#1061 words

[ch1lde-mora]

thoma x stage manager! reader

hi!! i started this last year while i was in the middle of one of my most stressful gigs, and it was because of said job that i didn't finish it but it's out! under the cut - kisses from v

original note from the doc: Stressed stage manager reader (totally not based off personal experience 💪 stage manager solidarity dude this shit is hard) (totally didn’t write this while my cast gc was blowing up)

“...Hello? Yes, that’s me.. I know, we have a rehearsal tomorrow… What do you mean, ‘I can’t make it to this rehearsal’?! It’s almost like you haven’t been to any rehearsals! …… I understand you’re busy, but I’m also busy covering for you. I have more than just you to manage, so either you keep missing rehearsals - which is totally on you, and only reflects on you and your performance, by the way - or you find someone to replace you. My god..” 

Hanging up the phone, you covered your face with your hands and groaned. There was a moment of silence afterwards before you burst out laughing; out of stress and exhaustion more than anything.  

“No fucking way they’re missing another rehearsal… What, did they go and get another hangover like that last time? They’re fucking impossible.” You mumble, feeling absolutely beside yourself. 

Just then, you heard a knock on the door.

“Y/N? May I come in? Who were you talking to?” Ah, yes. The love of your life- you had nearly forgotten amidst all the mess. 

Speaking of mess, Thoma opened the door a smidge and slipped inside of your bedroom, taking it all in for a moment. To say it was a disaster would be a drastic understatement. There were scripts and paper scraps from reformatting your scripts all over the floor as well as spare glue sticks, pieces of tape and not two but three pairs of scissors for said paper. Not to mention, you looked absolutely miserable. There were bags under your eyes as you held up the pencil with a bit of an irregular shake to your hands, trying desperately to write more notes down. 

“Hey, Thoma.. Just another actor on the phone. They just can’t show up to rehearsal. Again. Just like the last time, and the time before. I’ll be out with you in a moment, I just have to finish this-” Before you could even finish talking, Thoma was already lifting you out of your chair and carrying you out of that cluttered room.

“You’re not finishing a thing until I see you alive and well. That means you need a nice meal, a bath and some rest. Trust me on this, please.” He spoke to you in a tone comparable to a teacher as he brought you to the dining room, sitting you down at your chair and then heading to the kitchen. 

You sighed, remembering a past experience similar to this. He wouldn’t relent no matter how much you begged him to go back to work, and eventually he laid with you and cuddled on the couch until you fell asleep soundly. Then, he was cleaning your office and making sure you had a comfortable space to work in.

You didn’t feel like you wanted to burden him more than you seemingly ‘already had’, so you gave in and let him cook your favourite food for you.

“Thoma, can I help you? Like, at all? It’s not fair for you to be cleaning and cooking everywhere and me just sitting here eating the food that you so graciously made for me- which, thank you, by the way- but still, it’s not fair!”

Looking over at you with a large smile on his face, he shook his head. “No can do, love. Besides, you know I like cooking especially if it’s for you. So shhh, let me handle this. I got it, I promise.”

And so you sat and you waited for him to make that meal that you didn’t realize you sorely missed; it had been a little while since he made it, but it took a little bit longer than just sticking an instant meal in the microwave and dealing with the shitty taste. Time you still felt like you were running out of.

Before long, a plate was deposited in front of you as well as your beautiful boyfriend. “All ready, just the way you like it!” He grinned from ear to ear and it was hard not to feel your heart jump out of your chest. “Thank you, again.. I do still have lots to do, but I suppose I can take tonight to relax.” 

“Attagirl. I’m going to start running your bath now, and then I can-” You cut him off quickly with a ‘shhh’, shaking your head. “Just the bath is enough, really. I know the office is a mess, but it’s an organized mess that I need to take care of myself. Besides, you’ve done so much for me today already!” He resigns, standing up from his chair and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. “If you say so, but once you’re done your bath you and I are going to bed.” You nod, accepting this deal.

After he leaves the room, you finish the meal quickly with a voracity you forgot you had. Really, his cooking is unmatched. Once complete, you made your way to the bathroom and admired his work.

Thoma had gone through the trouble of adding rose petals to the bath, laying out everything you might possibly need. He was just putting the finishing touches on the setup when he noticed you leaning against the doorframe with a smile.

“This is really sweet of you, Thoma. Thank you for taking care of me.” You blushed as he came up to you and kissed you softly before stepping to the side. “No need to thank me, really. I like doing this for you, Y/N.” He slipped past you out of the room and left you to your own privacy.

After taking about an hour to relax in the bath and wash up, you finally decided that the water was too cold and fingers too pruned for your taste. Stepping out and changing into the clean, fuzzy pajamas he laid out for you, you crept into the bedroom to find him at lamplight reading a book.

“Hello, love. How was your bath?” He asked, putting the book to the side and beckoning you into his arms. “It was really nice, thank you for it again. I know I’ve been a lot lately, and really it won’t end until show season is over, but I appreciate your patience.” You replied, settling against his chest with a soft smile.

“Always, honey. Whatever you need. Now, let’s get some rest shall we?” You closed your eyes and found sleep with him rather easily, letting you of your work - even just for one evening.

[snowballseal]

Sleepy Affection

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.

Word Count: 1061

Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.

---

Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.

But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.

You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.

You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.

Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.

---

The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.

One man seems to be at least.

By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.

Right to your sleeping dragon.

Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.

It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 

Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.

His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.

It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 

Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.

You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.

“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.

“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 

He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.

You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”

You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.

“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”

You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.

---

Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)

[boyfhee]

박성훈 、COUPLE CODE

sunghoon pouts when he's jealous.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ light kissing, jealous sunghoon ( 1061 )

notes ⋆ brought the heat back is making me want to write jealous fics for every single member i can't do this. anyway RICH BOY HOON WLCM BACK!!!!

“you’re pouting,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand but he slides it out of yours ever so swiftly. 

“i’m not pouting,” sunghoon mumbles, not even caring to look at you as he makes long strides to a secluded corner, away from the chatter of the charity event his parents dragged him to along with themselves. 

“you’re not good at lying,” you snort, following him wherever he’s going. he gives you a little run for himself when he’s like this— literally, because you keep increasing your pace, having a hard time keeping up with him. and when you finally do, hands around his wrist to stop him. “c’mon hoon, you don’t have to be jealous,”

“jealous?” he huffs, jerking his hand out of your grip as if you’ve insulted him, the words bruising his ego. “you’re saying i am jealous? what makes you say that?”

“it’s written all over your face,” you reply with a sigh, eyes glazing over his expression and the very obvious pout that he keeps denying is there. you simply stare at him for a few seconds before shaking your head and reaching out to cup his face. “you’re jealous and you’re pouting. it’s the most adorable thing in the world,”

and sunghoon would be lying if he said those words didn’t give him butterflies, especially with the way your hands are on his cheeks, squishing them a little to make his lips jut further in a pout. 

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he huffs in mock offence, eyes looking away from your face as if he does not like this, albeit having no attempt at pushing you away. 

you know he’s just being dramatic, fists clenched on his sides even though you know his hands are itching to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer. it’s cute, even though you don’t particularly enjoy seeing him upset and it’s obvious that he can sense how much fun you’re having, which makes him pout even more.

“is this about jongseong?” 

“jongseong?” his eyes narrow at your face, the said name ringing in his head again and again as he takes your hands and pulls them away from his face, although still holding him ever so gently, contrary to the look in his eyes. “you’re on a first name basis with him?”

“we’re friends,” you giggle at the way his eyes squint further at your words— and he couldn’t be more obvious with that pout on his lips. “i don’t attend these events often so dad wants me to socialise,”

“you’re socialising with the enemy,” sunghoon glares at you, prompting out a chuckle from you at his words. he frowns at your reaction, making you laugh even more.

