals are MIXED u act like a BITCH u fit EVERY stereotype send a PIC

-> username iconic

lilymhe enjoyed every second of it 🔥🔥🔥

-> yourusername i love u <3

username i just KNOW that the drivers gc is WILD rn

-> username i would everything to be in there atm

maxfewtrell oh the silence from his room is LOUD

-> yourusername LMFAOAOAO

username men really don't know how to handle a bad bitch

-> username fr like 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

taylorswift so proud 🤧🩷

-> yourusername i love u mom

username the silence is LOUD

username nah bro fumbled HARD

username NAHHH NOT THE TAG OH MY GOD

username i absolutely LOVE this song but im not gonna lie i miss lando and y/n SO bad like i wanted what they had 💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username no bc i need to go back to their in love era

username lando norris is having a breakdown over this as we talk

carlossainz55 on repeat 😍

*liked by yourusername*

username someone PLEASE hand the mic to lando i need to hear what he has to say about this

username never make a singer mad at u bc they WILL write a song about u

*liked by yourusername*

alex_albon absolutely iconic

-> yourusername thank u lily's bf 🪿

username no bc i was expecting more of a heartbreak song but THIS??????

username cleared him

username he must be soooo embarrassed like how r u gonna go ahead and say that u lost HER

username mother ate

username she always serves cunt

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl cool song 💌

-> yourusername angel ❤️‍🩹

-> username OH MY GOD

-> username i did not see this coming

-> username PLEASE the duo i didn't know i needed

-> username lando is somewhere pulling at his hair

-> username love it when people (y/n and luisinha) unite to destroy their common enemy (lando)

≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,628,825 others

yourusername floatin through the memories like wtv (photo creds to charles_leclerc who annoyed me until i agreed to post these)

15,527 comments

username OH MY GOD

username THE DRESS THE EVERYTHING HER

username my lord she has served cunt once again

-> username as expected

username im so bi like

alex_albon oh how i LOVE being a woman

-> yourusername alex wtf

-> alex_albon LILY POSTED THAT I DIDN'T OMG

-> yourusername sure

-> username ALEX LMFOAOAOAO

username CHARLES AND HER OMG

username im HERE for charles and her like yes pls

username the dress is soooooo pretty like 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

-> username fr like how did charles not pass out from behind the camera

-> charles_leclerc trust me, i was so close

-> username NAH THIS MAN HAS TO BE STOPPED

-> username im giggling and that wasn't even directed at me

username the prettiest 🫶🏼🫶🏼

carla.brocker miss my girl so much u look like an angel 🩷🫶🏼

-> yourusername miss u so bad i love u 💕🍧

username she's so pretty oh my god

username pretty beautiful ethereal breathtaking hot angelic gorgeous cute heavenly stunning ravishing divine graceful alluring elegant

username js say the word y/n i can bark ☺️

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl 🫶🏼

-> yourusername i love u 🫶🏼

-> username i love them sm

-> username no bc this will always be iconic

username i NEED charles and y/n to get together like rn

username SHE'S SO ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username ate so hard and left no crumbs

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍

-> yourusername 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc too good to be gatekept

-> yourusername ok who the fuck taught u what gatekept means

-> charles_leclerc alex

-> yourusername stay away from my man alex_albon

-> alex_albon your man 😏

-> charles_leclerc 😏😏😏😏😏

-> yourusername i hate both of u

charles_leclerc does this mean you're my girl?

-> yourusername not if ur gonna be cocky like this

-> alex_albon oh he is gonna be COCKy alrightttt

-> charles_leclerc i mean...

-> yourusername JAIL BOTH OF U

-> username oh they definitely together or something

-> username nah they're fs dating

username y/n just one chance pls

username my pronouns are she not her bc i'll NEVER be her

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 975,327 others

landonorris talking shit ain't gonna do a thing

11,628 comments

username says YOU

username lando babe go on do it log out and never log in again

username alr that's enough being silly for today

username dw guys he was just feeling a lil silly 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪😝😝😝😝😝🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

username no words

carlossainz55 listen to your own advice, brother.

-> username damn he even used proper punctuation and all

username hahahahaha 😐😐😐😐😐 SOOOO hilarious 😐😐😐😐😐

username stfu

username "talking shit" my brother she literally just wrote a song destroying u and connected with ur ex and got a f1 driver who was ur friend up in her dms and posted a few shady captions what r u on abt.

-> username y'all my girl did no wrong he had this coming for cheating

charles_leclerc lol

-> username out of everything everyone has commented this is by far the most scariest one

-> username u know u have done fucked up with charles comments "lol"

username love how the comments are just bullying lando 🫶🏼

alex_albon LMFAOAOAOAO

-> username PLEASEEE ALEX

-> username forever in love with him he's my babygirl

username love how protective the drivers are of y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username m*n need to go back to war fr

maxverstappen1 cannot wait to see you on track this week.

-> username i have a feeling lando's gonna kiss the barriers this sunday 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

username anyway stream feather by y/n 🫶🏼

username LOVE to see the grid calling him out

-> username fr like gag him

lewishamilton nice joke. never joke again.

-> username no bc if i got called out by THE lewis hamilton i will just never show my face ever again

-> username right like how is he not embarrassed

username no bc if i lost someone like y/n bc i was a fucking idiot and then my best friend rizzed her up i would just simply Pass Away like that's a level of embarrassment i CANNOT take

lilymhe didn't you cheat on her 😂😂😂😂😂

-> username NOT LILY CONFIRMING THAT

-> username nah he deserves everyone calling him out lando wtf

username lily u will always be famous

maxfewtrell don't make me apply for a new roommate

-> username PLEASE MAX

-> username just a very good example as to why u should NEVER EVER EVER EVER cheat on ANYONE bc u will end up like lando on the internet

username y/n bout to swing back on him i can feel it

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 2,262,826

yourusername i hit ignore

17,528 comments

username PLEASE

username she's too iconic i fear

username I LOVE HER SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS

username no bc u know shit is real when seb is here

username i love how luisinha and y/n are like best friends now

-> username the most iconic pair EVER

*liked by luisinhaoliveira99 and yourusername*

danielricciardo baby-you was so swag

-> yourusername i know

-> danielricciardo what happened now

-> yourusername wOW

username she was such a vibe-y child i love that

username this is so MESSY and im here for every second of it

username her using her own lyrics like mother 🙏🙏🙏

username i would get on my knees for y/n and y/n only

username serves cunt again and again

charles_leclerc smash that ignore button and while you're at it, i sent you flowers 🥰

-> yourusername omg they're so prettyyy i love them ☹️❤️

-> username PEOPLE WE'VE UPGRADED TO RED HEART

-> username white heart to red heart we love to see it

username no bc what i don't get is how he's gonna break up with her after a YEAR of being together bc lil bitch boy got scared of commitment and then turn around and allegedly cheat on her and then say u talking shit like NO SHUT THE FUCK UP we got a banger song and an iconic duo with the bad bitches u fumbled and i get a chance to see charles FINALLY make a move on his godforsaken crush

-> yourusername that was so intense and im trying to process it all but U GO BABY I LOVE UUUUU

-> luisinhaoliveira99 spoke facts

username love the comments are just charles and y/n, luisinha and y/n and anti l*ndo ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username im sooo here for this let's fucking go

alex_albon i would've been best friends with baby-you ngl

-> yourusername we're literally best friends what the fuck r u about

-> alex_albon no you're just an unfortunate addition to my life because my gf loves you

-> yourusername yeah she loves me MORE than u so go cry abt it

-> lilymhe true 🫶🏼

-> alex_albon wow

username the day charles and y/n (IT WILL HAPPEN) get together will be the day i can finally rest in peace

username the silence from l*ndo's side is DEAFENING

[reidsglasscs]

hiii can i get a smau percy x daughter of persephone who loves flowers and lives on a farm

FLOWER POWER!

✸ pairing: percy jackson x daughter of persephone!reader smau

✸ notes: tysm for requesting & im sorry this took a hot minute, but i hope you like it!! 🤍

…now playing: love grows (where my rosemary goes) — edison lighthouse

persea_: i’ve officially made friends with the ferns 🫡(thank you yn for not letting them eat me)

tagged: @flowersforyn

view all comments

g_man: are you…are you AWARE of how ferns work?

╰┈➤ persea_: yeah i am. 2 words: chomp chomp

chqsingannabeth: who’s…who’s truck did you steal?

╰┈➤ persea_: what’re you a cop?

flowersforyn: guys don’t be fooled by the second pic, this was the aftermath of him DROPPING me

╰┈➤ persea_: one, didn’t have to expose me like that & two, I SAID I WAS SORRY

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: SORRY ISNT ENOUGH, MY ASS STILL HURTS

╰┈➤ persea_: i bet it does 😗😉

╰┈➤ g_man: reminder that this is a PUBLIC app

ghostking: pls don’t break her

╰┈➤ persea_: did…did u just say PLEASE?

╰┈➤ ghostking: i take it back. break her and i break your neck.

team.leo: why she violating a tree like that

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: leo just bc you didn’t get hugged as a kid doesn’t mean nobody else did 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: OH SHE ATE YOU TF UP WITH THAT ONE. GAGGED

tysonn: ask yn if ferns will be my friend too

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: they absolutely will tyson, we’ll have to bring you out to the farm next weekend <3

╰┈➤ tysonn: yay!

╰┈➤ persea_: me too, right?

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: …

╰┈➤ persea_: RIGHT??

notpipermclean: yn get this loser off our farm, the kids are asking questions

╰┈➤ persea_: PIPER STOP HITTING ON MY GF AND SPREADING FALSE INFORMATION

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: NO🤗 im gonna report you for hate speech

╰┈➤ persea_: mf YOU’RE hate speeching ME

╰┈➤ sp4rky: @ team.leo the girls are fighting 👀

╰┈➤ team.leo: 🍿🫢

…now playing: strawberries & cigarettes — troye sivan

flowersforyn: fav boy on the farm!! 🍓

tagged: persea_

view all comments

chqsingannabeth: your face being cut off of that first pic is CRIMINAL 😩 not percy’s tho, that was a gift from the gods

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: im srry babe, i looked goofy 😔

╰┈➤ chqsingannabeth: oh no ma’am, you could NEVER

╰┈➤ persea_: WE GONNA IFNORE THE COMMENT SBT ME HELLO?!

persea_: the best day with my absolute best girl 🩵

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: kicking my feet & giggling, ILY SEAWEED BRAIN 🤍

╰┈➤ persea_: ILY TOO FLOWER POWER

g_man: WHAT did you do to make those strawberries look so scrumdidliuptious?

╰┈➤ persea_: dyslexia just took me OUT with this one dude 😭

╰┈➤ g_man: nobody was talking to you brotha 🙏

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: grover bud i use my mommy’s magic, hope this helps 🫶

persea_: don’t let her lie to you, people. i thought my first fit was BOMB & then she made me put on that sweater cuz it was cold as hell outside

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: i want you to read that again…slowly

notpipermclean: save me yn the garden princess …save me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: have no fear bae, im here 🫂

╰┈➤ persea_: yn, babydoll, i beg of you, PLEASE stop hitting on people that aren’t me

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: there’s enough of me to go around perce 😒

╰┈➤ notpipermclean: YEAH PERCY SHARE

sp4rky: why is bro carryin a whole bakery on that swing

╰┈➤ persea_: jason…🤭

╰┈➤ flowersforyn: NAW IF I CANT DO IT YOU CANT DO IT, JASON GET TF OUTTA MY COMMENT SECTION OR ELSE

╰┈➤ sp4rky: I PLEAD THE FIFTH

flowersforyn uploaded a story!

@ g_man replied:

why is bro so silly 😭

idk but he’s the silliest

@ sp4rky replied:

tell him to leave the flying to me

i’m not telling him SHIT from you

RAHH

@ persea_ replied:

idk what ur on about, i look terrifying here

oh yeah, i’m shaking in my boots

great, now can you pls come help me get down?

idk…

YN PLEASE

yknow, i can’t kiss you from up here

i’m otw 🏃‍♀️ 💨

[aliorsboxostuff]

A/N Honestly this is really self-indulgent ‘cuz my instincts went “This mf forgets to eat I just know it.” and turned it into a really fluffy fic lmao. I wrote this with a male Spiderman in mind, but gender-neutral readers are also welcome of course! Hope you all enjoyed it!

Lunch

Tags: Miguel O’hara x m!Reader, Possible gn!Reader, Peter B. Parker, Mayday Parker, mention of Gwen, Fluff, Just taking care our resident dilf, He/him prns, Spiderman!Reader, caring!reader, Emotionally constipated Miguel? Emotionally constipated Miguel., Peter being the best wingman, Mayday being her cute self, Self-indulgent

Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. So what do you do? Exactly, force him into taking a break… Sorta.

Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. Only when his body is finally demanding food does he leave the monitors in the care of Jessica or Lyla while he goes through the cafeteria for a satisfying meal or his favorite Empanadas. So far, if there wasn't a catastrophic event—Which is pointless because he would've seen it before anyone else—Or a Spider-person that needs his immediate help, he keeps himself perched on his platform, monitoring the vast universes, unblinking, the video of him and his daughter playing just on his peripherals. 

“Miguel! How long have you been up there?” Until you.

Another Spiderman that joined the spider society just a couple of months ago has managed to worm his way into Miguel’s thorn bushes. He doesn't even know how, or when, did you start to become a constant in his nonstop monitoring but you did, annoyingly so. Your voice echoes the large room, steps follow suit as you stand at the base of his lair.

You huff, before pulling your mask off and arching a brow while your question is left unanswered. You’ve only done this a handful of times. The day you learned that Miguel O’hara, the guy that doesn't leave his damn perch unless you can hear his stomach rumble a mile away or his body forces him to take a nap, you’ve dedicated a bit of your time to make sure he takes a time off from those screens. Spiderman or not, he still needs rest. 

“Seriously man,” You sigh, considering swinging yourself up to that damn platform. “Have you eaten anything for the last 7 hours?”

Another silence. “You missed lunch, y'know, if it weren't for Lyla I would have thought you died.”

Of course, nothing. You blink, annoyed, before deciding to just turn around and head to the cafeteria yourself. If he won't get food for himself then you will.

