#anyway i just really wanted them in one place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sheepispink · 2 days ago

Text

how to survive a horror movie ft Simon

It was a small joke, something he had just been curious about since you first mentioned it when you first met. “Don't really like horror movies.. or maybe that’s just ‘cause I'm on my own—the sleep after is terrifying.”

Months had passed, and you weren’t alone anymore now he had claimed his place as your roommate. So he may have challenged you, perhaps once or twice, insisting you had to watch at least one horror movie. It’s not like he wouldn’t be merciful and, in the worst case scenario, he promised to stay with you so you’d actually sleep after.

And, he got exactly the reaction he wanted.

You spent nearly the entire time hiding behind something or someone—usually him after you accidentally dropped the pillow shield you were previously using. Even though you were terrified, your eyes locked onto each frame, afraid to miss something in case the second you looked away it’d come after you too. Nails digging into the couch and knees pressed tight to your chest, you yelped at every sharp movement, having to muffle your scream for the worse jumpscares. You even scowled at him when he had attempted to comfort you— his hand on your shoulder making you scream loudly before you realised.

When it had finally ended, you looked shaken, but not badly so, just.. well as most people look after them. Even as you tried to play it off, he could see you were tired as well and he kept his promise, walking you into your room and staying until you reluctantly dozed off. He was plenty satisfied anyway—watching you get all riled up was far more of an entertainment for him than any movie could, so it was technically a win/win for the both of you.

Until you woke up at 3am.

A loud rapping carves at the window, and you have to hold your chest before your heart lurches out.

Just the pigeon. Right.

Gritting your teeth, you manage to make it halfway down the dark corridor, hands trembling as you peer into his room. The bed is empty, covers tossed to the side and, for a second, you're filled with dread, swallowing sharply. Then, a small rush of water is heard, and you almost collapse in relief, turning towards the bathroom. “Si?” You whisper, and the tap stops.

“In here.” He groans as usual, and you melt almost immediately. Or maybe you’re being too calm about all of this.

This was going too smoothly—suspiciously like the intro to any horror movie.

“What was the colour of my first car?” You ask warily and ‘Simon’ falls silent, before his voice grows a little louder as he seems to near the door.

“Why’re you asking that? It’s three in the mornin’ y’know that righ’?”

“What colour was the car?” You insist, hand curling around the air freshener spray you grabbed off the small cabinet.

Which brings him to the current situation where he opens the bathroom door only to be immediately hit by the can, bouncing off his body with a clang against the tiled floor. Of course, you scream when he turns the light on, not understanding what the hell was going on in his haze.

It takes him roughly five seconds to catch you after you attempt to run off, easily hoisting your trembling body over his shoulder. “I dont wanna die!” You wail, feet thumping against his chest whilst your fists hit his back; they're barely hard enough to even hurt though, let alone leave a mark.

“You’re not going to die.” He grunts—a tad guilty for being the reason you’re terrified out of your mind— and lays you beneath his covers. The duvets are tucked over you before you try and scramble out, the bed dipping with his weight as he takes his place beside you. “Look ‘m sorry for scarin’ you, but will you please sleep now?”

“If slenderman comes i swear—“

“Y’know…the movie said he’s attracted to sound.”

That’s how you end up tucked between his arms, though not after still trying to insist you weren't all that affected. To be honest, he caved the second he saw your eyes dart around when a bird flittered outside, goosebumps practically littering your skin. Your face is pressed into his front, hands tightly grasping at the back of his shirt and legs tangled in his. There’s no way you’d ever let him go at a time like this, and he’d be damned if he ever left you alone when you were this terrified.

He figured that’d be the end of it when you scrambled out the next morning, cheeks warm and rambling on about needing to get dressed for something. However, he found you on his bed later that evening, nervously fidgeting with his pillowcases as you waited for him to shield you again.

—-

chat im deathly scared of slenderman but i’d be down to watch it if i had simon riley to cuddle to sleep send tweet

buy me a kofi!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #cod x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff

465 notes · View notes

littlemillersbaby · 3 days ago

Text

"sweet treat"

request: so um WTH UR JOEL FIC WAS SO GOOD!! It was. A great mix of serious and smut oml- anyways I wanted to request for him again I see alot of Joel x baker reader ? Gathered this is when they’re in Jackson but you could spin it to where reader was a baker and they meet outside of Jackson etc IDK I just need another fic I beg ty ty word count: ? warnings: +18 minors dni, really sweet sex, joel being flirty and grumpy. please let me know if i have missed anything!

even after the many years you've spent here, jackson still smells like rain-soaked wood and smoke this time of year. you’d been pacing the bakery’s wide-plank floors for ten minutes now, tracing little loops in the flour dust, waiting for him. and he’s late, of course. because joel doesn’t rush for anybody, especially not for something as "unserious" as baking, as he likes to say.

you glance at the tray of eggs you cracked, the mountain of sugar, the softened butter, and the dog-eared recipe cards you scrounged from behind the counter. miss shelley, the older woman who usually runs the place, trusted you to lock up for the night. “just don’t burn the place down, sweetheart,” she said with a wink, and gave you a key.

you weren’t going to do it alone. not for the town’s spring celebration tomorrow. you’d begged him for this—him of all people—joel miller, resident brooder, secretly gifted with his hands in ways most people never got to see, but you had. *wink wink*

“there’s nothin’ complicated about cookies,” he’d grumbled that morning, folding his arms.

“i want them to taste like something, joel,” you’d insisted, poking a finger into his chest. “not like regret and disgust.”

he’d snorted, mouth twitching at the corners, and after a minute, like it physically hurt him, he agreed.

breaking you out of your thoughts, the door creaks open, and you don’t even have to turn. the sound of his boots on wood is enough to make your spine straighten, a ripple of awareness climbing up your back.

“you bakin’ or throwin’ a damn science fair?” he mutters, already peeling off his jacket. his eyes move over the counter, then to you. you pretend not to notice the way they stick to your legs, the hem of the dress barely grazing mid-thigh.

“just tryin’ to impress the town,” you say sweetly. “or you. which ever’s harder.”

his brow arches. “you ain’t got to dress like that to impress me.”

you flash him a fake innocent look. “like what?”

“like trouble,” he says, low, making you glance away with flustered cheeks.

he rolls his sleeves up, exposing those forearms that should to be illegal. thick-veined, tan, dusted with salt and pepper hair.

you hand him the bowl. “start creamin’ the butter and sugar. use the wooden spoon.”

“bossy tonight, huh?” he grumbles, but he does it.

you watch the muscles flex as he works, the way his wrist moves in slow circles.

“did you ever bake with sarah?” you ask, casually. you two have spoken briefly about his relationship with sarah. he was very hesitant to tell you how she died, but after a couple of beers, he poured his heart out.

his jaw tenses, but it’s a soft thing, not offense or sadness.

“yeah...when she was little. she’d make a fuckin’ mess of it, but.... thankfully made the place smell like cake for a week.”

you don’t answer, just let the silence sit between you. it was kinda nice working in silence with his comfortable presence.

he looks at you after a moment. “you know what you’re doin’?”

“not really, it's a new recipe,” you say cheerfully. “that’s why you’re here, to try it with me.”

“should’ve known this was a trap,” he mutters.

you laugh, and you’re leaning over to grab the flour, one foot off the ground, hips tilted just enough that the dress pulls up—and you feel a smack.

a puff of white explodes against your ass cheek. you yelp and whirl around. joel’s holding a fistful of flour, smug as sin.

“did you just—”

“you bent over like that in front of me, ‘course i did.” he shrugs, not even sorry.

you grab your own handful, lob it at his chest. “you’re such a child.”

he lunges, making you squeal and dart around the island, heaving a laugh that feels good echoing in the high ceiling of the bakery.

“you think you’re fast, huh?” he growls.

“i know i’m faster than you, old man.”

“fuckin’—”

he catches you by the waist, spins you, lifts you onto the counter. your thighs part around his hips automatically, your breath caught in your throat. his eyes burn into yours, all the humor gone.

“shouldn’t tease me like that, darlin’,” he says. his voice is grainy and mean.

you stare up at him, pupils blown wide. you whisper, “do something about it, then”

his lips crash into yours too quickly to even comprehend. the kiss was completely savage. no sweet build-up or gentle asking, his hand cups the back of your neck, fingers threaded through your hair, tugging until your mouth opens wider under his. his tongue licks into you like he’s starved for it, like the taste of you is the first thing he’s allowed himself to want in years.

your legs hook around his waist, heels digging into the meat of his ass. he grunts into your mouth, grinding forward, and you feel the thick, heavy line of him through his jeans.

“fuck,” he mutters against your lips, voice thick with gravel. “you planned this, didn’t you? struttin’ around in that little thing—bendin’ over like you wanted my goddamn hands all over you.”

you nod, panting, lips kiss-bitten and tingling.

“yeah?” he hisses, gripping your thighs and dragging you closer to the edge of the counter. “then you’re gettin’ what you asked for.”

his mouth dips to your neck, licking and biting. his salt and pepper beard scrapes the sensitive skin as he drags his lips lower, working open-mouthed kisses along your throat, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts.

“take it off,” he growls, tugging at the hem of your dress.

you lift your arms, and he peels it off slowly, but the second it’s over your head, his control breaks.

“jesus,” he mutters, staring at you in nothing but a lacy bra and matching panties, flour dusted across your hips. “fuckin’ look at you.”

he sinks to his knees.

that's a sight to see, joel miller on his knees.

your hands scramble for something to hold onto as he spreads your thighs, dragging you forward until your ass is barely balanced on the edge of the counter. he kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other.

“you know what’s the best part of bakin’?” he asks, voice dark and close.

you shake your head, too breathless to answer.

“gettin’ to taste what you made.”

his mouth presses against the damp cotton of your panties, tongue laving up the center, making your hips jerk.

“you..fuck—joel—”

he hums against you, fingers digging into your hips to hold you still. then he hooks a finger into the waistband and peels your panties down, dragging them over your knees, off your ankles.

he looks up at you from between your legs, eyes firey, lips already wet with you.

“keep your fuckin’ eyes on me.” his tongue slides between your folds, slow at first, savoring you; he licks broad and flat, then teasing, flicking over your clit just to hear you whimper.

your thighs begin to shake.

“more,” you beg, voice breaking.

he gives it to you. sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue around it like he’s drawing circles on your spine. his fingers join the party—one thick finger sliding into you, crooking just right, then a second stretching you open.

his beard is slick with your arousal. he groans like he needs the taste, like your pussy is the only thing that’s ever mattered.

you claw at his hair, hips bucking wildly against his mouth.

“you gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, tongue fucking back in before you can answer.

you cum with a choked cry, thighs clamped around his head, heels drumming against his back.

he doesn’t stop. just continues to lick you through it, makes you ride it out until you’re twitching and whimpering his name like a chant.

he finally stands, face soaked and shining with you. he drags the back of his hand across his mouth, but doesn’t wipe all of it away.

“never tasted anything sweeter,” he mutters.

then his hands are on his belt. the worn leather creaks, and the somewhat rusted zipper hisses. he pulls his cock free and it’s thick, long and heavy with a flushed red tip.

“joel—”

he shoves your knees up, crowding in between them, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

“look at this mess,” he growls, dragging the head through your folds. “so fuckin’ wet for me. you wanted it, now take it.”

he pushes in, instantly. his cock splits you slow, and wide continuing to drag along walls already swollen from his mouth.

you grip his shoulders hard, fingertips digging into muscle. he’s not even all the way in and your pussy’s already fluttering, already trying to squeeze around him like it’s too much—like he built it for you and you’re still not ready.

“joel,” you gasp, voice strangled, “fuck—fuck me—”

he stills, deep enough that your breath catches in your throat.

“you feel that?” he growls, hand cupping your jaw, angling your face up so you have to look him in the eye. “how tight you are around me? like you’re tryin’ to keep me in.”

you whimper as his cock pulses inside you.