“you hate him, i don’t,”

“boyfriend’s enemy is your enemy too. that’s the couple code,” he states bitterly, fingers slowly interlacing themselves with yours. his brows are furrowed in irritation, lips still in a never ending pout— you think you love this version of sunghoon more.

sunghoon doesn’t pout.

as he claims, most of the time, even though you know it’s not really true. he pouts when you don’t give him attention, or when he calls you in disappointment to cancel the dates because his dad wants him to assist him with work and election campaigns— you can hear that pout through the phone when he speaks. sometimes, when your phone rings up between your lazy make out sessions, he pouts again, and you have to make sure your eyes are on him as your fingers trace over his lips and cheeks while you’re trying to get over that call as soon as possible. 

even now, when you two are silent and he’s looking down, fiddling with your fingers, you notice how his lips switch between a pout and an irritated scowl, the way he huffs at how absurd it all seems to him. and sunghoon is not a very jealous man— well, not until now. you’re used to him brushing it off when you tell him about some guy trying to get your number. ‘well you turned him down and you’re here in my arms so i don’t care—’ the usual response. 

although, you know about the rivalry between him and jongseong— jay, as sunghoon would like you to address the other guy— nothing could’ve made you assume that your dear boyfriend would be jealous over just a ten minutes conversation with him. you didn’t want to make him jealous, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this little exchange. 

“no more talking to jay. he’s the worst,” he mumbles, looking up at you with the exhibition of his bruised pride in his eyes. “and no more calling him jongseong too,”

“we’re friends, hoon,”

“he was interested in you,” he insists and words get stuck in your throat. it’s not a secret that jay had tried asking you out several times. there’s no doubt he was— or is still interested in you, if there’s any chance. you wouldn’t want to make sunghoon upset over that either way.

“valid,” you nod, agreeing with him to console his shattered ego, although trying to come to a conclusion in the middle. “okay, no more talking to jay when you’re not around,”

“good,” sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer before pressing his lips against your cheeks. “he sucks anyway,”

“true, i don’t like his attitude,” you nod in an attempt to humour him.

and he’s not exactly convinced, since you and jay have been friends ever since you changed majors last year. he doesn’t ponder over that much, pouring all his attention on you and peppering your face with tender pecks. 

“and he’s not cute like me either when he pouts,” he pulls back after capturing your lips in a chaste kiss and puts his forehead against yours. you know you two should be getting back to the event, knowing your absence will not go unnoticed by either of your parents, but sunghoon has been through a lot today— as he will say it later— and so you decide to hold him in your arms a little longer.

“of course not,” you say with a kiss on the top of his head when he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. his continues to draw soft circles on your waist through your dress, something that makes you hug him tighter. “you’re the cutest,”

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[mywritersmind]

MYSTERY KISSER - FC43

summary : You didn’t expect your ex to be there. You’re on a girls night out, trying to forget the cheater! Spontaneity is supposed to be on the list. You check it off one drink in when you grab a random man and ask him to kiss you.

listen up : i missed writing for franco omg!! kissing! fun and short! no part two

words : 1061

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Oh shit.” you almost scream, looking at the man you’ve been avoiding for the past two weeks, “Shit!” You lied. Said you were out on date because you don’t need his cheating ass!

Well, two drinks in your hand and your girls around you, it’s obvious you’re not on a date.

He has his arm around a girl. He had made countless burner accounts just to beg you to come back- and now, after saying he’d be wallowing in his apartment all night, his hand is gripping some redhead’s ass.

“Fuck.” You hand the drinks to your friends, obviously panicking as they try to reassure you. Three years! Three years you had given to this asshole and here he is, doing the same thing he’d done when you were wishing he’d call you back. “Fuck that!”

Your friends try calling after you, yelling your name a bit too loud. The noise is drowned out by the pounding in your ears and the heavy club music.

You grab the first guy you see, “Kiss me!?” Yelling over the music, the man, who has a drink in his hand and a raised brow over his surprising green eyes, looks at you.

For a split second, regret fills you. And then… he grins. “Okay.” His hand slips to your waist, fulfilling your request without another word.

His lips hit yours in a rush of adrenaline and alcohol, warmth overtaking every inch of your skin. Your hand grabs the back of his neck, possessively matching how his hold tightens on you. His friends cheer and whistle, nothing more than a buzz in your ear as he slips his tongue in your mouth and you feel the sharp sense of biting on your lower lip.

You might not know the man but hell, after knowing the feeling of his lips overpowering yours, you definitely want to.

The kiss deepens and every thought of your ex disappears in the muggy club air. You feel his other hand brushing against you but it’s occupied by a drink, the condensation touching your bare skin the same second he grabs your ass.

He dips down a little, catching a breath of air as he locks your lips again. He’s smiling.

His hand is on your lower back now, his touch an afterthought that sends chills throughout your body. He mumbles something- something unintelligible and in a language you don’t understand and then… you’re practically ripped apart by the sudden flash of cool liquid hitting him in the side of his head.

You both swear, looking up at the reason why he’s drenched in- vodka?

Your ex stands there, empty cup and all. “You fucking cunt knew I was here-” He takes one step closer to you before getting pushed back by your mystery kisser.

“Watch out.” He has an accent, thick and currently filled with hate, “Back up, yeah?” To your surprise, he does.

Your ex’s face is burning, shooting his gaze back to you, “Little slut went running to the first man she could find-” The mystery man takes a step towards him but you push yourself in front, slapping your ex across his face.

“Slut!? We’re name calling now? I have plenty for you! Whore, Cheater, Dickhead, Asshole, Cheater-” You emphasize the last repeated word, getting in his face only to be slid back by two hands firmly on your waist.

They don’t move, even when your body is pressed to his, “Fuck off.” His voice is hard, serious. “Leave.” Some of the guys around back him up, swearing and egging your ex on.

You look up at him, arms crossed and expression unmoving. When he realizes you aren’t going to say anything else, he scoffs, throwing the cup on the ground and turning to go.

“Thanks for the drink, Mate!” The man behind you says it like a laugh, your ex turning sharply only to get pushed back by two men you don’t recognize. “You alright?”

You almost don’t realize he’s talking to you, he moves your hair out of your face, alcohol still splattered on you. “Yeah… Are you?”

He shakes his head, his brunette waves getting rid the drink like a wet dog. He looks up at you, still unanswered, but he just smiles again.

He’s got a damn good smile. In fact, he’s got a damn good face. “I’m Franco.” He holds out his hand, the limb barely fitting in between you two.

Hm. Franco. “Y/n.” You nod, “Sorry for earlier-“

“You’re sorry?” His eyebrows raise, “I’m sorry. I would have kissed you better than that if I knew your cheater ex was here.”

You almost laugh, the idea so wild that for a second, you’re rendered speechless, “Better than that?”

Franco likes this, properly grinning now. “Of fucking course this happens to you-” a curly haired brit says on the side.

A sudden blush finds your cheeks, remembering the proximity you are to his friends. Franco shakes his head, his hand back onto your hip and oddly steadying you. “They’re just jealous that beautiful girls don’t kiss them to make ex’s jealous.”

Your lips pull into a line, rushing over the ‘beautiful’ part, “I really wasn’t thinking I just saw him and-”

“Hey! Don’t worry, love.” The nickname makes your throat tighten, “If being used gets me a hot kiss and a conversation with you… I think I'm okay with that.”

“Looks like I picked well then.” You nod, biting back a smile and dragging a hand through his damp hair, “The drink is a shame though...”

He shrugs, licking his lips, “His money��� tastes cheap anyways. Let me buy you a drink?”

You shake your head, overwhelmed at how quickly this night escalated, “Honestly after that, I should buy you one.”

He looks physically disgusted at this, “Ay… no. Don’t even joke about that. That kiss alone deserves its own bottle.”

You laugh freely now, leaning into him, “I like your accent.”

His eyes light up, his mouth slightly parted in a smirk as you close the distance once again, “I like you.”

“You don’t even know me, Franco!”

He bites his lip, his eyes flicking to yours, “I have a feeling I will soon.” You let him kiss you again, he’s slower now, more calculated, tasting like straight vodka. What doesn’t change is his smile against your reddened lips.

[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

Part 2

[ivysprophecy]

good graces

warnings: (did i write this watching a nonsense christmas? maybe?) i dont think there is any, cursing?

word count: 1061

summary: jj thinks he needs a big gesture to apologize about the previous nights' events, but when he gets back youre just as anxious to make up for your mistakes.

