#but I don’t think it’s gonna start to become a regular thing

[gooseboy42]

(Part 1)

I play with the hem of my tight shirt, anxiously sitting in the doctor’s office’s waiting room. It’s been a few years since I’ve been to the doctor. I know I should go at least once a year, but it’s such a hassle and doctors make me nervous. Especially with all the weight I’ve gained recently… I know I’m gonna get lectured on taking care of myself better. Exercising more, and dieting, but I really don’t want to do any of those things.

“Wren Johnson? We’re ready for you.” A nurse calls into the waiting room from a nearby door.

“Uh, coming!” I say shakily as I haul myself out of the chair and walk towards the door. I’m taken to a room and the nurse closes this door for privacy before continuing.

“So, what brings you in today?” She says as she looks at a clipboard.

“Oh, uh, just a regular checkup?” I laugh nervously.

“Alright then, let’s get your vitals and then I’ll go get the doctor.”

My blood pressure and pulse are normal, but then it’s time for the dreaded scale. I suck in my gut and step on, as if that’ll make a difference. I watch as the scale flickers before landing on a number and staying there. 303lbs. Shit, I didn’t think I had passed the 300lbs mark, last I had checked I was still clinging to 292lbs. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised with my eating habits…

“That’s everything!” The nurse says cheerily, snapping me out of my shock. “I’ll go grab the doctor.”

She leaves the room and the door closes. I sit down in the chair and stare at myself, I’m huge. Maybe I could stand to lose some weight, I’m getting so out of breath constantly and walking is becoming a chore-

*knock knock knock*

“Hi there! Thank you for waiting,” the doctor says as she walks in the room. “I’m doctor Vivian Brooks. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, I um, I just haven’t seen a doctor in a while and I figured I should get checked out. And also…” I trail off, getting too embarrassed to finish my sentence.

“It’s alright,” Doctor Brooks smiles at me. “This is a judgement free space, I’m just here to help.”

“Alright, I guess I just realized I could probably use some help losing some weight.”

“I see, I can help with that. We’ll make sure to get you on an exercise routine, a good diet, and I have some medications we could try. But let’s start with the physical examination, just to see where you are right now.”

I nod and stand up, after which she starts to examine me. After she does what I’d expect a doctor to do, Doctor Brooks goes to a nearby cupboard and grabs a measuring tape.

“Last thing I need to do is just take some measurements!”

“Oh, are you sure? I’ve never heard of that before?” I say nervously.

“Of course, it’s part of our new diet regiment. I know what I’m doing, I promise.” She says and smiles warmly at me.

Something about the look in her eyes, it’s captivating… I have to trust her, it’s a compulsion. I let her measure me. My belly is at 57”, and my thighs and arms are equally impressive. By the end of the measuring I’m starting to breathe a bit heavy from standing and moving around so much. Doctor Brooks gives me a strict diet and exercise plan, as well as sends in a couple prescriptions for me. None of it seems like a traditional weight loss plan… but I’m not the doctor here, and something about her… I need to do what she wants. I have to make her pleased. So I decide to follow that plan as strictly as possible.

3 month follow up

I’m sitting in the waiting room again, this time much less anxious. Those pills Doctor Brooks prescribed sure do wonders. My stomach rumbles, begging for food. It’s been a whole 3 hours since I’ve eaten, which is not normal for me now. I’m supposed to snack on something at least once every two hours, something about “steadying my metabolism”? It doesn’t really make sense but-

“Wren Johnson?”

My name is called so I pry myself out of the chair and head towards the door. The walk feels a lot harder than last time for some reason.

I enter the room and we do the same routine. Other vitals, and then weight. I step on the scale and stare blankly at the number as it flashes, 331lbs. How? I was following the plan exactly!

“Perfect,” the nurse smiles as she heads for the door. “Doctor Brooks will be in shortly.”

She leaves and I sit down, worried about what Doctor Brooks will say. I just wanted to make her proud.

*knock knock knock*

Doctor Brooks enters.

“Hi there Wren! I heard you’ve made excellent progress.”

“What? But I gained-“ I start to say, but she cuts me off.

“Exactly! You gotta gain some if you want to loose more, right?”

I’m about to argue how that makes no sense when I make eye contact with her. Her eyes are so pretty, and there’s something in them I can’t quite name, but it makes me feel good. It makes me want more. I realize I was starting to play with my belly without thinking.

“That’s a good pig” she says as she grabs my belly from behind, and I can’t help but moan. Somewhere in my brain a voice is screaming about how unethical this is, but it is quickly drowned out by how good it feels.

“I think we’ll up the meds and double your food intake, how does that sound, hog?” Doctor Brooks says, and I can only nod dumbly in response. “Good hog, you’re gonna grow so big for me,” she smiles wickedly.

