#I just like no expression crossed everything out in a minute flat

[floofymeow]

towa……..towaaaaaaaa……….

Uh so I made a character bingo if anyone wants to try it (:

[cheraverse]

garlic. — lee minho 이민호

masterlist ; genre full fluff includes bestfriend!minho, cooking, mention of blind date, accidental burns, kissing.

“in which your best friend seemed to hate your recent blind date.”

“wait, what do you want me to do again?” you frowned, looking at the messy kitchen counter confusedly. so many things happened at the same time. you tried to remember minho’s instruction. crack the egg? chopped the garlic? something to do with the butter?

“nevermind, just sit down,” minho pointed at the dinner table on the other side of the room with his chin. both of his hands are too busy with the mixing bowl.

you obeyed his words and made your way to sit on the chair, “so, as i was saying,” you positioned the chair to be closer to the cooking scene, “i think he is almost perfect. like, he is arguably good-looking, and he treated me nice–”

CLANG!

you jumped a little, “dude, calm down,” the way minho threw the bowl to the sink is totally unnecessary.

“slipped,” minho seemed indifferent; he returned to the cutting board as if nothing ever happened. his furrowed brows and pursed lips made him look intimidating when he focused.

“okay, back to–” minho’s eyes didn’t stray far from his cutting board. the knife in his hand, satisfyingly cutting through the beef, “are you even listening?” the lack of response from minho irritated you a little. your mouth has been running, trying to tell him about your blind date earlier, and it seems like he didn’t pay any bit of attention.

“yeah, yeah,” minho finally answered, but still had his eyes on something else, “he smells bad, right?” he put the sliced beef on the frying pan. the pan sizzled loudly, filling the room with its sharp sound

“right,” you nodded, “do you think it’s a deal breaker?” you stood up to get closer to him. the scent of the food-in-the-making attracted your hungry stomach.

“well,” minho stirred the pan as he poured some sliced onion, “yes,” he juggled the pan like the chefs you see on a cooking show.

“but everything else about him is perfect,” you watched as he added things to the pan, secretly amazed at how cool he looked right now, “he likes cats, he's well educated, and he even brought a bouq—OW!”

some oil splashed onto your hand, not much, but enough to cause some scorching sting. without thinking much, minho quickly turned off the stove and dragged you to the sink. he gently brought your burnt hand under the running water, “didn’t i tell you to sit down?” his voice is sharp, cold, and clearly irritated.

“well, you kept ignoring me!” you flinched a little when the water touched a specific part of the burnt.

minho scoffed, still holding your hand under the running water, “your story sucks i don’t want to bother listening,” he kept turning your hand slightly, inspecting the damage on your skin.

“what the hell?” you freed your hand from him, causing water to splash a little, “what is wrong with you?!”

minho stood back but still tried to make you put your hand back under the water, “your wound need to be cooled down for twenty minutes,” he pointed at the sink.

“no, what is up with you?” you frowned, watching his flat expression. you asked out of sarcasm, “what? are you jealous or something?”

“yes.”

you opened your mouth, ready to counter his answer with another snarky remark. wait. you looked at his eyes, wondering if you were mistaken. did he just say yes?

“wha–”

“what?” minho raced your words. he awkwardly pointed at the sink again, “keep your hand under the water,” he brushed his nose and walked away to the other room, “i’ll look for a cooling gel.”

it took you some time to assess the situation, “wait—what did–minho!” you quickly turned off the sink and grabbed some tissues to dry your dripping hand. you stormed to chase minho only to find him standing in the doorway.

the look on his face is oddly serious, “you know what,” minho stepped closer to you, “i’m good-looking and i smell nice, why wouldn’t you date me?” he crossed his arms, watching you with his sharp gaze.

you blinked frantically, never expecting this kind of conversation to come out of his mouth, “no, wait–”

“no?” he dropped his hand, visibly looking upset. he scoffed loudly, “you’ve been complaining to me that you never met a decent guy,” minho took another bold step, forcing you to quietly retreat, “AND YET, YOU. NEVER. TAKE. MY HINTS.”

you took some time to go back to the lane of your memories. analyzing every interaction you had with him. but your brain short-circuited, “...what?”

“woah, are you that dumb?” minho brushed his hair back and laughed irritably.

you pointed at him angrily, “okay, now that’s just mean.”

minho wiped his face exhaustedly, “sorry,” he sighed. he buried his face on his palms, thinking how the hell he would escape from this situation.

“yes,” you said in the silence.

“what?” minho’s brows furrowed, looking at you confused.

“are you that dumb?” you asked, enjoying the satisfying feeling of using his own words, “your first question. yes.”

minho blinked a few times. his eyes stayed on you, yet his mind wandered around. it took him half the time to understand your words and half the other panicking, “wait, are you serious?”

“after this dramatic confession, you expect me to turn you down?” you crossed your arms, smirking at minho’s dumbfounded face, “took you long enough. i actually had a crush on you when we first met. i just buried it because i thought–”

minho abruptly squeezed your cheeks with both of his hands, “can i kiss you to shut you up?”

you could see how his eyes were studying your lips. you wondered if he had always been tempted to kiss you before, and you were too oblivious to notice.

at the sight of your nod, minho promptly put his lips on yours. the kiss was slow and careful, yet so passionate. something about it felt new and familiar at the same time. it’s probably his minty breath or the scent of his body wash; you realize you’ve never smelled it this up close before.

both of you pulled back, and the awkward tension started to storm in. you touched your heated cheeks, wondering if he noticed it. but the joke’s on you. minho’s face is painted just as red, probably redder than yours. he tried to dodge your gaze, “what?”

“your hands smell like garlic,” you blurted.

minho snorted, his usual smug grin returning. “you’re welcome.”

[g0dlyunsub]

favorite addiction.

you’re addicted to cigarettes, spencer’s addicted to you. he finds a way to help you through your withdrawal.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: mentions of cigarettes and withdrawal symptoms, light makeout sesh at the end

word count :: 1.1k

author’s note :: thank you to @ellamaianderson for the original request! i also used actual quotes from a cm episode, iykyk :) + this is set in spencer's apartment

accompanying song :: antidote by orion sun

“what’s wrong?”

you turn to see your boyfriend, who’s looking at you with perturbed eyes and furrowed brows. he sits on the couch, extending his legs and resting with his hands behind his head.

“uh, nothing?” you return, lightly drumming the table with your pen. if spencer can hear through your seething lie, he doesn’t mention it.

everything feels wrong. your mind feels like it’s about to combust, and your fingers twitch as you rummage under the stack of papers at the side of your – or rather, spencer’s – desk. 

your coworker’s email was giving you an especially hard time, since he requested a last minute change to the company’s budget reports a minute before midnight. you sigh as you continue to let your fingers hastily surf through the pile, only to stop when you don’t encounter the familiar casing.

“are you looking for this?” you hear spencer clear his throat.

you swallow and shift your body to face him. he’s waving your cigarette pack almost tauntingly, shaking it left and right with a cheesy grin. you sigh as you try to piece together a mental simulation for how your pack moved from your desk to his hand; you could’ve sworn it was underneath your papers just five minutes ago. but that doesn’t matter. the tip of your tongue tingles with an urgent desire to be satiated with a puff of smoke. you need one so desperately.

you walk over to the couch and lay your hand out flat in front of spencer’s face.

“alright, give me that, spence.”

surprisingly, he lets you have it. he gently places the pack on the palm of your hand, watching with anticipating eyes to see your next move.

rolling your eyes, you turn the flap of the box, only to see it’s completely empty. you look to see the culprit staring back at you with wide eyes and an apologetic smile. it’s hard to get mad when he’s looking at you so sweetly, like he’s marveling at you.

“spencer? what did you do with… all of them?” you ask at last, surveying the room for any signs of your lost cigarettes.

silence courses through the entire room until spencer stands. your boyfriend looms over you, and with the room’s gold light swimming between the strands of his hair and his eyelashes, he looks ridiculously handsome. 

“y/n, a cigarette takes–”

“six minutes off my life. i know, spence,” you interrupt.

“it’s six minutes less that i get to spend with you,” spencer continues.

spencer and his pretty words. a blush rises over the collar of your shirt. your neck is burning by the time spencer stoops slightly to meet you at eye level.

“you haven’t had one in eighteen hours. you’re doing great. so, so great.” 

a dimple blossoms in his right cheek as he speaks, and his warm smile complements his tender voice perfectly. it's embarrassing to know that he's counting the hours since your last cigarette, but comforting to know that he's willing to take the steps to challenge you, for the sake of your own health.

you pout as you run dry of ideas, a refutation failing to surface on your lips. spencer chuckles, watching as your face contorts into a frustrated expression. 

“those were ten bucks,” you say as a pucker between your eyebrows surfaces.

“you know, in about six hours, there won’t be any nicotine left in your system, and you’ll likely experience even stronger cravings for a cigarette. you might want to drink some water and stay hydrated,” spencer ignores, instead offering a hand to take you to the kitchen.

but you cross your arms in front of your chest, a disapproving look overtaking your face.

“but what are you going to do about me?” you ask, to which spencer raises an eyebrow.

“what do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head to the side slightly. you roll your eyes.

“well? i’m sad now. i’ve got no more cigarettes. i’m hungry. shouldn’t you do something about that?” you teasingly prod at his chest, and you see how he clenches his jaw.

“what do you want me to do about it?” he inquires further, taking a step closer to you.

“i don’t know, you tell me,” you barely whisper as he closes the gap even further. your breath draws in and out rapidly, and your pulse quickens with rhythmic pounds. you’re sure you can hear the air tremble in your windpipe.

“something like… this?” he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears as he leans to whisper the words in your ear. goosebumps travel along your entire body, making you gulp. he plants a soft kiss at the base of your neck, right above your clavicle. the strands of his hair lightly caress your cheek, leaving a cozy yet shuddering feeling to spread throughout. 

“something like that,” you purr, closing your eyes shut when he takes your hand and laces his fingers with yours. his graceful fingers rub against your skin gingerly.

“keep your eyes closed,” you hear him murmur.

“for what, spence? if this is another one of your ploys– mm!”

before you can finish, spencer’s lips are pressed against yours. your mouth parts slightly, and you can taste his tongue – a blissful blend of double-shot espresso, chocolate, and salted butter. your hand moves up along the back of his body and rests in his tangled hair, light curls wrapped around your fingers like they want to latch on to your warmth.

there's no need for words. your inhales and exhales increase in pace with each passing second, and spencer’s hand snakes between the side of your chest and your hips, driving you a little bit insane.

you only realize that the warmth on your lips is gone when he transfers his soft kisses to your neck right under your jaw, a wet string of saliva slipping from your tongue to the moist area near your thyroid. 

after several heartbeats, you open your eyes to see spencer drinking in the sight of you, warm eyes twinkling and hypnotic under the lighting.

“did you know that popcorn could help with cigarette cravings? it’s actually best to avoid spicy and sugary foods when you’re trying to quit, since they tend to make cigarettes taste better. so… do you want some?” he breathes, lightly squinting as he asks.

you laugh before leaning in to kiss him once more, “so that’s why you tasted like salted butter.”

“is it working?” he replies after you pull back.

“i think so,” you say whilst grinning, and bury your face in his shoulder.

he pulls you in close before marking a tender kiss on your neck once again.

maybe you could get used to this.

[tokkiwrites]

summary: joel witnesses yet another fight between you and your dad, and frankly, he's tired of the way you've been talking to your old man. so he decides to teach you a lesson.

tags: pwp, dbf!joel, daddy kink, brat taming, spanking, age gap, p in v (unprotected yikes!), degradation, pet names, dirty talk galore!, creampie, head (f receiving), a short fight scene, family problems kind of, mean joel kind of.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! the third and most anticipated one i think!! dbf joel wowza! 3.46k words of just pure smut >:) hope u likey! if u see any errors..no u dont.