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@bernardsbendystraws divider

jj's been gone an hour. i thought he was supposed to be back sooner than this?

ive been sitting in the chateau all day bouncing my leg nervously or pacing the house or throwing rocks into the water. anything to calm my nerves.

im drawing in the dirt when his bike finally pulls up to the house.

hes wearing a helmet? since when does he wear a helmet? ive been yelling at him to get one for months.

i watch as he swings his leg over the seat of his bike and takes off the helmet and shakes his head letting his hair fly free. he hates when it sticks to his ears.

then he finally sees me sitting on the poarch.

"what the hell are you doing out here?? go back inside!!" he runs up to me dropping his bag on the ground shooing me back into the house.

ive never been so shocked by something he's said before. literally jaw dropped.

"excuse me? jj im trying to talk to you- apologize to you! why are you acting like this??" i shove him back as he urges me through the screen door.

"mama you can apologize later im trying to set up your surprise youre gonna ruin it- get your cute ass inside-" he turns me back around and moves me through the door.

i let out a little chuckle with a hint of scoff "jj im still fucking mad at you- what the hell are you doing?"

"im fixing what i fucked up," he leans down and kisses me chastely before grinning, "now sit down on the couch and wait for my say so, pretty please."

"youre being awfully demanding for someone on thin fucking ice."

"it will be worth it mama i promise. please?"

okay im mad at him... but hes being really cute. i think that outweighs my guilt.

"fine... but im not waiting forever."

"it will only be a few minutes. i promise," he kisses me forehead after i sit on the couch and runs back out the front door leaving me dazed and confused.

what has this boy got up his sleeve?

after another ten minutes of nervously waiting in the house, scrolling through my phone, bouncing my leg, biting off my finger nails, i hear the sound of 'you are in love' by taylor swift blaring from a speaker outside.

and he KNOWS thats my favorite song from my favorite album.

THAT catches my attention, and im taking it as his clue to finally come outside.

when i finally make it onto the poarch i let out an audible gasp covering my mouth at the sight. this stupid amazing outrageous throughtful fucking idiot.

theres sea shells spelling out sorry on the lawn, and hes sitting there with my favorite flowers that grow from my secluded beach reading spot, a bag of my favorite breakfast foods, and two helmets for his bike. with both our intitals.

"im really fucking sorry mama... i didnt get a chance to explain myself- i swear id never do that to you. ever. i love you so much and i know how many doubts you had about us. and sarah said id probably need to reassure you and i dont really know how to do that so i just figured id do some kind of gesture and-"

i cut off his rambling but running up to him and wrapping my arms around him, probably suffocating him but i dont really care.

this is so fucking adorable.

"thank you... you didnt have to do all of this."

"what happened to being all pissy?" he looks down at me, doing a horrible job at hiding his smirk.

"shut up... im sorry i was being so crazy. i just saw that i freaked out, i wasnt thinking. im so sorry jay-"

he gently grabs my face, pressing a small kiss to my forehead, "i know... and i shouldve made it clearer what had happened and reassured you. im not good at this boyfriend stuff, but im trying. with sarahs help if were being honest."

"youre doing great jj... this whole gesture is so sweet and thoughtful. im sorry that im a crazy girlfriend who flies off the handle when the slightest thing goes wrong."

jj shrugs innocently, sitll having me in his arms, "i dont mind it. it was kinda hot."

"youre such a pig," i smile leaning up and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to his lips, "so... forgiven?"

"youre forgiven if i am."

"you already were."

i lean over and pick up the flowers hed set down so i could hug him, bringing them to my nose.

they have a faint salty smell of the ocean stuck on them, thats one of the reason i love them. that and wild flower bouquets are really freaking pretty.

"these are perfect... thank you jj- really. this is so perfect."

"im glad you like it mama... it was this or me begging on my knees for forgiveness."

"i wouldve loved either option," i joke. "and i promise i will do better to communicate more clearly," i press pause on the speaker so we can hear each other a little better.

jj sits me down on our hammock still holding me close to his side.

"i know you will, we both got shit to work through but were gonna be fine. im not givin up on you that easy."

"you put up with a lot from me."

"eh, its worth it all in the end. when we go to bed."

"god you are such a perv!" i bump him with my shoulder laughing. while hes laughing with me i find the back of breakfast food and stealthily take it from his side and start to snack on it. "god this is so good. youre an angel."

jj throws an arm around my shoulder pressing another kiss to my temple.

"eat up. im gonna clean this up before everyone gets back and makes fun of me. do you wanna keep the shells?"

i nod shoving a bite of hashbrowns in my mouth enthusiastically.

"alright then," he heads to the yard picking up all the shells and putting them in his backpack for me to keep. maybe ill make stuff out of them so we have them forever, to remember this.

like a picture frame or a coffee mug or something crafty.

[lemoncrushh]

Drunk Me Is Like Regular Me

Summary: You and Harry have a cute and silly evening together. AKA, Harry can't help being cute, even when he's drunk.

Warnings: just some drinking and penis jokes

Word Count: 1061

A/N: This is just a silly little blurb from 2016 based on a prompt.

You sat on the sofa next to Harry as you scrolled through your Netflix queue. Neither of you were particularly in the mood for a movie, but there wasn't much else to do. After deciding against watching your favorite drama for the millionth time and vetoing Harry's suggestion of a Monty Python movie marathon, you tossed him the remote.

"You decide," you said as you headed for the kitchen. "But no Python. I think I've heard enough about how awfully nice it is to have a penis."

You heard Harry snicker in the other room before calling out to you. "What are you doing?"

"Making a drink," you replied. "I feel like getting drunk."

"You feel like getting drunk, but no penis jokes?" he quipped.

"I'm warning you, Styles."

"Heyyy."

You returned to the living room, a glass in each hand and a smirk on your face to let him know you were teasing him. When you handed him his glass, he took it with slight hesitation, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"A Sloe Comfortable Screw."

"Seriously?" he scoffed.

"That's what it's called!" you exclaimed with a giggle, sitting next to him. "It's Sloe Gin, Southern Comfort and orange juice."

Harry inspected the contents of his glass before side eyeing you.

"It's good," you insisted after taking your own sip. "Try it."

"Alright then."

He brought the glass to his lips, taking a cautious sip followed by a generous one.

"Not bad," he admitted.

With a satisfied grin, you sat back, resting your elbow on the back of the couch.

"You know, I've yet to see you drunk."

"You've seen me drunk before," he said.

You shook your head, "No, I haven't. I've seen you a little tipsy at best. But never drunk."

Harry chuckled, his dimple dipping into his cheek.

"Tell me," you said, sitting up, "what is drunk Harry Styles like?"

He quirked a brow before taking another sip of his cocktail. He took his time swallowing, slowly lowering his glass to grin at you.

"Drunk me is like regular me, except with more grammar errors and a deeper meaning to everything."

You threw your head back laughing. "I can't wait to see that."

Harry lifted his glass. "Make me another one of these and you just might."

"Is that a promise?" you beamed with glee.

"We'll see," he rolled his eyes. "So what are we watching?"

"You were supposed to decide."

"We don't have to watch a movie," he shrugged.

"Okay...what do you wanna do then?"

Before he could respond, you stood up fast, nearly spilling your drink. "Oh!"

"Careful, love, that screw was meant to be slow, not fast."

"Let's play a game!" you exclaimed.

Harry shook his head, muttering under his breath. "She didn't get my joke."

"Shut up, yes I did," you said quickly.

"Then why didn't you laugh?"

"Because it was lame."

Harry threw his hand up in exasperation.

"Let's play a game, Harry," you repeated.

Harry mocked you, sitting on the edge of the sofa, his eyes wide. "Okay! What game?"

"A drinking game," you answered.

Taking the final gulp from his glass, he handed it to you.

"Fine. But I'll need another screw."

Rolling your eyes, you returned to the kitchen to make more cocktails. When you came back, a deck of cards in your hand, Harry eagerly accepted his second drink, a happy little glow about him.