At this point, seeing you exit Miguel’s office has been a normal recurrence for the other Spider-people. So when you walk down the corridor, others wave and said their hi’s while you reply back. As much as you miss your universe, hanging out with others of your kind is refreshing. You reach the end of the walkway where it drops before you shoot out webs and swing to where the cafeteria is, cutting your journey short. Who knows how long Miguel has neglected his stomach?

You picked up today's dinner menu, thanking the server, before snagging an Empanada and then swiftly swinging back to Miguel's office. You make your way inside, making sure to not trip on the scattered tech and cables, and to no one’s surprise; he’s still staring at those screens. 

“Here,” You sat the plate and box down on one of the many boxes and tables around his office. “Eat it, or not. I’m sure your stomach will appreciate it if you do,”

You shrugged before swiftly walking back to exit his lair once more, rolling your eyes when he doesn't respond again. Typical.

—

“I really don't get his problem, I mean, I'm just looking out for him, isn't that what teammates do?”

“No ones ever really brought him food, man,”

“Yeah well he’ll get his own food when he starves, and I don't think the others would like that,” You snicker before landing beside Peter. He was heading to Miguels to report a new potential member so you tagged along, besides you missed holding Mayday. 

“I think he appreciates it though,” Peter presses the button and the door opens, the three of you walking inside. You cross your arm, watching as Mayday starts to scale his dad, her giggles contagious.

“Weird way of showing it,” You huff, eyeing the girl as she starts pulling at Peter's strands before you reach for her, cradling her against your chest and tickling her little body. “No ‘Thank you’? Or y’know, a small ‘thanks’ maybe?” 

She coos, turning her head as if she understands your rambling. You hold her under her arms, then nuzzle her fluffy hair which makes her giggle.  You stare down her eyes, wrinkling your nose. “He’s a little crap isn't he, May?” She cackles in delight which makes you grin.

“Hey, no swearing around the kid,” Peter grumbles and when Mayday makes grabby hands towards her father, you hand her back.

“Says the dad that takes his daughter on missions?” You smirk, lightly punching Pete’s shoulder, making both of you laugh, and Mayday follows suit with her giggles. Finally reaching Miguel’s lair, the man is always on his platform, before Peter calls for him to report. As you watch the platform dramatically descend, this time with Miguel holding a screen tablet and facing you and Peter.

At least he’s not facing those screens this time, you thought. You cross your arms, eye scanning around the room when you spot a clean cafeteria plate on the same table you left it on a couple of hours before. 

“Hey uh…” Peter hums when you start to reach for the plate. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back,” 

You quickly picked up the utensil and went ahead outside, already swinging your way toward the cafeteria. You peek inside the box and to your delight, the empanada you brought for him is already gone. You smile, humming in relief as you make your way to drop off the plate. You gave it to the staff and threw the box into the trash before you made your way back to the lair again.

A smile creeps its way to your lips and it won't leave, the feeling of a small blooming rose inside your heart as you realize Miguel does eat the food you leave for him. 

As you made your way through the doors, you heard the deep baritone of Miguel's voice conversing with Peter. 

“I don't understand him.” That made your step falter. You swiftly pressed back to the hallway leading to Miguel's lair, making sure to hear their voices clearly, though deep down you knew you shouldn't do this. 

“What don't you understand, man? He just cares about you,” Peter's voice is accompanied by Mayday's giggling. “He brings you food and makes sure you take breaks, I mean, I think that’s a pretty good thing,”

“I know It’s a good thing, Peter. But why? What does he want?”

“Not everything needs to have an ulterior motive, Miguel,” Peter chuckles, you can hear Mayday's laughs too. “Maybe he just wants to. Who knows,”

Then there was silence. You blink, processing the conversation, a million other thoughts fly by you, the biggest was your worry about burdening him. Maybe Miguel doesn't want you to do this, why else would he think you wanted something from him? Maybe you should back down, leave him alone like how everyone else treats him, maybe-

“It is… Nice of him, though,” A sudden rush of heat flows into your cheeks.

“I should thank him, one of these days,” Miguel continued. At this point, Peter should have sensed you but has said nothing. Until Mayday turns the corner and then came crawling into your view, you decided to make your appearance. 

You scoop up the little girl, cuddling her close to your chest. “Hey, kiddo! You shouldn't be back here!”

She cackles, little hands reaching for your strands which makes you laugh. You pull your head up to see Miguel and Peter standing at the end of the hallway, Peter with an oddly smug look while Miguel suddenly turns towards his monitors. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothin’, just done reporting,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, walking towards you before taking Mayday, “I should head back though, this little spider needs her nap, don't you?” 

Mayday giggles in her father's arm, Peter already waving as he exits the office. “Later, you two!”

“See ya’ Pete!” You wave back, catching May’ little hands waving too before the door closes. 

Now it's just you and Miguel. It's rare seeing him off of the platform, away from that far-away bubble. You’ve only seen him on duty with other Spideys, that's the only time he’s away from the glowing screens. He’s still focused on the screen tablet when you jogged closer. Now that you’re meters away from him, You notice how broad his shoulders actually are, and the slight curls on the back of his head. You clear your throat, looking at anything other than Miguel.

“So… The new recruit Peter gave you? We taking them in?”

“Huh? Yeah, yes.” Miguel shifts slightly, you rub your hands together.

“Alright, cool,” You cringe, the air suffocating with tension and unspoken words. You look around, before deflating, your hand scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I’m gonna go then-”

“Wait.” You stop yourself from turning. “You don't have to keep doing that,”

“Doing what?” You raise a brow, with your mask off and Miguel in front of you, he can clearly see your slightly smug face.

“That. Bringing me food. I don't need it,” Miguel finally pries his eyes away from the tablet, now meeting yours. 

You chuckle. “Last time I checked, you're still human Miguel,”

“I can do that myself,” He steps towards you, which makes you pull up your hands defensively. 

“Alright, sure boss, but you only eat when your body forces you. That can't be healthy,” You huff, crossing your arms and meeting his deep reds. He backs down, looking towards the far wall. 

Great, an argument instead of him just agreeing with me, You sighs, looking down at the concrete floor. What were you thinking? Miguel can take care of himself, of course, he’s a fucking old man and you probably disrupted his old man metabolism or some shit like that.

“I- Thanks.” Your perk up, quickly meeting his still-averting eyes. “That's what I wanted to say. Thanks,”

You smirk. ”Yeah, of course, Miguel,” 

“Maybe… You can let Lyla take over, or someone, and uh…” Shit, maybe this is too bold…

Fuck it. “Join me for lunch, sometime?”

It was a mistake. The deafening silence was clearly a loud rejection from Miguel and you wanted to quickly blurt out something, anything to salvage what you had before, but he beat you to it.

“Sure, sometime,” You whip your head around, almost smacking with how close Miguel and you were standing. His eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smirk across his lips and it made you gulp.

“Y-yeah, sometimes, yeah,” His brow quirks a bit when you start stumbling your way through his lair. “I should uh- I think Gwen called me so uh-” 

The last thing he saw from you was your stuttering word and your body turning the corner of his office, then a loud ‘Fuck yeah!’ before you disappeared. Truly a wonder how you, out of anyone, managed to pique Miguel’s interest. 

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[jishyucks]

Groceries are Overrated — ldh

‣ pairing: supermarket worker!haechan x customer!reader

‣ genre: fluff, strangers-to-lovers?, sorta slice-of-life

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: After multiple encounters, you develop a crush on the boy working at your local supermarket. And who knows? Maybe the feeling is mutual.

‣ warnings?: nothing too bad I think!, mentions of hyuck breaking his pinky finger LMAO, jokes of plans to stalk/kidnap (false accusations)

‣ an: uhhhh tell me how I made an entire fic that’s set in a mf grocery store (˶x     x˶);; it genuinely was only supposed to be like 2k or less,, this is how u know that I romanticize EVERYTHING (sigh imagine how easy life would be if situations like these existed)

‣ taglist: @flowerjun @mosviqu

Your roommate, Karina, had the knack of sending you out to the grocery store against your will. In fact, you couldn't even recall how many times it had occurred in the last month. It feels like you’ve dropped by the store every day on the way home and you’re beginning to think that the employees believe you’re crazy.

But, in all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. After all, no one could resist the taste of your cooking and baking.

So here you were, moving up and down the seemingly endless aisles of the store on a mission to locate cream of tartar for your meringue cookies. 

It was odd because you’d usually find the powder alongside the sugars and spices in a bag or container like salt and pepper. Today, it was nowhere to be found, not even the price tag stuck to the shelves that indicated that it was there, just not in stock.

You sigh and slowly make your way down the aisles, laying your eye on every single item sitting on the shelves. Other customers looked at you like you were crazy, occasionally stretching your neck or lowering yourself into a squatting position just to view the bottom shelves. But at this point, you honestly could not give two shits if you looked looney.

“Did you lose something?” A pair of feet appear in front of you in the middle of your squat. You freeze and look up to see an employee looking down at you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, “I’ve seen you go up and down the store like… a lot of times.” 

Your eyes widen and laugh sheepishly. Standing up, you shake your head, “Um, actually I was looking for the cream of tartar! I can’t… seem to find it.”

“In the cereal section?” 

Now that you’re up and standing, you get a better look of the worker in front of you and you recognize him as one of the newer employees of the store. You can only say this with full confidence because you’ve been acquainted with a majority of the staff and most, if not, all were older than forty. This employee, you would say, was around your age. You take a quick glance at his name tag and read it. 

Donghyuck.

“You never know!” You laugh again, this time wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole before the (actually really cute) boy could reply to you. How could you embarrass yourself like this?

Donghyuck lets out a short snort, “It’s in aisle six, you know, with the sugars and spices?” 

It takes you a second to realize that you’re currently in aisle 23. “I looked! I swear it wasn’t there!”

He grins, “Then let me take you.” 

The boy begins walking away from you and you trail not too far behind him. If Donghyuck miraculously brings you to the cream of tartar, you’re going to think that the universe is against you.

He walks about three paces in front of you, strides slightly longer than yours. Although you both did not know each other, you found it a bit awkward walking in silence. “Just a random thought but are you a new worker here?”

Donghyuck slows down and turns to look at you, playing off of your question, “What are you, the owner of this place?” 

“No,” You shake your head and laugh, “I just know a lot of the employees here because I go here a lot.” 

“Ah, makes sense,” Donghyuck hums, “I just started working here last week. My grandma works here and I needed extra money so she got me this job.” 

You make a sound of acknowledgment. This time, you decide to joke, “Ohhh, so you’re a nepo baby! So what do you do? Roam the aisles?” 

He gives you a look, but it’s quickly wiped off of his face when he goes to answer you, “I sorta do everything, so if you do go here a lot, you’ll be seeing me everywhere—ah, here we are.” Donghyuck shuffles over to the rows of spices and uses his finger to follow his place. 

“See, it’s not—”

“Found it!” Donghyuck bends down and snatches a bag of cream of tartar. Then, he turns to hand it over to you, the corners of his lips sitting high on his cheeks. 

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to end the interaction.

“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck nods, “Well, it was nice meeting you, loyal customer, but I have to go back to whatever I was doing. I’ll see you around!” Before you even get to bid him goodbye, Donghyuck spins on the balls of his feet and starts making his way back to the last aisles.

You’re left thinking how you actually hope to see more of him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s once in a blue moon that you go to the grocery store for a reason other than ingredients and food. Today, you’re set on finding a plant or two to liven up your apartment. The only problem was you genuinely did not know what plant best suited you and Karina.

You have your phone out, searching up the plant names you can barely read from the name tags. Being that you were in the garden centre of the store, the sun was beating down against your forehead and you’re really wishing that you can find some plants and leave so you can get back to your air-conditioned home. 

Your goal was to find a plant that could thrive without direct sunlight, given that your apartment didn’t receive sunlight all day, and one that might be a bit neglected due to yours and Karina’s busy schedules.

Francee Hosta. You read, a flowering perennial plant. Lavender blooms in the late Summer. Grows tall, 28 inches. Great for landscaping and can fill empty space well. Best in part to full shade.

“Good competitor,” you say under your breath. Mentally, you put a star on the plant and move on, hoping to gather as many options as you can. You’re not even halfway down the entirety of the garden centre so you’re fully confident that you’ll find one, but you just wish that it was actually easier finding the plant you wanted.

You move on, positioning yourself right beside the next plant you intend to research. It resembled a small aloe vera, only each ‘leaf’ was adorned with white stripes. From where you stood, the plant's name tag remained frustratingly out of sight, perched on top of the high racks. 

Letting out a frustrated groan, you stretch yourself as much as you can, reaching for the plant. Balancing on your tippy toes, you strain to touch the pot's glass edge, but it remains just out of your fingertips' reach. 

Before you can fully process the situation, a hand swiftly reaches for the same pot, snatching it away from you, “A zebra plant?”

Falling back on your heels, you turn to find Donghyuck holding the small plant in his hands, “Out of all the plants here, you want a zebra plant?” He holds it out for you to take, which you only do because you’re thrown off by his sudden appearance.

You completely ignore his question and ask him one of your own, “You again?” 

“Like I said, I do a bit of everything,” Donghyuck shrugs, “Wait, but I work here, I should be asking you that question.” 

“I’m trying to look for like two houseplants,” you say, “What’s the problem with zebra plants?” You frown at the poor plant in front of you, getting attacked for absolutely no reason.

“Nothing, there’s just way better ones than it,” Donghyuck snickers. 

You frown, “Well, since you seem to know more about plants than me, can you help me?” You turn to place the plant back. But when Donghyuck notices this, he quickly takes it out of your hands and places it back onto its spot. 

“Of course, of course,” he smiles. And just like a few days before, he starts leading you down the garden centre, eyeing the plants, “Well, what sort of plant are you looking for?”

You explain everything to him, “But I think I prefer smaller plants since my place has limited space.” 

He hums and files through his limited knowledge of plants, “I actually don’t know.”

“I thought you knew things about plants!” Your blink at him, mouth agape, “Why did you even ask me what I was looking for if you didn’t know what I was even talking about?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “I do but because of the tags.” He reaches over and plucks out the name tags you’ve been using to do research on. Then he flips it around revealing a bulleted list of the plant’s features, “I was going to help you look for one.” 