“this what you wanted, sugar?” he grits through his teeth. “havin’ me take you right here? bent over flour and cookie dough?”

“yes,” you whine. “wanted it all day, wanted you—”

he starts to move. slow grind, hips rolling, his cock dragging against every single hypersensitive nerve like he’s trying to reprogram your body from the inside out.

“say it again.”

“wanted you,” you cry, fingers fisting in his shirt. “wanted your hands, your mouth—your cock, joel—”

he groans and slams into you, the counter creaking, your breath punched from your lungs.

“that’s it,” he growls, picking up the pace, fucking you deeper now, hard and mean and perfect. “you know how long i been thinkin’ about this? thinkin’ about takin’ this sweet little body—watchin’ that mouth beg me for more while you come all over my fuckin’ face?”

you can’t even answer him. you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, mouth open, just a mess.

he leans down, forehead to yours, panting against your lips.

“you don’t even know, do you?” he says. “how fuckin’ crazy you make me. God, the way you look at me, the way you talk—all that smartass mouth—and i been wantin’ to shut it with my dick since the day you showed up.”

“then do it,” you whimper, dazed and desperate. “joel, please—please—”

he pulls out and grabs your throat. not choking you—just slightly guiding. his cock taps your lips, stil wet with your arousal.

“open up.”

you moan around him as soon as he pushes in, filling your mouth.

“gotdamn,” he groans, head tipped back. “that’s it, baby...suck it like you mean it.”

you swirl your tongue around the tip, lips stretched wide. your hands grip his thighs, your throat working as he fucks your mouth slow.

“look so fuckin’ good like this,” he mutters. “slobberin’ all over me.”

you pull off with a wet pop. “want you back inside me,” you whisper, spit and precome slick on your chin. “please—want you to ruin me, joel.”

his hands are on you in a second—turning you, bending you over the counter, yanking your ass up. he slaps it once, the crack loud in the quiet bakery.

“ask me nice.”

“joel, please—fuck me. hard.... don’t stop till i’m cryin’.”

he drives into you in one savage thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“you asked for it,” he growls, and starts pounding into you, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise you. the counter shakes beneath you. something falls off the shelf, shatters on the floor. yet neither of you care.

his balls slap your clit on every thrust, your juices loud and wet and obscene.

“you hear that?” he snarls. “that’s how wet you are for me. so desperate, so fuckin’ needy.” you can't help crying at the immense pleasure—tears dripping off your chin, mouth open on a moan that never ends.

“you gonna come for me again?”

“yes, yes—joel, i’m—fuck—i’m gonna—”

he reaches around, finds your clit, rubs it in tight messy circles. “then do it....cum pretty,”

your whole body spasms, toes curling, back arching, choking on a scream as your pussy clenches tight around him, milking his cock.

joel snarls, fingers digging deeper, hips jerking once, twice—then he comes. spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

you feel the heat of it, dripping out as he keeps fucking into you slow, like he doesn’t want to stop.

you both sag over the counter, chests heaving.

“...still think bakin’s for suckers?” you rasp, voice shot.

he huffs a laugh against your shoulder.

“depends what i’m bakin’ in.”

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @555aturn

#𓇢𓆸 requests #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #divider by @i-mmaculatus #gif by @ransomflanagan

547 notes · View notes

bluewithpurplepolkadots · 14 hours ago

Text

What’s that one post?

In supernatural horror the characters have the misfortune of living in a universe where the murder blood ghosts and other things are real. You don’t get to be smug because we live in a world where such things aren’t.

…

Like you use an ouija board here, in our world? Anything that happens is just your own imagination or someone pulling a prank or because you entered a house with carbon monoxide poisoning and are having a bad time or what have you. Because demons and ghosts aren’t real here. We got lucky in that respect l guess. That’s really it.

And like for the non-supernatural slasher horror: the hell are you going to do? People panic and rightly so. And sometimes with all the plans and contingencies in the world you can’t avoid it. Fire drills for instance don’t guarantee your survival in the event of a fire. They just up the odds you will.

Nothing is a guarantee.

Real life also doesn’t even have to adhere to tropes where you get to be the final girl or avoid the horrors altogether or whatever. All it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe the killer is silently waiting to stab The Friend-Abandoner/ The Smug -Too Smart for This-Asshole?

Maybe you checked everything in the car and that extra time gave time for the killer to find you or track you to your home. Maybe not checking and flooring it made them do the classic rise up from the back seat. Maybe the killer turns out to be your seemingly loving boyfriend who lives with you and was saving you for last. Who knows. Horror doesn’t have to be fair. And like honestly: thinking you’re above it all is quite possibly playing into horror tropes anyway (if you find yourself trapped in such narratives).

It’s okay to not like horror but I wonder if some people’s hatred or mockery for it is also tied to people who hate tragedies, another valid form of fiction. Like in the screenshot they can’t stand the idea that bad things can happen to anyone and you can’t always avoid it.

Once again, it’s okay for it to not be your thing and to want more hopeful things in fiction. Like for some people they’ve been through enough in real life.

But the smugness and stinging hatred for horror/tragedy or the characters in it can be a bit much and is generally by people who haven’t been through said bad shit. Because these people know better than anyone that you can’t always avoid such things easily. That mistakes or bad luck are a part of the deal.

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

#Fiction #Was in my drafts #Horror

63K notes · View notes

geddyqueer · 17 hours ago

Text

tidbit tuesday

since the people asked. idk how quickly i'll finish this but here's some 8x17 reaction fic:

"I was homeless," Buck says, as the light turns green. "When I was younger."

He feels, rather than sees, Tommy's gaze linger on him briefly before he takes his foot off the brake. "When you were traveling?"

"Yeah. And for a while in LA, too. Like—I was sleeping inside, but I didn't have a mailing address for a long time. And then I was couchsitting. And then I lived with five other guys, and then I squatted at Abby's for a few months after she ghosted me."

Tommy releases a long breath at that. "The green apartment?"

"Yeah," Buck says.

"Did you ever find a pair of black Chelsea boots? Size 12? In a closet or something? I never got those back from her."

Buck turns to look at him. He's focused very hard on the road. "Were they Red Wings?"

Tommy nods.

"Yeah," Buck says. He remembers the way they were molded to someone else's feet, the way they chafed at his ankle bone, but that they carried him along through the loneliest days back then. "I wore them into the ground."

He realizes, as Tommy bursts out laughing, as he bursts out laughing too, that this is the first time they've actually talked about Abby since the night they broke up. Not like they've had time, in the intervening months. Maybe they'll have time now.

"I'm glad someone was wearing them," Tommy says, when he finally catches his breath. "I'm glad it was you."

He turns onto Bedford Street and slows down.

"The loft was the first place I ever lived that was really mine," Buck says. "Other than the old Jeep, I guess. I lived in that for a couple years. Sometimes I'd find short term rentals, but usually I just slept in the car."

Tommy's hand makes its way across the center console, open and inviting, and Buck slots his hand into it. They're pulling into the long stretch of empty street parking in front of the next house, now. It doesn't look like Eddie's here, but Tommy leaves the driveway empty anyway.

"This place felt like mine for a little while. Not—not anymore."

"Whatever I can do to make my house feel like home, Evan," Tommy says. "For as long as you want to live there. Even if it's just a week, or for—I don't know. Just say the word and I'll do it, okay?"

"What if I want a bunch of flamingos in the front yard?"

"Plastic ones, I hope," Tommy says. "I can't afford to put in a flamingo pond right now."

"But you would do that?"

"If I had the money, and you really wanted it, then yes," Tommy says.

"I don't think I want a flamingo pond," Buck tells him. "Not right now, at least."

"We can table it," Tommy says, and he gets out of the truck.

Buck sighs, and squares his shoulders, and heads once more unto the breach.

#thinking about a lot of things re: that episode; buck's history; the way people treat this character in canon #anyway. still not quite sure what this fic is going to be but it is going to be something.#my fic #wip games #bucktommy

281 notes · View notes

azonewithu · 2 days ago

Text

Its ok i just haye everyone again. I hot lots of work in a shitty world ive ordered a kilo. Im going back to being Lethal we re likely enemies now. I hate you tv movie bitch assholes. Younreslky arent human once you tske on too nany roles. You no longgee can talk for fear of losing what you have. Or how people look at you. Looknwhet i havevto donEi gs covered in blood heart black. Im cheering for the red wings theyre not in it yhis year do forget hockey. I never really liked thosevtypenof people anyway. Everyone just tries to fit in. Cause sports ste too reptiyive and theyre kind of stupid boring. One a year i need to watch a game of snything. Whiever eins i care not where theyre from nothing. I hate everybidy everywhere so theres nowhere gor me to go. Ill just go home its better there. This place is idiotic snd cruel but you learned thetes bigger fish than humanity in the galaxy like me. And no you never ever had a doecislnllace above other beings in Gids eyes thats a koran fyckn lie fuvk thst rag yoo. Stuff it in ur own ur ass muzzie. We font cste nor do i ever wanna hesr passages for shit. Its s lunatics terririst guidebook to me. Rules too harsh whet muzzie oiece of shit wants to duel? See Emma or sucks to have to cone out and say the truth but i cant lie sboit God. God hates you all now. Thats thevtruth. No one here is kind no one herevis good. I told sn okd lsdy tiday a nice looking kne Gid dedpises this planet hes fone hes tired of propke and hes sent me to kill you all. I said thos to a lil old lady youbkniecehst dhe did sfyer i said utscehet you all deserve. She nodded and dmiled in a funny way. I said do you know already. Youre honna be sll right lady most people no. Yiu lived to understsnd but evrn if ur 22 ignorsnce is nobexcuse. She smiled and put her hand on mine. Good people Emma Watson truly actusl good people im sorry thats realky npt you or I it idbt nor you for sure. But for good people i feel bad for them. Good people suffer yhe most. Evil oeopke these days prosper. So how you doin orospering? Think about that you know nothing about sacrifice. What firvyour career thats not a resl sacrifice. Maybe i shpukd just sacrifice you instead. My troops tecommended thats the beet clurse of scrion to i kill you. I told them unless i say otherwise snyone touches her your ass is universsl grasssss. Youll duffer yhe worst tprture in all history. So theyre chill for now.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) + Joe Wright’s DVD Commentary

5K notes · View notes

blueberrypancakesworld · 3 days ago

Note

Hello dear. Can you write yandere Robert Reynold/(Void/Bob/Senrty) and female reader ? Thanks 💞

Void/Bob/Sentry – As a Yandere

Void/Bob/Sentry x female reader

warning: Yandere behavior, obsession, confinement, blackmail/manipulation, kissing, cuddling, power imbalance

Summary: As Bob, he was simple; as Sentry, he was a god; and as Void, he was a monster. But all three personalities would stop at nothing, not even murder, to get what they wanted when it came to her. She never leaves any of us, and none of us would ever let her go... she belongs to us.

info: Hi, sweetie! Thank you so much for your request, it means so much to me and I'm so happy to get a Thunderbolts request. I hope you enjoy reading it ;)

masterlist

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

As Bob, he was just a former addict, he was nice and friendly to those he knew and recognized.

He did his best for the team he now belonged to, but above all, he did everything for his love, “My Fairy” as he called her, because she helped him with everything like a fairy and every day with her seemed incredible.

As unbelievable as it is for any drug addict, Bob found something to occupy himself with.

However, neither she nor anyone else ever thought that someone as nice as Bob could become someone who would become everyone's nightmare.

It started small, with her having to lie next to him until he fell asleep, holding his hand, “Can you tell me a story?” he asked tiredly, and her movement prompted her to hold him tighter.

In the dark, she could only see him dimly, but she saw how he was looking at her...she would do what he asked, otherwise she would have to deal with Sentry or Void.

“Of course, Bob, I'll tell you a fairy tale,” she replied, holding him as the dark-haired man laid his head on her chest so he could hear her better, so he could be with her, so she could hold him.

His quiet “Thank you” seemed to dispel her doubts again. He just needed someone; he would never go that far... he was just Bob.