“You’ve always gotta push every button, don’t you?” he snapped, his words flaring like sparks off dry wood. the kitchen boomed with both your voices. “Can’t you just do what’s best for once?”

You felt your pulse quicken, anger twisting up inside you like a coiled spring. “What’s best?” you spat back, incredulous. “You mean what you think is best, don’t you? God, Dad, you can’t keep treating me like I’m some clueless kid who needs his hand held!”

His face flushed a deep red, brows pulling tight together. “If you didn’t act like a kid, I wouldn’t have to! You wanna run off and live some big-shot life, fine. But don’t you dare act like I’m the one in the wrong for worryin’ about you.”

Before you could bite out a response, the sound of a chair creaking interrupted you. Joel shifted where he sat in the living room, the leather of the old armchair groaning under his weight. He hadn’t said a word since the argument began, just sat there with his arms crossed and a distant look on his face. Now, though, he glanced over, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before sliding back to your father.

“Maybe…” Joel’s voice was low, that drawl he had stretching the word out slow and easy. “Maybe you both wanna step back a bit. Cool down some.”

Your father exhaled, frustration radiating off him in waves, but he gave a terse nod, like he knew there wasn’t any use arguing anymore. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Probably for the best.”

He threw one last look your way—one full of hurt and something else, something that looked a lot like regret—before turning sharply and stalking out of the kitchen. The front door opened and then slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the house.

You stood there for a moment, the silence thick and oppressive. Then, with a growl of frustration, you spun on your heel and stormed down the hallway to your room. The door banged shut with a sharp thud, and you collapsed onto the edge of your bed, breath coming in quick, angry bursts. You hated that he could still get under your skin like that, twist everything you said, and make you feel small, childish.

Minutes ticked by, your thoughts a jumbled mess of resentment and guilt, when you heard a soft knock on your door. It was barely more than a tap, but it sent a jolt through you. You sat up straighter, glaring at the door.

“Come in,” you said, voice flat.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, the light from the hallway casting his shadow long across the floor. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s gone,” he said quietly, his accent thickening his words. “Gone off to cool his head, like he always does.”

You just huffed, crossing your arms. “Good. Let him stew all he wants.”

Joel’s gaze flickered, his expression as unreadable as ever. “You know, you sure got a smart mouth on you,” he drawled slowly, each word rolling off his tongue like honeyed molasses. “Always did. But there’s a fine line between standin’ up for yourself and bein’ plain disrespectful.”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Disrespectful?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “He’s the one who—”

“—who’s worried ’bout his little girl.” Joel’s voice was steady but firm, cutting through your protest. He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “Look, darlin’, I know you’re frustrated. And I know he ain’t the easiest man to deal with. But the way you talked to him back there? That’s somethin’ you oughta be ashamed of.”

Heat flared up your neck, your pulse pounding. “I’m not ashamed. He never listens to me, Joel! No matter what I say, it’s like—”

“Don’t matter if he’s listenin’ or not,” Joel interrupted softly, shaking his head. “There’s a right way to talk to your folks, and that wasn’t it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to hold his gaze. “So, what, you’re on his side now?”

Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed like he was tired of this whole conversation. “Ain’t nobody pickin’ sides here. But I’ll tell you this—you sounded like a brat, plain and simple.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart lurching. “A brat?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, the word drawn out and almost lazy. He took another step closer, his gaze sharpening. “Actin’ like you know it all, like you’re too good to hear what he’s got to say. I get it—you’re grown, got your own ideas. But a little respect don’t hurt none.”

Something about the way he was looking at you—like he could see right through the front you were putting up—sent a strange thrill skittering down your spine. You shifted on the bed, your breath catching as he moved even closer, the distance between you shrinking to just a few feet.

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” you murmured, the words lacking their usual bite.

“Maybe not,” Joel agreed softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I reckon you need someone to remind you how to mind your manners.”

Your heart pounded hard against your ribs, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Joel’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Means you’re actin’ like a spoiled little girl who needs to be put in her place. Someone’s gotta teach you how to behave.” You swallowed, pulse racing as you held his gaze, the challenge hanging thick. “And you think you’re the one to do that?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, voice rough. “Guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” There was something dangerous in the way he said it—something that sent your heart and head into a frenzy. You knew you were treading into territory you shouldn’t, but the pull was quietly simmering beneath the surface.

It was hard to ignore how close he was now, standing just a few steps away, his broad frame taking up so much space in the room. You tried to look away to push down the tension that was building, but your body betrayed you. You wanted to deny it, the way your pulse quickened when he spoke to you like that. The way his presence—strong and steady—always made you feel something you weren’t sure how to handle.

“I don’t need you telling me how to behave, Joel,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual edge. His lips quirked up, his eyes dark as they held yours. “someone’s gotta.”

Joel was always calm, always collected, but there was something in his voice that you couldn’t shake off, and it only made the knot in your stomach tighten. He took another step toward you, and you could feel the air shift. “You’ve always had a way of pushin’ boundaries, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice tickling you, “but there’s a fine line between speakin’ your mind and actin’ out.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to push him away or let this go further. You’d always had a thing for him—Joel wasn’t just any man. He was the kind of guy who was steady when everything else wasn’t. Rugged, manly in a way that most men your age couldn’t pull off, and there was something about him that made you feel both safe and completely off-balance at the same time. It was a crush you’d tried to bury, but moments like this made it impossible to forget about it.

Your heart raced in your chest, a wild rhythm that matched the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. Joel had always been a figure of strength, a constant, rugged presence in your life. you’d always admired him from far, always found yourself drawn to him, even when you tried to deny it. That unspoken crush, the way your gaze lingered on him longer than it should, the way your stomach twisted when he called you "darlin’." It had been easy to brush off before to keep it hidden in the safe corners of your mind. But now, those feelings were too close, too raw, spilling over into the silence between.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and before you could pull yourself together, he stepped closer. Close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him, his presence filling the space around you until it felt like you could barely breathe. his smell was suffocating, making your lungs burn.

“I think I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, "You do too. And since your daddy didn't teach it to you, it seems like i need to take the brat out of you." His gaze didn’t waver, his words deliberate, each one sinking into your heart like they were meant to. Your breath got stuck as his words settled over you, thick and heavy like a weight you weren’t quite ready for. The air in the room wrapped around your throat like a chain.

His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His presence seemed to swallow everything else—the fight with your dad, the anger simmering in your chest, the stubbornness you wore like armor. Now, it all felt fragile, like glass under pressure. And Joel, standing so close, felt like the force about to shatter it.

A shiver rippled down your back, and you felt disarmed. Your body betrayed you—heat rising in your cheeks, your heartbeat so fast and loud you were sure he could hear it too. You wanted to protest, to say something sharp and cutting, to remind him he wasn’t your father and didn’t get to tell you what to do. But the words got stuck.

There was something in the way he looked at you now—unflinching, steady, like he had all the time in the world to watch you break. You’d never felt so vulnerable, so completely exposed. And yet, beneath that vulnerability, a dangerous thrill settled through you, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To feel this way, to let his words, his presence, affect you like this.

But you did let it affect you.

Joel scanned your face as if he was waiting for something—for you to break, to push back, or to surrender. You felt exposed under his gaze

And God, the way he stood there—so solid, so sure of himself. You had never felt smaller, more out of control, and at the same time, more drawn to that feeling of submission. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, knowing you shouldn’t jump but feeling the undeniable urge to fall anyway. fall into him.

"So here's how this is gonna go. While your dad is out to cool off 'm gonna teach you some manners, and when he comes back, you'll be good and ready to apologize." His calloused fingertips trace the side of your face. "How's that sound, angel baby?" You wanted to reply, to say something. this all felt like a dream, granted, a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

"Stayin' quiet now won't save your pretty ass, girl." Joel tuts, fingers slowly tangling themselves around your locks, pulling at them to make you look up. it made it hard to think straight. " I'm sorry.." And he chuckles at your words. "Now that's somethin'...so you can apologize." he said, almost mocking you. truthfully, him talking to you this way made all of your thoughts fuzzy, so you were basically on autopilot. the ends of your brows tie in a frown, unable to say anything more.

"Get up." Joel taps the side of your shoulder, his stern tone deafening the ring in your ears. "W-why?" You stammered. he rolls his eyes and tugs lightly on the blouse you had on. "Cause I'm 'bout to teach you a lesson. So you learn that being a brat has consequences. I ain't as soft as your dad."

Slowly, you shifted, pushing yourself off the bed, your legs shaky beneath you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood in front of him. As soon as you were upright, Joel’s hand released you, settling himself down on the edge of your bed, the place where you'd just been sitting, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The bed dipped under his weight, his broad shoulders taking up more space than they should, and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on him for a second longer than you intended.

"Bend over." You swallowed hard, eyes widening. "Excuse me?" You could believe what he just saidㅡ" Surely you were dreaming. It's like he crawled into the deepest space of your brain and digged in there to find the exact ways to make you fold. "C'mon, i ain't got all day. And your dad is probably coming back soon. So bend over." Joel said whilst patting his thick thighs, signaling you to settle on them. Every part of you was attuned to him—his voice, his movements, the way he looked at you - so you obey.

with shaky movements, you bend over his legs, your behind perked up and back arched. you feel his palm on the small of your back, spreading warmth through your body, before he fully moves it down to pull on the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off, sweetheart?" Your heart trembles, eyes closing as you mutter a soft 'yes'. Joel drags your pants down to your folded knees, along with your underwear, the sudden cold feeling enveloping your skin. "Look so pretty like this, baby." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your spine all the way to your lower back. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

with no warning, he pulls his hand back and settles in with a hard smack on your sizzling skin. the harsh hit priks at your skin as it reddens, and you can't help but let out a soft yelp. "Count for daddy." and it takes you off guard, but you comply.

"o-one." joel hum, rubbing that spot before delivering another slap. "Two -" three slaps, then four, then five more, and you turn into a teary, weeping mess. how beautifully you splayed yourself onto the man's lap, each jolt of your body inviting him further in. for him, it was over in seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity before you heard his voice again.

"Up. And bend over." in no time, you're bent over the edge of the bed, ass up and face flush with the mattress. the cold air hits your exposed cunt and your skin still hurts where he spanked you. He grips your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh, and you can feel his hardon resting between your legs. "This pussy is crying for me, huh?" he's cocky with the way he says it, two of his fingers gathering up the glistening liquid from your puffy lips, then bringing them to your mouth. "Be a doll." he's playing with you, but you? you do as you're told because he has you so drunk on him, in a way you've never felt before. you lick around his digits, tasting yourself and he delivers a proud slap to one of your asscheeks. "You pretty brat." back behind you, he crouches on one knee before drawing a long strip from your sensitive clit to your entrance with his tongue, the same two fingers you had licked, now slipping inside of you.

your back arches as a wave of pleasure breaks over your body like water on a shore. his licks are now concentrated on your bud, fingers quickening their pace as Joel hums at your sweet taste. You moan and writhe, that familiar warm feeling building up inside of you again. but as soon as you were there, he stopped, pulling back to see the shaky, wet mess you were. "P-lease, daddyㅡ"

he tuts, slapping your plush thighs. "You take what I give you. don't get greedy. You're lucky if I'm gonna let you come at all right now. this is supposed to be a lesson." the pain of that sick pleasure envelopes you and you sit with your cunt exposed as you hear Joel fumble the pockets of the pants he had already taken off. 'condoms' he mumbled, as if he knew what you were thinking.

"I'm clean.." You manage a whisper. "And on birth control." he sighs in relief. "Good." You can feel he is less tense now, his presence still behind you. with no warning, he flips you over, back on the bed and ass on the edge of it, that had your legs settle around his hips with ease. "Spread 'em." So you do. you spread your legs as much as you can, giving him a full view. Joel smiles, thumb back to rubbing circles onto your clit. "You're so beautiful." it was so sincere, so sweet you could almost taste it.

his gentle gaze soon got replaced by the hungry one he had all this night whilst staring you down. Finally, he aligns the tip of his shaft with your entrance and slowly pushes the tip in. Your breath got stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thornsㅡ Every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- theere we go.." Joel praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

you wrap your legs around him loosely but he takes you by your ankles and almost folds them over your stomach, providing him a better position to pound straight into you, hitting that sweet spot on and on. his hips dive down, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it. Now you gotta apologize for being a little brat." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Joel.