How the hell did you not see the list in the first place?

“What the fuck,” you say, “That’s been there this whole time?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t been using these to pick the plants out!?” Donghyuck sucks his teeth and shakes his head as if he was disappointed in you. 

You defend yourself, huffing, “To be fair they’re not as visible as they should be.”

Donghyuck hums, “The more you know. How ‘bout I start over there and you continue from where I found you and we meet in the middle?”

You nod, “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you take about half an hour looking for plants, taking the job more seriously than it actually was. You could already predict that one out of the two plants may possibly be dead in two weeks, but it’s the thought that counts. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck approaches you with a plant in hand. Its leaves spill out of the pot, connected to the long, growing stems, “I think this one would be pretty. It’s one of those plants you can hang from the ceilings and it matches what you’re looking for.” 

You take the plant from him and hold it up, taking in its appearance, “I actually like it. I’ll take this one.” 

He nods and takes it back, “Did you find one?” 

You nod, too, showing him the plant you had chosen but sat on a nearby platform, “It looks like an average plant but it should do. Thanks for the help by the way.”

“It’s no problem,” Donghyuck shrugs, “This is the most boring position yet.”

The two of you start walking toward the entrance back into the actual store, passing by other customers, “Really? How many other positions have you worked?”

“This and the one from the other day,” Donghyuck snorts.

You’re genuinely surprised with how well you and Donghyuck can converse despite only meeting once before this. But you like to think it’s a skill you picked up from speaking to the other workers, “You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not,” he shakes his head, “Boring-est so far.” 

Once you two reach the entrance, he halts, “I’ll see you around?” Donghyuck realizes he’s still holding one of your plants and he gingerly hands it over to you. 

“You know it.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Karina’s grip around your wrist is so tight that you feel the circulation failing to reach your fingertips. She’s dragging you down the sidewalk, walking at pace way too fast from your usual, “I promise you I’ll be quick. You can just sit at those benches at the front if you want.”

You groan, taking into account the fact that Karina’s begged one too many times to go to the grocery store with her, “Fine. But if you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving.” You can’t say no to your best friend completely, not when you know that her time of month’s coming up and she needs to stock up for her cravings and toiletries. 

“Wait, no! I need you to help me carry stuff,” Karina pouts. You both reach the front entrance and now she’s stopped, not ready to go in until she’s satisfied with a plan. 

You sigh, but in a loving way, almost as if you were a mom giving in to her kid’s wants, “Fine. I’ll wait for you.”

She lights up and claps, “Great! Okay you can sit and just wait until I’m about to go for cash.”

You nod, watching her jog in and leaving you to dawdle in not long after. 

“Hello! Good afternoon!”

It was almost a jumpscare hearing that voice, not expecting it to be the first thing you would encounter walking in. Usually the greeter was an older man who was working part-time despite retiring from his old job, but today, it was the very same boy you’ve run into during your two previous visits.

“A greeter?” You snort. 

Donghyuck puts his arms up in defense, “I told you I did everything.”

“Yeah but I didn’t think greeter would be part of that list.” Suddenly, you forget about your desire to sit at the metal bench by the bathrooms.

“Me neither, but here I am,” he shrugs, “What are you doing here?” The question was odd because it’s one you wouldn’t normally ask customers at a supermarket, but Donghyuck thinks it’s perfectly okay to ask you the question because it was your third time that week going to the store.

“My roommate needs things,” you say simply, “Is this position better than the plants?”

“I get to stand here and do basically nothing,” Donghyuck nods, eyes widening, “I get why Mr. June likes it.” 

“Where is he anyway?” You question.

Shrugging, Donghyuck leans against the high counter he was standing behind, “Personal day or something? I’m not too sure.” 

You hum, “Well at least he’s getting the break he needs.”

There’s a brief silence before Donghyuck gasps, brows escalating to the top of his forehead, “I just remembered!”

“Remembered what?” You don’t recall anything that you and Donghyuck have spoken about. 

“This is… weird? But I’ve never asked you for your name,” Donghyuck points out. It’s just now that you realized that he actually hasn’t asked for your name. You both just started speaking to each other as if you knew each other, so introducing yourself never even crossed your mind, “I mean… I think you know mine because of my name tag, but I don’t know yours.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “What if this is some ploy for you to stalk me?” You playfully take a step back and eye him down, “And what if your name isn’t really Donghyuck?”

“I’m not gonna stalk you,” Donghyuck he whines, “And my name really is Donghyuck! You can ask my grandma!”

You let out a laugh and sigh, “I know, I was joking. My name’s Y/N.” 

Before Donghyuck can process everything, he gasps, “Are you the Y/N grandma talks about?” He brings his hand up to his head and runs his hand through his hair, “The Y/N that had to bake for practically an entire village of people?”

“So your Grandma is Mrs. Lee?” You don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that your heart warms up at the fact that Donghyuck was related to Mrs. Lee, who was probably the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. 

You think it was good because Donghyuck seemed to be close to his grandma, enough for her to get him a job and enough for him to know stories from work—it could really reflect the kind of person Donghyuck was. But now, thinking it through, it could be bad because there was no way you were developing a small crush on a boy you’ve only met twice before today. 

“That’s her,” He nods and allows for a child-like smile to surface on his face, “She’s the best right?”

You almost let out an audible ‘aww’ because of the way you can tell that he was probably a grandma’s boy. You nod, “She is. I should’ve put two and two together.”

His head tilts to the side, “What do you mean?”

“When she’s on cash, she talks about her grandson being a ray of sunshine,” you say. For some reason you suddenly feel shy as you speak to Donghyuck, “She says ‘I just know Hyuckie is going to be such a great man one day!’ I don’t know why it didn’t click that Hyuckie comes from Donghyuck.” 

Donghyuck blushes at the nickname, attempting to use his bangs to hide, “So she talks about me too?” You nod. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“She hasn’t said anything super embarrassing,” you tease, “The worst one was probably how you were in a rush to get home after an exam just to play video games and you cried cause you broke you broke your pinky. I found it funny but it wasn’t too bad.” 

Donghyuck’s jaw drops in the slightest, “She told you about that?” 

You nod and giggle, “Can I see your pinky?”

“Sorry I don’t usually show it on first dates,” Donghyuck peeks at you at the corner of his eyes and smirks. 

You facepalm, “That sounds so wrong.” You want to laugh but you hold it back, not wanting to give Donghyuck the satisfaction.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you doing your job?” From your right, the voice of Mrs. Lee calls out to her grandson, a delightful blend of playfulness and a touch of seriousness. 

Following the direction, you greet Mrs. Lee with a bow, waving at her before turning back to Donghyuck with hands to your hips, “Yeah, Donghyuck, are you doing your job?”

“Y/N’s distracting me!” He responds in a childlike manner, and Mrs. Lee simply shakes her head in response, a faint smile gracing her lips. As she turns away, you spot Karina waddling down from a cash register with four bags filled to the brim with different things. 

“Y/N!” She calls. She uses her head to gesture to the bags. By this time, she’s standing by the exit, setting two bags down at her feet for you to carry. 

“I have to go,” you say to Donghyuck, “I’ll probably see you the next time I come here, right?”

He nods, “It’s likely.”

“Well, see you Donghyuck!” you turn and wave, “Or should I say, Hyuckie.”

Rolling his eyes, he waves back before quickly flipping you off, but instead of his middle finger, it’s his pinky. You respond with a good-natured shake of your head, gathering the bags in front of you. With a nod to Karina, the two of you make your way out, leaving the lighthearted scene behind. 

“Bye, Y/N.” 

It’s good to finally have a name to your face.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

True to Karina’s suspicions, her period started the day after her cravings. 

And when Karina gets her period, she gets sick. And when she gets sick, you take this as your cue to go to the grocery store to gather ingredients for the special stomach-hugging soup your mom taught you to cook growing up. It was something that you both looked forward to every month despite Karina not being at her best condition.

The produce today wasn’t up to par as it usually was. All were stacked rather messily, making it difficult for you to filter through the veggies. You’re only surprised because in the amount of times you’ve gone to the supermarket, there has not been one day that it organized this poorly. 

“This is like your… fourth time in the last ten days or something?” The voice sounds from behind you, “Just tell me you miss me and go.” 

You turn to see Donghyuck with a cart of banana-filled boxes and it all suddenly makes sense to you, “Why would I miss you?” You turn your attention back to the bok choy sitting to your right and rummage through the pre-filled bags.

“It happens more than you think,” he shrugs, “Reason this time?”

You find a bag that seems pretty good and you plop it into your basket, “My roommate’s sick so I’m making her soup.” 

“Mmm,” Donghyuck hums, “The weather lately has been making me crave hot pot, so soup sounds so good right now.”

“Now you’re making me crave it,” You feel your mouth water at the thought of hot pot on this cool, rainy afternoon and sigh, “But I think my soup’s better than hot pot. Any. Day.”

He scoffs, “I don’t believe you. Nothing can beat hot pot nowadays. Not even kimchi jjigae.” Donghyuck pushes and pulls at the banana cart as if it were a baby in a stroller, “Thank you.”

Your brows furrow, “For what?”

“Now I know what I’m eating for dinner later.” His grin forms a taut line, “Hot pot.” 

You begin making your way to the potatoes, grabbing those thin plastic bags on the way. To your surprise, Donghyuck follows you. You look at him, “Are you sure you aren’t the one who misses me?” “You wish,” he laughs, “I just need to stand still just for one minute at least. Produce clerk has to be the worst. But I do like talking to you.” Donghyuck shifts back and forth on his feet, “Anyway, what is this soup you’re making?” “See you do miss me!” You pick out three decently-sized potatoes and gently drop them into your bag, “It’s a family recipe and it doesn’t really have a name to it. We just call it stomach-hugging soup.”

“There’s a clear difference between me missing you and me liking talking to you,” Donghyuck grumbles, “We barely know each other but it’s just so easy talking to you. That’s why.” The way he nonchalantly says this takes you aback but you try to play it off, this time moving on to some nearby taro roots. 

“Whatever you say, Hyuckie,” you retort. Though he was right. It’s never been this easy for you to talk to someone, better yet, a boy. 

“Hey! That nickname is reserved for special people only!” 

“I’m a special person, aren’t I?” you joke, but quickly wave it off, “Don’t worry, I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” 

Repeating your steps from both the bok choy and the potatoes, Donghyuck watches you quietly with a smile that’s so gentle that it would lull a newborn to sleep. You don’t notice this, though, because your mind is distracted by how ungodly big the taro roots are.

“I need to… get back to stacking these bananas but,” Donghycuk gulps, “It would be cool if I could taste this special soup one day.”

You turn to him, and smile, eyes bright at the idea, “Of course. One day.”

He waves and saunters down toward the front of the produce section.

Once he’s gone, you try to make sense as to what Donghyuck was trying to imply. Friends outside of this weird new relationship you both have? Something more than that? You’re not too sure of anything and there was no way you were jumping to conclusions.

Before your thoughts start to eat at you, you shake your head to rid of them all, and along with it, the idea of the small lingering crush (that’s truly starting to develop) on this boy.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It isn’t until one week later that you return to the supermarket. The reason this time was that you and Karina were truly out of groceries for once (which honestly was not surprising). 

It would be a terrible lie if you said you hadn’t thought of Donghyuck at least once within the last week, wondering how he was doing while constantly being put into different positions at work. You hoped that he wasn’t put onto the floor as a produce clerk like he had been the last time you saw him, both for his sake and for the sake of the store. 

It was late at night when you finally found the time to visit the store, much later than your usual trips. By this hour, the store had bid farewell to the bustling moms and their screaming children, leaving only adults who had dropped by after school or work, much like yourself.

It would also be a terrible lie if you said you weren’t wondering if Donghyuck was here today. 

You grab a rolling basket on the way in, greeting Mr. June when you pass him at the front. You go down the store aisle by aisle while grabbing everything you’ve listed down in your mental list. Occasionally, you brought your phone out to look if you’ve missed any of Karina needed, a screenshot of her text appearing last in your photos. 

You spend an hour or two going through the list, part of which was you comparing two different products to see which one would help you save money. 

Your third terrible lie of the night would be if you said you weren’t jerking your head toward any other person who entered the aisle hoping it would be Donghyuck. 

It was so stupid because this very boy only found out what your name was not too long ago. You’ve only met this boy four other times. And you barely knew anything about him except for the small tidbits you picked up through conversations with him or with Mrs. Lee. 

And this leads you to your fourth (and hopefully, last) terrible lie of the night—that you weren’t disappointed when you didn’t run into Donghyuck during your time at the store. 

You sigh as you load your things onto the conveyor belt, sorting them with pairs or other like things so it would be easier for you to carry everything. In your head, you’re already planning out how you were supposed to carry everything on your own. You’ve done it before, so you can (while harnessing the power of the universe) do it again. 

“This is a lot of stuff.”

You freeze at the voice and you finally look up, finding that Donghyuck was, in fact, your cashier. 

He immediately reads the shock in your facial expression and snorts, “Everything, remember? How’s your night doing?” Donghyuck starts scanning your items, sliding them from one side to the other.

You shrug, “Tiring… Do your shifts usually go ‘til this hour?” 

Donghyuck shakes his head, “Not typically, but I’m filling in for someone today. One of the other employees got sick so I stepped up like the good person I am.” He flashes a proud expression, and you can't help but chuckle at his confidence, “Anyways, where do you live?”

“What?” you laugh nervously, “I swear you suck at hiding your intentions of stalking me.” 

Donghyuck quickly takes back his question, realizing that he worded it all wrong and it being taken out of context was not good look at all. “No no! It’s not that, but…” How can he put this in a non-stalkery way? “My shift is almost done… you have a lot of things to carry… I would like to walk you home?” He cringes at the way it comes out as a question but it’s too late now. 

“Okay, if you’re not going to stalk me,” you think, “What if you kidnap me?”

"I promise, no kidnapping plans here," Donghyuck replies with a playful grin. "I'm a certified good guy, I swear!" Unbeknownst to you, he intentionally slows down his scanning, making sure that he has more time to chat with you (just in case you didn’t agree to his proposal). It's been a week since he last saw you, and this supermarket seems to be the only place where you both get a chance to talk. Besides, there was no one else in line.