"Hang on, tiger," you chuckled when he was about to take a sip. "Let's start the game."

You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and began to shuffle the cards.

"What's the rules?" Harry asked, sitting down next to you.

"Nothing major," you shrugged. "Just guess if the next card is higher or lower."

"That's not very fun."

"You have a better suggestion?" you raised your eyebrows. "I know you don't want me to make you play Never Have I Ever."

Harry eyed you again before nodding. "Fine."

You played back and forth for a while, each of you having to take several drinks. When Harry's glass emptied again and yours was getting close, you rose from your spot to make another round of cocktails.

"Wow," you widened your eyes when you stood, your head spinning. "I think it's kicking in."

"Not to me," Harry shrugged. "I feel good."

You chuckled at his obvious grammatical error, not sure if he had said it on purpose or not. But you knew he was probably feeling the effects of the alcohol.

When you returned with the third drink for each of you, you nearly fell on your butt until Harry caught you.

"Easy, baby," he murmured. "Maybe we should stop it with the drinking games."

"No," you pouted. "I still wanna see you drunk."

Harry smiled at you as he leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I think I am."

"So if we're not gonna play a game anymore, what are we gonna do?" you asked him.

"Why do we have to do something? Sometimes just being with someone is nice. You can talk. Or not. Whatever. But you don't always have to be doing something."

He leaned back then, resting against the sofa. His eyelids were heavy as he brought the glass to his lips. Catching you watching him, he grinned, lifting his glass higher as though to toast to you.

You shook your head as you giggled, aware that Harry was now past the tipsiness you'd seen him in before.

"I like this," Harry declared, lowering his glass to look inside it.

"The drink?" you inquired.

He shook his head. "No, this. The silence."

"Gee, thanks," you scoffed.

"No, I don't mean - don't take it that way. That's - no."

You raised your brows in question, having no idea what he was mumbling about. Harry then placed his glass on the coffee table, scooting his body closer to yours.

"It's like...this," he whispered, his eyes practically burning into yours as you stared at him.

"Like what?"

"Like...this..." Harry gestured between you. "Me and you, you and me. Just...being here...together."

"Oh - kay," you nodded slowly, still lost on what he was trying to say.

"Don't you think it means more when you can just enjoy...being?"

"Mmm...yeah, Harry, you're drunk."

"And you have beautiful eyes," he stated before surprising you with a kiss.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go… Take My Binder Off First

Pairing : Eddie Munson x Male Trans reader Tags: Trans Reader, Mentions of weed, Fluff, Established relationship Word count :1061

Eddie watched (insert name) sink further into the nest of blankets and pillows he'd assembled on his bed. The air hung thick with the sweet, hazy scent of weed, mingling with the ever-present aroma of stale cigarettes and hairspray that permeated Wayne's trailer. Outside, the crickets chirped their incessant Hawkins lullaby.

(Insert name) mumbled something unintelligible, eyes fluttering shut. A smile tugged at Eddie's lips. (Insert name) was beautiful, even half-stoned and on the precipice of sleep. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the gentle curve of his cheekbones. He looked… peaceful.

A flicker of concern cut through Eddie's fondness. “Hey,” he said softly, nudging (insert name)’s shoulder gently. “Hey, man, before you totally conk out.”

(Insert name) groaned, swatting vaguely at Eddie’s hand. “Mmm… five more minutes…”

“No can do, sleepyhead. You gotta… you gotta take that thing off first.” Eddie gestured awkwardly towards (insert name)'s chest, trying to keep his tone light.

(Insert name) opened one eye, regarding Eddie with a bleary, half-lidded stare. “'S too much effort, Eddie. Comfy.”

Eddie ran a hand through his own tangled hair, the metal of his rings clicking together. This was always a delicate dance. He knew (insert name) didn't always love being reminded, but Eddie also knew how much more uncomfortable it would be to sleep in his binder.

He picked at a loose thread on his ripped denim vest. “I know, I know, but it's gonna be way worse if you sleep in it, dude. Trust me. Ribs and all that jazz.”

(Insert name) groaned again, a longer, more drawn-out sound this time. “You just wanna see me naked, Munson. Admit it.” He said, his voice thick with sleep and laced with playful accusation.

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly . “Please, baby. I've seen you naked. Many times. I was just thinking about your well-being.”

But the truth was, yeah, he did. He loved the way (insert name)’s skin felt under his hands, the way he looked in the soft light. The genuine joy that would spread across (insert name)'s face when he felt comfortable and safe., he had the utmost respect for (insert name)’s body. It was a constant learning process, navigating (insert name)'s boundaries and desires, but Eddie was more than willing to put in the effort.

(Insert name) mumbled something else, his eyes drifting shut again. Eddie sighed. He knew this drill.

He reached over and gently shook (insert name)’s shoulder again, more insistent this time. “(Insert name). Come on. Just for a sec. I’ll even… I’ll even play ‘Iron Man’ backwards for you.”

That seemed to do the trick. (Insert name) cracked an eye open again, a reluctant smile playing on his lips. “Black Sabbath is the superior band, Munson. You know this.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play Paranoid backwards. Deal? Now, upsy-daisy.” He tugged gently at (insert name)’s arm, helping him sit up.

(Insert name) grumbled as he reached under his shirt, the familiar sounds of the binder’s being removed echoing in the small room. Eddie busied himself by straightening the already-messy blankets, giving (insert name) some space.

He knew (insert name) had a complicated relationship with his body. Eddie knew some of it was dysphoria, the feeling of disconnect between his inner self and his physical form. He knew because (insert name) had carefully, hesitantly, explained it to him one night, after too much cheap beer and a shared cigarette on Wayne’s porch. Eddie had listened, really listened, trying to understand the depth of (insert name)’s experience. He would never pretend to fully comprehend, but he would always try.

And he knew some of it was just… societal bullshit. The pressure to conform to some ridiculous, outdated standard of masculinity. Eddie, who had never given a damn about conforming to anything, found himself fiercely protective of (insert name).

Finally, the binder was off, tossed carelessly onto the floor. (Insert name) slumped back against the pillows, breathing a visible sigh of relief.

Eddie glanced over, trying to gauge (insert name)’s mood. He still looked tired and a little out of it, but there was a definite relaxation in his posture.

He grabbed one of his well-worn Black Sabbath t-shirts from the pile on the floor – oversized, faded black, and smelling faintly of Eddie himself – and tossed it to (insert name).

(Insert name) caught it with surprising reflexes, despite his drowsy state. He looked at the shirt, then back at Eddie, a small smile playing on his lips. “Generous of you, Munson.”

“What can I say? I’m a giver.” Eddie grinned, trying to inject some levity into the situation. “Besides, you look better in it anyway.”

(Insert name) chuckled, pulling the shirt over his head. The fabric swallowed him whole, the hem falling almost to his knees. He looked impossibly small and vulnerable in Eddie’s oversized shirt, and Eddie’s heart clenched.

“Thanks, Eddie.” (Insert name)’s voice was soft, sincere.

Eddie shrugged, trying to mask the intensity of his feelings with a casual gesture. “No problem,baby. Now, get some sleep. You’re starting to drool on my Dio poster.”

(Insert name) snorted, settling back into the pillows. He was asleep within minutes, his breathing evening out, his face relaxed.

Eddie watched him for a long moment, a complex mix of affection, tenderness, and protective instinct swirling inside him. He carefully adjusted the blankets around (insert name), making sure he was warm and comfortable. He picked up the discarded binder, folding it neatly and placing it on the floor beside the bed. He knew it was a temporary fix, a small gesture, but it was the best he could do in the moment.

He turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into near-darkness, the only light coming from the sliver of moon visible through Wayne’s dusty window. He crawled into bed beside (insert name), careful not to jostle him.

He lay there for a while, listening to (insert name)’s soft breathing, the rhythmic chirping of the crickets, the distant rumble of a car driving down the highway. The trailer felt small, cramped, and utterly… safe.