"C'mon baby, say it, say what i wanna hearㅡ fuck." he hammered deep into you, the trinkets from your bedside table clinking soft melodies, as Joel held you by your hips. "I'm s-orry, daddy! I'm so sorryㅡ" you sob, trying your best to be coherent. "That's it, good girl, good fucking girl."

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? fill you up with my babies? maybe then youll learn to behaveㅡ shit!" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, daddy, I'm sorryㅡ"

"Dirty fuckin' girl. Go ahead, 'f daddy." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much daddy!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. he pounds into you as you come down from your high, your body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slap your thigh, strong grips now onto your breasts as he comes ropes inside of you, then he pulls his length out of your pulsing walls, some come landing on your stomach.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulls out and watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm trickles of come dripping from your stomach to your chest due to your position. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths, as he scoots you better on the bed. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

"I'm sorry for being a brat.."

" 's fine, baby. if you're too good i won't have any reason to punish you anymore. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

you wouldn't, indeed.

[benispunk]

Ticklish

logan howlett x reader

Maybe you discovered Logan was ticklish. Maybe you used it to your advantage.

TW: it's pure fluff, it's a little bit funny and the end is a tiny bit suggestive. let's just say Christmas came early this year...this was written this morning when I woke up and it's fully inspired by my own post

Masterlist

Every morning before getting out of bed, you and Logan had a quiet ritual. These stolen moments of peace were rare in the chaos of the mansion, where every day brought new missions, training, or too many kids running around. It was the one time you could just be. No responsibilities, no noise— just the two of you.

This morning was no different. Your head rested on Logan's chest, his fingers combing gently through your hair, while your hand traced slow, lazy patterns on his chest. It was a small act of intimacy, but one you both cherished.

Lost in the rhythm, your hand absently wandered lower, brushing against his side. Suddenly, Logan jerked like he'd been electrocuted. His entire body tensed, and he shifted away so abruptly that you sat up, startled.

“Logan, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laced your voice as you reached for him.

He cleared his throat, his usual gruff tone tinged with embarrassment. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Just… don’t do that.”

You blinked, confusion evident on your face. “Don’t touch your sides?” You tilted your head, studying him as if trying to solve a puzzle. He refused to meet your gaze, instead settling back into bed and opening his arms to you, clearly ready to move on.

“Come here. We don’t have much time left before breakfast,” he said, his voice low and coaxing.

But you didn’t move. The way he avoided eye contact and the faint flush on his cheeks told you there was more to this. You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Logan…”

“Don’t,” he warned, catching the glint of mischief sparking in your eyes.

You smirked. “Are you… ticklish?”

The look of horror that crossed his face confirmed everything. He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, but the threatening tone only made you laugh.

“Oh my god, you are!” you exclaimed, grinning like a kid who just uncovered a juicy secret.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’ll regret it.” His expression was deadly serious, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Logan. I’m not going to tickle you. It was an accident— I didn’t know!”

He gave you a skeptical glance, clearly trying to decide whether you were trustworthy. After a tense moment, he let out a heavy sigh and opened his arms again. You nestled back against his chest, your fingers returning to their absent-minded pattern-drawing. His hand resumed its place in your hair, but his body remained slightly tense, like a predator waiting for an ambush.

The silence stretched comfortably for a few minutes before your curiosity got the better of you. “How did I never realize you were ticklish?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Because it’s a secret, and I’m careful. You’re lucky you caught me off guard.”

You laughed softly, your breath warm against his chest. “You know, I can keep a secret… but I can also use it against you if I want.”

His hand froze in your hair, and you felt his heartbeat quicken just slightly beneath your ear. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” You tilted your head up, giving him your best innocent smile.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but when your hand wandered dangerously close to his side again, he didn’t notice until it was too late. Your fingers pinched his ribs lightly, and the sound that escaped his mouth—a startled yelp—was priceless.

“Y/N!” he growled, but he was already moving. In the blink of an eye, you were flat on your back, your wrists pinned above your head as he loomed over you.

“What was that little scream you just did?” you teased, bursting into laughter as he glared down at you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he rumbled, his tone low and menacing, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told you he was more amused than angry.

“Well, in that case…” You grinned up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance. “Maybe I should do that more often.”

Logan shook his head, clearly trying to hold onto his serious facade, but it crumbled under the weight of your laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched before he finally broke, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, his voice gravelly and teasing. “You sure you want to keep playing? Because I’ve got other ways to make you behave.”

You arched a brow, your smirk never wavering. “Oh? Like what?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and before you could blink, he nipped at your bottom lip, making you gasp. His hands trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver through you.

“Keep testing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone dripping with suggestion. “You might not make it to breakfast at all.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back a grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

His smirk widened as he leaned closer, his voice a whisper against your ear. “Good. Because breakfast can wait.”

XXX

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Four

One | Two | Three

It has been a hot minute since I updated Good Vibrations hfjdksl thanks everyone for being patient with me, I just couldn't get this part written the way I wanted to for the loooongest time

There's a meme at the very end for anyone who sticks around!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

------

Of all the ways for Eddie's free period to go, getting cornered in the boy's bathroom by Robin Buckley was pretty damn low on the list. It's not even Robin's presence in the boy's bathroom that's throwing him off; it's the way her arms are crossed and she's glaring at Eddie like he's just bragged about kicking her puppy down the street.

Eddie pauses just inside the stall, holding the door open as the toilet struggles to flush behind him. A few seconds pass before Eddie forces himself to walk over to the sinks and wash his hands. "Buckley," he says, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We need to talk, Munson," Robin says, her eyes narrowing as Eddie shuts off the faucet, grabs a few paper towels, and dries his hands. "What's your game?"

"D&D, mostly," Eddie replies, dropping the paper towels in the trash and giving Robin his full attention. He notes, briefly, that she's locked the door to the bathroom, ensuring nobody is walking in on them.

"With Steve, asshole."

Oh.

Eddie pauses, shoves his hands into his pockets, and tilts his head at her. "Still not sure what you mean," he says. He's starting to get an inkling, though.

Robin frowns, seeming to argue with herself before shoving her hands into her hair to push it out of her face. She just leaves it even frizzier and messier as she takes a deep breath. "Do you think Steve is just, like, your entertainment of the week?" she asks, placing her hands on her hips as she levels that same glare from before at him.

"What? Shit, no, of course, not," Eddie says, sliding back a step at the implication. "What the fuck, Buckley?"

She grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and marches up to Eddie. "Listen, Munson. I know you. I know all about your little Munson Doctrine. I agreed with it once. And because of that, I know you might be thinking of getting to know all about how former King Steve is a...a...a deaf idiot so you can tell the whole fucking world about it," she hisses. "And I'm here to cut that shit off before it even starts. So, if that's your angle, Munson, I suggest you waltz your flat ass out of Steve's life before I bury you in the football field."

There's a lot to unpack there, and Eddie is going to start opening suitcases soon, but first he can't help saying, "My ass isn't flat, Buckley." Robin raises an eyebrow at him and pointedly looks in the mirror. Eddie doesn't follow her gaze, deciding he'd like to spare himself that tragedy.

When she looks back, Eddie clears his throat. "Besides, that's not...that isn't what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

Eddie looks away, squirming slightly under her gaze. If this were anyone else, if this were someone who hadn't endured the most awkward seven minutes of his life with him, Eddie wouldn't admit a thing. But because it's Robin, because he knows she'll understand even if she doesn't agree, he finds himself blurting, "I think he's cute!"

"Oh? Oh! Oooohhhh."

He can see Robin going on a whole journey over the course of one word repeated three times, and Eddie almost immediately regrets admitting anything. "You can't tell him," Eddie says, moving forward without thinking and grabbing Robin's shoulders. "I'm serious, Buckley, you can't tell Steve."

She blinks, studying his expression for a moment before humming softly. "What do you want me to do? Lie? I tell Steve everything. He'll know if I'm not telling him something," she says.

"Just say it's not your secret to tell! Because it isn't! It very much is not your secret to be sharing around."

Robin huffs and shrugs Eddie's hands off her shoulders. She leans against the sink, head tilted. "So," she says, her tone implying they're changing the subject now, "when did this little crush of yours start?"

"What do you care?"

"If I'm going to help you, Munson, I need to know."

"You're gonna help me?"

Robin grins at him. "This is my entertainment of the week."

Eddie huffs and looks away, pacing a few times from one end of the bathroom to the other before finally stopping. "Okay," he says, more psyching himself up than anything else. "Steve has always been, you know, hot. It made me so fucking angry when I realized in sophomore year since he was a jock and all. But now...now he's...more. And I'm burning up, man, I've gotta know everything. What's his music collection look like? Do the kids know he's deaf? How does he interact with people when he can't hear them? Is he comfortable closing his eyes when he kisses? Does he feel everything more because he can't hear? Wou--"

"Okay, I'm stopping you there," Robin says, her face twisted in disgust as she levels a judgmental look at Eddie. "I don't want to hear your questions about Steve and kissing or whatever else your dirty little brain is thinking of."

"You asked."

"And now I'm telling you to stop," Robin replies. She runs her fingers through her hair again, frowning slightly. "Okay, I think the most important thing here is etiquette."

"Etiquette? What, am I too rough for Steve's delicate sensibilities?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd like to avoid offending him the way you did the last time you spoke."

Okay. Fair. Eddie grimaces at the reminder, the image of Steve's frown and the sound of his closed-off voice forcing themselves to the front of his mind. His shoulders slump and he nods. "Yeah, I would," he says.

Robin nods once, pushes herself off the sink, and places her hands on her hips. "Let's start with some basics," she says, taking a deep breath, and Eddie finds himself wondering if he's about to get overwhelmed by these basics. "Don't talk when Steve isn't looking at you. Don't have anything in or covering your mouth when you speak. Talk a little slower and make sure you enunciate, but if you talk slow like Steve is stupid, I will punch you. If Steve asks you to repeat something, repeat it word-for-word, no matter how many times he asks. If someone addresses Steve and he doesn't notice, give him a subtle nudge. Never sneak up on Steve when he's alone. Even if it means more walking or whatever, move to a spot where he'll notice you approaching. Be expressive when you speak. Steve can't hear things like tone, so he doesn't always know when something is a joke or sarcastic. And never, ever, call Steve or anything about him bullshit."

"That last one...," Eddie says, trailing off as he frowns slightly.

"Is the most important. I'm serious, Munson."

"Okay," Eddie says, nodding once and figuring he'll leave it at that.

"Oh, and ask Steve to teach you sign language. It'll give you an excuse to see each other more often."

-----

Robin has been acting weird since she started her shift, and Steve barely manages to wait until he's 95% sure the store is empty to turn around and ask, "What's wrong?"

Her hands falter, nearly dropping the tape she's busy rewinding. She catches herself, though, and looks at Steve. "What do you mean?"

"You're not telling me something. You tell me everything. What's wrong?"

She hesitates, looking away and biting her bottom lip before sighing and looking back. "I learned a secret today, so it's not mine to tell."

"Oh," Steve says, his shoulders relaxing some. "I thought you were hiding something actually important from me."

He doesn't hear her scoff, but he sees the way her head jerks and her eyes roll when she does. "Why would I bother hiding anything from you, dingus?"

Before Steve can answer, Robin stiffens slightly as she looks over Steve's shoulder. He braces himself for the customer interaction he's about to endure, slaps on a fake smile, and turns around. "Welcome to Family Video. How ca--Eddie?" His smile softens into something genuine at seeing Eddie on the other side of the counter. "Hey, man, what's up?"