There’s this very feeling in your chest that’s practically yelling at you to trust him, so you do, “It’s about two blocks down. It’s not too far, it’s a good eight minute walk.”

“I’ll meet you at the front then?” 

Not even ten minutes later, Donghyuck meets you right where he suggested. He isn’t wearing the vest the employees wore as uniforms. Instead, he’s thrown on a dark hoodie. He picks up your bags, “Let me take those for you~” 

“Didn’t see you coming,” you say, “I can carry one, you know.” You can't deny feeling a hint of nervousness. This marked the first time you were going to interact with Donghyuck beyond the supermarket setting. It's hard not to wonder if your dynamic is shifting from a mere employee-customer relationship to something more meaningful—even if it was just a friendship.

“It’s okay, I insist,” Donghyuck smiles, “Let’s go! Lead the way.”

You stand up and you lead him out the door. You begin taking your route home and Donghyuck quickens his steps to keep up with you, “So, what you’ve been up to the past week?”

A pleasant breeze blows past you both and you turn your head to reply to him just as you’re stopped at a red light, “I’ve just been busy with school and some other responsibilities. I only found time to go to the store after school today.”

“Ah, your load must be heavier than mine,” Donghyuck makes a sound of recognition, “I only have morning classes and then I’m free for the day.” 

“You’re lucky,” you laugh, “Mine usually runs the whole day because my faculty’s suckass at scheduling… but it is what it is, I guess.”

The light switches and you’re both allowed to cross. There are only a few cars waiting to go, which emphasizes how late in the night it actually is. “Well at least you’re holding up,” Donghyuck grins, “You still have time for cooking and what not.”

You nod, “That’s true, you’re right.” 

The conversation between you two unfolds with familiar ease, similar to your convos at the supermarket. Donghyuck brings up Mrs. Lee, questioning about how you came to know his grandmother. You share your story with him, detailing the moments and conversations that led to your connection.

“Are you close with your grandma?” You ask out of curiosity.

“She practically raised me because my parents were mostly out at work,” Donghyuck explains, “Now that she’s a little bit older, I still go over to her place and help around the house. She’s at retirement age, but she likes being busy. So I let her be busy at work and tell her to relax when she’s at home.”

Your heart swells at Donghyuck’s relationship with Mrs. Lee and a slight surge of emotion wells up within you. It really wasn’t helping with the crush you were trying to conceal, not when Donghyuck seemed like a genuinely great guy. 

“I think that’s really sweet of you.” You feel the corners of your mouth rise to your cheekbones, “I bet she appreciates it. She seems to really love you, so there’s no doubt that she does.” 

You finally reach your place and Donghyuck realizes this when you slow to a halt. He can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that your place isn't farther from the store. Nevertheless, he holds onto the hope that he'll have more opportunities to walk you home in the future. 

You retrieve your bags from his hands and you don’t notice the way his breath hitches at your proximity. “Thanks for walking me home and carrying my bags. Are you fine getting home?” 

Donghyuck nods, “I actually live pretty close, believe it or not, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you around?” It seems like this was something you’ve been saying to each other a lot.

“Of course and thank you again,” you say, “Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

As you begin to turn away, Donghyuck's gaze lingers on you. Despite it not being your last encounter with him, in that moment, a sense of urgency washes over him, realizing that this might be a pivotal moment. It feels like this decision could only be made now or never.

“Wait!” He calls out. It comes out embarrassingly louder than intended. He swears he could hear his voice echo down the street. 

You pause and turn to face Donghyuck, looking back at him curiously, "Yeah?" There are so many thoughts running through your head, only you couldn’t pick them out for the life of you. 

Donghyuck starts jogging to catch up with you, his footsteps rhythmically hitting the pavement. "I... actually have a question," he says, his voice slightly breathless. "It's been on my mind for the past week."

You meet his gaze with an expectant look, raising your eyebrows and giving a nod, encouraging him to continue.

“This sounds weird but,” his palm finds the nape of his neck and he’s suddenly (extremely) nervous to even be standing in front of you, “I think I like you… and I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date some…time? It’s okay if no, but I just figured that since we get along well that it was worth try—”

“I would love to.” 

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” you retort, giggling under your breath, “I’m actually kinda relieved you made the first move.”

A rush of excitement surges through Donghyuck, and he's almost overwhelmed with the urge to jump for joy, “I’ll plan something out and let you know, if that’s okay? I didn’t think I would actually get this far.” He feels his cheeks heat up out of embarrassment.

“Take your time,” you snort, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Okay! I promise you I will not disappoint!” he exclaims, “Goodnight, Y/N. For real this time.” 

You offer a wordless response, shuffling closer to Donghyuck before rising onto your toes to plant a gentle peck on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

(And you best know Donghyuck went home that night skipping, excited to tell his grandma everything the next day.) 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you for reading! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Pls support my fic by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 2: The Jailhouse]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, historical topics including war and discrimination, smoking, blasphemy, kids, parenthood, alcoholism, y'all know exactly who is in jail come on now, Pizza Hut, a wild ex-husband appears!

Word Count: 7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @eltherevir @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @aemonddtargaryen @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees

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Amir is sitting at the kitchen table and icing peach cobbler cupcakes; he has a single white flower from a dogwood tree poked through one of his cornrows. He wears a short sleeve button-up shirt with a kaleidoscopic geometric pattern, high-waisted khaki shorts, and eyeglasses with large rectangular, tortoiseshell frames. He has one leg crossed over the other and is kicking it absentmindedly as he works, a habit he’s had since long before you met him in your 9th grade English class. The microwave is humming. Walk This Way is blaring from the little pink boombox.

“Ho, I mean it this time, I gotta get the hell out of this town.” Amir uses a fork to place a small peach wedge—sauteed in butter, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla—atop the swirl of buttercream frosting, then sprinkles the cupcake with cinnamon before moving on to the next. “Guess what some inbred neanderthal swamp creature did last night. They busted a window out of my car again.”

“I told you to take that thing off it.” Amir has a homemade bumper sticker on his Ford Escort that reads, in holographic rainbow cursive: Fuck Ronald Reagan (not literally)!

“That war criminal can let 50,000 people die of AIDS but I belong on America’s Most Wanted for exercising my First Amendment rights?”

“I know you’re not wrong. You know you’re not wrong. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“To be afraid is to behave as if the truth were not true. Bayard Rustin said that.”

“And I’m sure he was a very smart man, but he didn’t have to live in Napoleonville.” The microwave beeps, and you remove the sweet potato inside with an oven mitt and place it on the counter alongside the others. This is a trick you’ve learned: they’re so much easier to peel and slice once they’ve been microwaved a bit, thirty seconds for a small potato, one minute for a larger one. “You want me to ask Willis to do a stakeout or something?”

“He might be the one committing vandalism.”

You frown down at the sweet potatoes as you peel them over the cutting board and toss the skins into a bowl so Cadi can feed them to the squirrels later. You doubt Willis is responsible, but one of his friends very well could be.

Amir sighs, acquiescing, wistful. “Six months from now I’ll be in San Francisco.” Yes, he will; he’s been saving up for years. The thought of him leaving is practically apocalyptic. You can’t envision a future without Amir. It’s like the very worst version of when you’re a kid and some event—Christmas, your birthday, summer break, prom—is so glimmeringly monumental that whatever life will exist beyond it is incomprehensible, a haze of other people’s dreams and warnings. Surely you won’t exist in that timeline; surely you will dissolve away once that fateful checkpoint is reached and become nothing but sun and sand.

You don’t tell Amir any of this. You don’t want to make him feel guilty. Instead you tease: “You sure you don’t want to stay and get a job on one of those shiny new oil rigs?”

He laughs as he pipes buttercream frosting onto the last peach cobbler cupcake. His artistic talents far surpass yours, but you bring the baking techniques and recipe ideas. Still, you have always split the bakery profits—however meager they might be—equally. “Yes, how could I possibly pass up the opportunity to lose half my skin in an explosion caused by company negligence? Or inhale toxic fumes, or have my limbs ripped off, or fracture my skull? Or fall off a platform in the middle of the night and be eaten by a gator before anyone bothers to fish me out? I will surely regret all my life choices when I’m lying on the beach in Pacifica next to my new boyfriend who looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

The front door opens. It’s Mr. Fontenot, the town pharmacist. You call out: “Hi there! Come right on in! We’ve got your cake ready. Blue velvet with marshmallow cream and topped with candied blueberries. We read up on how to make them just for you. So thank you kindly for the learning opportunity.”

Since you’re wrist-deep in sweet potatoes, Amir leaps up to retrieve the box. He opens it so Mr. Fontenot can inspect his order. “When you cut into it, you’ll see that it’s a dark royal blue on the inside. Cookie Monster blue, not robin egg blue, just like you wanted.”

“Will ya look at that,” Mr. Fontenot says, beaming down at the cake. Written across the marshmallow cream in blue icing is (in Amir’s most elegant script): Happy 8th Birthday, Corey! “My grandson is going to get such a kick out of a blue cake.”

“He sure is,” Amir agrees. “Now can I talk you into anything else for the party? Some peach cobbler cupcakes, perhaps? Praline brownies? A brown sugar pie? Homemade Fruity Pebbles Rice Krispie Treats? Kids love them…!”

You say once Mr. Fontenot has gone: “He works for the company, you know.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Aemond. He works for Jade Dragon. He’s an engineer.”

“Ho, you are obsessed with that man!” Amir says. “You’ve brought him up, like, four times already!”

“Yeah,” you confess, a humiliation that is futile to deny. Parts of you are still sore from what he did to you; other places are aching for more.

“And you didn’t even get to see the dick?!”

You shake your head as you cut the peeled sweet potatoes into haphazard chunks. Amir puts a pot of water on the stove so you can boil them until they’re soft enough to mash into filling for a sweet potato pie. “Didn’t see it, didn’t touch it…”

“Didn’t lick it, didn’t suck it?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Dr. Seuss. But no.”

“Secret dick, scar on his face, missing an eye…” Amir mutters. “Maybe he’s a veteran who lost his andouille in combat! Yes! That’s it! He was there when we invaded Lebanon or Grenada or Libya and now he’s horribly disfigured and can’t bear the prospect of your inevitable horror and rejection!”

“His andouille is definitely unchopped. I could…uh…tell. Through his jeans.”

Amir closes his eyes and presses his palms together. “Sweet baby Jesus, please send me a gainfully employed big-dicked blonde man too.” He looks at you again. “But he really wouldn’t use it?!”

“Aemond said he wanted me to trust him first.”

“Maybe he doesn’t trust you. Maybe he thinks you might be on the prowl for Shotgun Wedding #2. You should tell him he’s got nothing to worry about in that department. You’ve been on the pill practically since Cadi was born.”

You murmur: “And I will be forever.”

“I know,” Amir says gently, pausing to squeeze your shoulder before taking the sweet potato hunks you’ve sliced already and dropping them in the boiling water. “So! When are you going to call him?”

You startle. “I can’t call him! I called him the first time. Now it’s his turn to call me. I can’t call him again, that would be desperate. Right?” Right?!

“Does he even know your number?”

“He knows my name, and he knows about the bakery. The number is publicly listed, he can find me in the phone book.”

Amir groans. “Lord have mercy, just call him! Pick up that pink phone right there beside the refrigerator and press those cute little buttons and say, loud and proud: Come on over here, big boy, I want to see that traumatized war veteran dick.”

The phone rings. You trip over your own feet as you lunge for it.

Amir snickers. “Pathetic!” He takes over slicing the rest of the sweet potatoes.

“Hello?!”

You hear a deep, slothful drawl; Willis’ family have been bayou people for longer than the United States has been a country. “Hey sugar, you want to bring your favorite ex-husband some dessert?”

You sigh. “Hi, Willis.” From across the kitchen, Amir makes retching noises.

“So what’d ya say? I just had a late lunch and got to thinkin’ of you. Gave me a sweet tooth.”

“Um, I don’t know, we’re really busy right now.” Amir snorts; you’ve had three customers in the last hour. There’s usually a rush first thing each morning and then again around closing time.

“Ya ain’t got time for me? Well, alrighty then. Maybe I won’t have time for you when you need a wild hog chased off your porch or a flat tire changed out there on Route 401.”

This is the eternal dilemma, the balance you wrestle with like a boat in a storm: not making him angry, not letting him get too close. You and Willis don’t have a formal agreement for custody or child support. You’ve worked it out yourselves, and he typically doesn’t make it too difficult. You’ve always felt that appeasement is the wisest course of action. As the elected sheriff of Assumption Parish, Willis Boudreaux is responsible for all criminal investigations, court proceedings, and tax collecting. Even when he was just a deputy, he had plenty of friends at the little white courthouse in the heart of downtown Napoleonville. You’re better off working with him than against him. “Okay, fine, I guess I have a few minutes. What do you want?”

“Why don’t you make a professional recommendation?”

You glance irritably at the kitchen table. “We have brown sugar pie, peach cobbler cupcakes, praline brownies, lemon blueberry cookies, uh, I’ve got half a strawberries and cream cake left in the fridge…”

“Definitely the cake,” Willis says. “I love strawberries. Remember how you fed them to me on the beach when we went to Grand Isle?”

That was…what, eight years ago? Ugh. “Barely.” You like when Willis has a girlfriend; then he mostly leaves you alone. Tragically, he and his most recent fiancé Colleen broke up last month. “I’ll drive the cake over now.” You slam the phone receiver into the base before Willis can respond.

“Let’s kill him,” Amir says.

You laugh. “I’ll consider it.”

“We can feed him to that gator out in the tree row.”

You grab a flat white bakery box off the pile, fold it open, and fetch what remains of the strawberries and cream cake from the refrigerator. “You’ll get that sweet potato pie in the oven if I’m gone for a half hour?”

“Yup. Then I’ll start working on the brown butter oatmeal raisin cookies. Is the recipe…? Oh, I see it, it’s right here on the counter. Got it. Have fun with your awful ex-husband. You sure you don’t want to add a little something special to that cake? Windex? Rat poison? He sure looks like a rodent to me. That nose? Those eyebrows?!”

“Amir, he’s just French.”

“He should be exiled to Saint Helena.”