He reached out, tentatively, and brushed a stray strand of hair from (insert name)’s forehead. (Insert name) stirred slightly, nuzzling into the touch. Eddie smiled.

[zombiigrll]

LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

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── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────────────

it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[daddyfordaeddy]

⟣ pairing: cult! ateez x f! reader, cult leader! hongjoong x f! reader (focused), implied cultist! yunho x f! reader

⟣ genre: cult au, smut, e for explicit

⟣ warnings: consumption of alcohol (off of yn's body). !! yn is being inducted into a cult. why she decided to join the cult is up to you but while she's fully aware and accepting of it at this point in time, cults are cults. !! smut warnings under cut

⟣ word count: 1061

⟣ summary: it's the night of your initiation into the Hala Collective. the smell of crisp wine fills the air. you wonder what will happen.

⟣ written for @cultofdionysusnet's permevent (2nd submission). i do hope u all enjoy as this took me,,,,a little too long to write. <3

smut warning: licking (bear with me), food play (wine) (pls bear with me), fingering (f), marking, hongjoong makes yn taste her own release idk what to call it, implied oral (f)

-

A shiver runs up and down your spine, not from the chilly initiation hall, but from the stares on your body. But it’s all for the greater good, and so you shove down the shame and embarrassment building in your stomach and let the cloaked figures approach you slowly. You can’t help but feel nervous as the leader of the Hala Collective steps forward, letting his hood fall back and revealing his pretty face.

“YN LN, please welcome the Inner Circle of the Collective. I’m sure you remember them from your first introductions.” He smiles, all sharp angles. “Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the marble slab behind you, the size of it almost taking up half the room.

Without any words, you settle down on the edge of the marble, wincing a little at the chill you feel. Having to forgo clothes for this, you feel every stare on your naked form. “What will happen?” You can't help but to voice your curiosity.

Kim Hongjoong chuckles, stepping closer, his eyes wandering appreciatively over your chest. “We will pour our sacred wine on you, and swallow you whole. Then you will be reborn.”

You nod once, and that’s enough for Hongjoong as he reaches out and gently guides you to lay back on the marble. Your eyes squeeze shut at the cold stone against your back and you can hear soft chuckles from above you.

“If you must, you may keep your eyes shut. We will begin the pouring now.” That’s the only warning you get before you feel a cooling sensation on your sternum and you gasp, your eyes flying open.

All you see is a few faces hovering over you, their eyes covered by ornate swan masks. “Lay still,” one of them murmurs, his eyes soft but his smile wolfish. “It will be pleasurable, we’ll make sure of that.”

You nod almost imperceptibly before closing your eyes again, letting your mind be lost in the feeling of the wine dripping down your body. It doesn’t last for long before they fly open again, wet tongues pressing against your skin and lapping up the wine. An involuntary whine leaks its way out of your throat and your hands fly up to cover your mouth in embarrassment.

“Do not worry your pretty head about it,” Hongjoong’s warm voice floats in above you, his body far enough you cannot see him. He is not participating in the drinking of wine. “Like we said, the wine has been poured, and now we swallow you whole,” he repeats. His hand reaches out to stroke your head gently, and your eyes flutter shut once more.

With each swipe of their tongues, you can feel wetness pool beneath your legs, and then none of them make any move to dip lower than your hips, letting the stray streaks of wine drip down to mix with your slick. Their fingers dance over your skin, pressing your hips down and playing with your nipples when you keep still for them. You can’t decide whether to keep your eyes open or closed, whimpers and moans floating out of your mouth.

Hongjoong has moved closer to sit by your head, petting your hair, and every so often you turn your head to press your face against his warm and firm thigh. He doesn’t seem to mind, soft chuckles escaping his throat every time you mouth subconsciously against his clothed leg. You both hate and love how their touches are almost enough, your orgasm dancing just out of reach.

With one final kiss to your nipple, all the touches but Hongjoong’s quickly pull away and your eyes slowly open and you sit up to see them back to their original places in a circle around you. “What’s next?” Your question comes out breathily, a red flush on your cheeks from how worked up you are.

“You are,” Hongjoong answers easily, his voice dipping down into a low rumble as his hand shifts from your head down to your face, your neck, your torso, brushing against your breasts, and finally dipping down between your legs to your untouched core. “This is the last part of the ritual, and you will finally be one of the Collective. Do not fear, we will not hurt you.”

“I don’t fear,” you hum, eyelids fluttering as his fingers trace your folds and press against your clit.

“Good.”

It’s the last thing Hongjoong says before his fingers press into your waiting hole and you sigh through your nose, hips canting up at the pleasure finally searing through your bones. His fingers curl up, twisting as they pump in and out of you, bringing you slowly to the edge. The slick sounds of your cunt echo through the hall, your moans stilted.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of Hongjoong’s thigh, sure to leave marks despite the robe covering. The only reaction he provides is a delighted giggle, his fingers pistoning even faster into you, his other hand coming over to thumb at your clit, causing you to practically scream into his thigh. The pleasure is building at a much faster rate, and before you know it, your thighs clench and your pussy practically swallows Hongjoong’s fingers.

“Come for me, darling, and you will join us and live forever young,” Hongjoong whispers into your ear, and your back arches, his fingers pressing impossibly deeper into you until your thighs still and your breathing evens out. You can’t help the shudders racking through your body every so often, but Hongjoong’s fingers have stilled as he helps you ride through your high.

Once you finally come back down, Hongjoong withdraws his fingers, moving them up to your mouth. “Clean them,” he commands, and with no hesitation, you lean forward, licking him clean until only your saliva remains.

Hongjoong huffs out a pleased laugh. “Sit here, okay? You’ll be cleaned and shown to your new rooms, okay?” When you nod, he snaps his fingers, pointing to one of the Inner Circle. When they step forward, he pats the stone beside you. “Yunho, you’ll clean them up. Make sure to do a…thorough job.”

Yunho nods, and Hongjoong slips out of the room, the rest of the Inner Circle following silently. The lone member pulls down his hood, revealing his sharp features and matching grin. “Just relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, bending down to come face to face with your throbbing pussy. “We’ll be done shortly.”

[yup-i-am-weird]

I Care

Ship : Loki x GN!Reader

Synopsis : Reader attempts suicide but Loki is there to rescue them in time.

Word Count : 1061

TW : Suicide attempt, depression, self harm, panic attack, (grammatical errors?, english is not my first language) etc.

Please don't read if any of this triggers you.

You were hiding behind a soil wall you created with you elemental powers, three children none aging more than ten standing beside you as the enemies rained fire. It was in a middle of a fight when some terrorist organisation had decided to hijack a building and you guys were busy fighting them while simultaneously evacuating the building. Normally it would have been an easy task but it turned out that the organisation was linked to hydra and had got their hold on some dangerous weapons. Currently you were rescuing three kids as you tried to protect them from the attack.

"Y/N, take the kids and leave, now!", Steve said on the comms. Taking his orders you were about to leave with the kids to help them to a safer place when you spotted a man dragging himself on the floor, his head bleeding from side with his leg twisted in a uncomfortable position clearly broken, you take in the sight as the flashback of your own father's similar injury hits you, making you let out a small gasp. You continue watching the man for a couple of seconds until Clint shows up and helps the man.

The kids were still beside you, until one was not, as you turned around you heard him scream, one the terrorist had gotten to the little boy and was holding him in a tight grip, "Help me inside the building or he dies", the man said from behind the mask as the kid got more and more scared. At a distance you notice Natasha almost getting stabbed by a knife and you stop it in mid air by manipulating the wind. The terrorist on the other hand uses your distraction to his advantage shooting the kid and running inside the building with his crew. "No!", is all you could say as you hear the gunshot.

Later at the compound

"Y/N, what the hell were you thinking, you had enough time to save that kid!", Tony yells at you as you visibly wince at his words. "Tony, it's enough, leave it", Steve tries to calm him down. "I am not sure, if you see it Cap, but their distraction is evident, they are always so lost!", Tony says sharply as his words cut threw you.