Eddie flashes a smile in return, glancing at Robin over Steve's shoulder before focusing back on him. "Hey. Just, uh, kinda had a favor to ask you," he says.

Several possibilities run through Steve's mind, all of them related to the kids, since he can't think of any other reason for Eddie to need a favor from him. "Oh," Steve says, frowning slightly in confusion. "What's the favor."

Instead of answering right away, Eddie shifts awkwardly. He looks away, tugging on a few strands of his hair like he's nervous. He starts to use them to cover his mouth, making Steve dread his inevitable request for Eddie to repeat himself, when he stops. Eddie literally freezes, his fingers twitching before he drops the strands of hair and places his hands on the counter like he needs to keep them in sight.

He takes a deep breath, and Steve is starting to get really concerned now. "Hey, Eddie, whatever it is, just ask. I won't get, like, angry or anything," he says, hoping that makes things easier.

"No, I know you won't," Eddie says, huffing softly before nodding once, more to himself than anything else. "I was, uh, thinking. I read once that sign language is, like, a thing. So, if you teach me some sign language, I'll write you a song that's all noise and vibrations."

Steve doesn't get it all at first, concentrating on Eddie's mouth and getting distracted halfway through by the thought of dragging his thumb across Eddie's bottom lip. "Could you repeat that?" he asks, steeling himself to actually pay attention this time.

Eddie doesn't complain. He just nods and repeats himself. Steve got more of it, enough to know what Eddie is asking for, but he finds himself pausing when he meets Eddie's eyes again. There's no annoyance or frustration at being asked to repeat himself. All Steve can see is patience and nervousness. Without thinking, he asks again, "Sorry, one more time please?"

And Eddie says everything again. He repeats himself word-for-word, still lacking any negative reaction to saying the same thing three times. Steve feels something warm settle behind his ribs, and he nervously licks his lips, catching the way Eddie glances down to follow the motion. He shoves his hands into his pockets, balling them into fists so he doesn't do something stupid like grab Eddie's hand. "One more time," Steve says, the words feeling breathy and soft as they brush past his lips, and he hopes he wasn't too quiet.

Eddie blinks, tilting his head slightly and glancing over Steve's shoulder again. Steve hasn't forgotten about Robin being behind him, but he figures he can just play it off as fucking with Eddie at this point. Eddie doesn't complain or ask if Steve is serious, though. He just...repeats himself, and Steve suddenly knows that Eddie would keep repeating himself until Steve got tired of asking.

"Thanks," Steve says, deciding to spare them both from continuing the loop. "I got it that time. What do you want to learn sign for?"

"A D&D campaign. Thinking of using it in the plot."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I could teach you. Are you doing anything on Sunday?"

"Nope. Totally free. Nothing planned at all."

Steve can't help a slight grin, and he tells himself it's just because he's excited by the prospect of Eddie writing a whole song catered to how he experiences music. "Cool. Come by my place around noon."

Eddie nods once, exhaling like he's forgotten to breathe the entire time they were talking. His hands tap against the counter, drawing Steve's attention downward, and he suddenly wonders what Eddie's rings feel like. Steve forces himself to look back up before that thought can go too far.

"Will do," Eddie says once Steve is looking at him again. He flashes a smile and adds, "See you then, sweetheart."

With that, he turns on his heel and leaves, waving over his shoulder like Steve isn't trying to figure out if he read his words correctly. He watches Eddie leave, waiting for the door to close behind him before whirling around to find Robin still rewinding tapes like nothing happened. "Did he call me sweetheart?" Steve asks, needing to know if he's misunderstanding.

Robin looks up, eyebrows raised. "Don't know, dingus. I wasn't listening."

Steve barks out a laugh. "You're always listening," he points out.

She grins at him, her expression screaming trouble and that she knows something he doesn't. "Well, not that time," she replies, her grin widening as she adds, "But if I was, I'd say he did, yeah."

"He did," Steve murmurs, looking away from Robin and letting her confirmation sink in.

----------

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

Please follow the tag "good vibrations Steddie" or put on notifications for my blog to see when new parts are posted :D)

@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane

@whenindoubtb72, @different-tale-student, @sharingisntkaren, @current-steddie-brainrot, @willim-billiam-byerson, @nuggies4life

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The meme for those who stuck around:

[robo-writing]

Hi! I love your writing and have had a shit day. Basically car troubles and a flat tire. All I could think about was Logan ‘yelling’ at me for not asking for his help and being upset I tried to do everything myself. Could you write something like this with an established relationship? Just super soft and fluffy with Logan just being scared you could’ve gotten hurt. Thanks! ♥️

Oh no, I’m so sorry you had a bad day today! Hopefully tomorrow’s better!

Today’s just proof that Murphy’s law is still alive and true. You’ve tried every single troubleshooting method you can think of and still your car refuses to just fucking work.

It gets to a point, it really fucking does.

Your head hits the steering wheel, too tired to care about the loud blaring that follows. “For the love of god, please move,” you beg, and you hear the best noise you’ve ever heard in your life—the sound of your engine whirring to life.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, hands immediately moving to the steering wheel. You start thanking every deity you know and then some, slowly

Unfortunately for you, luck is not on your side. You get maybe half a mile before you feel the car jump, followed by the worst sound of your life—the air escaping from your tire.

You feel the tears welling in your eyes, defeat sinking down into your very core. You don’t even have the strength to curse, staring ahead into the empty road as your view gets lower and lower. The thought of swapping your tire crosses your mind, but you’re so mentally drained that even getting out of your car seems impossible.

So, you sit in the drivers seat and cry while the sun goes down. By the time you compose yourself the sky bleeds orange, your phone ringing with an all too familiar contact number.

Begrudgingly you pick up, the sound of your husband’s voice clear through the receiver. “Hey honey, haven’t heard from you all day.”

Silence.

“Sweetheart, you there?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer. “I’m here.”

You can almost hear his expression through the phone—you imagine he’s suddenly on alert from the sound of his footsteps, worry in his voice. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

The words bring a flood of emotion through you—rage, sadness, mostly defeat. You feel yourself shaking again as a fresh wave of tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“My engine broke Lo,” you sniffle. “It broke, and I tried to fix it but it wouldn’t—it wouldn’t turn on and I tried—“

You’re hyperventilating now, and somewhere far away you can hear Logan telling you to calm down, but it only makes you panic even further. “It wouldn’t work, and I did everything right and then it did! And I was so happy Lo, thought I did everything right and right when I started moving I got a flat fucking tire and everything’s going wrong and—“

“Honey, breathe, please,” he pleads through the phone, but you’re still crying. “Stay where you are, I’ve got you on gps, I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, wiping at your wet face with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault—“

“No, no, we are not doing that,” he interrupts. “Stay where you are, I’m coming to you, don’t panic, okay?”

You sniffle, nodding your head. “Y-Yeah, okay.”

“Say it back to baby, say you won’t panic.”

You nod again. “I won’t—I won’t panic.”

“Good,” he replies, the telltale jingle of car keys loud through the phone. “Want me to stay with you on the phone while I drive?”

“Please,” you say, still trying to steady yourself. From the corner of your eye you see yourself, and you look like a wreck. Red in the face, fingers and clothes stained from working on the engine, ugly black smudges that only serve to remind you of your failure.

“Hey, focus on my voice, alright?” He says. “I’m almost there, just keep calm.”

What was only a few minutes felt like hours, the sight of his car coming over the horizon enough to bring you to tears for the third time today.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” he coos, pulling you out from the car with a hand against your back. “You’re good, everything’s fine.”

You’re trembling in his arms, guilt flowing through him at the sight of you in pain. You’re holding onto him so tightly, as if he’d disappear if you didn’t. Your first words to him are a mess, and all he can do is rub your head as you get it all out. “I’m sorry for making you come here.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t be sorry, I’m happy to be here. Next time you’re in trouble, just call me, okay honey?”

[mangosrar]

call it what you want.

matt sturniolo x fem reader. enemies to lovers!!

WHEW YALL HEY. it’s been a while but i’m super excited to be back. love u ❤️‍🩹

warnings: suggestive. arguing

this will be multiple parts!!!!

pt2

"im not a child anymore! i cant move 2 inches without them being on my ass about something" you exclaimed as you paced up and down the living room.

nick sat on the couch, gawking at you as you ranted. you sighed before stopping and pointing a finger at nick.

"and you know what, they dont do this to my brother, nooo he can fuck all the girls he wants but i mention one guy im not even dating and suddenly im going off the rails" nick just stared at you with a questionable expression on his face.

you knew he wouldnt understand, his parents were so lenient, so the fact you were going on a 20 minute tangent about how strict yours were was completely futile and you may as well be speaking in a different language.

you dropped your hands and whined before stomping over to the couch and plopping down next to nick.

"i mean, how could i win nick? they want me to be happy but i wanna be happy with a hot boyfriend" you said as you turned your head to look at him, he just looked down at you with a sympathetic but mischievous look.

"im worried my advice is going to get you in trouble" he cringed. you pulled your head back and furrowed your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"i mean... you need to rebel y/n, find someone whos completely foreign to them" you stared at him, thinking for a second.

it wasnt like you wanted to, but the fact that their heads would fall off if you found someone who was the complete opposite of your parents and their expectations, brought you a little bit of complete fucking joy.

it was like a lightbulb moment, your eyes widened, and a cheesy grin pulled at your lips as you practically leaped off of the couch and continued your pacing.

"i need someone who is all mean and mysterious, or maybe a guy who drives a motorbike or plays the drums" you rambled looking at nick for approval but being met with a flat expression on his face.

"seriously y/n?" he questioned.

"whatever im just brainstorming" you waved him off.

"whoever he is needs to be nonchalant, he needs to smoke and drink, maybe dabble in partying every now and again, he needs to have tattoos and long hair. i mean be honest, if you came home with a guy like that, i think your mom would drop dead" he explained, letting out a small laugh before leaning forward slightly.

and as if god himself was listening, matthew sturniolo appeared in the doorway, in all of his long haired and tattood glory, sipping on a can of root beer, watching you intently.

both you and nick snapped your head towards him as he stood there with a stoic expression.

"what do you want weirdo?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

he squinted at you before sticking his hand out besides him in question.

"your in my house y/n. the real question is what do you want" he spat.

truth was you and matt had never gotten along. despite your decade long friendship with his brothers, there was always something about him that you couldnt stand and apparently matt felt the same way towards you, so the two of you started an unspoken hatred for each other one day and it has stood strong ever since.

neither of you were sure why it started, but matt always hated the way you thought you were better than everyone else, how you could never admit when you were in the wrong, or the way your scent stuck to everything so he could always smell you around the house, but mostly he hated the way his cock would jump when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, even when you were spitting insults at him.

"i want you to stop listening to our conversation and get the fuck out of my face" you bit back, turning to face him and crossing your arms, keeping your hard stare fixed on him.

"please, you love it when i get in your face y/n. and you know what, have a little more compassion, your parents are wonderful people." he scoffed as he took a step towards you, keeping his eyes trained on yours. he was clearly trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"they dont even like you matt, i wouldnt be so up their ass" you smiled sarcastically. he just laughed before taking another step towards you.

"and i cant stand their bitch of a daughter so were even" he spoke lowly, shooting daggers at you. there was a few seconds of silence where you and matt were just glaring at each other. wordlessly throwing insults and screaming at one another, before nick cleared his throat, causing the bubble around you both to pop.

you and matt turned to look at nick who was standing up from his seat on the couch, with an expression that you couldnt place. you could feel the heat radiating off of matt, in the midst of the bickering you hadnt realized how close he had gotten, you hadnt realized how good he smelt, or how him looking down at you like a disobedient child made you want to drop to your knees there and then.

nick opened his mouth to speak, his eyes jumping from you to his brother, who was stood not even a foot away.

"back to the topic at hand...why dont you date chris?" nick said like it was the most obvious option.