He was just Bob, he was everyone's friend, and maybe she had feelings for him after meeting him back then.

She had taken care of him and been there for him, but she never thought he could change so much, that behind every gentle smile and joyful expression there was always a threat. “I want you to stay with me and not go on the mission,” he said, immediately reaching for her hand and holding it.

The agent glanced at the others, and the Thunderbolts looked at each other uncertainly. “If that's okay, stay with Bob until he's feeling better. A relapse wouldn't be good,” Yelena said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

They all knew it was only a matter of time before Bob gave in and one of them would show up, which meant the mission would have to go on without the agent.

“Thanks, guys, really, that means a lot to me...especially coming from you, my fairy,” he said, and his embarrassingly grateful smile sent a shiver down her spine.

Bob took advantage of it, forcing her to spend every free minute with him, sleeping next to him every night and cuddling up to him, helping him with everything during the day, even though they both knew how meaningless it was, but she did it anyway.

Why?

Because she and the others knew exactly why: one mistake and they would be facing God and the monster. “You have no idea how grateful I am to you for everything,” he said one day as they were cleaning up in the kitchen and cutting berries and fruit for the others who would soon be back.

This made her look up from the cutting board where she was cutting kiwi fruit that her friend Ava liked so much. She had only been watching Bob out of the corner of her eye as he washed the dishes and tried to strike up a conversation every now and then.

Now, when she looked up, he was suddenly standing next to her, an almost excited look in his eyes. “Thank you, Bob, it's not always easy, but it helps us all, and I'm happy to do it,” she replied and was about to turn away, her heart beating a little faster because she couldn't figure out why he seemed so excited.

She grabbed the knife more tightly as his hands rested on her arms and he turned her toward him.

Perhaps she would have returned the kiss he initiated if he hadn't ruined it. “I'm so incredibly grateful, my darling,” she heard, and the slight change in his voice made her push him away...at least that's what she tried to do.

When she looked at Bob now, she saw the gold in his eyes, saw how his demeanor had changed from awkward and gentle to triumphant and proud.

As Sentry, he was a god, and her attempted attack as an agent would have hit him, would have gotten rid of her enemy. But he didn't even flinch and didn't have a single cut on his face, even though the knife shattered against him and Sentry was still holding her.

The weaker one couldn't free herself, she couldn't get him off her, she couldn't hurt him, and she couldn't do anything when he kissed her as he took what he wanted. “Bob just has to learn who's better for you,” the gold-eyed one said, giving her an amused smile as he slowly let her go.

She could have run, she could have called Yelena and told her what had happened, but he saw everything she did.

Her steps backward only made him follow her, watching her like something to look at, like a pet he wanted to touch, while her heart, beating with fear and uncertainty, didn't know what to do.

She tried to convince him, “Let Bob come back, Sentry, please-please, before the others return” she tried to argue, to reason, tried to avoid damage. Yet the more she talked, the more amused he seemed to become, the more his eyes seemed to glow.

The distance she put between them was a human attempt not to panic, her arms held defensively in front of her, a foolish attempt to convince herself that she had a chance against him. “You are truly an interesting pet,” he said, and her scream echoed through the tower as he grabbed her and lifted her into his arms.

She had to hold on to him as he flew out of the building with her, the living room far below them, the entire city beneath them as the wind swirled around them, her fingers clawing at him as she saw, despite his amusement, that he knew what he wanted. He was in control, he was her god, he was more than that, and she belonged to him.

His pet, that's what she was to him as he flew with her over the city, he liked her enough that Sentry didn't let her fall. Her fear and feelings seemed little more than a distant thought to him.

He had her with him, pressed against him, and like a pet, she would go wherever he went. “Sentry, if you would be so kind as to fly back, I don't feel very well,” she told him, looking at him and seeing that he seemed a little confused before he noticed the slight trembling of her body, the tears in her eyes, and how she clung to him.

He may have wanted to be more than a god, but in doing so, he overlooked her as an individual. “Oh, of course, my dear, forgive me, I forget how simple you humans are,” he smiled and covered her lightly with his cloak as he flew back to the building.

When she felt the ground beneath her again, it was Sentry who was holding her, giving her a moment before she sat down on the couch and tried to pull herself together. “I know the others will appreciate this, your care and caution,” she murmured, running her hands over her face so he wouldn't see how tearful she was.

How could she be of interest to a god? How could she let Sentry become Bob again? What did she have to do?

Questions swirled around in her head and she took her hands away from her face when the darkness that had disappeared turned into something else.

When only the god's glowing eyes remained in front of her, when the room was plunged into blackness, she swore she saw his satisfied gaze as she was swallowed up by nothingness.

The Void was a monster, a nothing and a someone at the same time, a state that could not be touched without being pulled in. But for her, he created what he had always wanted, in his infinite darkness.

In the blink of an eye, everything around her had disappeared, and now, when she opened her eyes again, the agent was surrounded by a cell.

Iron bars in nothingness, surrounded only by blackness, she stood there with nothing but him. “It's better this way, less fear, less pain, less discomfort in front of the other two,” he smiled at his other selves, and she felt like she wanted to hit him.

Sentry might have been one thing, but Bob, Bob was kind and nice, and there was an explanation for all of this. There had to be, none of this would have happened if something hadn't happened before. “Leave the other two alone, Void. You were pushed back, we can do it again,” she argued, taking a demonstrative step toward him.

Void wanted to hurt her, wanted to show her his fears and his past, but she knew that the others would help her, that she would help Bob.

Her attempt left him unimpressed, but his approach made her tremble when she saw only those golden eyes as his jet-black hand reached out for her.

Her scream was barely audible in the nothingness as she felt a sense of heaviness and emptiness, the pain she felt and Bob had ever felt when Void let her go of his own accord and she staggered back.

It made her cry, and she didn't know why. Her heart ached like never before, and she felt empty. But worse than that was when she saw the other two next to Void.

All three of them, Bob, Sentry, and Void, reached out their hands to her, after what she had been to each of them.

She was Bob's love, Sentry's pet, and Void's warmth, and none of the three would ever let her go again.

She would stay with them because she had never had a choice; they had belonged to them forever and ever.

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

@crimsonkingart

#marvel mcu #thunderbolts #bob reynolds #the sentry #the void #bob reynolds x reader #the sentry x reader #the void x reader #male x female #reader is female

215 notes · View notes

cheapshrimpysheep · 2 days ago

Text

In the Backstage

SUMMARY: He invites you to watch the inter-school Battle of the Bands where the Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools, one of them being Royal Sword Academy. But unfortunately, they come in second place. He also gave you a VIP pass to visit him backstage after the competition.

CHARACTERS: Pop Music Club 🎼 (Cater Diamond / Kalim Al-Asim / Lilia Vanrouge)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.330 words per character.

COMMENTS: The Pop Music Club was the first club with the cards released and the first one I wrote something about. But nowadays, and compared to what I've written for other clubs, I thought it was worth writing something new and better. Especially for Cater, Kalim and/or Lilia fans.

I hope you enjoy it. 😉

OTHER CLUBS:

But… We Lost… - Basketball Club (Ace / Floyd / Jamil)

Romantic Experiment - Science Club (Trey / Rook)

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce / Jack)

Unlucky Overtime - Spelldrive Club (Leona / Ruggie / Epel)

A Rainy Walk - Mountain Lover Club (Jade) / Gargoyle Studies Club (Malleus)

You are at another Unbirthday Party in Heartslabyul when Cater announces that there will be an interschool battle of the bands. The Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools including Royal Sword Academy.

The other Heartslabyul students didn't seem very confident that Cater and the others would win.

“Aww, come on...” Cater says disappointedly. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Well... some of us have already seen the few concerts you've given...” Trey says with that polite smile. “That and...” He smirks “We also know how much effort you guys really put into your club.”

“Auch, you are such meanies.” Cater says sadly. “Do you really have no hope in us?”

“I wouldn't say we have no hope. I do hope you win.” Trey simply says smiling.

“We all want Night Raven College to win, that's not even in question.” Riddle says. “But Trey is right. The three of you have already let it slip that you spend your meetings eating snacks and talking instead of practicing. And I've also seen one of your concerts.” He says with that disappointed face that looks like he's about to sigh. “If you truly want to win against Royal Sword Academy you will have to put in some real effort!”

“I should have known the conversation would go this way." Cater sighs as he plays with a strand of hair. “But you're right, Housewarden. I promise we'll do our best. Anyway, I wanted to invite you all. Ta-da!”

Cater takes five tickets out of his coat pocket and gives them to Trey, Riddle, Ace, Deuce and finally you. “Front row! The best seats!”

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“You both count as one student, so you only need one ticket. Isn't that cool?” Cater explains.

Both Ace and Deuce say they believe in Cater and the others to win. Ace because he's a bootlicker and Deuce because he's just that naive. As Grim begins to focus more on the food than on you, Cater gets closer.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” He whispers to you. “You're going to root for me, aren't you~? I got you a special ticket.” He discreetly passes you another paper that said ‘VIP pass’. “You can meet me backstage after the concert if you want. You will make Cay-kun very happy if you do~” he winks.

Cater was really happy to see you in the audience, in the seat he arranged for you, along with the other Heartslabyul students. During the NRC song he looked at you many times.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time, they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and both Trey and Riddle told you that you could leave Grim with them while you went to check on Cater. They could tell that he had worked hard and might be a little down from losing to RSA. They also agreed that you would be the best person to cheer him up if needed.

Using your VIP pass, you entered backstage and passed Kalim and Lilia in the hallways. Kalim was happy to have made it this far to the point of being ranked second among so many other schools with talented students and so was Lilia. But Lilia whispered to you that perhaps Cater would be more cheer up if you went to see him in their dressing room.

You do so and Lilia and Kalim head outside to meet up with the others. When you arrive in front of the door that Lilia indicated to you, you knock on it and tell Cater it's you. He casually asks you to wait just a second, and only then does he open the door for you.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” Cater greets you with his signature smile. “I'm glad to see you using the VIP pass I gave you. I hope you enjoyed our show.”

You tell him you loved it and how it was the best they've ever done, at least compared to what you've seen.

“Aw, you’re so sweet~. We really tried hard this time. It was difficult to convince Kalim and Lilia to take this a little more seriously, but they did it for the school. Ha ha... It's just a shame we didn't win.”

“But you did won.” You say. “Second place at least.”

“Yeah... Second place... You’re right! We won one of the best places and I'm really happy about that. All our training was worth it!” He says with a big smile. “We should go celebrate with the others.”

But you don't move out of his way so he can go through the open door. You knew that was his happy mask and you wanted to talk to him alone, to try to get him to be honest with you.

“Before that, I liked to see your dressing room. I never saw what one actually looked like in real life.” You tell him.

“Oh, it's a little small for three people, but it's actually pretty cool. Come in, I'll show you.”

You walk in and close the door behind you, which Cater doesn't find strange. He shows you the dressing tables that they used to put on their makeup, the instruments that still needed to be stored in the boxes, the cart where their clothes were, etc.

“Cater...” You say almost interrupting him. He looks at you. “I know you're not doing so well. Lilia knows you're not doing so well. Riddle and Trey knew you might be a little sad after all your effort. You can be honest with me.”

“You're all so sweet to worry about Cay-kun so much. But I'm fine, I promise.” He smiles and winks at you.

“Okay. Then give me a hug.” You say, opening your arms.

He's taken a little aback and says that you're really cute, but that he's actually fine. However, you don't low your arms and say that you want to give him a hug to congratulate him on his performance. He sighs and ends up accepting.

He starts by giving you a hug like he always does. But then, the hug becomes a little tighter and more sincere.

“I’m sorry...” He whispers, close to your ear and with difficulty. “...I did my best...” His words were almost inaudible.

You hug him tighter and tell him that you know, that everyone knows, and that it's okay to be sad about not winning first place. You also tell him he can stay there with you as long as he wants until he feels better. Actually better.