“I’m going to have to put my own ad in the Bayou Journal,” you say, smiling sadly. “Who’s going to run the shop with me when you’re in San Francisco?”

Amir winks. “Maybe your traumatized, half-blind, hung-like-a-horse war veteran knows how to bake.”

Outside, the gator is sunning herself by the gravel driveway. She’s only about five feet long and dozing with her muddy green eyes closed, jagged upper teeth on display, missing toes here and there, back scarred by boat motors. It’s 90 degrees and sunny, warmth flooding over your bare legs and arms: denim shorts, lime green tank top. You can hear cicadas, doves, chickadees, starlings, goldfinches, ospreys, the benign droning of bumble bees. You throw the white box in the passenger seat and start your Chevy Celebrity, yellow paint, wood paneling, brown velour upholstery. You crank down the windows—the air conditioning is broken, that’s one reason why Willis’ brother was willing to sell it to you so cheap—and turn on the radio: 867-5309 by Tommy Tutone. You pull out onto Route 401, headed northeast towards downtown Napoleonville.

You pass fields of sugarcane and soybeans, shacks and trailers, grass green like emeralds. The hot mid-May air, humid and stagnant, blows through your hair. If the ride was any longer than ten minutes, you’d have needed a cooler for the cake. You find a parking spot on the street outside the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office and grab the box containing half a strawberries and cream cake, probably just starting to get melty around the edges. Deputy Melancon is on his way out when you arrive. He holds the glass door open for you.

“Comment ca va, cherie? Is that for me? I hope so!”

“I think your boss would chew your arm off if you tried to get between him and this cake.”

Deputy Melancon guffaws as he ambles towards his police car. “Have fun in there! It’s a zoo today.”

“What…?” But now you can hear the noise coming from inside the building: howling, banging, Willis telling someone to sit down and shut up, his Cajun drawl lethargic and calm. Willis is not a yeller, and you’ve never witness him raise his hands in violence. The being a cop part of his job is the aspect he enjoys the least. But sitting around jawing with his deputies until long after midnight, regaling them with tales of supposed glory acquired while you were home with a screaming baby, scrubbing floors, fixing dinner, still bleeding eight weeks after birth, waiting—because it was all there was to look forward to—for him to walk through the door and shuffle to the couch and collapse there with an ice-cold can of Bud Light in his fist, dripping condensation down his sinewy forearm? That’s what Willis lives for.

Willis is at his desk and grudgingly plodding through an intake form. His sunglasses have been shoved up into his dark curly hair; his hat—which he loathes wearing—is resting atop a mountain of deserted paperwork. There’s a poster of Heather Locklear on the wall along with a dartboard with a cutout of Tommy Lee in the center. There’s a man in one of the three holding cells that you’ve hardly ever seen used. He has slicked-back blonde hair, an aristocratic wisp of a moustache, an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and tiny red shorts and thick foam rainbow-patterned flip flops. He’s the person responsible for the ruckus.

“I want my phone call!” the prisoner shouts as he beats his palms against the iron bars. “Hey! Hey, mullet boy! I want my fucking phone call!”

Oddly, the stranger has a British accent. Aemond? you think for a split second. But no; this man couldn’t possibly be related to Aemond. He is short, slouched, soft all over, uncoordinated and uncomposed, pathetic, petulant, innately pitiful. Willis ignores him. He speaks to you instead.

“Bienvenue, sugar. Ya got something sweet for me?”

Obediently—though not entirely willingly—you bring him the white box and set it on his disorganized desk. Willis produces a stack of Styrofoam plates and a Ziploc bag full of plastic eating utensils that he keeps stocked in a drawer specifically for such occasions. He opens the box and sighs euphorically, his eyes on the moist pink cake and layers of whipped cream frosting as if it’s the flesh of a naked woman.

“Hey!” the prisoner shouts, gripping the iron bars and pressing his flushed cheeks flat against them. “Hey! I like cake too!”

“Just what I needed,” Willis tells you, as if the man isn’t there. “Sit down, eat with me.”

“I really don’t have long.”

“Ya got five minutes, don’t you?”

I guess I do. You sit down but don’t take any cake. As Willis cuts himself a slice, you can’t help but watch the man in the holding cell. He stares back at you, a little ashamed, a little defiant, palpably weak. You ask Willis: “What did you book him for?”

“DWI,” Willis says with his mouth full of cake. “Driving While Intoxicated.”

“Huh. You don’t usually pick people up for that.”

Willis points at the prisoner with his fork for emphasis. “This one was very intoxicated.”

The man kicks the bars with his flip flops. “I want my fucking phone call!”

“Ya already used it,” Willis says pragmatically, and nods to something on the floor of the holding cell: an empty, grease-stained Pizza Hut box. The prisoner looks at it, regretful.

“I didn’t know I’d only get one,” he admits. “But also! You ate three slices of my pizza!”

Willis chuckles. “Consider it payin’ your taxes.” Then, to you: “It was tres bien. Meat Lover’s. Ya can’t argue with that.”

“Hey cake lady,” the prisoner says, his prominent eyes weepy, needful, a deep stormy blue. “Can I have a piece? Please? Please? I’m having a rough day here. My flip flops are giving me blisters and your redneck husband committed pizza theft. And I’m in jail.”

“Ex-husband,” you correct him.

“Good for you. Smart cake lady.”

Willis says: “You just settle down and I’ll drive you over to the parish jail as soon as I’m done with my dessert.” He shovels cake into his mouth; he eats like a gator, like a pig.

At last, you cut a portion of strawberries and cream cake—the whipped cream frosting turning thin and runny—and place it on a Styrofoam plate. Then you get up to take it to the prisoner. You have a soft spot for the freaks of the world. You and Amir, you know exactly what it’s like to be freaks.

“Don’t give him no fork or nothing,” Willis says around a mouthful of cake. “I can’t have him tryin’ to kill himself.”

“As if I’d give you the satisfaction, Sasquatch!” the prisoner flings back.

“It’s the Rougarou we got down here, son,” Willis replies, unbothered.

You set the plate on the beige linoleum floor close enough for the prisoner to reach out and drag it to his cell. When you step back, he retrieves the cake and eats it with his bare hands. “Oh, fuck, this is so good!”

You turn to Willis. “Cadi keeps mentioning some horseback riding camp that a bunch of her friends are going to this summer. Can we make that happen?”

“Are you kiddin’ me?! It’s over $300! That’s a new boat!”

“I think it would mean a lot to her.”

“Tell her if she grows her hair back out, maybe she can go next year.” Willis licks pink cake crumbs from his fork. “Why the hell’d she ever get it cut like that?”

You shrug, irritated. “Because she wanted to.”

“Never wears no skirts or dresses, doesn’t care about jewelry, always got dirt on her face…ain’t she gonna want a boyfriend in a few years? Who’s gonna take her out lookin’ like that? Who’s gonna marry her one day?”

“She’s ten years old, Willis.”

“She’s been spending too much time with your little friend, that’s the problem.”

You glare furiously at him, but are interrupted before you can say something unwise. The man in the holding cell has finished his slice of cake. He sucks frosting off his chubby fingers and then yanks on the iron bars in vain. “I gotta go home! I gotta feed my ferret!”

“Guess ya should have thought about that before driving 70 miles per hour in a school zone, Mr.…” Willis glances at the intake form to refresh his memory. “Targaryen. What the heck is that, Italian? Polish? It ain’t French, that’s for sure.”

“It’s Greek, you dumb hick.”

Willis jabs his plastic fork at him. “You oughta watch that, son, or you’ll catch yourself a nasty case of what the liberals call police brutality.”

“He’s a Targaryen?” you ask, stunned. The man in the cell peers back at you with large, ever-wounded, ocean-blue eyes, glassy but not entirely unintelligent.

“So what?” Willis says.

“Willis, those are the oil people. Jade Dragon, the new rigs on Lake Verret? The Targaryens own that company.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” he marvels. “Really? This bon a rien right here, his family are a bunch of millionaires?”

“Yes. And you should probably let him make another phone call.”

“Yeah!” the prisoner says excitedly. “Listen to the cake lady!”

“Alright, alright,” Willis grumbles. “Guess I don’t need no legal trouble.” He picks up the phone off his desk and walks it to the holding cell; the cord stretches just far enough. “Make your damn phone call, gros couillion.”

Mr. Targaryen snatches up the receiver, punches some buttons, and listens as it rings. “Hi. Okay, don’t yell at me. Here’s the deal. I’m at the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office and I need you to pick me up. Wait, I said don’t yell at me! Stop yelling!!”

“I really need to get back to the bakery,” you tell Willis as you make for the door. “I’ll see you around, okay—?”

“Hey, sugar.” You stop and wait for him to finish. He’s considering you in that way he does sometimes: mild, thoughtful, vaguely sad, how’d we end up like this? He should know, you’ve told him a hundred times, but that doesn’t mean he understands. “I’m supposed to be gettin’ a new deputy next week. When he shows, I’ll send him down your way, recruit ya another customer. Charge him a little extra if you want. He won’t know no better.”

“Thanks, Willis,” you say, and you mean it. Then you step outside into sun glare and the shrieking of cicadas.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s almost dinnertime when the phone rings. You’re heating up the turtle soup that Amir brought over earlier, stirring the pot as the sky outside turns from a crystalline blue—just like Aemond’s eye—to rust and amber and fool’s gold, as the twilight air breathes into the room warm and ancient. There’s a plump nutria nibbling on grass at the edge of the backyard. Wham’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go pipes from the boombox. At first you’re too startled to race for the phone—too terrified that it won’t be Aemond, too afraid to get your hopes up—and you hesitate just long enough for Cadi to answer instead.

“Hello?” she says, and then: “Yeah, school was good.”

Everything sinks in you, heart, spirit, the sweltering pressure of blood ebbing in your veins. Oh. It’s Willis.

Cadi continues chatting away obliviously. “Uh huh. Not really. We learned about robber barons and cannons of Italy. Yeah, captains of industry, that’s what I meant. Uh huh. Yup. It was okay, I guess. Yeah. Today it was pizza, but it’s always shaped like a rectangle. Exactly, no crust. It’s weird. Pepperoni. I always sit with Michelle and Erica. Erica has this totally tubular book about horses she showed us. Yup. I like the Appaloosas the most. Uh huh. Okay, I will. Yup. Bye.” Then she hands you the phone. “For you,” she says, then resumes setting the counter: cups, bowls, spoons, folded Bounty paper towels, dinner for two. You never eat at the kitchen table. The table is reserved for business.

You raise the pink phone receiver to your ear with some uncertainty. What does he want now? “Willis?”

“No,” Aemond says, amused. “Though we’ve been to some of the same places.”

You try not to let the smile fill up your face. You fail. “You were asking Cadi about her day?”

“Evidently.” You don’t know what this means; you don’t ask. “When are you free?”

“I usually have the house to myself on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.” It’s currently Monday.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”

“I should be done in the bakery at around 5:00.”

“I’ll be there at 5:01.” Then Aemond hangs up. So do you, your skull suddenly abloom like springtime, colors and promise and warmth. He’s going to be here in less than 24 hours. I really am going to see him again.

You turn towards the counter. “Cadi, what are robber barons?”

“Rich people who are mean to their workers to get as much money as possible. They don’t care about others. They just want more and more and more. They’re very greedy and are never satisfied.”

“So like the Rockefellers and Standard Oil,” you say, thinking back to your high school American History class. It feels like a lifetime ago, it feels like trying to catch lightning bugs in your bare hands.

“Yeah.” Cadi pours herself a cup of Tang. She’s wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and green corduroy pants; her father would not approve. “Or Jade Dragon Energy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Tuesday, 5:03 p.m., rattling cicadas and golden light like the lit coil of a stove burner. You’re still scrubbing dishes, and Amir is icing the last of the orange creamsicle cupcakes for the next morning. Aemond opens the unlocked front door and strides purposefully into the kitchen: ripped jeans, red t-shirt, Converses to match, Marlboro jacket. He is carrying a neon teal duffle bag that he drops on the sloping wooden floor where the living room meets the kitchen. He is momentarily taken aback when he sees Amir, then recalls what you told him about your friend who helps run the bakery. Aemond pulls out one of the kitchen table chairs and sits. He lifts the glass lid from a cake plate, takes the last peach cobbler cupcake for himself, makes unflinching eye contact with you as he licks the frosting off it with long, slow, sensual drags of his tongue.

Amir says: “Hey Scarface, that’s $1.”

“Amir!” you scold, mortified. But Aemond doesn’t seem offended. He smirks, extracts his black leather wallet from the pocket his jeans, and fishes out four singles. He slides them across the table.

Amir sighs. “This bitch can’t even count.”

“I’m sure he can count,” you say, smiling. “He’s an engineer.”

“He’s mouth-fucking this cupcake right in front of me, he’s clearly unstable.”

Aemond looks to you. His voice is low, imposing. “I need to know what your limits are.”

“Oh my God!” Amir squeaks, bent over the table and icing as quickly as he can.

“Okay,” you tell Aemond. You rinse the pearlescent soap bubbles from your hands, wrists, forearms. Then you step out from behind the counter and watch him, remember him, imagine what will happen next.

He gives the peach cobbler cupcake another lap. Buttercream frosting coats his mischieviously curled lips and then is swiftly licked away. “Can I spank you?”

“Yes.”

Amir mutters to himself: “Grandma is never going to believe this.”

“Can I tie you up?”

“Yes.”

“Can I bite you hard enough to leave bruises?”

You pause. “Only places that will be covered by my clothes.”

“And what should you say if you ever don’t like what I’m doing?”

“I just tell you to stop.”

“Exactly.” Aemond grins. His right eye skates from your face to your chest to your hips to your thighs to your ankles, drinking you down like the earth swallows rain, like the vines and cypress trees and Sanish moss of the bayou thieve sunlight and never give it back. His left eye doesn’t move at all, though this is not something you would notice if you didn’t know to look for it. “Good girl.”

“Done!” Amir announces triumphantly, completing the swirl of frosting on the final orange creamsicle cupcake.

“Can I pull your hair?” Aemond asks you.

“Yeah, I think so. Not hard enough to yank it out though.”

Aemond scoffs. “Of course not. I don’t actually want to hurt you. That’s what some doms are after, but not me. Not here, not with you. You don’t want real pain, do you…?”