"you cant be serious..." matt trailed off, looking at his brother.

"no way nick, hes like my brother, plus my parents like him" you explained, ignoring matts comment, moving away from him and taking a seat back on the couch, folding your legs up underneath you.

"fake it, be in a fake relationship with him" you werent sure what planet nick was living on, but he was not helping in any way shape or form.

you just rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the realization this was never going to work. there was a pregnant pause, all 3 of you, thinking completely different things, before matt broke the silence.

"ok so let me get this straight, you wanna piss off your parents, and show them your all grown up, by finding a guy in a biker gang..... as a scare tactic?" he asked, sending questioning looks between you and nick.

"not a biker gang matt" nick replied flatly, shaking his head at him.

"so just someone with tattoos, and long hair?" he spoke, placing his drink down on the coffee table and crossing his arms over his chest.

you shrugged and nodded your head at him. why was he so interested.

"so you just wanna use someone, to make your parents mad?" he furrowed his brows, desperately trying to get this right, but you were sure he was trying to make you feel bad so you didnt go through with it, just so you would stay miserable. or so you thought.

"call it what you want matt, i dont care what you think, this is none of your business" you spat.

you watched matts eyes wander from yours to his brothers who had been suspiciously silent. they were exchanging glances, like they were speaking some sort of wordless language, and it was concerning. usually, matt wouldve threw an insult back at you, but his expression didnt even waiver.

pulling your eyes away from matt, you turned to nick with a confused expression, and studdied his face, watching as his eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning to face you with a look in his eye that you couldnt decipher.

"before you say anything, just hear me out"

_______________________________________________

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @st4rswrld @soursturniolo @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @gloomymatt @gwenlore @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast

[hoshifighting]

hi hi could you do an fwb2lovers wonwoo with some angst but happy ending? I really love your works!!! thank you 😊

Friends with Benefit to Lovers - Wonwoo

a/n: thank you for all the luv, xoxo 💋❤️

warnings: suggestive ending, angst, fluff, being left out, reconciliation.

you and Wonwoo have been tight since freshman year, forged through late-night cram sessions, shared slices of greasy pizza, and endless games of FIFA. it's that kind of friendship where you know each other's quirks better than your own.

one friday evening, you find yourselves at a frat party, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer and the bass from the speakers pounding against your chest, you're just happy to be along for the ride, nursing a red cup of something that tastes suspiciously like punch.

you watch from a distance as a girl from Wonwoo's course sidles up to him, their conversation growing more animated by the minute. part of you wants to intervene, to remind Wonwoo of your existence, but another part—the stubborn part—refuses to budge. so you sit there, nursing your drink and pretending not to care. 

you had drunk so much that the party went by too quickly, the cheap alcohol from the punch felt like a punch to your liver. some of your friends still tried to talk to you, but your social battery had already run out.

so, you stay put on the worn-out couch, drowning your thoughts in another cup of punch that's probably more sugar than anything else. the party is winding down, people stumbling out the door in twos and threes, but you're stuck here, waiting for Wonwoo's ride back to the dorms.

time stretches on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you wait for Wonwoo to notice you. finally, he appears in front of you, his expression unreadable. "let's go?" he says, his tone flat.

you stand up without a word, ignoring his outstretched hand as you make your way to the door. the car ride is suffocating in its silence, each passing mile stretching the tension between you until it feels like it might snap.

back in the dorm, you head straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. as you're drying your hair with a towel, Wonwoo's voice cuts through the silence like a knife. "why are you like this?" he demands, his frustration palpable.

you whirl around, towel still clutched in your hand. "remembering my existence now?" you snap. Wonwoo's taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks.

you square your shoulders, refusing to back down.

"it means you've been ignoring me all night, and now you expect me to act like everything's okay? i'm not a mind reader, Wonwoo. i can't just pretend like nothing's wrong."

"are you telling me this because of soojin?" he asks, his voice tinged with frustration.

you roll your eyes, unable to mask your irritation. "like it's not obvious," you mutter under your breath.

Wonwoo's expression softens, and he takes a step closer, reaching out as if to touch your arm. "look, she's just a girl from my class. we were talking about a new project, that's all. there's no need to feel jealous."

you scoff, cutting him off before he can finish.

"jealous? you think i was jealous?" you shoot back, incredulous. "no, i wasn't. i just didn't want to go to a party and be alone the whole fucking time!"

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"yes, i was with my friends," you concede, your tone softer now. "but i came with you, Wonwoo. and i... i wanted to spend time with you."

"i know, i know," he starts, his tone apologetic yet tinged with frustration. "but i thought you'd be fine with your friends for a bit. i didn't mean to make you feel left out."

you let out a heavy sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"it's not just about being fine with my friends," you say, your voice quieter now, tinged with hurt. "i came here with you, Wonwoo. i wanted to spend time with you. but instead, i felt like i was just tagging along while you hung out with someone else."

Wonwoo's shoulders slump, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck.

"i didn't realize you felt that way," he admits, his voice quiet.

"well, now you do," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "and it sucks feeling like i'm just some afterthought."

you collapse onto the couch, the weight of the argument draining every ounce of energy from your body. you're exhausted, emotionally spent, and all you want to do is close your eyes and forget about the whole thing.

but before you can even think about resting, Wonwoo kneels down in front of you, his expression soft with concern. you meet his gaze, the weariness in your eyes mirrored in his own.

"hey," he says gently, reaching out to take your hand in his. "are you okay?"

you nod, a small sigh escaping your lips. "yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo squeezes your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "i'm really sorry about earlier," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "i didn't mean to upset you."

you manage a weak smile, the tension in your chest easing slightly at his words. "it's okay," you assure him, the weight of the argument already starting to feel lighter.

Wonwoo leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "i just want you to know that you mean a lot to me," he murmurs, his words a whispered promise. "I didn't realize how much my actions were affecting you. you're not just some afterthought, I promise."

you feel a weight lift from your chest as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. 

his tongue finds its way into your mouth, exploring every crevice with a familiarity that makes you mewl. you melt into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if you never want to let him go.

that was another thing about Wonwoo – he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

as the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue like a sweet addiction.

he pull back slightly so both of you can breathe.

"you're not just my friend," wonwoo confesses, "you're... you're so much more than that."

your heart feels like it's about to burst from your chest as you search his eyes.

"I've been scared to say it, scared to admit it even to myself," Wonwoo admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but I can't deny it any longer. I love you."

"I love you too," you whisper, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. "I've loved you for so long."

he kisses your forehead, your lips, giving the smile that you've always loved.

you pull back, caressing his chin and jaw with your hands.

"you know," you murmur, "just because you're sorry doesn't mean i'm going to go easy on you."

Wonwoo chuckles "i wouldn't expect anything less," he replies.

you smirk, feeling a surge of confidence coursing through you. "good," you say, your tone teasing. "because i have a few ideas about how you can make it up to me."

[crypticminx]

Enemies to lovers au ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Felix Catton was a popular student body that seemed so utterly artificial to you.

From his lean, supermodel like body to his outrageous facial piercing and even his ridiculously expensive clothes—everything seemed to irk you to no end.

Even the man’s whole life and every teeny bit of information you heard from gossip sounded like something that sprung from an unrealistic movie.

What made it even worse was his attitude, one that wasn’t too far off from the cocky cliche types you had no patience for in high school.

While you would sit and mind your own business, your mind attentively focused on the information in your textbook, you’d see him happily stroll on by—his hand always intertwined with a girls, of course. It almost infuriated you how those girls would chase him around like love sick puppies, a poor character trait on their part.

There were so many other men on campus, but only one Felix and that was the problem.

Felix this and Felix that, couldn’t you escape him for just one second?

It appeared not, as when you found yourself smoking a cigarette to escape the party filled atmosphere for a quick minute on the balcony of a flat, which belonged to someone’s name you didn’t even know, in walked the man himself.

“Got a light?” he asked you, interrupting the peace that was supposed to be your only moment of freedom from the obnoxious drunks inside.

Taking a minute to observe his flushed face, a result of one too many beers, you hesitantly handed your lighter to him after fetching it from your purse.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking a few clumsy seconds to light the cigarette poking through his lips.

In perfect unison, you both painfully stood in silence, keeping your distance from each other as nicotine would slowly trail down both yours and his throat and release with each exhale. The two of you creating quite the cloud of foggy smoke.

“I’ve seen you around, y’kno,” he took a small drag, gently tapping off the ash growing on his cigarette.

If this was his way of starting a conversation as an attempt to bring you home with him, he was doing a miserable job.

“I’ve seen you too,” you replied, sounding disinterested as you continued to face the distance ahead as opposed to Felix.

“Always got your head in a book, drinking beer by yourself,” he slowly dragged his feet as he circled around you. “…giving me dirty looks whenever you have the chance.” You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had to be sporting one hell of an arrogant grin.

No, he wasn’t trying to take you home, he was flat out insulting you.

Rolling your eyes with a disdainful expression, you tossed the remaining cigarette to the stone cold ground, crushing its entirety in one stomp.

Okay, if he wanted to play this game, so be it.

“What’s your point,” you questioned him with hostility, feeling your blood boil when his face was sporting the exact look you pictured it to.

“My point is,” he swallowed, his structured jaw clenching, “even with all the drinking I’ve done, I can sense you don’t like me.”

You found it comical, not even ten minutes with him and he was getting to all the nitty gritty. You absolutely pitted any girl who spent more than twenty minutes with him. you could probably name a few.

“And do I need to like you, Felix?” You inched yourself closer to him, not caring if you crossed some sort of stupid boundary that was created between the two of you.

“No no, of course not darling,” he shook his head while you cringed at the subtle name calling. “But nobody likes a bitch.”

Oh, he was a fucking piece of—

“However, you’re the fine exception.”

Your eyes squinted with confusion, finding yourself surprised that you weren’t about the cuss the tall man out. Instead, pure tranquility roamed through your composure as your mouth didn’t budge.

“What if I kissed you?” He interrogated you, his voice was loud and serious, not one ounce of alcohol collided with his system to say the things that flew out of him. “Would you still dislike me then?”

“Excuse me?” You aggressively spat out, starting to feel more frustrated than full of your previous rage.

“I said, what if I—“

“I heard you!” you profoundly interrupted him, coming to your senses that all your douchey assumptions about him were right.

“Wait,” he called out, almost sounding desperate like he had some good point to be made.

You refused to let this silly conversation continue for any second longer. Dashing straight for the the door, but one swift tap of your shoulder and suddenly you found your back against the brick wall and Felix’s lean arms alarmingly barricading you from exiting.

“I also know that you’ve got the highest grade in our lit class.”

Great, so he was gonna make some joke out of that too.

“And when I read your work that was on display, I found myself in love with how beautiful your writing was.”

It was a simple assignment. A poem based on a classic Shakespeare play, you just happened to have chose a midnight summers dream. Felix’s favourite.

“You….,” confused eyes scanned him up and down as you tried to picture him reading any sort of literature, “like poetry?”

“I like pretty girls who can write,” he flashed a confident smirk before his body mindlessly pushed him to do something he hopefully wouldn’t regret.

He leaned his tall frame down to the perfect level of letting his lips slowly embrace yours. The second you felt the softness from them, you wanted to pull away with all your might, but a weak part of you felt curiosity win you over.

As his tongue danced away with yours in circles upon circles, the taste didn’t stench of alcohol. Instead there was some sort of sweetness to it, something that made it all seem worthwhile.

Closing your eyes in an amused way of defeat, you savoured the moment from the long kiss. Soaking up his touch that maybe felt too alluring once his hands smoothly made way to your hips. You could feel the ambience of enjoyment twinkling it’s way in the air and you wondered how the hell you got here.

Felix was as good of a kisser as he was an asshole.