This makes him hug you tighter.

“I don't want to waste your time.” He whispers again, as if at the same time that he wants to say it, he doesn't want you to hear it.

“You're not.” You whisper back to him. “You're never.”

He asks again if you really thought he acted well and you are sincere in saying yes and that he can ask whoever he wants, everyone will say it was their best performance. After some time, he breaks the hug and discreetly wipes away a little tear that you hadn't even realized that he had shed.

“Ha ha. This isn't very cute, is it?” He says.

“You are always very cute.” You reply, cupping his face.

“You too.” He smiles and places his hands over yours that you placed on his face. “Do you know what would really make me feel a lot better?”

You smile, showing that you probably know. You move closer to him and he moves closer to you in response, until you kiss. You feel his smile on your lips and then his hands on your back to bring you closer.

“(Y/N)!!!” You hear Kalim's voice shout, approaching, running behind you.

You were in the hallway, in the break between classes with Grim, Ace and Deuce. You turn around and Kalim stops in front of you, tired but with his huge sunny smile on. As he catches his breath, you see Jamil running towards you with that stressed look on his face. Kalim probably started running all of a sudden when he saw you.

“(Y/N)! There's going to be an interschool battle of the bands!” Kalim tells you. “And we're going to compete. You have to come see us!”

“The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College.” Jamil explains. “And the members can invite any students they want to the front rows of the audience.” He took three tickets out of his hoodie pocket and gives one to Ace, one to Deuce and one to you.

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“Since you and (Y/N) are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to be able to go together.” Jamil explains.

“I'm so excited! Especially to see you in the audience.” Kalim tells you. “I’ll do my best to give you the best show ever!”

After all the classes, when you were already in Ramshackle Dorm, you hear someone knocking on the door. When you open it, you see Kalim and Jamil.

“Hey! I wanted to give you something else, but Jamil said it was better to do it when you were alone.” Kalim takes a ticket from his pants pocket, a different color from the others, and gives it to you. “It's a VIP pass. I would love it if you could come see us backstage after the competition.”

“If we had given you this ticket in front of the others,” Jamil says with that annoyed expression. “I can easily see Ace and Grim trying to convince Kalim to give them a VIP pass as well. Even though each member only has one VIP pass each to give to someone”

Kalim was so happy to see you in the front row, in the seat he had arranged for you, that he got distracted before they start playing, waving and smiling at you. Cater was the one who called his attention to come back to the drums.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Kalim, Cater and Lilia backstage.

You found them in the hallway. The three of them were smiling and talking excitedly, and when Kalim saw you, his smile grew even bigger and he ran to you.

“(Y/N)! What did you think of our show? Did you enjoy it?”

He was as happy as if he had won first place. You should know by now that winning or not is not what's important to him. As you told them how much you enjoyed their music and how it was probably their best concert yet, Cater noticed something.

“Hey, Kalim, didn't you have a ring on each hand?”

Kalim looks at his right hand, which had a ring on the index finger. Then he looks at his left and sees that there is no ring. Kalim searches through his pockets until he remembers that he had taken off his rings to wash his hands and must have only remembered to put one back on. Cater tells him and you to go back to the bathroom or the dressing room to see if you can find it while he and Lilia go meet the others at the after-party.

On the way to the bathroom, the two of you started talking, about the music, the performance, the competition in general, other things that had nothing to do with anything...

In the bathroom Kalim looks for the ring, but came out saying that he couldn't find it anywhere, so maybe you should look in the dressing room. In the dressing room you look for the ring on the floor, since Kalim said he had sat on the floor packing some things. You find the ring under one of the dressing tables they used to put on makeup, give it to him and he puts it back on his finger. When he does this, you can see his nails better.

“Ooh, you noticed my nails! Yeah, they're gold with a tiger-stripe pattern. Cool, huh? I can help you do your nails like this too. It would be fun if we matched. OH! Speaking of which.”

He walks over to a large cardboard box that was in the corner of the room, opens it, and takes out a white t-shirt.

“Our matching T-shirts are custom-made, you know. We ordered more to sell as merch.” When he unfolds it and shows you the front, it's a t-shirt exactly like his. “Which is how we blew through what little budget we had.”

He walks back to you and hands you the t-shirt. It's a little bigger than the size you normally wear.

“Sorry, we only made one size. I think it was because it was cheaper. He he. It's the same size as ours.”

You thank him and say you're excited to trying it on, so Kalim turns around so you can swap shirts. As soon as you tell him you're ready, he turns around and smiles when he sees you wearing the same t-shirt as him.

“It looks so good on you!” Kalim looks at his hand which has the ring with a red stone. “Hey, try this too.” He takes off the ring from his index finger, comes closer to you and holds out his hand. “Can I?” he asks with a cute smile.

You place your left hand on his right hand and he instinctively puts the ring on your ring finger.

“Another gift for you. For being my best friend and best fan, Heh heh heh. I tried really hard today because I really wanted to make you proud. We didn't get first place, but second is also really cool, isn't it? I won for the school and for you.”

In the midst of so much joy, you end up hugging him to thank him for the gifts and to say that you agree that second place is incredible too. He hugs you back so happily that he even spins you around, making you lift your feet off the ground.

You knew that even if Kalim really liked you, he wouldn't just give you a kiss out of the blue. So you're the one who does it and kisses him on the cheek. He's surprised for a second, but then he kisses your cheek back.

“Even though this day is already amazing.” He says, still hugging you and his face is so close to yours that your noses are almost touching. “The best part is still celebrating with you.” He ends by saying in a lower, more affectionate tone. His eyes inviting you to kiss him again.

You do it, but this time on his lips. You feel his enthusiasm and love not only by the intensity of his kiss but by the way he hugs you tighter.

You were coming back from Mr. S's Mystery Shop, while Grim had stayed at Ramshackle Dorm out of laziness, when you comment to yourself something about the shopping bags being a little heavy.

“You should not be shy about asking a trusted colleague for assistance then.” Lilia says, suddenly appearing upside down.

You get startled and almost drop one of the two bags you were carrying, but Lilia catches it in time.

“You are carrying all these purchases alone? Allow me to be your cute little helper until arriving at Ramshackle Dorm.”

He puts his feet on the ground and walks with you. You ask him if there was any reason for him to be around.

“Do you mean any other than a simple, pleasant walk? Ku fu fu. Well, yes. I was looking for students to invite to the interschool Battle of the Bands. The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College against other arcana academies. One of our enemies being Royal Sword Academy.” He says with that smug smile. “I have a special ticket for you and Grim in the front row, along with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek.”

Lilia makes a ticket appear in his hand and gives it to you. He also explains that since you and Grim are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to go together.

“However,” Lilia smirks. “I have in my possession another type of ticket, an even more special and exclusive one, that I intend to gift to you and only you. Have I piqued your curiosity?”

Of course you are.

“Khee hee hee, that is the spirit! Here.” He makes another ticket appear, different from the first one he gave you. “It is a VIP pass. You can visit us in the trenches after the battle. Or as they call it, backstage.” His smug smile returns. “It would be a great pleasure to celebrate our victory with you.”

Lilia spotted you first. When you saw him he was already looking at you smiling. But during the performance he gave as much attention to you as he did to his Diasomnia boys. If you want to be Lilia's biggest cheerleader, you'll have to compete with Sebek, or simply join him.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Lilia, Kalim and Cater backstage.

You found them in the hallway. They were smiling and chatting excitedly when they saw you. All three of them really wanted to know what you thought of their performance and you said that it was the best show of theirs that you had ever seen.

While the four of you are talking, Lilia has the feeling of having forgotten something. And then he realizes that he was missing one of the necklaces. He must have forgotten it in the dressing room and suggests that Kalim and Cater go meet the others in the after-party while asking you to go with him to help him look for the necklace.

The two of you go to the dressing room that was provided for the three of them and start looking for the necklace. You ask him if he remembers when he took the necklace off his neck, but... he doesn't. You see him making that sulky face. His biggest pet peeve was missing things and then looking for them, and remember this makes you giggle.

“Are you laughing at my misfortune?” Lilia messes with you. “I lose such an important item and the person I trusted to help me makes fun of my memory loss. How mean. You are so cruel. *snif*” He fake whines.

You know he's just messing with you and tell him that you just thought it was funny because you remembered that it was his pet peeve.

“Do you know what kind of necklace I am searching for?” He asks with a smirk. “It is a long chain with a tag, all made of stainless steel. It's called Dog Tag, or more precisely: Military Dog Tag. Nowadays, many young people use it for style, especially cool band members such as yours truly. But its origins date back a few decades, during a battle between humans, as a way to identify soldiers who were wounded or killed on the battlefield. That is why these tags usually have the names, ranks and even the blood type of the respective soldiers engraved on them. Quite interesting, don't you think?” He smiles casually.

You agree, but ask why he decided to tell you that at that moment.

“Fu fu.” He smiles smugly again, the raspberry red of his eyes piercing you. “You are able to understand why this necklace suits me, correct? Should you not be more careful when laughing at me?”

In response, you smile at him relaxedly and tell him that you trust him.

“Khee hee hee, I'm actually glad to hear that.” Lilia smiles sweetly at you and suddenly seems to remember something that made him bursts out laughing.

You ask what he was laughing at. What had he remembered?

“HA HA HA HA! My memory really is not what it used to be. After our song, I accidentally broke my chain. But Kalim said he knew someone who could fix it and make it look like new. I told him ‘I'm actually glad to hear that’ and he put it in his trouser pocket. Ha ha ha ha!”

So you were looking for something that wasn't even there. And neither Lilia, Kalim nor Cater remembered that. You laugh with Lilia.

“Oh well, at least this little mistake served to spend a pleasant time alone with you.” He smiles seductively, abruptly switching the mood. “You know, second place is as noble a position as first place, but...” he makes puppy eyes at you. “I am quite sad to have dishonored our school by losing again Royal Sword Academy. *snif* Oh, if a loving soul could soothe my sorrows.” He closes his eyes sadly, but opens one to look at you with a sly smile at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle and ask if a hug would help. He says yes and hugs you before you can change your mind.

“At least it was fun.” He says close to your ear. “And it was a good sight to see you rooting for me. You are such a cute fan~” He pulled his head away, but didn't break the hug and pressed his nose against yours, looking at you provocatively. “But I wonder what kind of fan you would like to be. Cater told us some... captivating stories. Fu fu~”

Your noses were touching, but he wouldn't move any further than that. He expected you to take the initiative from there. If you do, and kiss him, you will feel his smile on your lips and the type of his hug gradually changing.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Cater Diamond #Cater Diamond x Reader #Cater x Reader #Kalim Al-Asim #Kalim Al-Asim x Reader #Kalim x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Lilia x Reader

330 notes · View notes

smutmind · 1 day ago

Text

Caught Pink Handed

IVE Wonyoung X Male Reader

“Oppa?”

You froze mid-stroke, heart stalling. Her voice wasn’t surprised. Just curious. You turned slowly—hand still half-wrapped around yourself—and there she was.

Wonyoung. Nineteen. All legs, lush hair, candy-colored top riding high on her ribs. That denim skirt brushed her ankles as she stepped inside like she owned the place.

"Didn’t your mom teach you to lock doors?" she asked, one brow raised.

You fumbled for your blanket, too slow. Her eyes were already on the laptop screen—your folder open. Her photos. Her in that low-cut tank last summer, the bikini on your roof deck, the mirror selfie she’d posted and deleted in under five minutes.

“Seriously?”

She laughed. Not cruel—worse. It was soft. Disbelieving. Almost flattered.

“Holy shit,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You were actually jerking off to me.”

You couldn’t speak. She tilted her head, watching your shame crawl over you.

“That’s what you do when we hang out? Sneak photos? Save them for later?”

Her tone was sugar-laced poison. She came closer, the heat of her body brushing yours without touch.

“I come over all the time,” she whispered. “Your sister trusts me. And you’re just here, like some sad little perv, getting off in your gamer chair.”