“No, definitely not,” you say, relieved.

“Brilliant. Then we’re on the same page.”

Amir could leave, but he doesn’t. His eyes dart between you and Aemond from behind his large rectangular glasses, fascinated, scandalized, too astonished to move.

Aemond continues: “Birth control?”

“I’m on the pill and have been for years. I can show you the pack if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you. I saw them in your bathroom last time I was here. I’m in the practice of using condoms regardless.” He tilts his head impishly. “Can I fuck your ass?”

“Um.” You hesitate. This is uncharted territory, though you cannot say that you are entirely unintrigued. “Maybe one day.”

“Noted. Some people find the sensation, the taboo, the fullness…quite pleasurable.”

“Do you?” Amir asks flirtatiously.

Aemond gives him a lazy, ludicrously charming smile. “Well I’ve never been on the receiving end, but I’m game to give it a try if you are.”

Amir bursts out laughing, then says to you: “He’s alright. He can commit abominable sins with you, I guess.” He stands and shakes Aemond’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Kind of.” Then he saunters off through the living room and out the front door. After a moment, you and Aemond listen to his blue Ford Escort rumble to life and then the crunching of gravel as it rolls out of the driveway. From the boombox drifts Just What I Needed by The Cars.

Aemond licks the last of the frosting from the peach cobbler cupcake and says: “Now you’re going to be the cupcake.” He crosses the kitchen, kneels down in front of you, roughly yanks down your denim shorts. He presses his face to your royal blue satin panties—hastily purchased this morning while Amir watched the shop and changed into just one hour ago in anticipation of Aemond’s arrival—and inhales deeply, desperately, like a drowning man gasping for air. Then, through the sheer fabric, he begins to tease you: nudges of his nose, nibbles of his lips.

Your fingers tangle in his short blonde hair. Blonde like the drunk man in the holding cell, you think randomly. “Aemond, why didn’t you want me last time?”

“I wanted you. I wanted you then and I want you now.”

“But I disappointed you. You didn’t finish.”

“Oh, I came,” he purrs. “Went home, got in the shower, thought of you. It didn’t take long. I would have disappointed you terribly. Woke up in the middle of the night thinking of you. Tried to miraculously get some work done yesterday while thinking of you. Crawled out of bed this morning thinking of you. Are you noticing a theme?”

You smile as his tongue presses forcefully against the satin. “I might be.”

“How many times in your life has a man treated his orgasm as essential and your own as an afterthought, if he considered it at all?”

Oh God. That’s the fucking truth. “A lot more than once.”

“So consider what we did on Sunday as one little notch in the other column. Just restoring a bit of much-needed balance to the universe.” He hooks his thumbs under your panties and tugs them off. “Open your thighs for me,” he orders as he pushes them apart with his palms: large, smooth, artful hands. You brace your own hands against the kitchen counter as he buries his face between your legs, not lapping in a tentative, exploratory sort of way but feasting on you, drowning in you, lips and tongue and then fingers that skate up the downy inside of your thigh to taunt you, enter you, fuck you expertly yet leave you wanting more of him, all of him. Your nerves are on fire, your blood is simmering. Outside the birds of prey are emerging from their liars and battle-scarred gators stalk boldly through the green prehistoric wildness of the Deep South.

What happened to his eye? you think through the lust-pink haze, knowing you cannot ask him. Aemond respects your rules. You must abide by his as well. How was he injured so gravely? Who hurt him? Did they atone for their misdeeds, did they pay the cost?

Suddenly, Aemond stands and pulls you against him by your waist, rips your yellow tank top over your head and unhooks your bra, kisses you fiercely. His mouth is dripping with you, clean mineral longing; his right eye is gleaming, famished, not just lustful but half-mad. No one else exists. No one ever has or ever will. “Go to the bed and wait for me there.”

“No.”

He spanks you once with his open palm; the sound is sharp and exquisite. “Go.” And this time you obey, counting the seconds in the dusk-lit splinter of time before he joins you.

In Aemond’s duffle bag—among other things, surely—are silk scarves the color of sapphires. First he fastens one over your eyes as a blindfold. Then he ties one around each of your wrists and binds both to the same bedpost, low enough that while your hands are kept up by your head, you still have some room to maneuver on the freshly-laundered, wildflower-patterned duvet. “Not different posts?” you ask Aemond.

“No. Tying your arms far apart like that can cause cramps in your back and your shoulders. It can even make it difficult to breathe. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be focused entirely on what I’m doing to you.”

You moan as his fingers slip between your legs and circle over the place that makes your muscles yearn and twist and tighten until you feel they might snap, until you can imagine every string of you breaking and dissolving from the prison of flesh into water, air, gravity, the eternal silent progress of time. He bites and sucks at your nipples, flicking his tongue over them, admiring them, praising them, ravenous for them. You are enraptured by the weight of him on top of you. Without your sight, everything else is more noticeable, more real: his warmth, his sweat, his every brush of skin against yours, his smoke and cologne and gasps and sighs, the grinding of his bare cock against your thighs as he makes you ready for him. And you beg for it long before he gives it to you.

“Roll over,” he commands breathlessly, and then guides you: your fingers clutching the scarves that secure your wrists, your elbows propped on the mattress, your back arched and hips angled up towards him, his lips murmuring against your shoulder, your cheek, the side of your throat. He’s telling you so many things, perfect things, delicious things you’ll never hear enough of: how beautiful you are, how badly he wants you, how well you’re doing. There is the sound of Aemond opening a condom wrapper, and a strange sorrow ripples through you. I wish I could have him raw.

One of his hands reaches around to stroke you, keeping you soaked and supple for him. The other begins to guide his cock into your aching, starving wetness. You stretch for him, you accept him eagerly…and then there is resistance. He stills immediately and tries a slightly different angle. Nothing. He could force it, probably, but he won’t. He recedes from you, agonizing emptiness, dire unfulfillment. I’m disappointing him, he’s too big, I’m too tight, too nervous, too inexperienced at being dominated, I can’t please him. You whimper: “Aemond, I’m sorry—”

“No,” he says, more ferocious than any words you’ve ever heard from him. You are not allowed to criticize yourself. You are not allowed to give up so easily. He leans down and whispers into the shell of your ear, his ribs against your spine, his heat entombing you: “Relax. I’m in charge now. I’ll take care of you.”

You want him to. You need him to. His commandment rolls through your blood and bones like a wave, loosening those last vestiges of anxiety, shaking grim psychological heirlooms from the highest shelves. You can surrender yourself completely to Aemond. He is worthy, he is safe, he is euphoria made flesh. His fingertips are still stroking you. He pushes your thighs just a little farther apart and—slowly, cautiously—eases his cock into your throbbing warmth. He hisses in a breath, though he tries not to break character, to show you that he might just be a little bit at your mercy too.

You moan loudly and shamelessly, letting him know you’re alright, more than alright, in ecstasy, in bliss, in torment, on the edge. When Aemond thrusts, he finds a place that’s never been hit so directly or so well. The climax is on you before you are aware of it, one of those swells that rises out of nowhere, capsizes the boat, fades back into the endless blue of the ocean. It jolts through your pelvis, your spine, your skull, and then evaporates like steam from a bathroom mirror. And now Aemond is trying to finish too, but something is off. He tries a few different rhythms, can’t seem to get it right. You think you can feel him beginning to soften. No no no, I can’t leave him unsatisfied again.

You look back, though you cannot see him through the blindfold; instinctively, you want to be closer to him. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says. “Nothing, nothing, nothing is wrong. You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He turns your face so he can kiss you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, swallowing you down, entangled in every way possible. And only then he is able to come: powerfully, trembling, crying out like he’s in the kind of pain that leaves scars for life.

He glides his cock out of you, and you can hear him snap off the condom. Then he unties your blindfold and your wrists. You reach for him, then stop yourself; he reaches for you—a reflex, surely—and then shakes the notion away and collapses beside you on the duvet. You both lie there panting, gazing dizzily up at the long shadows of centuries-old oak trees that cascade across the ceiling, minds drained, bodies spent.

After a moment, Aemond clambers off the bed to grab a lighter and a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his jeans pocket. Then he flops back down next to you, lights a cigarette, takes a deep, slow drag. “So, cupcake,” he says nonchalantly, exhaling smoke, hand shaking. “Where’d you get married?”

You laugh; this is ridiculous. “Why on earth would you want to know that?”

“I want to know things about you. Things other than your tits and your pussy. I mean, those are great. I enjoy them tremendously, and I plan to keep enjoying them. But I also enjoy you.”

You sigh. Aemond waits, puffing on his cigarette. “The parish courthouse.” Plain, boring, economical. “I wanted a wedding at Saint Honoratus, but…”

“Saint…who?”

“The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens,” you say. “It’s this gorgeous place in a town called Belle River on the other side of Lake Verret. Very small, very old, it’s a historic site or something, they can’t ever knock it down.”

“Why couldn’t you get married there?”

You shrug; how much could the details matter now? Someone needed to organize it, someone needed to decorate, someone needed to pay for food and drinks, someone needed to send out invitations, someone needed to care enough to make it happen, and that someone would have been you, just you, seventeen and broke and bedridden with morning sickness until noon every day. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Sounds like a lot of things didn’t work out for you.”

You raise your eyebrows. Aemond winces.

“Sorry. That was…not the way I meant to express that sentiment.”

You forgive him. You’d forgive him for anything right now, right here, in a bed stained with his sweat and your wetness and the seed you wish he could have spilled inside you. You taunt him: “Should we meet up at your house next time?”

He recoils, horrified. “No. Definitely not.”

“Why? What’s at your house? An abandoned wife and six tall, blonde, prominently-jawed children?”

He chuckles; he has collected himself again. “No. It’s just that…well…I have family in town currently. They’re staying with me while I get set up with the new job and everything. Quite a lot of people. And my family is…unorthodox.”

You wish he would stop using words you don’t know. That’s the hazard of affiliating with a highfalutin petroleum engineer, you suppose. “So they’re strange?”

“That’s a kind word for it.”

“I like strange people. I like you.”

Aemond smirks warily. “You wouldn’t like them. Just trust me on that.” He traces the border of your face with his fingertips, contemplating your secrets, tending his own like a nightscape garden. “Do you ever want to do something…not in your bedroom?”

You grin and he kisses you, nicotine and quelled desire; he can’t help it. You say when you break away: “What, like dinner or flowers or any of the other activities that were very clearly not a part of this arrangement?”

“Arrangements are flexible.”

“Are they?”

“This one is. Increasingly so.”

You ponder his proposition. “There’s this new restaurant I really want to go to. I’ve never been before, but it looks pretty rad in the commercials on tv. It’s up in Gonzales.”

“The same town as your illustrious Kmart engagement. How fortuitous. Pease continue.”

“It’s an Italian place,” you say.

“I love Italian.”

“It’s called Olive Garden.”

Aemond’s mouth falls open. He is bewildered, appalled. His cigarette smolders forgotten in the crook of his fingers. You might as well have told him you wanted to run over puppies with lawnmowers. “You want me to take you to Olive Garden? Seriously?”

You are wounded. “What’s wrong with Olive Garden?”

“Cupcake, Olive Garden is not real Italian food. That’s like saying Taco Bell is Mexican.”

“…Isn’t it?”

“Okay,” he capitulates. He smiles as he smooths your disheveled hair and touches his lips to your forehead. “It’s fine. We’ll go to Olive Garden.”

“Really?” you reply, beaming.

“Really. You’re free Thursday?”

“Unless Willis has to switch nights for some reason, yeah.”

“Then we’ll go Thursday.” Aemond rolls off the bed and finds a mug—Return Of The Jedi, Princess Leia and the Ewoks—left on your dresser to put his cigarette out in. He looks through the screen of your open bedroom window as the sky turns ever-darker, as the moon and stars begin to rise, and he breathes in the verdant, humid, ageless witchcraft of the bayou. “You have no idea what the last few days have been like for me,” Aemond says softly, his bare back turned to you, the ridge of his spine like a road cut through a swamp or a forest or a field of sugarcane. “You have no idea how badly I needed this.”

[corrodedcoffinfest]

It's Complicated Pop-Up Masterlist

Another fun event has ended here at @corrodedcoffinfest! Thanks again to everyone who participates in any way to make these a success!

This event had 11 total entries from 11 unique participants: 10 Fics, 1 Pieces of Art & 0 Other Works were submitted.

I've updated the spreadsheet with these newest entries, bringing our current total from all events to 359!

And don't forget to check out our ao3 collection!