Later, you go to your room, letting the weight of what just happened sink. You were a terrible person, you couldn't even get past a mission without distraction. That innocent kid did not deserve to die. It was only because of you that he was dead. He had so much life ahead of him but your recklessness got him killed. Nobody likes you. No one. You are a fool. They all hate you. You are useless.

You sat in you room thinking these things over and over, again and again as your head starts to hurt and tears start streaming down your face as you harshly grip the bed sheets, then your hair, and soon without releasing you are scratching your wrists with nails leaving small red marks all over. You are crying and feeling overwhelmed, almost on the verge of a panic attack, as you blame yourself for the boy's death and feel completely useless and unwanted. They all hate you. No one would care you if you just disappeared. Your brain tells you.

After about half an hour, you go to the roof top, deciding to end all the pain forever. You take the elevator and reach the top of the tower. A weird serenity surrounded the area which was in complete contrast to the storm inside of you, which had you trapped in it so bad that you couldn't take it anymore. You took a step forward. The sky had a tinct of pink and orange as the sun was setting, the noise from street below wasn't really audible from this height. Why was it so peaceful? Why was nature so calm when you were not. You felt more angry and hurt at the sight. You did not understand why you couldn't feel this calm and relaxed and someone else could.

You were still crying, and continued moving forward slowly till you were almost at the edge when suddenly, "Y/N! Stop! What are you doing?", you heard Loki's voice call from behind you with a sense of urgency in his voice. You turn out to find him looking frightened and concerned. "What are you doing? What are you thinking? Get away from the edge! Now!", he said still sounding panicked. "Just let me go", you say through tears. "No, I am not letting you go, i cannot", he says stepping forward, coming close to me. "No one cares, Loki, I am just a burden for everyone, i keep making mistakes, I am of no use", you say crying. "No, Y/N, I care about you, you are not a burden and this isn't the answer to anything, taking your life won't help, you can't give up", he says gently gripping my shoulders.

"I give up,Loki, I am weak, I am very weak", you say still crying hysterically. "Y/N. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are the strongest person I know, you remember you are the one who told me mistakes don't define a person, that waiting and trying can always make things better, and pain only makes us stronger, remember?", he asks looking at you with concern and gentleness as you nod your head yes. "Then why are you giving up yourself?, I know you are strong, and I care about you and always will", he says pulling you close to his chest as you cry more.

"Shhh, it will all okay, I am here, just don't try to take your life again, please, it hurts me, I don't know how will I survive without you", Loki says, his own voice breaking now, as he speaks with a hint of vulnerability. "I am sorry", is only what you can say. "Don't apologise", he says and holds you till you have calmed down, rubbing circles on your back. "I love you Y/N, I love you a lot, I cannot live without you, please stay with me", he says, shedding a couple of tears, "You, love me?", you ask little surprised, "More than you know" is all he says as he pulls you closer.

[bccky]

Souls Intertwined By Fate

Part 2

Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader

Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?

Words: 1061

Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced

A/N: revamped fic of my own. It's been almost an year since I posted the first part, I'm extremely sorry for the long pause hehe // Dividers by @firefly-graphics // hope you like this one Xx

⇤ PART 1

Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist

GIF by saucynewf

A shiver runs down your spine as you stand behind the Roadhouse, and you can't tell if it's because of the cold biting air or the green eyes that are trying to cloud your mind. 

There aren't many things that can scare you now, but now that you have found your soulmate, even thinking about him gives you shivers - and not the good kind.

"Thank you," You whisper to Jo as she sneaks a few bottles of the strongest rum through the backdoor. Your only objective now is to avoid Ellen and whoever that guy was. 

You don't want to know his name... It will make this all too real. 

"You owe me a big one." Jo says and you nod, wanting to cut your time here as short as possible.

Her questioning glances every few seconds are enough for you to know that she's just waiting for an opening to ask why you are suddenly stocking up on your favorite bottles of alcohol, and you're not ready to tell her why.

Realizing you forgot to bring your car to the back, you sigh, bidding farewell to Jo with a hug. 

You almost start running once she closes the door towards your car that you parked in the front, stashing your bag in the car, as you start the ignition. 

You're ready to step on the accelerator and be away from your soulmate, the person who's going to be your doom. You can't help but peek at the bar as you pass by and you're sure you see the dirty blond hair that is going to haunt your dreams from now on. 

The bottles Jo smuggled are just so that you can lay off from visiting the Road House as much as you can. 

It's no secret that whoever drops by the bar is sure to become a regular thanks to Ellen's hospitality, connections and knowledge of the supernatural, that is, unless anyone gives her a reason to clear off. 

The fear makes you drive as far as possible from the only people who you now call your family in search of hunts, but that doesn't mean you can run from what you have named as 'the Soulmates Curse'. 

You end up at a diner in a small town with a supposed haunted cabin in the nearby woods, taking a breath of relief as you see an empty seat by the window.

You put down all the resources you have on the table for the current case you're working on, using it as a distraction. 

But as you’re settling, a high pitched giggle catches your attention. There’s a family in the park near the diner which you can see clearly from your seat.

You get a weird feeling in your heart, a sense of longing for what you once had. The parents laze around on a picnic blanket, happily watching the children who are running around and playing with each other.

You wonder if you’ll ever get to live and love like that again.

“Hey,” a deep voice pulls you out of your chain of thoughts, and you look up to see a man with dark, gelled-back hair, a stubble gracing his genial smile, "You okay?" 

Not gonna lie, you feel like a high school girl starting to fall for the cute guy in class, your insides warm as your body feels flush.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You say to yourself, although you know that it isn't true, it's the only way to convince your mind that you're doing the right thing by saving yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.  

“I’m Chris, your server for the evening. What can I get you?”

Chris’ deep brown eyes make you want to forget everything, and for some reason, it makes you feel like you’re cheating on your non-existent relationship.

 “Just a cheeseburger and fries, Chris. Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.” He winks at you with another one of his charming smiles, and you almost melt.

Your mind is in overdrive now.

The happy family directly in your sights are confusing your one-track mind, making you want that kind of contentment in your life as well.

As Chris brings your order to your table, you can’t help but ask, “The town is quite charming, huh?”

He laughs, “Yep, just a small, peaceful town. Except for Old Neil’s Cabin, it’s a nice place to live. And if you don’t believe in ghost stories, we don’t have many problems here.”

And with that, your yearning mind starts planning out an ordinary life in this town, hoping that your soulmate will have a peaceful death and since you won’t be attached to him, you won't feel much when the inevitable happens.

If you get rid of the ghost, then you can see yourself getting old here, preferably with a handsome man like Chris, and have a little family.

Back at the Harvelle’s Roadhouse, Dean Winchester takes a sip of his beer and sighs, tapping on the wooden bar, deep in thought.

Sam is talking about something or the other with Jo, not paying mind to Dean, who honestly doesn’t care. He is too occupied with the girl from last night who has been making his heart skip a beat every few minutes as little things around him keep reminding him of you.

Dean smiles to himself as a warmth spreads in his heart, hopeful that you are having a good time, whoever, and wherever you are.

“What’s up with him?” Jo asks Sam softly, not wanting to rob him out of whatever was cheering him on.

“No one ever knows with him.” Sam shrugs, throwing an amusing smile at his brother, not that he noticed. “He has been a little hush since yesterday.”

“Jo,” Dean speaks out of the blue, bursting the bubble he had built around him.

“Yeah?” She replies, in anticipation of knowing what his next words will be, curious about what he had been contemplating all this while.

“Do you know a girl around our age in the hunting business?”

“To be quite frank, there are a lot. I can’t just tell who you’re talking about just from that.”

Dean takes the last drink out of his glass before turning towards Jo, giving her a serious look.  “She was here yesterday.”

“Oh, you mean Y/N?” 

And with that, Dean’s life takes a different turn again.

Part 3

I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx

I wanna get back into writing again, can you send in any requests or something? Thanks in advance :)

Wanna read more of my works? Check out the masterlist linked at the top!

I'm not tagging anyone this time because it has been so long since I last posted this series, or anything to be honest, so please let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next parts (let me know in the reblogs)!