You swallowed hard. Your hands stayed limp at your sides.

She leaned in. The scent of her was everywhere—floral shampoo, warm skin, something bubble-sweet under it all.

“Did you ever think what would happen if she found out?”

You shook your head, throat dry.

Wonyoung smiled, slow and terrible. “No, you didn’t. Because all you were thinking about was my tits, right? My ass in this skirt?”

She stepped between your knees. Her hand landed on your thigh, fingers feather-light.

“Look at you,” she said. “Still hard.”

She leaned closer until her lips hovered beside your ear.

“You don’t deserve this,” she said. “But maybe I’ll let you have it anyway.”

You stared at her, stunned. She stepped back.

“Clean up. Sit down. Don’t say a word.”

And then she curled onto your bed like it was hers, phone in hand, not even glancing at you.

The silence stretched like wire.

You knew this wasn’t over.

She lay sideways on your bed, scrolling like nothing happened. One knee bent, heel bouncing. That skirt rode up her thigh just enough to torment.

You sat in your chair, half-hard, half-humiliated.

Then came her voice. Casual. Sharp.

"Come here."

You stood, slow, still not meeting her eyes. She patted the mattress beside her.

"Closer."

You knelt on the floor. Her gaze flicked down.

“Good boy.”

Wonyoung shifted, planting both feet flat, spreading her knees just a little. The hem of her skirt drew tight. You tried not to look. Failed.

She smirked. "You really couldn’t help yourself, huh? All those times I bent over in front of you. All the outfits I wore just to mess with you…”

You blinked. “Wait—”

“Oh please,” she said, eyes gleaming. “You think I didn’t know? You’re so easy to tease, oppa. That little twitch you get when I suck on a straw? The way you stare at my legs when I kick my shoes off?”

She ran a hand down her own thigh. “You don’t hide it well.”

Then she paused. Her smile dropped, just enough.

"But this?" she said, nodding toward your desk. "This was pathetic.”

Silence.

Her voice softened. “You wanted me without asking. Like I was just a thing you could play with when you’re lonely.”

That landed hard.

She leaned forward, touched your cheek.

“I should be pissed,” she whispered. “I should tell your sister.”

Your stomach dropped.

“But I won’t.”

Relief. A breath caught in your throat.

“Not if you listen,” she added, sitting back, legs spreading wider. “Not if you do everything I say.”

You nodded. Too fast. Too eager.

She laughed.

“Strip.”

You hesitated.

“Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You obeyed—shirt, pants, everything. She watched like it was a show she’d paid for.

Then she lifted her foot and tapped your chest with her toes. “On your back. Floor.”

Cool wood against your skin. You lay there, exposed. Waiting.

She stepped over you. That skirt hovered above your face as she straddled you, her panties damp, pressed against the fabric.

She crouched lower, letting her heat ghost over your lips.

"You want to taste what you've been jerking off to?"

You nodded.

“Then beg.”

“Please,” you breathed.

“Please what?”

“Please let me taste you, Wonyoung.”

She smiled. “No.”

She stood, turned, dropped onto all fours above you. Her ass now hovered over your chest, the cotton clinging wet between her cheeks.

“Here’s what you get,” she said, yanking her panties aside. “You make me cum. I decide if you get anything.”

You grabbed her hips. She slapped your hand.

“No touching. You work with your mouth only.”

Then she lowered herself. You moaned against her—she was soaked, warm, slick and tangy. You licked, desperate, your tongue exploring every fold, flicking her clit until she twitched.

“Fuck, oppa,” she gasped. “You eat pussy better than I thought.”

She rocked against your face. Hair fell like a curtain around your head. Her moans came sharper now, louder.

“Keep going—don’t you dare stop—"

She stiffened, thighs clamping, then shuddered hard. A whimper escaped her lips.

She didn’t move right away. Just breathed heavy, panting above you. Then she sat up and twisted to face your flushed, aching cock.

“Now you get your reward,” she said, grinning like a devil.

She straddled your thighs, hair falling around her face as she dipped her head low. Her lips found you, slow at first—tongue teasing under the crown, then sliding down, swallowing you whole with a messy, greedy hum.

You groaned, fists bunching the sheets.

She came up for air, her chin glistening. “You moan so pretty, oppa.”

Then she leaned in, her chest brushing your lips.

“You want these too?”

You didn’t answer fast enough. She reached down and slapped your cock lightly.

“Say it.”

“Yes��please.”

She smirked and pulled her shirt up, baring soft, full breasts tipped in pink. You sucked one into your mouth, her skin warm and flushed, her nipple hardening instantly.

“Good boy,” she whispered, grinding down onto your cock with her soaked panties still between you.

She rocked against you like that, hips rolling, nipples in your mouth, her breath catching every time your teeth grazed. Then she lifted, reached back, tugged the fabric aside.

“Condom?”

You shook your head, dazed. She laughed.

“Course not.”

She sank onto you bare—tight, dripping, so warm it made your back arch. Her hands found your chest as she bounced in slow, deliberate thrusts.

“God,” she panted, “you’re so fucking deep—”

Your hands gripped her waist. Her tits bounced with every movement, your mouth catching them when you could. She leaned in, kissing you wet and fast, tongues tangling.

A sudden beep—she glanced at the digital clock on your shelf.

“Five minutes,” she said, laughing breathlessly. “Let’s make them count.”

She climbed off and flipped forward onto all fours, looking back over her shoulder, hair falling in waves.

“Come get what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You knelt behind her, drove into her hard. She yelped, then pushed back into you with every thrust.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Don’t hold back, oppa—fuck me like you mean it.”

Your hands gripped her hips. The slap of skin echoed, loud and obscene, her moans rising higher, then breaking into whimpers.

“I’m gonna cum again—don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

She spasmed around you, mouth open in a silent cry as her body jerked. You barely held it together. She collapsed forward, then twisted onto her back, eyes wild.

“Finish on my face,” she demanded. “Do it now.”

You knelt over her. She opened her mouth, tongue out, eyes locked to yours.

You groaned, cock twitching, and came hard—ropes of white striping her lips, chin, cheeks, even her collarbone.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Just in time.”

She grabbed her panties from the floor and wiped her face quickly, licking her fingers clean between swipes. Then she pulled her shirt down, smoothed her skirt, and darted into the bathroom.

You barely had time to tuck yourself back in before the doorbell rang.

Wonyoung peeked out, cheeks flushed but clean.

She mouthed one word before she opened the door:

“Oppa.”

#ive smut #wonyoung #jang wonyoung smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #smut #male reader smut #kpop idol smut #x male reader #male reader

373 notes · View notes

fromwherespiralhill · 2 days ago

Text

I feel like people don’t talk halfway enough about how well these scripts work, once you find the ones that work for you… even though it’s so obvious that the well-established scripts have their place

We adapted the traffic light safeword system for sex / sexual scening, bc we learned about it ages ago and felt it would really work for us, and ended up w/ someone who we thought it’d also work for. So like after a handful of scenes where shit went poorly bc there wasn’t a lot of in-the-moment communication mostly because we didn’t have the language for it, we did decide to try out some new language, we did formalize when and how we want to check in / be checked in on. And holy schnitzel guys right, it works?? Next scene is like four trillion times comfier (AND FWIW SEXIER) bc the only gravely missing thing was a script to help us follow and express our real feelings… smth that matters a lot… during a SCENE…!!!

Relationship stages… I mean they exist for a reason too. How it’s been this time around is (and tbh similarly in the past for us) — those stages rly do exist, in the background and as a script, because they offer like… a framework to understand commitment on top of. Or more precisely, to verbalize commitment, but thats the thing: being able to word your feelings is often a huge part of how you understand them. So it’s part of understanding too.

Only, there’s a big catch (for us) with taking smth that has like… tbh so much cultural baggage. (Maybe like all the scripts people get judgy over, if you don’t meet them perfectly.) Well the catch is in the baggage lol: we just try to be aware of that baggage, and the expectations that come with it, cuz it is so freakin easy to fall into it like, yeah, just go with the flow and Advance The Stages because That’s What Comes Next (therefore, That’s The Right Thing To Do). Too many parentheses, paragraph break lol

Thing is the baggage doesnt make it useless to us. We still find comfort in relationship stages as a concept bc like of course we’re gonna find comfort in it, that’s what we grew up surrounded by. Speakin’ out of my ass but call it a “social script” cuz it’s societally normalized lol. We just take care with it, and that means doing a load of communication and just TAAALKING about… get this… what relationship stages even mean to us. Like what the words we call each other (and ourselves) FEEL like. Ikr, talking about a script, oh nooo, cover your ears—that shit is sexy too man

…And friggin’ important too. Stuff’s moved quickly for us, but y’know why we feel comfortable with that? Cuz it’s all on a real sturdy ground of talking about our feelings and figuring out + making changes for each other to help those feelings feel safer and more awesome. And when the relationship is (yea) literally mostly over text but also involves a lot of words, full stop… lot of the changes we make… are in those words!! In our scripts, in our ways of being and expressing together! And it frickin works!

Anyway we take a lot from our tbh fairly minimal total experience with scening and if y’all like caring about the words you say and the words people say abt you, you could probably give scenes a try

the vigour and furor with which some people are repulsed at the mere existence of a "social script" is just pure ableism. you sound exhausting to have to communicate with

#sex stuff #our own writing

1K notes · View notes

written-in-knife · 3 days ago

Note

Hi! Could I please request something with Jade. Maybe angst/comfort and a bit suggestive. Imagine that the reader/yuu has found a way back home and starts kind of avoiding Jade due to not wanting to leave him but also not really feeling like fitting in in Twisted Wonderland. How would this play out, and how would Jade take action? Or if you've got your own plot or genre, that's fine too!

Thanks! Really liked your recent fic about Rook :)

Easy to Read

Jade Leech x gn!reader, established relationship

they/them pronouns, Jade calls the reader darling, angst/comfort, open ended

Word Count: 1882

The merform pulls are going SO GOOD Y'ALL. IM JUST SO PLEASED. IM NOT AT ALL UPSET OR TAKING IT OUT ON JADE IN THIS FIC. HA HA. HA HAHA. Anyways. I love getting a plot prompt, it's really hard to come up with ideas sometimes, so thank you! It's a little shorter than my other ones, but I do really like how it turned out, I hope y'all do too!

After so long, Crowley finally approached you with the news you'd been waiting for. He could send you home, as soon as you wanted. You heard the undertones in his voice that indicated he would prefer sooner rather than later, but with how many messes you'd cleaned up for him and the outrage it would inevitably spark from the many friends you'd made, he had no room to demand you leave that night.

You were pleased. You were supposed to be pleased. This is what you had wanted all along, right? To go home? This world was a place of magic so far removed from where you were born. You had no place in it, you didn't belong here.

These thoughts kept spiraling in your head from the second Crowley told you the news while you debated how you were supposed to tell your friends that you likely weren't ever going to see them again. How you were supposed to tell Jade... How were you supposed to tell Jade? He'd always been able to see straight through you, always able to tell when something was off and almost always able to fix it before you even said it out loud. How were you supposed to tell the one person who understood you so perfectly-- sometimes better than you knew yourself-- that you were leaving and probably never coming back? You weren't ready to face it yet. Despite the undertones, Crowley had given you time, and you were going to take as much of it as you could.

For the first few days, you tried to just play it cool and act normal, but Jade could tell something was off. He always could. You may as well have been an open book to him, all your problems laid out on the pages bolded and underlined. He knew there was something wrong, but for once, he couldn't figure out what it was. You could tell by the way he looked at you, the question behind his eyes as tried to look for the answers in yours. But you weren't ready yet. He watched as you started to shy away from him. It was the little things at first; avoiding eye contact when you were alone which lead to too much eye contact when you realized what you were doing, the way your fingers twitched when he reached for your hand, as if you wanted to pull it away before he could grab hold, the way you held onto him a little tighter and a little longer whenever he had his arms around you. He could see all the signs, plain as day, but the answer still eluded him. He could garner nothing from your friends, there were no hints at Ramshackle. He hated not knowing, but assumed you would tell him when you were ready. But after the first few days, you started to pull away more. You stopped going to the Mostro Lounge to see him during his shifts, you were going out of your way to avoid him after classes let out by following Ace and Deuce to Heartslabyul instead, you'd even called to cancel a date the two of you had set up a month prior. You were so easy to read, so why couldn't he figure this out?