Something in my brain is different, maybe it’s just that this feels so good, or maybe something is chemically altered in my brain, but I now have one goal. Grow as fat as Doctor Brooks wants me.

[slytherinshua]

people need to stop celebrating the fact that scoups is exempt from military enlistment. people have started to only focus on the fact that he’s not going and ignore the fact that he had a serious injury which is why he’s exempt. real carats who actually cared about their artist’s health would much rather have the standard 1.5-2 year hiatus for military and a completely healthy artist than an injured one not going.

[rosesradio]

.

[angelplummie]

ur art baby trapping fic is all i can think abt btw

but but but. what if after the first time it becomes a regular occurrence, and after the first few times, when he buries himself as deep as his long cock can go inside you and cums so hard he loses vision, you think maybe it’s time to be safe again. you’ve taken a few pregnancy tests, and it’s seeming like you’re getting away with the risky sex, but the risk is not worth the reward.

you saunter into the kitchen one morning, were art reads the news on his laptop, sipping a black tea. what a serious man you were dating. your arms snake around his neck loosely, and you kiss this top of his blonde head.

“i’m gonna order some more birth control. what’s that gynos number again? i know i wrote it down somewhere but i can’t remember.”

art stilled. he placed the mug squarely on a coaster.

“you don’t need that.”

he reached up to hold your forearm gently, to ghost the pad of his thumb against your soft skin.

“well, i do a little bit. we’ve been lucky, but if we keep going raw we might be in trouble. then you’ll be stuck with me forever.”

he hummed, stomach flipping. you were so close to figuring him out.

“that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“what?”

he kissed the peach fuzz of your arm.

“i’d like being stuck with you.”

you didn’t let go, but you didn’t move either.

“are you saying you hope i get pregnant?”

“no,” he lied softly,”but if you did, that would also make me happy. wouldn’t it make you happy?”

you inhaled, shocked.

“i guess. i don’t- i don’t know how i would feel. i haven’t given it much thought. have you?”

he moved to get up, and you stepped back, unfurling yourself from him.

the chair scraped against the floor, and you watched arts feet as he moved around it to get back to you. he turned to face you, beautiful face set in a knowing, subtle smile. he took your face in his long hands, one on either side of your jaw.

“i’ve thought about a future with you and being with you forever, and about having a baby with you.”

your lips parted slightly, that rosy feeling cresting your cheeks and nose.

“i love you very much. i want you very much. is it that strange to think i might want to start a family with you?”

a cloudy feeling, humid and twinkly, filled your head. you drew in breath, but before you could make any kind of reply he kissed gently on your forehead, which nullified the part of your brain that might have any problem with what art was saying ever.

“why is that strange baby?”

“it’s not strange.”

“that’s right.”

and he pulls you into his chest. your arms remain tucked to you, and he wraps himself around you. tenderly his chin rests on your hair, and your breath in his smell. art was so clean, and so smart and kind. and he loved you. he wanted to be with you. you were so lucky.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

and that night, when he got you on top of him, cock buried deep in your tiny cunt, he made you feel even luckier. you were so wet it spilled down his shaft that split you open, down to his round full balls. his hands were clamped like shackles around your hips, preventing you from moving.

your hands splayed on his perky chest, you frowned in an effort to not fall apart, and he watched you with unbridled glee. you try to bounce, and your tits shake, but he holds you in place, all your leg muscles no match for the few at work in his arms. he watches as your titties settle still, his soft little angel.

“art please,” you dig your nails into his pillowy chest, but he doesn’t even flinch as you turn his pale skin pink.

“yes please,” you whisper. he smiles, thinly veiling his glee.

“you wanna ride me?”

your pussy clenches. even bellow you, he’s so far above. so much wiser and calmer.

“i’ll let you. on one condition.”

his fingers dug into your love handles, leaving white marks on your side. he readjusted himself, burying his cock inside your further, making you huff.

“tell me,” your cunt was so tight he had to pause as it squeezed him,” that you want me to get you pregnant. say the words.”

you blinked, trying to direct any of your attention away from the pseudo-pain of having him inside you still. his demanding tone alone makes your cunt throb, and wet his fat cock even more.

“what?”

“tell me you want me to cum inside you raw.”

your head tips back, and you swallow.

“i want you,” you say, thoughtless, desperate, so cock hungry it makes arts chest heave under your talons,” to cum inside me raw. get me pregnant please. please art, just fuck me.”

art grunted, and squeezed your hips even harder.