[nenehyuuchiha]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake Additional Tags: Jason Todd is Red Hood, Competent Jason Todd, References to Titans Tower, Jason being an irritating older brother, Humor, Tim underestimating Jason because he was the "reckless" Robin, and it biting him in the ass lol Summary:

a squib: a broken firecracker that burns but does not explode.

Jason didn't try to kill Tim in Titans Tower. Tim doesn't believe him, but Jason's gonna prove it.

[mywritersmind]

Fewtrell reader is staying over at Maxs and hes out and Lando comes over and asks “is he home?” and she offers to let him in and wait and the tension is HIGHHH (hes her childhood crush) and you can be creative from here. 🫣

FUCK WITH MY HEAD - LN4

listen up : banter banter banter!! mentions of sex. ty for the request this like vibe is always in my mind (flirty bantery brothers best friend)

word count : 1061

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m not even dressed yet, but the consistent knocking and ringing of the doorbell is driving me mad, “Whoever you are, you better have a good reason!” I yell at the unknown person as I yank open the door, only a towel wrapped around me. “Of course it’s you.”

“Wow, not even a hello? And I thought we were friends.” Lando Norris stands in front of me, holding his chest like I've hurt his heart. His eyes check out my towel situation before asking, “Your brother home?”

I practically groan in his face, walking away from the door, “You couldn’t have texted him!? He’s gone for another hour.” I say as I slam the door of the guest bedroom closed so I can change in peace.

I hear the front door shut, “Someone’s in a good mood today.” I mock him only for myself to see as I pull on white shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

I walk back out, breathing deeply and reminding myself that he can’t get to me if I don’t let him, “You’re sort of ruining my only time alone this week.” I’m visiting my brother and as much as I love the guy, he’s fucking obnoxious to live with.

“Had to listen to P and Max go at it, huh?” He leans over the counter, taking a crisp from my bowl.

I make a disgusted face at him, “You’re disgusting and you know for a fact I would be gone if that happened.”

“Wish I was spared from their sex life.” I roll my eyes and pour myself some water, “So… How’s your trip been?”

Small talk? Seriously weird coming from Lando.

“Why are you here anyways?” I don’t answer his question, he stands and joins me at my side, “You know that phone you have? It actually can message someone so you don’t randomly show up to their house!” I smile and blink at him.

He takes another crisp, “But then I wouldn’t be getting this lovely time with you.” I shake my head as I sip my water, pretending not to notice Lando’s eyes roam my body.

It’s a weird feeling to look back at your childhood crush in general; but when your childhood crush is your best friend's brother, famous, rich, and ridiculously attractive, it’s even worse.

Lando Norris was the object of my desire at thirteen and clearly I was onto something. He's dressed in a black shirt and jeans, sporting sneakers and a singular ring on his middle finger.

Still, like every historically accurate childhood crush, Lando never showed any interest. Until we hit our 20s and Lando learned how to flirt.

I don’t see him often, we would run into each other during breaks or holidays. I watch quadrant videos while I do my makeup or races while I pick out an outfit, but Lando hasn’t been this close to me in a while.

The last time we were like this was the beginning of last year. Like I said, we see each other for some holidays. I happened to be invited to his and Max’s new year’s party.

I also happened to be Lando’s new year's kiss. Maybe a bit more, but a lady never tells.

I fake sweetness, twirling my hair, “I’m honored! Lando Norris likes,” My voice goes dry and I walk away from him, “ruining my me time!”

I hear him chuckle as I sit on the couch with my food and phone, “You get sassier everytime I see you.”

I bite into my food, “As I should.”

“And hotter.” I’m paused with my food halfway in my mouth. What the fuck.

I take a breath, not daring to look back, “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Why? I know you like it.” how is his voice attractive?

I turn around, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, leaning back against the counter. “Max.” I say simply.

“Last time I checked,” He pushes off the counter, walking to the couch and looking down at me, “Max isn’t here.”

“You’re getting far too optimistic.” I look up at him, “Fame going to your head?”

“No I think it’s just you…” His gaze stays fixed on me, “In my head, I mean.” He does this shit too often. Gets in my head while boosting his confidence. I blush and he smirks, it’s a sick cycle that I can’t help but love.

His eyes are glued to mine, I narrow them, trying to figure out his aim here.

“Get in line.” I roll my eyes and turn back to my food and open my phone. I see him bite back a smile, jumping over the couch and laying face up.

He tilts his head back at me while I text my friend, “So… Uni. How many boyfriends have you got?”

I don’t look at him, “I’m currently dating my textbooks. Who has the time?”

“Alright, how many fuck buddies you got?” I eye him, all cute and upside down.

I put my phone down, “You really wanna know the truth?”

“Are my feelings gonna get hurt?”

I look away and he sits up, looking at me in that way I hate so much. It’s not even been twenty minutes and he’s already fucking with my head.

He scoots closer to me and I push my hand over his face to get him away, “You’re ridiculous. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He doesn’t look away, he never seems to have an issue with eye contact when it comes to me, “What am I doing?” His tone is egging me on, “Go on. Tell me.”

I shake my head, “You’ve got that look in your eye… Like how you looked at me during new years.” The corner of his mouth lifts at the memory.

“Is that a bad thing?”

I sigh, what am I supposed to do? We never talked about it. Max could never know. And as attracted to him as I am, It will never happen again.

I tilt my head a bit, “What are you gonna Lando? Fuck me on my brothers couch?” I catch the slight blush on his cheeks, how his eyes flicker down.

Then he looks back up at me, but not meeting my eyes, his smile grows, “Seems like a pretty appealing offer right now.”

I groan and stand up, “I’m resuming my me time, try not to break anything.”

“You’re not slick, darling! Think of me when you touch yourself.” He blows me a kiss, I reply with my middle finger.

[luckych]

ʚ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : gaming 🎮 ɞ

ʚ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : lee jeno x reader ɞ

ʚ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : definitely smut 😭 like there’s nothing fluffy about this ɞ

ʚ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : very short ngl, whining, mentions of tears, really suggestive but i don’t finish it, TINY BIT of voyeurism, JUST SOME KINKY FREAKY SHIT. ɞ

ʚ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : 1061 words. i know i told myself that i’d challenge myself, but i’m not in the mood. i got tests to do on monday, so this is really short for that reason. i feel the urge to die ngl.. 😭 ɞ

ʚ 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : basically, jeno is cockwarming the reader while he’s playing video games.. there’s not much else to it ngl. ɞ

ʚ 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ : me @luckych the idea might not have come directly from me and might’ve been done before, but none of my work is plagiarized. i wrote everything by myself, so you can obviously use the idea, but do NOT take my work and pass it off as your own, please and thank you. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ɞ

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

jeno was busy in his room playing overwatch with haechan and mark. (i have never played overwatch nor do i know what their favorite game is so.. take that info however you want..) he had his headset on, shouting at his two friends to get better at the game or he was gonna stop playing with them.

you were sitting right on top of him, or should i say you were sitting on top of him while he was inside of you. how the predicament happened was that you told jeno that you were bored and you needed something to do. somehow he formed the bright idea to try cockwarming while he was playing video games.

of course you wouldn’t dare turn down the idea. i mean— it was the perfect cure to your boredom.

so that’s how you were sitting down on your boyfriend’s lap, playing on your phone while he cock was deep inside of you. it was hard to focus, believe it or not, when you just have a cock sitting inside of you but nothing is happening.

you were craving some sort of friction as your wetness was drenching him and his pants. while he was moving, it wasn't the movement that you needed. it felt nice to get some sort of collision of his tip hitting against your cervix, but you were close to pleading for more.

“haechan, either move the fuck out of the way, or play the game!,” jeno angrily yelled into his mic, his anger being through the roof. as jeno continues playing, he slams his fist against his desk, thrusting his hips as he immediately hits your g-spot.

you let out a small whine, the contact being more than enough to make your head spin. you almost drop your phone out of your hand, jerking forward at his one rough thrust. jeno immediately looks over his shoulder, seeing you softly pant against the palm of your hand.

jeno begins to smirk mischievously, keeping his hips still as he chuckles softly. after you finally caught your breath, your laid your head against his shoulder, begging and pleading for him to fuck you directly in his ear, to no avail. he still kept his hips still, playing his game more calmly than before.