As easy as it was for Jade to read you, it was even easier for Floyd to read Jade. Perks of being with someone since birth. He knew something was up between the two of you from the first stray eye twitch. So he watched. He watched Jade's reactions as you started to pull further and further away, watched his brother slowly unraveling with worry. Not enough for most people to notice, but Floyd saw. He saw the weird, lost look in his eyes before he could slap on that usual neutral smile and the disappointment on his face after another shift that you didn't show up in the middle of. Floyd wanted to believe you two would work it out on your own, but it was really getting on his nerves. So when Jade actually zoned out during a meeting about the lounge, Floyd finally lost it.

"Just go talk to Shrimpy already!" Floyd groaned loudly, draping himself dramatically over the couch. "You're killing the mood!"

"I apologize, I wasn't aware that my relationship troubles were interfering with your good time." Jade shot back with a sarcastic smile on his face. "I assure you, I will endeavor to think quieter thoughts as to not ruin your day."

"As much as I hate to admit it, Floyd is right." Azul sighed from his desk, Floyd giving him a shit eating grin that was promptly ignored. "You've been off your game for well over a week now, I think it's high time to cut the dramatics and go confront the problem."

Jade's tense smile thinned as his eye started twitching again. "And how do you propose I confront a problem that I have no knowledge of and haven't been informed about?"

"What, they haven't told you what's wrong?" Azul asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"They haven't told me that there is anything wrong."

"So then why are you just moping about it?" Floyd grumbled. "Go ask! I dunno if Shrimpy bites, but they ain't gonna bite harder than I am if you don't get your shit together!"

Jade scoffed, but bit his tongue. He knew he was being silly about it, just wishing that you would come forward with your worries on your own when it was becoming more and more clear that you had no intention of doing so. Not without a nudge. There was also a small part of him that worried that you'd disagreed with something he'd done and were afraid to talk to him about it. Afraid of him. He usually delighted in people having a healthy fear of him, but you? The idea that you could be afraid of him hurt more than he cared to admit. Floyd was right, he had to go talk to you. He didn't want to corner you, but there seemed to be no other way to be alone with you anymore.

He waited another day to put his plan into action. It was hardly a plan, to be perfectly honest. Jade had watched you follow Ace and Deuce to Heartslabyul after class again, and went to Ramshackle to wait for you to come back. He didn't know what else to do. Hours ticked by, a pot of tea long cold and he could swear he had dug grooves into the floor from all the pacing he'd done by the time you returned home. He stopped in front of the fireplace as he heard the door open, followed by a loud and long sigh before you headed towards the lounge. You froze when you turned the corner and saw him standing there, his ever present smile still on his face but it looked forced. You shuffled in place for a moment before entering the lounge to drop your bag on the couch, not looking at him.

"Hey Jade." You said, clearing your throat to try to get rid of the strain behind your voice. "What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same." He'd been debating how to approach the topic while he was waiting for you, not sure if it was better to be blunt or to ease into it. The heat of the moment ultimately made the decision for him.

"What do you mean...?"

"We don't need to play this game, darling, I've barely seen you in a week."

"I've been busy..." It was a weak argument on your part, and you knew it. You couldn't look up at him, eyes glued to the floorboards as you lied through your teeth. You weren't ready yet.

"You've been busy before, this is not that." He took a couple tentative steps towards you, like he was trying not to scare you off. "Please, talk to me. I only wish to help."

You weren't ready yet. "I don't think you can..."

"I'd like to try."

The abnormally soft tone to his voice is what finally pushed you over the edge. Tears blurred your vision before you could stop them, a massive lump in your throat cutting off any defense you could try to form in a pitiful whimper as you did your best to just not start sobbing. Jade was in front of you in two steps, gathering you up tenderly in his arms as you desperately tried to wipe away the tears before your face could become overrun. You weren't ready yet, but you were out of time. Crowley had pulled you aside a few times already asking for your decision, getting more and more impatient with each visit.

"Crowley found a way for me to go h-home." You managed to choke out around the sobs in your throat. You felt Jade tense up for a moment before some invisible tension was lifted off of him, making him relax against you with a light chuckle.

"Oh, darling, is that all?"

You paused for a second at the audacity of the question, as if all your worries meant nothing. "What do you mean, is that all?!" You bit out, smacking his chest and taking a step back. "I'm going home! I'll never... I'll never get to see you again..."

He frowned, blinking in confusion for a second before reaching out and wiping a stream of tears off your face. "You've... already decided then?"

"What?"

"You said Crowley found you a way home, not that he was forcing you to take it," he explained, "meaning you have a choice to stay or go."

"I..." You hesitated with a sniffle. He was right, you did have a choice, but... "I don't belong here, Jade. I was never supposed to be here."

"But you are." He cut in quickly before you could go on, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "You are here, whether you were "supposed" to be or not." He pulled you back in against his chest, one hand carding through your hair and the other tight against your back. "I often feel I don't belong on land, but I am here. I have found purpose on land, I've found hobbies and interests and love on land, even feeling that I don't belong." The determination in his voice made you cry a little harder. "Just because I am out of place does not mean I don't want to be here... Do you want to be here?"

You nodded into his chest, snaking your arms around his waist. "I just don't know if I should be." You admitted, no louder than a whisper.

"That is something only you can decide." He muttered into your hair before pressing his lips to the top of your head. "Whatever you decide, I will respect it... but if I may be a bit selfish?" You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes as he gave you a sad but hopeful smile, pressing one hand to your cheek again. "I would prefer it if you stayed."

You didn't have to say it out loud, he could see the answer behind your eyes. You were always so easy to read.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland fic #mine #i also just finished book 3 in my reread so im READY to talk about the tweels lmaoo

183 notes · View notes

aleese1111 · 3 days ago

Note

Hi!

I’ve been diving into your Weak Hero class creations — you nailed it!

Would it be possible for you to write something for Ahn Su-ho? With a mix of heavy angst and some fluff at the end? Maybe they're in an argument — slow burn style.

not about trust, but fear | ahn suho x fem!reader

summary : they've always been each other’s safe place—until one night in suho’s room when a name, a worry, and a few misunderstood words nearly tear them apart. an argument fueled by fear and love spirals out of control, but in the aftermath, they find each other again.

warnings: heavy angst, yelling, emotional vulnerability, miscommunication, hurt/comfort, slow burn to fluff, established relationship, anxiety, past trauma references .

author's note: ops with this one .. anyway! my first ahn suho fanfic hooray! requests ,,

The rain was soft against the windowpane, a rhythmic tapping like the pulse of a quiet heart. The glow from the small lamp on Suho’s desk threw golden halos against the walls, and the room—though small and plain—held a lived-in warmth. His backpack sat by the door. A few stray books were stacked unevenly on the floor. A hoodie—hers, oversized and faded from too many washes—was folded neatly at the foot of his bed.

The silence was the kind that stretched too far, hanging heavy between two people who knew each other too well. She stood by the door, arms crossed, chewing the inside of her cheek like she was keeping something bitter from escaping. He sat on the edge of his bed, hands braced on his knees, watching her with guarded eyes.

She was the first to speak.

“Why him?”

Suho blinked. “What?”

She stepped forward, her arms still folded. Her voice was quieter now, but the edge hadn’t dulled. “Beom-seok. You keep bringing him up lately. You said he’s your friend now. That you hang out with him after class, that he’s... what? Part of your little group now?”

His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his face. “He is. Si-eun, Beom-seok, and I—we’ve been through some shit together. He’s not as bad as you think.”

“I didn’t say he’s bad. I said he’s… off.” Her fingers tightened around her arms. “Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. I’m just... worried.”

Suho exhaled, the sound sharp. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him to feel—”

“—To judge?”

The word cut her off like a slap. Her arms dropped to her sides, eyes widening slightly.

“Seriously?” he continued, standing up now, voice rising. “You’re going off of a feeling? Do you even hear yourself? You don’t like him, and now you’re acting like I’m the one in the wrong for making new friends?”

Her chest was tight, her breathing shallow. “I never said you couldn’t have friends. I just—I don’t trust him. Not you. Never you.”

“Right. Of course. You don’t trust him,” Suho said, his laugh short and humorless. “Is that really it? Or is it just that you don’t trust me?”

That landed like a blow.

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but nothing came out at first. “Don’t twist this,” she said finally, the words barely above a whisper. “Don’t you dare twist this into something about me questioning you.”

“Why not?” His voice was a low thunder now. “It’s always the same. Every time I try to let someone else in—even just a little—you get like this. Suspicious. Defensive. Like I’m going to disappear on you if I let someone else stand next to me for five minutes.”

“That’s not what this is—”

“Then what is it?” he demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re waiting for someone to hurt you. Like you expect it.”

Her voice broke when she spoke. “I never doubted you. I just—Beom-seok feels wrong. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s not jealousy, it’s not possessiveness—I’m scared for you.”

The words were raw, straining at the edges. “I see the way he looks at you sometimes. The way he talks. There’s something in his eyes. I can’t explain it. But it makes me uneasy, and I just... I don’t want you getting pulled into something that hurts you.”

Suho didn’t reply right away. His jaw was tight. His shoulders stiff. And when he spoke, it wasn’t anger anymore, but something quieter.

“Of what?”

Her throat burned. “Of losing you. Of something happening that I could’ve seen coming and didn’t say anything about. I’m not trying to control you—I’m trying to protect you.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

His eyes—soft brown, usually so warm—were unreadable now. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Couldn’t tell if she had just made everything worse.

Then Suho looked away, raking a hand through his hair. “Damn it.”

She waited. Her heart was thudding too loudly in her chest.

Finally, he looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have said that. About the trust issues. That was... cruel.”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him, eyes glossy, shoulders trembling under the weight of too many emotions.

“I didn’t mean to throw your past in your face,” he added, stepping toward her with slow, careful steps, like approaching a wounded animal. “That wasn’t fair. I was pissed, but I wasn’t thinking.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “You meant it, though.”

He hesitated. “I meant that I was hurt. That you didn’t believe me when I said Beom-seok’s okay. But I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re broken. You’re not.”

Her arms wrapped around herself again, this time not out of defense, but comfort. “It’s hard. I want to trust people. I do. But every time I try, it feels like a risk I can’t afford.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen how hard you try, even when you don’t think I notice.”

She looked up at him now, eyes brimming. “Then why’d you say that?”

“Because I was scared too.” He let out a heavy breath, gaze dropping. “Scared that you’d never fully let me in. That no matter what I do, you’d always keep one foot out the door in case I left first.”

The words were raw. Honest. The kind of vulnerability that was too heavy for a teenage heart to carry, and yet they both held it like it was the only thing anchoring them.

She took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to keep doing this. The fighting. The pushing.”

He reached for her hand slowly, and when she didn’t pull away, he threaded his fingers through hers. “Then let’s stop. Right now. Let’s start over.”

She stared at their joined hands. Then, finally, she nodded.

A pause passed between them—still, but not tense anymore. More like the eye of a storm after the destruction had cleared, the quiet relief that came after surviving something painful together.

He tugged her gently toward him, and she followed. Her forehead met his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her without hesitation.

No more words were needed.

Not yet.

They’d talk more—explain more—when their hearts weren’t so bruised. But for now, they held each other in the soft lamplight, the sound of the rain filling the gaps.

And in that silence, they began to heal.