Breaking free from a passionate kiss turned make-out, you witnessed a side of Felix that almost made every negative aspect of him vanish from the depths of your mind. You trailed back to the very feeling that was his lips on yours and you wanted to possibly continue as you noticed Felix looked just as stunned as you.

Until—

“Felix, mate,” a man with piercing blue eyes and dark locks popped his head out the door, looking at the two of you dusting yourselves off while trying hide your sheer content that sprouted in the form of rosy cheeks. Luckily, his pal didn’t seem to pay any sort of mind. After all, this was typical Felix behaviour.

“Been looking for ya, get your ass inside and have a shot with me!”

“Duty calls,” Felix whispered in your ear, holding your soft hand for a quick second before letting go, even though it was clear he didn’t want to.

As he was about to part ways from you, he stopped before he turned to you for one last time before the two of you would go your separate ways into the long night ahead.

“See you around, if you’re not too busy with all your books.” He blew you a cheesy kiss.

You didn’t say anything to his antics, instead you tossed him your final smile, while on the inside, you were squealing with foreign joy.

Fetching another cigarette to help you process what just happened, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

[ordowrites]

when you are sad

cw: none, simple fluff and comfort, self indulgent, no pronouns used / gn!reader. slight vent, i'm sorry. established relationships.

characters: diluc, kaeya, wanderer

bad days, weeks, months are simply just bound to happen. that's sometimes how it is, and kaeya is no stranger to such things. he'd mourned the loss of family many times, and has his own, long bouts of depression.

misery loves company and he finds you out at starsnatch cliff, staring up at the endless sky and for a moment, he considers leaving you to yourself, knowing that sometimes being alone is better but he can't help but linger for a brief moment.

finally, kaeya simply elects to sit next to you and gently drapes his arm around you and pulls you close.

"it's gonna be okay." he murmurs as you slump against him. "i promise." it feels like lip service but it's all he can offer when in reality, he would take on all your troubles if it means never seeing that somber, upset look on your face ever again. he holds you closer and you rest your head on his chest. "i love you."

he never says those words out loud to anyone - let alone you, the one who caught his eye so long ago.

"i love you." he repeats, firmly. "i know it can't fix whatever is going on, but just...just remember that."

you are all the things that are right in this world - you are ambitious, outspoken, there is not a moment where you have surrendered simply because the going got tough. yet, seeing you in tears and frustrated has diluc at a loss.

your spirit is like wildfire, it burns everything in its path and here it is, damped and gone, in the wake, ashes.

"what's the matter, my beloved?" diluc is tender when he gently cups your face and wipes away your tears. it doesn't matter if you tell him or not, you'll talk about it when you're ready. "hey, hey, shhh..." he grunts in surprise when you grip him into a tight hug. "it's okay, it's okay, i'm here."

unlike kaeya, diluc isn't very good with words and he doesn't always know how to make things better (and sometimes tends to worsen things) so when you hug him, all he can do is hold you just as tightly.

he has adelinde make you your favorite food - after all, food is a love language - and prepare you a bath that you can soak in. it doesn't fix the problem, but he hopes it can at least provide some sense of comfort.

there's something about your expression that's frustrating him - the wanderer is not unfamiliar with human emotion, in fact, he understands them quite well after four hundred some years but he is perplexed by you. normally, you return his snark ten fold, you're loud, you're obnoxious, and pushy, and when he calls you an ass, you have ten times worse words for him.

"what do you want?" you ask him, tone flat. you're exhausted, he notes as he takes the seat across from you. "go away, i don't have time."

"well, i do." he retorts.

you roll your eyes. "news flash, the world does not revolve around you."

"it should," the wanderer responds, crossing his arms over his chest. "tell me what's wrong."

"i don't want to." you respond.

he snorts. "fine, have it your way." he says, grumpily. "but don't think, for a minute, i'm leaving your depressed ass alone."

"why?" you have the audacity to ask.

the wanderer, for once, does not have a proper answer for you. or a retort. he simply just stares, hopes you drop it and let it go. after awhile, he gets up and goes inside the cafe and orders you some cake and some weird sounding cold coffee. humans and their need to change things.

"a wise deity once told me that sweets can sooth the soul." he says, upon your quizzical look. "i assume she must be right."

for the first time in the two hours, you crack a small smile. and the wanderer feels victorious.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine telling zoro you're pregnant

The test results indicate that you were in fact very much pregnant. Having confided in Robin and Nami about missing your period– you had thought maybe it was a fluke the first time, but after a second month without you asked them to help you find a pregnancy test. So, when the crew docked a few weeks later – the three of you went to the local doctor to take a test. Now you sat alone on the deck of the Sunny, results written on a piece of paper. Approximately thirteen weeks. The girls were just as shocked as you and when Nami asked who the father was, you flat out refused to say.

“Not before I tell him.”

They seemed understanding but there were only so many options for them to pick from. It had to be one of the men on the crew, Nami had pointed out. Robin was more respectful and said it was up to you to decide when you told the others – until then, they would keep mum.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”

Looking up from the paper in your hand, you saw the father of your child and felt a wave of nerves. He seemed relaxed in his white shirt and black pants, swords sheathed at his side. He looked perplexed when you shoved the results into his chest and started toward the observation room. The rest of the crew had ventured out onto the island, but you came back with the results, telling Robin and Nami you wanted to rest for a bit. Zoro had gone out too, but he must have gotten back, and it was a good thing too. Going up the stairs that led to the upper deck, you felt his sharp gaze on you then heard a curse in the wind. He called out to you but you kept walking to the observation room. Once inside, you sat down on the edge of Nami’s desk and waited for Zoro. He walked in, moments later, fist closed around the paper.

“You’re pregnant.”

“So, you can read.”

“Not funny,” he murmured, taking a seat next to you. Neither of you said a word for what felt like minutes but was most likely seconds until he sighed deeply. “Well, are we going to tell the others?”

“I don’t know.” Your forehead met his shoulder and he chuckled, giving your thigh a soft pat.

“I never thought of having kids or being a – a father. I don’t know how the hell we’re going to do it.”

“We don’t have to, you know,” you whispered, eyes focused forward. Zoro stiffened beside you. “I’m sure there’s a doctor we can go to…we are pirates after all.”

It wasn’t like the thought didn’t cross his mind in the time it took to read the piece of paper and the walk to the upper deck, but it was a brief though. He didn’t know what kind of father he could be, because he truly never thought of the possibility.  Would a child ruin his goals? Would it shift everything in your lives? What about your dream to help liberate people around the world? What would having a child do to those dreams?

“Zoro, what do you think? This can easily go away, and we can go back to our lives.” You stole a look from him, and he turned to you, eyes filled with thought. “It can go back to us sneaking around, just us two. Wouldn’t you like that?”

He stared at your face, recognized the sincere gaze in your eyes – the kind of expression that gave many people hope. That’s what you did, gave people the strength to move forward and do things they never thought possible. Zoro was staring into your eyes and wondered if his child would have their shape. He moved his arm around your shoulder, and you relaxed against his side, the two of you close together as the ship docked quietly.

“No matter if it’s a boy or girl, my kid’s going to learn to three sword style.” You moved away from Zoro to get a better look at him. He seemed resolved and smiled at you. “I’m not raising no wimp. We’ll probably have to add a room to the ship. Sure, Franky’s up for the challenge.”

Like that, Zoro was all in.

“Zoro…”

“…also, Chopper better know how to deliver a baby. Nami and Robin can help.”

“Zoro…”

He stood up and walked over to the wall of books. “Do you think there’s a baby book here?”

Zoro finally looked at you and stilled at the tears in your eyes, realizing then that he hadn’t heard a word from you – what you wanted. He felt ashamed for running his mouth so much when you hadn’t even confirmed that you wanted the kid too. He strode over to you, taking your hand in his. If you were to say you didn’t want to go through with the pregnancy, then that was the end of the discussion. He wasn’t going to force anything on you – not even his own kid.

“Hey, what are you thinking?”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you laughed. “I’m thinking you’re going to be a really good dad, Zoro.”

The man’s eyes softened, and he asked if that meant you wanted to have the baby. You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be so bad, huh?”

He kneeled in front of you, holding your gaze with a stern expression. “Listen, no matter what, I’ll make sure nothing ever bad happens to you two. Got it? The two of you belong to me now and I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Belong?”

An eyebrow rise had the man turning red and he backtracked, swiftly getting to his feet. “I don’t mean it like that! Just – you now, that’s my kid in there and you’re my….”

Amused, you questioned him further. “You’re what?”

Zoro cursed; cheeks bruised with embarrassment. Taking his hand, you smiled up at him and his body resigned. He pulled you up from the desk and held you at the waist, thumbs caressing the hem of your blouse. Realization hit him that you were going to be glowing with child, his child and the thought brushed away all insecurities. He took you in his arms and lifted your chin, eyes baring into yours.

“You’re the mother of my child and I love you.” Perfected words came from his mouth before his lips touched yours and his arms moved around your waist. He pulled you closer, kissing you gently, cradling your back delicately. He was terrified, a feeling that was foreign to him because now more than ever, he had something so precious to lose. His lips parted from yours and he smirked at the way your eyes fluttered open, and he brushed a thumb over the bottom of your lip. “So, we’re really going to do this?”

“I love you, Zoro,” you grinned, grabbing his hand to place over your stomach. “…and yes, we’re going to do this.”

Lost in the moment, in one another’s eyes, neither of you heard footsteps approaching. Both jumping back when two hands patted your backs – it was Robin at the doorway. “What a pleasant surprise, are you going to tell the others? Nami didn’t place her bets on Zoro.”

Zoro cringed at the thought of anyone else but him being the one to have gotten you pregnant – it made him want to fight Sanji, because he was sure that’s who Nami thought the father was. It made him mad, but then you touched his shoulder. “Might as well tell them all.”

“Yeah, probably,” he sighed contently, feeling your hand on his back. He nodded to Robin and told her to lead the way – the three of you leaving for the main deck where everyone was gathered, showing off the goodies they had purchased in town. Everyone’s attention drew away from their purchases, eyes focused on Zoro and you as Robin stepped aside. The swordsman and you exchanged glances before you blurted out the news. “Zoro and I are going to have a baby. I’m about three months pregnant and I’m sorry if this puts a damper on things for us as a crew….”

“Don’t be sorry.” Zoro placed a protective hand on the small of your back and looked at Luffy. “I intend on seeing all my promises through, we both do.”

Luffy stared and stared, everyone silent, until a smile pulled from the corner of his mouth, and he rejoiced. “How cool! A baby! That’s like another crew member! You’re gonna teach it three sword style, right, Zoro?”

“Luffy, you can’t give a baby a sword!”

Usopp chastised the captain while Sanji sighed. “Zoro, you’re a lucky bastard. I guess I need to go back into town to get more supplies. A pregnancy calls for healthy foods.”

“I’ll need some medical books; you should be taking vitamins as well.” Chopper tapped at his chin, asking if he could do a full examination on you. You agreed to bring him the paperwork from the doctor’s office tomorrow as well. You relaxed as Zoro told Franky about the extra room, the two men moving off to the side to discuss plans for some renovations. Robin mentioned a bookstore in town. “We can go get some baby books.”

Everyone busied themselves with plans and you felt a wave of relief that the crew was actually happy about the baby, so much relief, that you placed a loving hand on your stomach. It was going to be a challenge, further along in the pregnancy, especially with all the situations the crew finds itself in, but they were your family.

Family protects each other.

 Eyes teared as you witnessed the love of the crew embracing Zoro and you then you felt a warm hand on your shoulder.

“I should have known it was him,” Nami smiled, patting you lightly on the head. “It makes sense now that I think of it. I do love kids, you know.”

“Good,” you laughed, holding back tears as she hugged your side. “Because we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Looking to where Franky and Zoro stood, the father of your child found your stare and he smirked. A soft, quiet, knowing smirk that penetrated the depths of your heart and you wished then, that your child would have his smile. Have his small smile and immeasurable strength. The child was going to need it– to the world government, the people that would love them the most, were dangerous people. But your child would know the truth, they will see it with their own eyes and feel it within their heart. They would have a crew full of a family that would do anything for them – no matter what.