“finally, haechan, do your part,” jeno said, smashing his fingers down on the keyboard as he shot at any enemies in sight. as you realized he has no plan to fuck you as you wanted, you took matters into your own hands.

you began to softly grind against his cock, feeling his cock swirl around the walls of your tight pussy. you softly moaned, your lips close towards the mic. you began to whine louder as the friction of your grinding just wasn’t good enough.

jeno immediately held your hip with his free hand, the other hand tapping the keys his game as he softly grunted. “keep still..,” jeno said in response to your grinding, gripping down on your hip tightly. he had a small scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he had to multitask.

“c’mon, jeno.. please. i need it — i need you..,” you pleaded, placing small kisses against his jawline. jeno softly grunted into the mic, neither haechan or mark batting an eye. jeno began to roughly smash his fingertips against the keys, the roughness echoing off the keys.

you knew that he wasn’t going to oblige to your demands, so you began to softly bounce against his cock, a soft squelching sound protruding from your soaking pussy. you immediately moaned, your mouth closer towards the mic. jeno placed his hand over your mouth, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

“what was that?,” mark asked, his voice being rather questioning as haechan was oblivious to the noise. jeno didn’t answer. he only thrusted his hips as the feeling of your tight, wet pussy enclosing him egged him on. you were finally gaining the pleasure you deserved, jeno’s hips thrusting up slower than you would’ve liked.

“faster.. please, faster!,” you cried out as he hit your g-spot with his cock head. you could feel him still thrusting at the same pace as he rolls his eyes with spite. you were whining like crazy, jeno still smashing his fingers on the keyboard like a madman as he had to one hand his game and keep your frantic body under his control.

as you were about to plead with him once again, he thrusted his hips hard, making you moan loudly. he immediately shoved his fingers in your mouth, haechan and mark immediately asking jeno questions as they heard the moan.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. you’re just hearing what you wanna hear..,” jeno said as he continued thrusting his hips, you sucking on his fingers with teary eyes as he chuckled softly.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

₊˚⊹ ᰔ * - honestly, i feel like this was pretty good ngl.. i could’ve out a bit more effort, but i got school. (·•᷄∩•᷅ )

₊˚⊹ ᰔ * - again, this was made by me @luckych you can use my idea, but please, don’t copy my work word for word or repost my work anywhere. that’s all i ask.. (｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡)

[karlachbrainrot]

Hello! Lil angsty prompt for you?

Can we see a Karlach POV where she's been romanced by a tiefling resist Durge, but by act 3 she's noticed Durge and Halsin getting closer/ spending more time together? (She's got in game dialogue where she's noticed them a lot by the campfire, if you speak to her about a polymance)

Karlach and Durge have been growing distant over her decision to not head back to the Hells to try and prolong her life, where as Durge has been urging her to do so.

I just think she'd have some conflict in herself between being jealous but also feeling like she doesn't have the right, since she's basically choosing to die on her terms.

Thanks for considering! :)

Let's gooooooooooooo, stan some Karlach angst in this house- how can you not. Now- although I've got 300+ hours in BG3, I have never actually played as Durge... this is gonna be fun :), gonna take a liberty here and go Fem for Durge (Apologies)

Word Count: 1061 Karlach/Teif!Fem, Resist Durge, Durge/Haslin implication, Angst, Cut between Act Two and Act Three, Karlach POV ~

Motherfucker.

She acts like I can’t see them, heads dipped down, whispering to one another. Acting as if I’m already gone. I feel the engine give a kick back, and a growl die in my throat as I keep my eyes locked on the two. 

I kick at the dirt beneath my feet. This ain’t good for me. I know better- but then again so does she. 

Damn it all.

I turn on my heel, feeling my own tail lash out from behind as I stalk away. I can’t keep watching this shit show. Can’t keep watching the love of my life start to move on from me when I’m still right here. Those eyes that used to shine just for me… staring up into another's. 

I started making my way out of camp, I just can’t be around it anymore. When I hear the trodding of footsteps behind me-

“Karlach! Where are you going?- Wait-” Fuck, not now.

I turn my head looking down at the smaller woman, and there’s a part of me that wishes she’d wipe the damn smile off her face- acting as if she’s done nothing wrong.

“What is it, Soldier?” I stop in my tracks, as I watch her face fall, her eyes scanning my face in the dark, I can feel a stab of guilt that burns away when I remember the bear man.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve missed something… did I upset you?” A laugh passes her lips, but it’s not amused. Not like the two of us have been getting along as of recent… her trying to convince me to stick around and what not.

“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you go talk to Silvanus’ preacher- see what he has to offer you.” Making sure she doesn’t miss a drop of the sarcasm in my throat. I see her brows furrow, as she steps closer to me looking up, hurt- good. “I’ve seen you two, chatting, seems like you two get on better than we ever did huh?” I gesture between the two of us, and she steps back, her face crumbling.

“Excuse me?” Her tone’s a sharp bite. “The hells are you on about? Halsin’s just a-”

“A what?” I’m seething now… she's really going to try brushing this off, now. Who would’ve thought the little Bhaal babe is actually trying to spare my feelings by denying what I saw with my own damn eyes, “A back up? Option number two when I’m good and gone? Gods, you really like stringing people along and making them your little playthings don’t you?” I can feel the engine pulsing hotter with my anger… with the heartbreak I see in her eyes- fuck- Fuck.

“I thought we had something special…” I feel the muscles in my face twitch contorting into a broken smile. “I thought I could count on you to be there for me-”

“And I thought that I could count on you to keep fucking trying instead of just deciding to give it all up!” I flinch at her words… them sending a shock of pain through me- but it’s not about me- no- no.

“Don’t try to change the sub-”

“I’m not.” She cuts me off her face crestfallen… and I can see the heart ache building behind her eyes. “Who was it that helped me through all the fucking urges- helped get me through the hardest fucking nights of my life-” she takes a breath in, and I can see her trying so desperately to not crumble… “... helped me when all I wanted to do was give up… and instead of just trying- instead of just living with me…” She puts a hand over her face, her claws digging at her skin, and I have to stop myself from reaching out to stop her- as a sigh fall forms my lips-

She has a point… in all of this… I’ve been in her corner, helping her when the blood urges get hardest… keeping her from doing something she’d regret- but…

“It’s not the same- you know it’s not the same- I can’t-” I clench my fist letting my eyes shut trying to block her out of my vision. She makes it so damn hard to stay angry with her.

“You could… you just won’t.” She sounds… so small… “You’re so damn stubborn…” “And you’re already pretending I’m gone.” I bite out, letting my eyes open and lock on to hers again, “isn’t it enough to just have me while I’m here- instead of running off to the next tree you can climb?” and that’s when I spot the tear stains on her face glinting from my own flames… I’d done this… I can feel the engine lurch in my chest as I look away again. “What am I supposed to do huh? Just accept going back to Avernus- back where Zariel could get her hands on me, and drag you down with me?” I put a hand over my face, “I- can’t bring you into that shite- and I won’t let Zariel even think she’s got a shot…” I turn my eyes back over to Halsins tent.

“Go give your tears to someone who will be around in a tenday to dry em off for you…” I turn again… I can’t be around her anymore… fuck it hurts.

“Karlach…” I can feel her hand grip my bicep and I tug it away.

“It hurts, you know. It really hurts…” the words leave my lips in a mumble. “I want to be there for you… I want us to go old and grey, I want us- for the rest of my life.” I stop in my racks letting my hair tickle down my back as I look to the stars. “Just- let me have you… for as long as I got-”

Silence… “You want me… you’ve got me…” I can feel her hand reach out and intertwine in my own, and I can feel my own waterworks starting up. “There really is nothing… between Halsin and I- I just… it’s hard to talk to you knowing… that it's going to be one of our last…” I squeeze her hand… letting my eyes shut as I pull her forward back into my arms where she belongs, minding her horns as I rest my head on top of hers. “Just don’t leave…”