#weak hero class x reader #weak hero class #whc #ahn suho #ahn suho x reader #kdrama #kdrama x reader #x reader #aleese1111

156 notes · View notes

bambieyedoll · 3 days ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * PAUL LAHOTE HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 paul x sunshine!reader

paul imprinting on you is… chaos. beautiful, confusing chaos.

you’re warm sunshine bottled into a girl—always smiling, always finding a silver lining, humming while making breakfast, waving at strangers.

and paul is the storm. loud. angry. intense. the second his eyes meet yours, he knows he’s screwed.

at first, he tries to stay away. he thinks he’s going to break you. you’re too soft, too good, too sweet.

the imprint drags him toward you like gravity, but he fights it—snapping at sam, pacing through the woods, snarling at embry when he teases him about his “angel girl.”

you notice him watching you. always at a distance. always with that unreadable look in his eyes. but whenever you smile or wave, he turns away like it hurts.

you start bringing muffins to the beach just in case he shows up. you bring extras for the guys too, laughing as you hand them out, and paul hates that they get your attention. he doesn’t speak, but one day you offer him one anyway.

“you don’t have to eat it,” you say gently, holding it out like peace. “i just wanted to make you smile.”

and something shatters in him.

after that, paul caves. the imprint drags him in, and he lets it. but he’s awkward at first. doesn’t know what to do with someone like you.

you’re too kind, too patient, and he keeps waiting for you to realize he doesn’t deserve you.

one night you find him sitting alone on a log after patrol, shirt torn, hands bruised, shaking. he won’t look at you. says you should leave. but you don’t.

“even storms have soft centers,” you whisper, brushing his knuckles gently. “i’m not scared of yours.”

that’s when he really falls.

you’re the type to greet the world with a smile, even when it doesn’t deserve it. paul is the type to snarl at the world for not treating you right.

you’re soft and sparkly. he’s sharp edges and heat. and he’s never been more certain of anything than this: you are his to protect.

paul is ridiculously protective. the guys joke about it, but he will growl at anyone who makes you even slightly uncomfortable.

you once tripped over your own feet and he nearly phased because he thought someone pushed you.

you’re the only person who can calm him down when he’s spiraling. you sit in his lap and hum under your breath, hands in his hair, and he just melts.

you always smell like vanilla and lemon and something safe, and he leans into you like he’s trying to crawl inside your warmth.

you surprise him with tiny love notes. stuffed in his pockets, tucked into his gloves, scribbled on napkins. they say things like:

“hope your day is full of good things!” and “thank you for everything you do for me, mwah!”

he keeps every single one in a shoebox under his bed. if he’s having a rough shift or a post-phase migraine, he’ll pull one out and just hold it in his hand for a while. sometimes he reads them out loud to calm himself down.

paul absolutely melts when you call him pet names. he pretends he’s annoyed “babe? really?”, but the minute you call him “honey” in that soft voice, he’s a goner.

the pack is shocked when they hear paul laugh. like, really laugh. it’s when you run up behind him and tackle him into the sand, squealing with delight, and he grabs you and spins you around, laughing so loud it echoes.

you’re always trying to cheer everyone up, and paul watches you do it with this stunned softness, like he doesn’t understand how someone like you exists in a world like this.

he’ll mutter, “you’re too good for this place,” under his breath while tucking your hair behind your ear.

he never thought he’d have something like this. something warm. something gentle. you show him love doesn’t have to be earned through pain—it can just be.

“you’re not a monster, paul,” you tell him one night as he stares at the scars on his hands. “you’re the safest place i’ve ever known.”

he doesn’t say it often, but when he does, it breaks you a little every time:

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you, but i swear i’ll never let you go.”

paul has a sixth sense for your moods—if you’re even slightly off, he notices. he’ll wordlessly pull you into his lap, bury his face in your shoulder, and grumble, “what happened?” like he’s ready to fight the universe on your behalf.

you are the little spoon. always. no debate. paul wraps around you like a human furnace, arms locked tight, chest against your back, face in your neck. if anyone walks in on it, he growls until they leave.

when he’s on patrol, you wait up for him, no matter how late. you sit on the couch in one of his hoodies, drowsy-eyed and soft, holding a blanket for him. he acts annoyed every time:

“i told you to sleep, baby.”

“then stop being worth waiting for,” you whisper, and he just melts.

you decorate his room with little plants, fairy lights, and photos of the two of you. he pretends to grumble about it but secretly stares at the pictures when you’re not looking.

on bad days, you surprise him with his favorite snacks and pull him into a pillow fort you made in your room. you put on movies and crawl into his lap with that sunny grin. paul doesn’t even like most movies, but he’ll sit through five hours of them just to hold you.

you call him “my grump,” “wolf boy,” and “sunburn baby” when he scowls in the sun. he pretends he hates it. he doesn’t.

when you’re cold, he literally radiates heat, so you cling to him like a space heater. he’ll cock an eyebrow like “oh, now you want me?” but then tuck you under his arm with a satisfied smirk.

the pack always teases him about how soft he is around you. he threatens to rip their faces off, but when you giggle and say, “aww, paul, you’re my softie,” he shrugs and kisses your forehead like, “yeah, i am.”

you give him little doodles and crafts you make—like a friendship bracelet made of yarn and glitter. he wears it under his cuff and doesn’t take it off. ever.

paul grumbles every time you drag him to the farmers market or local craft fair, but he loves watching you light up over fresh honey, handmade earrings, or tiny potted succulents. he always ends up carrying the bags without complaint.

you sit on the kitchen counter while paul cooks shirtless because he runs hot and “it’s too damn warm in here”. you keep stealing pieces of food before they’re done, and paul keeps smacking your hand with the spatula—gently, of course.

you’re always slipping your cold hands under paul’s shirt, just to hear him yelp. he glares at you every time, but the glare never lasts. instead, he grabs your hands and warms them with his own, muttering, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

when you’re lying in bed together, wrapped up in each other, you trace the lines of his chest with your fingers and whisper things like:

“i hope you know how loved you are.”

and he swallows hard and says, “i know, baby. ‘cause you show me.”

he tells you he loves you in his own way—by cooking for you, fixing your car, rubbing your feet, making sure you lock your doors, and standing between you and any threat. but sometimes, when the world is still, and you’re curled into his chest, he says it out loud:

“i love you so much it’s stupid.”

he’s incredibly possessive—but in a quiet way. like resting his hand on the small of your back in public, pulling you into his side when someone stares too long, or throwing an arm over your lap when you sit with the pack.

you make him flower crowns once. jokingly. paul sits there, arms crossed, deadpan expression, wearing the damn daisy crown like a war medal. the pack never lets him live it down. he doesn’t care.

“she made it,” he says simply. “i’m wearing it.”

he loves when you play with his hair. you’ll sit behind him on the couch and run your fingers through it while he leans into your touch like a literal golden retriever with rage issues.

you randomly climb onto his lap while he’s watching tv or doing absolutely anything. he never complains—just opens his arms like “of course you belong here.”

you always doodle on his arm in pen—little suns, flowers, your initials—and he never washes them off until they fade. he even glances at them during patrol, tracing over the lines with a smile.

when you’re brushing your teeth, he always comes in behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder. you try to keep brushing, but he keeps kissing your neck until you’re squealing and spitting toothpaste everywhere.

you tried to teach paul how to bake once. it was an adorable disaster. the cookies were burnt, flour was everywhere, and paul insisted the baking soda was “a scam.” but he kissed you with a flour-smudged face and said:

“you’re the only sweet thing i need anyway.”

when you wear his oversized hoodie, paul physically malfunctions. he stares. you catch him doing it, and he just shrugs like:

“can’t blame me, baby. you look too damn good.”

paul has a very specific smirk reserved just for you—the kind that makes your stomach flip before he even opens his mouth. he’ll lean down next to your ear, voice low and husky, and say something like:

“you gonna keep looking at me like that, or are you gonna kiss me, sunshine?”

when you’re excited, you ramble and wave and talk with your whole face. paul watches you with this soft, dazed smile like he’s being baptized in sunlight. and the second you stop to ask, “am i annoying you?”—he genuinely looks offended.

“the only thing that’s annoying is that i can’t kiss you every time you start talking.”

when you tell him “i love you,” he looks at you like you’re the sun. like you just saved his life. and he doesn’t always say it back right away—sometimes he just kisses your forehead and breathes it in like a prayer.

he’s not good with words, but he’s terrifyingly good at loyalty. you’re crying once because someone you trusted let you down, and paul holds you with this quiet ferocity, arms locked around you, whispering:

“you don’t need anyone else, alright? you’ve got me. i’ll never let anything happen to you.”

you don’t even have to ask him to walk you to your car or stand between you and a crowd—he just does it. every time. like his body has been reprogrammed to shield you on instinct.

he always says “be careful” when you leave the house. always. even if you’re just going to the store. it’s always “text me when you get there” or “don’t talk to creeps.” it’s never controlling—it’s that raw, fierce love that says please come back to me safe.

you think paul’s the one protecting you—but what you don’t see is how much you protect him, too. from himself. from his anger. from the part of him that thought he didn’t deserve good things. you smile at him like he’s worthy of every ounce of love you give—and it undoes him.

154 notes · View notes

solarmorrigan · 3 days ago

Text

In honor of the approaching summer, have this Incredibly Silly A Goofy Movie AU that I tormented my poor friend in the chat with. It's been sitting in my drafts for months

So, like. Eddie fails senior year. And is dealing drugs, probably, because they need the money, but not a lot of people want to hire him. The school administration can't prove that he's dealing, but they do know he's failing, and the principal still calls Wayne all "Your son nephew is a delinquent and is going to end up in jail just like his dad" and Wayne's like. Well, we can't have that. And he's got a lot of time saved up at the plant, he's been there for years, he's a loyal employee, so he decides that they can take the hit and he'll take some time off and HE AND EDDIE ARE GOING FISHING

And Eddie's like, great, that's great, glad you want to bond, BUT. No can do. Because (and this part he does not tell Wayne), he finally got Steve to agree to go on a date with him (and by "finally got him to agree" I mean "he finally fucking asked," because it's not like Steve would've said no - at least not since going from being kind of a popular idiot to a much more down-to-earth guy in the last year or so). And he can't miss that. But Wayne is adamant. So Eddie's finally like, I promised my friend Steve that I'd spend time with him this summer. And Wayne's like, he can spend time with his family this summer. And Eddie tells him, no, actually, he can't, because his parents are dicks and are going to be gone all summer. And he'll be alone 🥺 ALL ALONE, WAYNE. THE WHOLE SUMMER

And, like, Wayne's not thrilled, but this is one of those soft, caring little pieces of Eddie he's been worried about losing so he's like, "Okay, invite your friend Steve along, then." And Eddie's brain does the record scratch thing, because this was not what he was angling for. He would not be OPPOSED to going on a road trip with Steve, but not one chaperoned by his uncle?? But now he's penned in. He can't back out or Wayne will suspect something is up. So he goes and talks to Steve, saying that Wayne sprung this trip on him, he doesn't want to miss their date, but Wayne said Steve could come along, yaaay...? Except he assumes a (formerly) Cool, (currently) Rich guy like Steve won't want to go on just a fishing trip, so he spins up some story about how they're actually going to some big concert (which actually happens to be taking place very near to their actual fishing destination). Eddie knows this is An Incredibly Stupid Idea, but he thinks maybe he can swing it. Also the words kinda came out before he could really think about them

Of course, he didn't need to lie to Steve because a) Steve would probably follow him anywhere anyway at this point, and b) the boy would be fucking thrilled to go on a family bonding road trip. He would eat that shit up. He's never been fishing before. It sounds kind of terrible, but in a good way

So now Eddie's in a pickle, but it all works out. Bonding shenanigans and brief romantic moments that are accidentally crashed by Wayne and some actual fishing and they also get to see the concert and they all end up closer for the trip etc. etc.

#yes the emoji was necessary #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote

172 notes · View notes

wendichester · 2 days ago

Note

omg this is by far my favorite acc! Could u do a part 2 of take one,forever? Set in the future when they’re married. Reader left the show in the early seasons but came back again towards the end.