The post for our next event Spring Break is already live! 🌊

Fic Submissions:

Follow Tomorrow by @griefabyss69 | Relationship(s): Jeff x Eddie | Rating: E | WC: 3.3K | CW: None | Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Best Friends, Dry Humping, Bisexual Jeff (Stranger Things), Post-Canon Fix-It, there's literally no angst in this btw!, Touring, having the hots for your best friend but wanting him to date someone else anyway

Damage, Lots of Damage by @thisapplepielife | Relationship(s): Gareth/Goodie (Freak), Established Steddie | Word Count: 14,297 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Under-Negotiated Kink, Self-Esteem Issues (Weight Related), Alcohol/Drug References | POV: Multiple (Primary: Gareth) | Tags: Love to Hate, Hate to Love, Idiots in Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Lack of Communication, Fighting and Fucking, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Established Steddie

uh oh, feelings by @steddieas-shegoes | Relationship(s): Established Steddie, Gareth/Steve Sex | Rating: E | WC: 4,512 | CW: open ending, steve/gareth sex | Tags: established steddie, NOT cheating they're all super cool and fine with this, eddie watches, virgin gareth, first time, bottom steve, top gareth, blowjob, anal fingering, anal sex, left open on purpose because i'm insane and might continue it

Corroded Coffin Fest Valentine's Day Pop-Up: It's Complicated by @jo-harrington | Relationship(s): Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all confront their feelings on the 30th anniversary of Eddie's death. | Rating: M | WC: 2,189 | CW: Grief, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Time Skip, Older!Corroded Coffin, Canonically Dead Eddie, Mention/Implication of Kas!Eddie, Post-Season 5 World/Vecna Defeated

a right hook would be less complicated, thanks. by @the-unforgivenn | Relationship(s): Eddie Munson x Gareth Emerson, background (kinda?) Eddie Munson x OFC | Rating: E | WC: 7K | CW: Cheating - but Eddie is none the wiser and innocent, your honor; unprotected sex (MM and MF ; please don’t do this), oral m receiving, semi-public sex, dirty talk, a bit of subby-ish!Eddie and a bit of mean!Gareth | Tags: 90s!AU, Corroded Coffin + Ronnie and without Gareth (yet), College!AU that follows Flight of Icarus canon with Ronnie

Another Love by @runninriot | Relationship(s): Eddie/Jeff, Steddie | Rating: M | WC: 1,966 | Tags: past friends with benefits Eddie/Jeff, newly established Steddie, unrequited love, complicated feelings, mild hurt/comfort, friendship

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch Cherry Bomb by @earthlyangelbby | Relationship(s): Love triangle between Eddie, Gareth, and oc Cheryl(Cherry) | Rating: M | WC: 3.9k | Tags: Love triangle between Eddie, Gareth, and oc Cheryl(Cherry), Mean words, Angst, Verbal Fighting, Physical Violence(between Eddie and Gareth), Hopelessromantic!Gareth, Blunt!Eddie Gareth and Eddie’s friendship is complicated

Best Friends by @punkrockmlchael | Relationship(s): Jeff x Gareth ; Platonic Eddie x Gareth | Rating: E | WC: 3,861 | CW: Confessions of feelings, Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: Corroded Coffin, Best Friends, Are we really Best Friends?, Why'd you leave me?, Guys discussing their feelings, Feelings Galore

This tainted love I've given by @keaganz | Relationship(s): Gareth Emerson/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington | Rating: E | WC: 2,704 | CW: Excessive Cursing *I'm not kidding it's EXCESSIVE*, Dubious consent, Non-consensual drug use, Toxic relationship | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, A/B/O dynamics, Alpha Eddie Munson, Alpha Gareth Emerson, Omega Steve Harrington, Offscreen Male Pregnancy and birth, One-Sided relationship, Dub-con, Recreational Drug use, Drugging, Obsessive Personality Disorder, Toxic Love, Band Breaks up, Steddie are Dustin's parents

Wicked Game by @dreamwatch | Relationship(s): Eddie/Jeff, Eddie/Steve | Rating: M | WC: 4K | CW: use of homophobic slurs, period typical homophobia, internalised homophobia | Tags: Angst, unhealthy relationships, kind of sad, unrequited love, messy relationships, Eddie is a prick, shitty van tours, shitty motels, shitty situations

Art Submissions:

"This is my boyfriend, Eddie. And this is Eddie's boyfriend, Gareth." by @alicetallula | Medium: Art | Relationship(s): HellDrumCheer | Details: Done using ink pens, alcohol markers, colored pencils, acrylic paint pens, a metallic ink pen, graphite pencils and Photoshop for the background, stawberry print and the lettering

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter 10 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Header by @ladyveronikawrites

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

The gloves are off.

With a frustrated roar, I tear off all my protective gear flinging it across the ice, the clatter of plastic and leather echoing through the stadium as my helmet slams down, sending shards of ice flying in all directions. Chest heaving, I square up against the taller defenseman, my nose nearly grazing the other man's chin as my eyes glare upwards. 

The defenseman's face is flushed, his stringy hair matted with sweat that was rapidly freezing in the frigid air. Shoving with the full force of my palms, I refused to be intimidated by the size difference, adrenaline coursing through my veins I shoved again. His papa make contact with my chest sending me backwards and I'm forced to brace myself to keep from toppling over,  refusing to back down.

Rage coursed through my veins as I skated furiously towards the other player, my voice erupting in a guttural yell. "You wanna fucking put hands on me, bitch?!" 

I had seen him deliberately slap the puck directly at my face as I was guarding the goal, and the sheer maliciousness of the action had ignited a fire within me. That blatant cheap shot was clearly no accident - he was looking for a fight, and I was more than willing to oblige. In that moment, all I could think about was retaliating, of taking my stick and using it to break his face open. The opportunity presented itself when he checked me hard into the boards, causing me to lose my grip on my stick. 

Now my hands grasp at fistfuls of his jersey as I yank him down to face level. My balled fist then comes into forceful contact with his cheek as he turns his head. 

I continue to throw punches until he reaches up, his hand making contact on my skull just behind my ear.  The impact sends  ringing in my ears and makes me slightly dizzy. But I refused to let up, my grip on his jersey tightening as we both tumbled down to the ice in a tangled mess of limbs, each of us desperately trying to land more blows on the other.

Bodies are swarming all around me and a pair of arms roughly pulling me back from my intended target. The impact of the strike on my left cheek burns with a sharp, stinging sensation, and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Just moments ago, the only sound I could hear was the thunderous rush of blood pounding in my ears, but now the air is filled with the frantic screaming of the crowd and the shouts of the referees, who are desperately trying to restore order by calling out penalty times and names, urging everyone to settle down.

My opponent is in no better shape, sporting a nasty gash across the bridge of his nose, his teeth stained crimson with his own blood. One of his eyes is already beginning to swell shut from the impact of the blows. I can feel the throbbing ache in my own head and neck, the burning in my cheek now mingling with a strange, numb sensation as the adrenaline begins to wear off.

The refs roughly shove me onto the hard bench, treating me like a wayward child being sent to the corner. Indignation flares within, a desperate urge to lash out by untying my skates and hurling them at the cold, unyielding plexiglass walls. But in the end, all I can muster is a resigned lean forward, elbows propped on my knees as I stew in the searing frustration of my captivity.

Leo McGuire and his clean cut boy look steps into the box, a medical bag slung over his shoulder.  Last week, he had been a constant chatterbox, his nervous prattle grating on my nerves, but now that he has grown accustomed to this routine, his demeanor has shifted. No longer does he sound like an idiot fumbling through his words - instead, his tone is calm and measured as he approaches me, attempting to get a closer look. 

"Alright, Sebastian, let me have a look." But I refuse to submit, wriggling out of his grasp, unwilling to relinquish even the smallest shred of control. The walls feel like they are closing in, the air thick with tension as I steel myself against the indignity of my situation, desperate to maintain what little autonomy I have left.

I can feel the intense longing and determination coursing through me as I utter those three simple words to him - "I want her." 

I know she has engineered this entire situation, this calculated plan to have him take over my care during the games rather than her directly handing me off to various partners. The reasoning is obvious - to avoid raising suspicion about the true nature of our arrangement. But at this moment, I couldn't care less about the intricate web she has woven. All that matters is getting what I want, reclaiming my fox and taking her for myself, right here and now.

He shrugs, unwilling to argue or stand in my way. I watch as he waves her over. She rolls her eyes, a familiar gesture that only heightens my craving, as her ponytail swings rhythmically back and forth with each step she takes towards us. As she steps into the small box she and McGuirre exchanging hushed whispers as he gathers his belongings and departs, leaving the medical supplies behind. Without hesitation, she kneels down and begins rummaging through the box, retrieving gauze, tape, saline, and antibacterial gel. My gaze is transfixed, drinking in every detail of her movements, her expression. Do I really look that bad? No matter - her attention is all that matters.

She begins to gently clean the cut on my left cheek, standing off to the side, carefully positioned so as not to obstruct my view of the ongoing hockey game. It's a considerate gesture, but it's a little late for that - my focus has already been shattered by the intensity of her presence. I glance up at her, and I can't help but notice the lines forming between her furrowed brows as she knits them together in concentration. Her cheek is slightly sucked in as she chews on it, a telltale sign of her focus, as she dabs carefully at the wound on my face. 

Suddenly, she lets out a soft sigh, and I sense a shift in her demeanor. "We can't do this," she murmurs in a low voice, her lips barely moving. "I can't treat you and be sleeping with you. It's unethical." 

I can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at her words. "So you send the newbie to tend to me then. I knew it," I retort, my words harsher than I intended them to be, my blood still boiling from the intensity of the game. 

She responds matter-of-factly, "It's not like I needed to discuss it with you." I can't help but feel a sense of indignation creep in.

 "Didn't have the decency to tell me to my face," I fire back. 

"I didn't think it mattered," she says, her tone even. 

I pause for a moment, letting her words sink in. 

"You're right. It doesn't. This," I say, gesturing to the game unfolding on the ice, "this matters. The cup matters. And I'll be damned if some woman is gonna get in my way and mess me up." As I stand up on my skates, towering over her, I can see the glassy, trembling look in her eyes - and my own chest feels like its been cracked in half. I let out a heavy sigh and slump back down onto the bench, muttering an apology that I'm not even sure she hears over the din of the crowd.

However, the others - Jack and Leo- had clearly picked up on the tension. Immediately heading over and stepping into the box with us.

With a protective edge to his voice, Jack gently asked, "You good, Sarah?" 

Sarah's response was clipped, her tone betraying the strain of the situation. "Fine," she said tersely, before continuing, "Listen, could you take over for me? I think Sebastian just needs to cool down, and obviously I am not making that any easier right now." The way she emphasized my last name, almost spitting it out, struck a chord within me, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as she gathered her belongings and pushed past Jack and Leo, putting as much distance between herself and me as possible. 

As I slap my hands against my face, ignoring the sting of pain, I feel the tangled mess of my hair slip through my fingers. It wasn't her fault, none of this was - I was the one who had been so foolish, so reckless in my actions. Yelling at her, when all I really wanted to do was run after her and beg for her forgiveness. I had been so stupid to think this could ever be just a casual thing, a fleeting moment between us. Not after today, not after what had happened. 

I could have played it safe, stayed cool and detached, never letting myself think about her during the game. It wasn't the puck to the face that had gotten to me - I could handle that kind of physical pain any day. No, it was what had happened before the game, when the players were circling the ice during warm-ups. I'd been on the bench, retightening my skates, when I saw him skate by, whistling and leering in her direction as she inventoried her equipment. 

At that moment, I saw red. She was mine, and no one was going to disrespect her like that, not on my watch. The puck to the face had been my opportunity, my open door to beat the living daylights out of him. All because I had been foolish enough to let my heart get involved, to catch feelings for someone I could never truly have. Now I was left to face the consequences of my actions, my emotions having gotten the better of me in the heat of the moment. I had to find a way to make this right, to apologize and beg for her forgiveness, even if I knew in my heart that I could never truly be with her.

After the game, I couldn't even speak let alone look at my teammates. The throbbing in my head and ache in all of my muscles is a familiar feeling, a badge of honor for the sacrifices I made on the ice. As I stand under the warm spray of the shower, I watch the dried blood from the cut on my cheek and one above my eye mix with the water and swirl down the drain, disappearing into the checkered tile below.

Dressed and barely getting my gear bag over my shoulder, a voice calls out my name - a voice I was dreading to hear.

 "Sebastian. My office."

 It's Veronica Campbell, the team's tough-as-nails PR director. With her no-nonsense attitude and impeccable business attire, Veronica commands respect from the six-foot-tall athletes she works with, even though she stands nearly a foot shorter than us. Her petite frame is always adorned in sleek black or gray pantsuits, her feet shoved into practical flats rather than the towering heels one might expect. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, I trudged through the familiar locker room, feeling the weight of my teammates' eyes following me as I made my way towards Veronica's office. 

As I clicked the door shut behind me, I braced myself for the impending confrontation, my mind racing with possibilities. Veronica's commanding voice cut through the silence, instructing me to take a seat across from her. I reluctantly complied, rolling my eyes in a futile attempt to mask my growing anxiety. 

"If this is about the fight, it's hockey - people fight. So what is it? I'm suspended, pending investigation. He's filing charges? What?" I demanded, the words tumbling out in a frantic jumble. Rummaging through the papers on her desk, Veronica produced two small packets, each with a neon green tab marked "sign here" at the back.

 "The first is a non-disclosure agreement. I need you and Ms Brody to sign. The second is a treatment plan where Ms Brody will no longer be your nurse on call for any future games, and you will be tended to by Leo McGuire instead." My stomach dropped as her words sank in. 

“I-but wait- what?” I stammer out and I see her shoulders slump. Her hazel eyes are heavy, probably from stress and exhaustion. 

“ Look, I don't want the details of you and Ms Brody's relationship. I really don't need it. I just need you to sign the non-disclosure agreement and the treatment agreement. If you guys are going to continue with whatever it is, you're doing.” 

Veronica sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowed as I contemplated the stack of papers before me. 

"Did she bring this up to you?" I pressed.

Veronica paused, considering her words carefully. With a cool, measured tone, she replied, "How the information was presented to me is my business and my business alone." There was an underlying firmness to her voice that brooked no further questions.

In that moment, my mind seemed to completely shut off, operating on pure autopilot as my hand instinctively reached for the pen, signing my name on the dotted line before I even had a chance to process what I was doing. The typed words on the page blurred together, their contents a mystery as I hurriedly scrawled my signature. 

“Can I take these with me?” I ask.

“If she consents I need them by Thursday. You have a game and I need everything filed before then.” I barely registered her response, my body moving mechanically to gather up the papers, trying desperately not to crease or damage them in my haste. The legs of the chair nearly tripped me up as I clumsily made my way out of the office.

“But Sebastian,” her voice stops me in my tracks as I turn slowly to look at her. “It's my job to file the paperwork. It's your job to tell the coach.”