[onyourhyuck]

LUKEWARM. L.DH | Episode 1

— Title: ‘Wasteland, baby.’

— Summary: Hong Yujin is the new patient at the psych ward admitted for her eating disorder. On the first day of being admitted she meets Haechan, a patient being treated for his bpd. Yujin already claims to hate him; he is everything she dislikes. Loud, annoying, self destructive.

— Genre: Psych ward, hospital, mental illnesses, can be triggering so read at your own risk, guys take care of yourself, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of bpd, suggestive, smut, angst etc.

— Notes: please don’t read if you’ll be triggered !! Take care of yourself guys.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yujin is emotionally constipated and Haechan is a meddler.

The two most complex cases in the ward — happen to be each other’s triggers and worst of friends in the whole of hospital. Putting these two and two together is like asking for a death wish to happen.

You see punishment takes in many different forms. Yujin is convinced that god is punishing her with Haechan messing up her life whenever she’s in a good mood.

The young girl only recently started to enrol in this hospital not out of her own choice. News spread around quickly of Yujin and of course Haechan wanted to see the newbie for himself. She remembers how he bothered her with so much questions on the first day. Now Yujin wishes he would choke and shut up for once.

If there was a thing to describe him. It would be running tap water.

Strange interpretation right? Yujin likes to think that Haechan’s like tap water. Distasteful, stale and unpleasant.

So far it sounds accurate to Yujin.

A plop of weight pressed on the mattress with shoes on the hospital bed. The boy crossed his legs over the covers with a gleeful smile gazing right back at the owner of the room who looks to be the most pissed he’s seen her yet.

How exciting. Haechan loves getting reaction out of people the most. The girl has been his main source of entertainment here since she arrived. It was like a blessing from God, or so he likes to think.

“Get out.” Yujin states not even bothering to say hello or ‘please get out’ it was just a flat out unemotional reaction equivalent to ‘fuck off’ which he pretends that it hurt him. But it didn’t in reality.

The boy gasps pretending to be a freaking sob but he stopped acting when the expression on her face did not budge. Haechan was intrigued by Yujin’s bluntness. Most other patients would’ve backed down and been submissive to him, but not Yujin. He liked that in a very twisted way.

“Oh come on don’t be such a stick in the mud, let me hang out with you.” Haechan flashes her a little smirk hoping it would encourage some agreement between them.

Yujin heavily exhales. Might as well add some smoke particles, Haechan swore he saw her head turning to flames any minute.

“No. If I want to hang out with someone like you I would get a pet dog. Now get out of my room!” The arms extend out towards the door so Haechan can see the way out.

Taken aback by such statements but not letting them phase him outwardly. Haechan definitely notes from bothering her as of lately he did notice Yujin was rather a feisty individual. Deciding it would be even more fun to get on her nerves and push the already pressed buttons even more just for the fun of it. He didn’t actually care that Yujin was upset.

Haechan’s back pressed on the wall while he was sitting up on the bed this time. Legs crossed over the covers with that devilish smile.

“Oh calm down you’re in a mental ward, I’m sure you’ll come across much worse than me.”

The audacity to have Haechan smiling at her at this time? Yujin feels every inch of her body blood boiling to the point she couldn’t stand straight and see clearly.

Yujin glares over at the boy who made himself comfortable on the bed unannounced with one leg over the covers as if he owns this freaking ward to himself. Yujin stands there in middle of the room immediately ready to protest to the boy who gave no ounce of care.

“Who do you think you are?” Yujin says with an unamused expression.

The boy notices Yujin’s reaction to him sitting down on her bed and her glare. It would fun seeing someone else react this much, Haechan sometimes wonders if her head will explode someday.

The girl has only enrolled recently. He grins from ear to ear. It was fun however. Especially to a guy like him.

Haechan leans back on the bed and rests his feet against the wall. He grabs a magazine off the bedside table and begins to read, as if he’s at home. “Oh come on, what makes you think you own everything here? Who do you think you are?”

Haechan taunts her back. He can’t get enough of this interaction. It was like watching a sitcom on television but he was starring himself.

The moment which was full of tension like a chalk scraping at the chalkboard in a classroom. It felt like a million knives stabbing in the same constant pressure point on a body. It wasn’t a good energy at all so when the young nurse walked in on the moment, she was rather surprised to see Haechan on the bed already harassing the new patient.

The nurse furrows her eyebrows. “Haechan shouldn’t you be in your room taking your medication with nurse Joong?”

His eyes dart away from Yujin to the nurse rather eerily and he slants forward with a dropping smile. “Awh bummer — well this was fun.” He said it like he spent most of the living moments in this ward.

Yujin couldn’t put her finger on it, but it certainly sounds like Haechan was used to the pills prescribed.

But before he was fully leaving he whispers to Yujin. “Welcome to the Wasteland, baby.”

Not quite understanding what the boy meant. Yujin frowned and turned back but by then he was gone on his way.

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work. Please reblog this blog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out !

[beababoobies]

can you write for a vox x fem! reader for an enemies to lovers?

for sure! Sorry this one’s a lil shorter, I have no clue how to write enemies to lovers.. but I tried for y’all! Also, Just for setting purposes, I made Reader the overlord of basically just, hell’s music. Thought that might be a good rivalry dhdkdjsid. :) 

Battery-Powered Love

Vox X Fem!Overlord!Reader. words : 1k warning for slight manipulation.

You let out an impatient sigh as you check your watch. You had been called to this stupid fucking meeting - which you didn’t want to go to, because god knows how much you hate the Vees. But not a single one had shown up - not even the one you could slightly tolerate, 

Velvette. Not even Valentino - god knows he was up to other than torturing Angel - and you hoped to Satan that it would be anyone but Vox. Anyone but Vox would be okay. An assistant telling you that you got your schedules mixed. Maybe even just a flat out no show. That would be fine. 

But just as you thought that - a swing of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and as you looked up, just to your luck, the flat-screen TV of a man you loved despised more than you’d ever be able to express in a business setting was greeting you with the smuggest, ugliest, most shit-eating grin you’d seen on his face in a while. This meant one of two things. Bad news, you owed him something, or He wanted something from you and was trying to play nice. 

“Good Afternoon, My Friend!” He said as he pulled out a chair opposite to you, resting his clasped hands on the table, putting on that insufferably fake classy act on. Like he didn’t want to shoot a bullet through your dead stare. Because he believed in reputation. Having a reputation in hell is like having a designer bag to carry your groceries. You don’t need it, no one actually cares if you have a one, but it makes you feel more special. You grimaced. 

“You’re already ten minutes late, Vox.” You said with a sigh, putting your feet up on the table lazily, leaning back with a tilt of your head, arms crossed to your chest. “Get on with it. I actually have things to do.” You snarled out, sighing as you leaned your head back on the chair, refusing to actually look him in his digital eyes, opting to stare at the stupid ceiling instead.

“Well, you are quite forward today, aren’t you?” He said with a small chuckle, trying to suck up his own ego for his professional reputation. He may have power, but you hold at least a quarter of his everything under your own music. He swallows thickly before continuing, adjusting his bow tie and straightening out.

“As you know, Alastor is back in town. So we- “ he started with bated breaths, before you promptly interrupted him with a snort. “Okay, I’m gonna stop you right about there.” You said with a chuckle as you let your eyes fall back on him, raising your eyebrows, tilting your head. “I am not getting involved with him. I have records to sell. I have an afterlife to live, until at the very least the next extermination.” You said with a heavy sigh, pulling your feet off the table and standing up, hands still crossed tight over your chest. 

“The reason I’m not dead is because I can recognize when someone can fucking kill me, Vox.” You continued, making your way to the door, turning back to look at him while you spoke. “If you expect me to-“ and it’s your turn to get cut off as he stands up as well, doing his off-putting electricity thing, teleporting from the security camera right in front of the doors, blocking your path. 

“Tsk-tsk-tsk, you’re so quick to assume.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully. “I don’t want you to go and fight him, darling.” You grimace as he starts with the pet names, rolling your eyes and staring at the floor, refusing to look him in the face again. “I want you to silence out his… propaganda.” He hums as you try to walk away from his bickering and nonsense, only to have him teleport straight back in front of you using the overhead light on the ceiling, causing you to stumble back slightly.

“That’s getting involved. A path to getting my screams played for everyone in this circle of hell to hear? No.” You say flatly, grimacing at him as he chuckles darkly, leaning on one hip as he looks you up and down, smiling. “But there’s so much we could offer you.” He starts as you try to walk away from him again, just to bump straight first into his chest all over again. 

“Maybe you could become one of the Vees. Valentino, Velvette, Vox, Y/N… you just have to think of a new, catchier name.” He says with a small sarcastic giggle, leaning down and looking at you with those stupid droopy eyes he always used when he wanted something out of you. The reason you always refused to look at him properly. You snapped your head away quickly, running for the door.

Running straight back into him. 

“You can’t just try to fucking - seduce me into doing your bidding! Jesus - fuck!” You groaned as you ran straight back into him, starting to fall onto your back, before he grabbed your hand, pulling you up and against him, one hand tightly on the curve of your waist, smiling down at you. 

“I’m not trying to seduce you for this in particular.” He said as you looked up at him with wide eyes and a small panicked expression, trying to think of a way out as blush spread across your cheeks, trying to pull your hand away from his to no avail. “I have much better reasons for seducing you, love.” He hums out, and you shut your eyes tight. 

Don’t fall for his trap. For your own sake. Don’t. 

“C’mon, give me a try, love” he purrs out, and you decide you at the very least have to assert some sort of dominance in this situation - you can’t get your way out of his terrifying grips - you can’t stop looking in his eyes - and so you do the last thing you wanted to - or maybe the thing you’ve been wanting to do ever since he walked in.

You pulled him down by his arm, lips pressed right against his, almost getting shocked by the electricity flowing rapidly though his veins, his own eyes wide - before closing them slowly. That was the absolute last thing he expected you to do - but he isn’t complaining. Tugging your harder again him, smiling against your lips. You pulled back, breathing heavily.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes, darling.” 

[maryangelex]

Never Let Me Go (Pt.2)

John Price x f!Reader

Part 3

Summary: After meeting John, you couldn’t help but wish and long to see him again.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some suggestive/mature language

A/N: did I say I was gonna update in Wednesday?? That’s crazy, I don’t remember that at all!! Anyways…here ya go kids, it’s disgusting and fluffy and short!!! I promise there will be smutty deliciousness soon!!!

This chapter’s song is Little Bit by Lykke Li

The next day you woke up and headed to work, everything was the same as usual. Except now you felt you had something to look forward to. Or more like someone you looked forward to.

If he even showed up, you thought. You didn't fail to remind yourself to not get too excited, to set yourself up for failure, just so that you wouldn't disappoint yourself.

The rest of the day at the cafe you served the same familiar orders, smiled at the regular faces, and that feeling of sameness and dissatisfaction was gnawing at you like it did the night before.

Despite your best efforts at not eagerly hoping to see John again, you couldn’t help but have a little bit of optimism and anticipation that he would walk through the doors again.

But what you worried would happen happened, and you were disappointed. It crushed your spirits to have let yourself get excited just to later on be let down.

You felt like you were stood up. And that night you locked up the cafe after the closing shift, said goodnight to your cousin, and went back to your lonely little flat. To do things all over again the next day.

You were woken up by the rays of light that bled through your curtains. As your eyes slowly peeled open, you realized you had fallen asleep on your couch, wrapped up in the knitted blanket that you kept there. You mumbled something to yourself as you rubbed your eyes, then reached for your phone on the coffee table only to check the time.

When you realized you had overslept, you jumped awake and scrambled to your room. All you could think about was that your cousin was definitely overwhelmed and pulling her hair out having to run the cafe by herself. She had probably opened late, too, and was more than likely cursing your name through clenched teeth. All these thoughts ran through your head as you did your best to get ready in under twenty minutes.