But shes now married to Jensen. And they really act like those fun married couples. Maybe they even bring they’re kids on set sometimes ?

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ take one, forever²,

summary. you were once the star of the tvshow supernatural, alongside jared and jensen. eventually, you quit the show but you'll come to find out that a decade later, no much has changed.

pairing. jensen ackles x actress!reader genre. extra fluff!!

wordcount. 681

notes / warnings. oh, to be jensen's wife 🤭 thank you for the request sweets!

ᯓ★ read part 1

Years later, the forest's still freezing.

You’d think they’d have figured out how to warm up a damn set by now, but no—Vancouver’s still doing its icy, pine-scented thing. Only difference?

Now you’ve got his jacket and his ring.

“Careful,” Jensen calls from across the clearing, “you’re about to bust your ass on that moss.”

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

He laughs—deep, warm, easy. That laugh you’ve known for over a decade now. “Promises, promises.”

You flip him off, and he winks back like the absolute menace he is.

They talked you into coming back for the final season—“full circle,” they’d said. “Nostalgia,” they said. Really, it was just Jensen, smirking over his coffee one morning and going:

“C’mon, babe. Just one more run. For old time’s sake. Plus, the kids’ll love seeing Mom on screen again. We can make it a family adventure.”

And like always—like always—you’d caved.

So now you’re here. On the same damn show you started all those years ago. Same woods. Same demons. Only now, there’s a wedding band on your finger and a pair of tiny boots sitting by the craft services table, covered in mud and jelly donut glaze.

“Mom!” comes a squeaky voice from behind you.

Speak of the devil.

You turn just in time to see your youngest barreling toward you, arms outstretched like a missile of pure, joyful chaos.

“Hey,” you laugh, bending to catch her. “What happened to staying with Daddy?”

“She wanted gummy bears,” Jensen answers, jogging over with your son balanced on his hip and a juice pouch between his teeth. “And apparently, that was more important than, you know, listening to instructions.”

“She’s got your stubborn streak,” you tease.

Jensen huffs, shifting the weight of your son, who’s now trying to unzip his coat with sticky fingers. “She’s got your everything, babe. I’m just along for the ride.”

You brush a kiss to her forehead, holding her close while she babbles about a giant fake demon head she saw near the props truck.

Jensen watches you the whole time—fond, smug, like he still can’t believe this is real. Like he’s still falling for you even with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and applesauce on his hoodie.

“Y’know,” he says casually, “you in flannel again is doing things to me.”

You arch a brow. “Jensen.”

“What? I’m just saying. It’s nostalgic. Sentimental. Romantic.”

“It’s sticky,” you deadpan, pointing to a spot on your sleeve where your daughter’s wiped her face. “And covered in god-knows-what.”

“Still hot.”

You laugh, trying to swat him, but he leans in and steals a kiss anyway—quick and warm, just enough to make your heart flutter. Ten years in, and the man still kisses you like it’s the first time.

“Okay, people!” the AD shouts. “Places for rehearsal!”

“Duty calls,” you sigh, passing your daughter off to Jensen and smoothing your hair as best you can.

“You got this,” he says, squeezing your hand before he steps back. “Go remind them who the real badass of this show is.”

You flash him a grin, cheeks flushed, heart full. “Try not to get upstaged by a toddler while I’m gone.”

“She already owns me. It’s over.”

As you walk toward set, flannel flapping behind you, you hear Jensen whisper something to the kids. Then a tiny voice calls out:

“Go, Mom! Kick the monster’s butt!”

You look back—and there they are. Your whole world, waving at you with gummy-sticky fingers and juice-stained smiles.

God, how did this all happen?

How did freezing woods and flirty banter become marriage and two wild kids and a love story still unfolding?

You don’t know.

But as you step back in front of the camera, same forest, same show, same smirk from across the set—you know one thing for sure:

You’d do it all over again.

Even the Wendigo.

Maybe.

If there’s coffee.

And if Jensen promises to keep looking at you like that—like you’re still the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fic #jackles #.docx #.req

144 notes · View notes

quandaledlnglepink · 2 days ago

Note

hi hi! I really really REALLY love your fics smm, esp the Kaiser ones oh lord they are absolutely amazing😍😍

Can I request more Kaiser fics where the reader is shy and way too nice, it can be any plot I really don't mind anything!!

(also can the fics have smut..🙏)

𝜗𝜚 hi hi!!! thank you sm for loving my fics aaaa i tried to incorperate reader being nice but i think i went a little overboard with her shyness lol

⸻ ミヒャエル・カイザ MICHEAL KAISER.

𝜗𝜚 ̟˖ ࣪ synopsis; reader goes to a party and ditched by her friends and kaiser approaches her. heavy making out, oral sex (fem receiving), reader is fem, kaiser smokes, reader is a bit tipsy, mention of drinking and alcohol. w.c; 1.5k.

you don't like parties.

you don't enjoy the flips your stomach does on the journey there, or the smell of sweat and alcohol wafting through the air, or the weird guys who side step you with their hands on your hips instead of just politely asking you to move.

your friends had parted their separate ways, finding their own spaces to mingle with.

except...you hadn't found that space yet.

and you were way too nice to tell them not to leave you like a stumbling fawn, alone and out of place in some random house party where you didn’t know anyone.

you stood stiffly tucked away in the corner of the room, sporting a red solo cup and zoning out on the bundle of people dancing to the music. you exhaled thoughtfully through your nose, eyes flickering down to the liquid drug in your cup, swirling it around as you pondered whether or not to just call an uber home.

you smelled him before you saw him. an intertwined mix of sandalwood and lemon that make your head lift, only to be met with a handsome stranger.

he was drop-dead gorgeous in a pretty, boyish player way–a man that would have girls idolatrously fawning. His choppy blonde hair and dipped blue ends was a hairstyle you think only he could pull off, almost like a male peacock. his cobalt eyes sharp, softened by his light lashes and boldened by his red eyeliner.

he looked familiar, but you don't linger on it.

your eyes are then attracted by his full tattoo sleeve, and his lips curve in what you take as amusement.

"you like it, hübsches mädchen?" he spoke over the music, his tone was cocky, as if he knew what you were thinking. your stomach fluttered hearing the slight accent and the switch in language, coming to the conclusion he was german.

"oh–yeah, i think it looks cool, looks like it hurt like a bitch though." you managed to say without stuttering, saying whatever came to mind then your usual 'think before you say' method. clearly you didn't make a fool of yourself though, because he laughs, and you soak it in like a sponge.

"only a little." he teases as his eyes observe your long sleeved mini dress and nervously pretty face. "anyway, why are you alone? did you come all by yourself?"

it was at this point the music had gotten louder and the crowd rowdier. "i came here with–"

you cut yourself off as he gestures with two fingers to come closer, his body leaning so close you could feel his body heat. your lips almost ghost his ear with how close he had purposely gotten. you felt heat pool in your lower belly, but you purposely push it away as your voice raises a little louder. "i–i came here with friends, but they've just gone off to do their own thing."

he silently studied the surrounding area as he listened to your words before nodding, pulling back every so slightly. "i see, let's go somewhere quieter, hm?"

he doesn't give you a second to respond before he gently incases your wrist, pulling you away and past bodies, into a seemingly empty corridor, the once loud music and chatter muffled by the layers of walls.

"who are you with?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation going as you both settle on opposite ends of the wall.

"my teammates," he mused, crossing his arms, "they wanted to celebrate our match victory."

"ah," you nodded, eyes wandering to the open door that led to the backyard. "so you play–"

"–soccer."

“–right. soccer."

your lips twitch a little, as if they wanted to smile. you sigh slowly, still staring out back, feeling a bit overheated from the atmosphere inside.

he leaned off the wall, presumably picking up the memo, before you began to walk, hearing his footsteps close behind. you find an empty couch, small enough to fit two people. and before you knew it, he sat right beside you, his thigh smushing against yours. his legs wide open as he laid back comfortably, an air of intimidating confidence radiating off him. For a split second, your attention is drawn to the two people play fighting in front of you before both falling into the pool, loud splashing and 'ooo's' filling the air.

there's a 'flick' sound next to you, and your ears perk up.

you've never seen someone look so angelic smoking what your mom used to call a, 'cancer stick'. his features painted a hue of soft orange light, the smell of tobacco hitting your senses.

he holds out a cigarette box in your direction, but you shake your head, mumbling about how you don't smoke.

"good," he utters, clearly pleased by your response. "don't start either, wouldn't want a pretty girl like you damaging her lungs."

your eyes go wide like saucers, your chest tightening like at his blunt flirting . "you think i'm pretty?"

you zero in on his luscious lips as they blow out some smoke, before his head tilts towards you, his lashes lowered, his sensual stare making your heart race.

"i'm not a liar, hübsch."

"yeah..." you say, your voice coming out more breathy than intended. you assume it's because of the heavy drink you had unknowingly finished a few minutes ago that had made you bold enough to say, "do you kiss pretty girls too?"

"mhm."

you bite your glossy lip at his casual response, trying to keep a cheesy smile at bay.

"want me to show you?" he suddenly says, his eyes dropping to your lips and back up to meet your’s, and it's like your world had tilted upside down. your heart was beating so hard at this point you were sure it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. your clammy hands gripped the end of your dress tightly.

you nodded.

his lips then crashed onto yours, making you gasp as your teeth almost knocked together. his free hand cupping the space between your head and neck, deepening the kiss. it was slow yet ravaging, as if he was attempting to claim your mouth and everything inside it. he tasted like alcohol, mint, tobacco and sin. you let his eager tongue part your lips, a loud moan drawing from them as you felt something cold on your tongue.

the hot bastard had a tongue piercing. you could hardly believe this attractive stranger was making out with you and you didn't even know his name yet.

"name," you rasped breathlessly when you both finally parted an inch, a shared saliva string between you. 'what's your name?"

"michael," he smirks against your lips. "michael kaiser." he murmurs before his lips collide with yours again, his rough fingers grasping the nape of your neck.

݁ ౨ৎ ݁

your friend's vision of you being the 'innocent friend' would crumble if they saw your position right now.

you're glad you now know having someone's mouth on your cunt could be this euphoric, otherwise you would have put off having a guy go down on you. this overwhelming sensation directed sharply on your clit had electric heat humming in your core. your manicured nails slicking his stray hairs back as they hid his dilated pupils, scratching his scalp just enough to start stinging.

you were laying on a bed in some random guest room upstairs, way too tipsy to bother muffling any needy sounds.

another obscene sound of him sucking your clit had you whimpering his name, in response, his blunt nails only pressing harder into your trembling thighs. the two thick digits pumping inside you deliberately curling, hitting that sweet gummy spot inside you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your kitten heels digging harshly into his back.

your walls clench around his fingers as you feel your climax building, your eyes fluttering closed, your eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

"hnghh i'm gonna f–fucking hah, i'm gonna fucking cum–" you whined pathetically, your thighs almost squeezing his head to suffocation. shockwaves of heat rippled up your spine as his tongue licked a fat stripe up your cunt, and you didn't hear him growling at you to cum before your body was already falling over the edge. your ears ring as your legs twitch and convulse terribly, feeling more wet than ever.

the sheets underneath you and the bottom half of his face is soaked in your slick, and you would've been embarrassed if your mind wasn't so fucked out.

you melt into the bed almost immediately, your chest heaving from exhaustion. your head is still swimming, too lost in your own glowing aftermath to feel the bed dip under his weight as he climbs on top of you. he doesn't wait a second before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to taste yourself on his swollen lips.

with the way he's hungrily looking at you, you're sure it's not over.

yet your body shivers in excitement.

Maybe you don’t hate parties.

#𝝑℘ ⟡ ݁. xoxoask #𝝑℘ ⟡ ݁. glossysin #bllk #blue lock #michael kaiser #micheal kaiser x reader #bllk michael kaiser #micheal kaiser #kaiser michael #bllk kaiser #blue lock kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you

125 notes · View notes