Fanclub: @tearfallpixie @ladyveronikawrites @beaker1636 @missduffsblog @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @rumoured-whispers @sorrowsofsilence @mysticdoodlez @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @somebodyels3 @flowery-mess @thisbicc

[fairytwles]

GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE FIRST TWO EPISODES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏

OK OK, I HAVE A LOT

kinda out of order and all over the place but SEASON THREE EP 1 AND 2 THOUGHTS:

THE TAG SCENE IN EPISODE ONE QUICKLY MADE ITS WAY UP TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE SEQUENCES OF THE SHOW (LOTTIE SEEING LAURA LEES GHOST IN THE MALL STILL AT #1 THO)

the scene right after that where everyone is just having a good time is so cutesy and i adored it, it was so nice to see them all so happy because i knew they're gonna get into some fuck shit this season

speaking of cutesy, AKILAHHHHHH

MY GIRL IS RASING BUNNIES???? AND DUCKS???? UGH

the beef between mari and shauna this season is so fucking funny

I'm overall liking mari a lot more this season too (though it is only the first two episodes so that could change)

"get off of me gaywad!" ok prophet mari

ADULT TAIVAN MY BELOVEDS OMG IM SO GLAD WE'RE GETTING CONTENT

callie and adult shauna my beloved's

LOTTIE FUCKING MATTHEWS!!! SHE HAS DONE NO WRONG EVER IN THE WORLD OF THE WORLDS

she is my baby, my beloved, my pookie, my princess (both teen and adult lottie)

nat looking hot as ever, serving face in the wilderness like its no ones business

three jackie mentions, I'm simply winning

one of those jackie mentions being in an interaction with nat??? jackienat truthers win once again

speaking of nat, her funeral scene made me so :( natalies mom when i fucking catch you

natalie liking swings when she was younger MADE ME SOB FOR SOME REASON

she was just a little girl :((

also nats mugshot had me oh lalaing the entire time

"keep going mar I'll make it two weeks!" made me lol, like ok mom

the thing they had for jackie, javi and wilderness baby :((

also that fucking screaching noise??? what the fuck was that??

natalie, van, gen, and tai having a fucking HOA meeting was hilarious bc yeah, what the hell sure

cutting to coach ben right after natalie said he's def dead was silly

COACH BEN FINDING T H E PIT??? (we're pretty sure)

i need to know rn what else dead cabin guy hid in those woods bc damn they coulda used that shit awhile ago

adult misty made me :((( the entire time

HER SEEING GHOST NAT AT THE BAR?? GOD

HER WEARING NATS JACKET??? SMELLING IT AND SLEEPING WITH IT??? GETTING NATS DRINK INSTEAD OF HER OWN??? FUCK

the scene where she just fucking breaks down in walters arms because of nat.... her saying she LOVES HER??? basically mistynat confirmation for me

i feel so bad for her

adult taivan restaurant dine and dash was so silly

except for the part where u know... the waiter fucking died???

he didn't have to be doing all of that though, no way he gets paid enough to chase after people

rip the waiter tho i guess

man with no eyes appearance!!! i honestly forgot abt him

ADULT LOTTIE MATTHEWS SILLIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD

she has done no wrong,

the scenes of her, misty, and callie were one of my favs

i haven't stopped thinking about her in that fucking panda face mask

speaking of callie, mf girlboss, i always believed in you girl

the guts thing?? iconic

out mistying misty herself?? incredible!! who knew it could be done!

ALSO THE ACTRESS WHO PLAYS CALLIE IS 30?!?! FUCKING CRAZY

adult shauna and jeff at the restaurant with those hotel guys

her calling them out for being nepo babies LMAO adult shauna ily

the bathroom scene was crazy

at first i for sure thought we were getting ghost jackie, but like a different scene from the trailer bc shauna wasn't wearing the same outfit

but then after the phone thing i knew it prob had to do with hillary swank

adult shauna funniest character in the show its true

MARI FALLING INTO THE PIT???

THAT REVEAL HAD ME GAGGED

SAME WITH BEN TIEING MARI UP I WASNT EXPECTING THAT

the whole mari and ben subplot was so silly to me

both of them hobbling away 😭

ben practically put mari on a child leash and that will never not be funny to me

the hot chocolate scene??? eerily similar to jackie's dream sequence 🤔

ben going fucking crazy in the background, god mari is screwed i fear

SHAUNAHAT CANON??

I SCREAMED WHEN THAT SCENE CAME ON

LIKE ACTUAL FR SCREAMED

THE ENTIRE TWO EPISODES LEFT MY MIND THE ONLY THING LEFT WAS THOSE FUCKING LESBIANS

I DIDN'T EXPECT SHAUNAHAT TO BE REAL

melissa kissing shauna when she had a knife to her throat was so real, girl would do anything for some lez activity

now with that knowledge i def think hillary swank is adult melissa

cause like?? the cuts between adult shauna trying to figure out who left the phone and young shauna and melissa making out??

it was def melissa who left that phone

im still kinda weary about hillary swank being adult melissa because of the scene in the trailer where she said "wow you guys are really fucking crazy" cause why would melissa say that??

it would have to be someone who wasn't there

so i think melissas sister is prob hillary swank BUT, this episode made me much more confident

plus that imdb thing said hillary swank is melissa but i think I'll have to see it first

ANYWAY I THINK THATS ALL MY THOUGHTS

IF I FORGOT SOMETHING ILL ADD ONTO IT

[midnightmayhem13]

Hii! Could I request the marvel ladies reaction to reader referring to them as her girlfriend for the first time <33

now i see daylight

this is so adorable! and ofc coming rightt up(ultra delayed post)

warning!- some suggestive bits(nothing specifically said)

Carol Danvers

once awhile, u and the girls go to a fancy jazz club. usually it's an excuse for you guys to dress up and get wine drunk and wake up feeling refreshed, albeit a lil hungover. this time, you and your lovely gf Carol go as a together. you wore a stunning navy blue dress and she wore a casual navy suit. Carol was drooling over you and she couldn't stop staring at you but you were also obsessing over ur sexy buff ass gf. you walk in hand in hand and go around the party talking to ur friends. you and carol separate for js a moment. when ur friends head home u sit there sipping ur drink alone and a man comes to sit next to you and start bugging you. "hey beautiful, you here alone?" "no im actually with someone" you answer sternly. thanks to Carols quick reflexes, you don't have to suffer long. she puts a firm hand on ur back and kisses the top of ur head. but thanks to the drinks he doesnt take the hint. "why don't u take me home dove; i'll show you want i can do." you and carol giggle. as she's about to say smt, you interupt. "actually" leaning into Carol, putting ur hand on her stomach as her hand goes over ur shoulder. "i'm gonna be taking my beautiful girlfriend home so you can go now." Gosh you've never looked sexier to carol. she honestly js starts fawning over you and lets out a THATS MY GIRL and hugs you super tight bc her heart js melted. you're so proud about being with her and she cannot contain the blush that's on her cheek. you two walk out (ur lipstick all over Carols face and neck) she's so giddy about the events that happened and cannot stop kissing u all over. it's like ur first date all over again and honestly, she can't wait to call u her wife!!

Darcy Lewis

Darcy is the smartest girl you know. and naturally as an Avenger you introduce her to Tony and safe to say he's very impressed with her and pats you on the back for finding such a brilliant girl. everyone likes Darcy too!! she makes you happy, she's hot, she's loyal, and mf is a Dr and an astrophysicist!! you always flaunt that. well when a big company asks the avengers to come work with them bc some sort of anomaly (think wandavision but no one's dead bc i said so) has accured and they need some brains and brawns. while tony and bruce alone were smarter than all of the companies scientists; they bit off more than they could chew. after a few weeks of all the scientists working at it, they only advance a bit. you go home and darcy comes over and you rant to her about it bc ur fed up. and suggest the idea of bringing her to help and she considers it. she spends the night so she might as well tag along and see what she can do. at first the companies big boss disregards her and even tries to push her away from the monitors. you grab his wrist "don't you touch her. and just so yk my girlfriend is smarter than all ur stupid scientists so i suggest you let her take a look so she can fix wtv ur men can't" Darcy is actually frozen to her spot bc that was so hot. the heat from her cheeks spread all the way down and she's at a loss for words. her face turns bright red and she nudges you too stop cutting the guys circulation off (she's well aware you'll break this guys arm for her). she thanks you and kisses ur cheek as she sits down. give her a few hours and BOOM. she's gotten to the bottom of the problem and has two possible ways to fix it, they both end up working. Darcy bugs about how much you brag about her. you give her a whole speech on why she's the greatest women ever as you hold her. she loves you with her whole heart and has never felt safer in her big bad avengers gfs arms.

Maria Hill

Even though Maria is always incredibly busy with Shield, and you with the avengers, you always find time to be together. but being women of high power has never been easy. that being said, both of you get looked down on even after showing ur skill time and time again. so you arrive at headquarters looking for your bad ass gf, carrying with you a few treats so she doesn't forget to eat. as you make ur way towards everyone they seem to be doing their usual thing. you could spot her from a mile away away. she's the most beautiful women you've ever laid eyes on. you approach her. her eyes land on you and her face immediately lights up. she greats you with a tight hug, a kiss on the head and then the lips. she's gotten more comfortable with being affectionate at work, you notice. "thank you baby" she says sweetly, completely contrasting to the harsh tone she uses with her troops. "i'll be back in a second" she goes to tell her most trusted troop to take charge as she steps out for a second. almost as if she cannot live in peace, a scrawny, insecure guy comes out of nowhere and starts complaining about Maria being off duty (who even is he) he starts causes a scene and honestly makes you laugh a bit. you two go to walk off to ignore him and suddenly the hoe grabs you!! yeahh maria is not gonna let this go. but when she goes to interfere but yank your arm away "my girlfriend has all of this under control so why don't you turn around and get back to work, the nerve of you!" Maria jaw is DROPPED. i mean she knew you could get serious but seeing her adorable gf give commands does something to her body. almost as if she's shy being in ur presence. she's sure she's never smiled bigger. you turn around and grab her had and guide her to the break room. she feels like she has a silly little school girl crush as she giddily follows you around.

sharon carter

(this is power broker sharon bc she's hot but no one's dead BC I SAID SO) To say sharon was kinda nervous about telling you about her job was an understatement. i mean you were an avenger but also the love of her life. it was a long talk but you got it to work. anyways you hung around a lot at her place bc hello?? it's huge and you love seeing ur hot gf do illegal ass things bccc she wasn't an avenger level threat (yet) so by ur logic, we're chilling. and she was on okay terms with steve, bucky and sam. when she hosts her auctions you're always welcome to come to them too! you want to be there just in case the worse happens, even tho she's more than capable of controlling it. but that doesn't mean you're safe from any guys or gals that want to hit on you. if they know who you are, you're okay but if they don't know who you are or have a death note they'll hit on you. usually you hang low or by the bar bc sharon's busy at these events. as you sip your favorite margarita you feel a tap on your shoulder. a security guard? "uhm hi can i help you?" you ask politely. unbeknownst to you sharon's watching (she always is) and heading her way over to you. the guards are specifically told not to speak to you unless u speak to them. she's possessive what can you say. "i'm not sure you're on the list your gonna have to step out" he says roughly grabbing ur arm and tugging you off your stool. sharon is basically bolting at this point. "my girlfriends the owner of this place and is the reason you buy ur meals so get off of me" you say and push him back. he's about to tackle you bc yk ego. until he sees an arm snake around your waist. oh sh*t. "get the hell out my house" sharon says and he gets escorted out. you'll probably never hear from him again. sharon grabs your waist and pulls you impossibly close to her as she places her lips on yours. "that was so sexy baby" she says on ur lips. her stern demeanor almost broke when she heard you calling her your girlfriend so proudly. it made her knees want to buckle and she felt like kicking her feet. she finally got the girl of her dreams and u guys were a match made it heaven. she can't stop thinking of this moment for months to come and definitely shows how proud she is of you later that night.

Nebula

nebula thought she was gonna be a lot of things in life. but never did she think she was gonna be the girlfriend of the most beautiful and kind girl in the galaxy. she seriously never expected to ever be blessed by your presence much rather be loved so deeply by you. although she's been weary of love her whole life, you've completely changed her perspective. you love her so deeply it's almost unfathomable. that being said, anything you guys are in a new planet and go explore you always make sure to stick to her side. who's gonna mess with ur big ass blue gf?? not to mention she's possessive with you and aggressive with anyone but you. she's also so gentle with her sweet girl. so you'd expect any on looker to stay away from you bc nebula likes to walk around with her hand on ur butt while holding you close. but when some weird looking dude approaches nebula immediately become alert but all he does is aggressively bump into her "hey watch where the hell your going u got ur dirty paws on my girlfriend!" you yell as you grab wtv the hell is on top of his (maybe hair??) and he has no other choice but to apologize to nebula. when he leaves nebula is left speechless. why are you so proud that ur dating her?she can't control herself tho and pulls you into an ally to passionately make out with you. that was so hot. she lifts you by ur butt and presses you against a wall. you giggle and pull away as she chases ur lips "what's with this nebby?" "i love you." she says hoarsely. she didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. she couldn't care less about what the guy said or didn't say. but you loved her so much and we're so open about it. she was gonna love you forever.

kate bishop

Kates sure you could do something so simple as breathing and she would get giddy. she's no kidding. she absolutely adores you and you adore her. that's why you two just work. and while not all things come to you guys that simple most things do. you to do have your fights but they can usually be resolved with a good talk followed by a movie marathon with pizza and Lucky cuddles. so that's what you guys are doing right now. don't get me wrong, this happens on a weekly bases not just when you guys are having an argument. it's just a chill saturday afternoon, both you and kate resting from having a hard week in training and working with adults who never seemed to be pleased with any improvement in any skill. but anyways. you kate and lucky are all cuddled up on her couch as you decide what movie to pick out. as if it's a 6th sense kate suddenly gasps "we didn't order pizza!" and even lucky pops his head up, distraught by this horrible news. you have a good laugh but kate is seriously concerned about this. you stroke her hair and kiss it and tell her you'll order it rn. kate js smiles snuggly at lucky (who she high fives) as she leans her head on ur tit and receives head rubs. you call her favorite pizza place and order ur usual order while she finds a few movies to binge. thanks to nyc, ur pizza arrives in no time. and when you hear the bell ring you and lucky go answer the door. kates too busy complaining cuz her pillows gone. as you answer the door luckys right there as ur security. "haha your dogs really cute!" says the delivery guy "thank you my girlfriend found him!" you say simply as you tip him and close the door. kate literally gets up and runs around as she squeals. you thought she was just really hungry but after she picks you up when you put the pizza down she tells you other wise. she spins you around and cannot take the big goofy smile off her face. she's left speechless but her smile speaks for her. when you ask her about it your heart melts at how pure she is. the rest of the night she's has that smile on her face as she's resting on ur favorite pillow, you!!

a/n- so sorry this took so long and it's kinda crappy! i was kinda stuck so they all sound similar but hopefully you guys enjoyed! send requests!!🤍🤍

stay safe hoes🤍