The best you could do was take the briefest ice-cold shower to get your body going and throw on the most cohesive, monochrome outfit your frantic brain could compute. The moment you made it through your front door, you practically ran to the cafe, the heel of your boots clacked over the cobblestone.

You finally arrived at the coffee shop, bursting through the door with a string of apologies to your cousin and a clammy forehead beaded with sweat. You peeled your layers off, one by one, until you were only wearing your long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and tied the apron around. As you circled the counter to get your day started, you rambled on to your cousin, who was barely looking at you as she poured an effortless foam art into a large round mug.

"I'm so sorry, cuz, I have no idea how I managed to sleep in so much—" You were cut off by your cousin placing the cup in your hands. Her hands stilled over yours as you looked down confused, then up at her. Her face was beaming with a cheeky smile.

"He's here," she whispered, wide eyes and smirking face expressing pure joy.

You looked over to the rest of the shop, your eyes scanning the patrons who had their noses buried in books or cups of coffee to their lips. Almost immediately, though, your eyes fell right on a familiar figure.

John sat at an upholstered chair in a far corner of the cafe, right by the large window with the sun’s glare casting over him, warming and softening the angles of his face. He was clad in a dark green sweater today, an arm crossed over his abdomen as he reclined into the chair with the book you gave him in his other hand. He was at its last few pages. His expression was that of concentration, with knitted brows and a light pout.

You marveled at him, your heart stopping in its track when you caught sight of him. But you turned back to your cousin with feigned aloofness.

“Well, he lives nearby apparently so it’s no surprise—“ she cut you off again.

“He asked for you, cuz,” your cousin’s eyes pierced through you, her face turning stern. “He walked in today and immediately asked for you. He’s been sitting there waiting.”

Your lips pressed tightly into a line. He was waiting for you?

Your cousin’s hold over your hands strengthened as she pushed you to move, to go approach him.

“Take this to him, cuz,” her tone was a mix of a plea and a command. “He seems like he really likes you…do this for yourself, you deserve it.”

You gave her a long look, her wide eyes were practically begging you to follow her advice. Maybe she was right. It had been a long time since you liked someone, since you let yourself let someone into your life. Maybe you did deserve to allow yourself to open up and enjoy yourself with someone.

Her hands let go of yours, giving you a smile as if she read your mind.

”Go sit with him, I’ve got it,” were her last softly spoken words before she sent you off.

You let out a deep sigh and gave her a light smile, shaking your head as if thinking ‘I can’t believe I’m listening to your love advice’, and made your way over to John. You picked up a pastry on your way over to him, on the house.

John looked up from the book as soon as he saw your figure approaching him. His face lit up, kindness shining from it. He immediately got up from his seat and reached out to help you.

At that moment you noticed that John had a thing for helping, for being of service; he couldn’t stand and watch someone else do something for him, he was the type of man that preferred to take care of others and do things for others.

“Thank you, love, I’ve got it,” he said softly with a smile as he took the plates for you and set it down on the small table in front of his chair.

You thanked him and stood beside the chair across from his, hesitant to fully sit and commit to chatting with him.

John mirrored you, standing up parallel to you as if waiting for you to sit first. Quite the gentleman. And because of that you couldn’t let the man stand like a guard, so you caved and sat down. Of course, he followed you.

You sat there for a moment and collected your thoughts before asking, “So you’ve finished the book?”

“I did, actually,” he smiled at you, his eyes locked into yours, and they’d stay there from this moment on.

“I quite liked it.” He chuckled a bit, “But it was tough to read at times so I took all of yesterday to get through it.”

So that’s why he didn’t come, you thought, he was too busy actually putting effort into reading the book you gave him.

That thought made a smirk pull at your lips.

“Thought you said you’d come for help reading!” You said slyly, and he let out another chuckle at that. You loved the feeling you got when you amused him.

“ ‘M sorry, love, didn’t want to trouble you much,” he confessed taking a sip from the cup of coffee. His words confirmed your thoughts.

He pressed his lips at the taste of the coffee. Too bitter, you noted he liked things sweet last time. And he reached for the sugar to amend his drink.

The man in front of you was a delight to watch.

“You like sweet things?” You asked, hardly noticing the fact you had spoken up.

“It’s a vice, truly, worse than smokin’ for me.” He said with a nod as he tasted it again. “We don’t get a lot of sweetness at work.”

You chuckled. “Well you should give that a try…” you gestured to the pastry you brought him, “I, erm, make them m’self.”

A light blush scattered over your cheeks as the man smiled cheekily, reaching over to take the pastry.

“I already know it’ll be good if y’made it, doll,” he quipped before taking a bite. John let out a slow hum as he chewed the bite. You’d be lying if you said your mind didn’t wonder to the dirtiest of places when you heard that sound emanate from him—you wouldn’t mind hearing more of that, really.

“Bloody good, love, fuckin’ hell,” the man sounded like it was the best thing he’d tasted, proceeding to devour the treat. You bit your lip to suppress a growing smile.

“Now you have a reason to keep coming, John,” your own words surprised you, not knowing you had the confidence to make such a comment. You practically just confessed to him that you wanted him to continue coming.

“Oh I already had a very good reason to keep comin’, doll,” his tone was flirty, and his eyes burnt through you. Did they somehow get bluer? You felt the sting of your cheeks at his comment.

You stayed there talking with John for about an hour, occasionally glancing back at your cousin to check on her. Each time she’d give you a thumbs up and a shooing motion with her hand. The store was relatively empty, so there wasn’t much need for an extra hand.

Instead, you got to spend time talking to John. You asked him about his work in the military, but he told you there wasn’t much he could say that made for good conversation. You didn’t mind, you simply cared more about getting to know the man in front of you as a person and not as much for what he did.

But he told you about the places he’d been to because of his profession, about his friends in the service and their off-duty escapades, and about his family in Herefordshire. He told you he has a dog back home, and your dog-loving self couldn’t be contained when he showed you the picture of him on his phone screen. It made him laugh how giddy you got and how your voice rose a couple octaves in excitement.

You asked him about his favorite book, he said The Wind Also Rises. And when you asked what music he listens to, he gave you a whole Spotify playlist which required him exchanging numbers with you.

By now the coffee in his cup was long gone, and a second hour had passed. Your cheeks were sore from smiling and laughing the whole time. He wouldn’t let the smile drop from your face by hitting you continuously with a mix of the cheesiest pick-up lines and the worst dad-jokes you’ve had the misfortune of hearing.

And the fact that you made him smile and laugh too made a fire kindle in your chest. It surged a warm sensation and made you feel a sense of home that you didn’t know could be brought up in you by a person.

John’s deep blue eyes were glued to you, taking you in like you were the only person in the world. And you couldn’t look away either, as if memorizing every line of his face and every pore, wrinkle, or blemish on his skin.

He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees to actively listen to you as you told him where you were originally from, how you got to co-own this place with your cousin, and how the two of you had made a business you were properly proud of. He listened with wholeheartedness and admiration, as if taking mental notes of everything you said to him, storing the information as gold coins in a treasure chest.

A third hour passed. Your mad ran dry with how much you had been talking to John. The two of you were now in a brief but pleasant silence as you took each other in.

“I really enjoy your company, love,” he broke the silence, his voice soft and earnest.

“I do too, John.”

“I’ve got to go but erm..” he inhaled, “I’d like to maybe take you out sometime.” He let out the breath he was holding, a grin on his face and a gentleness in his eyes.

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” you responded, making his face brighten even more and he gave you a pleased hum.

“ ‘M glad t’hear that,” his eyes raked over you then found their way back to yours. He looked at you for a moment before standing up to leave.

You stood with him, telling him you’d accompany him to the outside as you exchanged a few last comments.

You stood outside the shop with him on the street as he fixed his jacket back on as well as his beanie.

“So tomorrow at 8?” He asked.

“Mhm, I’ll be there,” you stood in front of him, craning your neck slightly to make eye contact with him.

He moved closer to you, standing just inches from you. You were reminded of his large stature compared to yours. His presence felt protective and warm in front of you, the cold weather felt like nothing thanks to the heat his body radiated to you.

John’s hand reached up to you, his index finger tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, with his gaze not daring to break away from yours. “I’ll see you then, love.”

The gesture made your whole body melt. You could hardly find any words to say in response. The most you could muster was a gulp and a shaky nod of your beer red head.

“See you, John,” you said, almost a whisper. And with that, he turned on his heels and went on his way. You watched him disappear down the street before heading back in.

You felt like you were in shock. Like you needed someone to pinch you awake or pull you back down to earth from heaven. Your heart couldn’t beat any faster.

It felt like every goodbye between the two of you was a door opening into another hello.

Like the void of loneliness that was opened in you that day was slowly getting filled by the warmth and comfort of John’s presence every time you got to see him.

And you couldn’t be happier about there being a third hello just a day away.

[marlynnofmany]

Medical Assistant

I was organizing a storage closet, for want of anything better to do on a long trip between space stations, when Paint appeared at the door with a message from Eggskin.

“They want your help doing something in the medbay,” Paint said, blinking in a particularly lizardlike way. Everything she did was lizardlike, because she looked like an orange lizard, but that blink was more lizardy than most. “They didn’t say what.”

“Well, this can certainly wait,” I said. Scooping up the unsorted shipping labels and alien packing tape (good stuff), I shoved it all back on the nearest shelf and headed for the medical bay.

I’d helped Eggskin with a number of things at this point, since my veterinarian training was handy and so was I. Also I was much taller than the little Heatseeker. Very useful when tending to tall crewmates, and reaching supplies that somebody had stashed on top of a cabinet instead of inside it. The medbay was very small.

Today I was greeted by the sight of a medbay that was far messier than the storage closet had been. Eggskin stood among containers and tools laid out on every flat surface, their scaly arms crossed, glaring at the jars on the examination table. The good doctor-slash-ship’s-cook looked mightily peeved. Which is a funny expression on a yellow-green lizardy type who was elbow height at best. But of course I didn’t say so.

“Hi,” I said. “You called?”

“Yes!” Eggskin lit up, and scrambled for a sensor tool. “Show me your hands.”

I did, waiting for an explanation.

The sensor scanned my palms, then beeped. Eggskin grumbled at the readout. “Mmf. Too cold.”

“Too cold for what?” I asked, feeling my own fingers. “They seem fine to me.”

Eggskin waved their own clawed hand as if brushing the question away. “What would you say is the hottest part of your body?”

“Uh, the inside? Is this a trick question?” I wondered if, despite Eggskin’s vast knowledge, they really weren’t that familiar with warmblooded species.

Another hand wave. “No, no. Sorry. It’s just—” Eggskin gestured toward the closest jars. “These are expired, and we will definitely want them on our next planetside landing, just in case, so I have to mix more.” The doctor paused for breath. “The components need to be stirred at a certain temperature, or else they won’t set right.”

“Dooooo you,” I said slowly, “Want me to put the jars in my armpits and jump around?”

Eggskin didn’t say anything, but raised the temperature sensor. Thinking dignified thoughts, I let my armpits be measured for heat levels.

“That should work,” Eggskin said.

“How long will I have to jump?”

Eggskin’s wince of regret was a toothy one. “Two minutes.”

I heaved a gusty sigh. “Yeah, okay. Can I play music to make it fun?”

The doctor nodded solemnly, gathering ingredients. “Take your pick. A fresh stock of dart-leech antidote is worth two minutes of auditory discomfort.”

I got out my phone. “I suppose it’s worth some jumping around too,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure you’re not likely to film this for laughing about later.”

Eggskin opened a jar. “It hadn’t even occurred to me. But if this works, I may call on your incubation skills in the future.”

“I look forward to it with great anticipation,” I said with only a little bit of sarcasm. And a lot of dance music at my fingertips.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!