“yeah? you want that?”

and he drew you up on his dick, biting his lip hard enough to leave indents, to split skin.

he guided you up, so that only his pink tip stayed hooked inside your tight pussy hole.

yeah was the only word you could form, and you said it over and over like it was his name, like it was a prayer.

“ok baby. whatever you want.”

and he drove himself into you, holding you above him like an oversized fleshlight. you sounded like a fleshlight too, wet and soft and malleable to him. a wet schlick permeated the room with every thrust as he held you, suspended in the air, and fucked you like you weighed nothing.

your grip dragged up to his forearm, leaving a pink trail in your wake, jaw tipping open.

“art, art, art.”

as he moves sharply in and out, pounding your pussy, you legs turn to jelly, and you feel the distinct urge to writhe. you resist, and instead jerk with his every movement, moaning pathetically.

“you’re so tight. god,” he spits through gritted teeth. it’s like he’s angry at you, and he bullies your little cunt like he hates you. but he doesn’t hate you, he loves you very much. he can’t believe your his, he can’t believe you want to be his forever. he will make you happy. he will. you just have to give him a child.

his v-line and his hips crash into the softness of your thighs and make loud slaps. he grunts as he feels the tip split you open time and time again. you feel it, a deep thud inside you every time he presses down, and you whine absently.

“art, hold me.”

“what?”

“hold me.”

immediately, he rises from his lying position and props himself up on his head board, yanking you to him again. and then you were face to face, with his tousled blonde hair and blue, honest eyes, and his beautiful face. just as you asked, he held you. two strong arms encircled you waist, pushing your tits up on his chest.

digging his heels into the bed, he began pumping, buried so deep that he could only work the last increments of his cock into you. your eyes are misty, are big and desperate. your open mouth

"you ok?"

"yeah. I love you."

"mm."

and he kissed you again, tongue pawing at the inside of your mouth, like a kitten at a ball of yarn. he moaned rhymically, with every beat of your little heart. every moment you lived as his was total pleasure. you inched your hips forwards and back, against the force of his thrusts and kissed the side of his mouth, his cheek, his neck.

“you’re so beautiful,” he huffs,”you’re so pretty. i’m gonna get you pregnant.”

“please.”

“yeah, i know you want that.”

“yeah, i want it.”

you fuck yourself on him, and he kisses you again, harder, messier, noses smushing and tongues moving against each other.

“oh,” he says, and you know he’s close. so you say him what he wants to hear. what you know he’s wanted to hear this whole time. your clit presses against his pelvis, and as you tip over the edge you give him what he needs, like a good girl. friend. a good girlfriend.

“daddy, daddy.”

and it’s over. his grip tightens, pressing you harder against him so you can’t move at all in his lap. his hips stutter, and he lets out a grunting, groaning whine into your cheek, into your ear.

his balls tighten and twitch, and a fat load spurts inside you, clinging to your cervix and dribbling out of your spasming hole.

“fuck, god.”

one arms stays around your back, the other reaches up to your neck, to caress the skin and reach up into your hair. to stroke your jaw with his thumb as you both pant, slack jawed and satisfied.

“fuck.”

��art?”

“yeah?”

“i bet that did it. i bet i’m pregnant.”

“i bet you are. are you scared?”

you looked at each other and smiled, wide and goofy, forehead to forehead.

“no. are you? i really mean it, you’re never getting rid of me now.”

“darn.”

[hoshifighting]

svt and pussy slapping 😭😭😢😢😢😞😞😥😭😖😖😓😭😭😭😭😭😭😢😢😢😢😢😖😥😖😥😖😞

(please please please ignore if uncomfortable)

seventeen slapping your pussy

WARNINGS: pussy slap, cum, dick slap mentioned, face slap mentioned.

seungcheol would do it unconsciously, maybe during the heat of the moment. the slight sting on your clit would catch you off guard, making you gasp and arch your back. “shit, did i hurt you?” he’d ask, concern flashing in his eyes. but when you moan and your hips buck up, he gets the hint.

jeonghan would do it for the first time when you slapped his face. it was a reflex, but it left him stunned for a second. “oh, you’re gonna get it now,” he’d say, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. without warning, he’d slap your pussy, the sharp sensation making you both gasp. “wasn’t expecting that, huh?” he’d tease, and it quickly becomes a new habit.

joshua would be so uncertain at first. “are you sure?” he’d ask, looking almost concerned. “i mean, if someone slapped my dick, i don’t think i’d like it.” but when you beg for it, his reluctance starts to wane. he gives a slight slap, barely more than a tap, but it’s enough to make you gasp. the surprise and pleasure in your eyes embolden him a bit. “like that?” he asks, his voice low and uncertain. you nod, encouraging him to continue, and he gives another, slightly firmer slap, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sees your reaction.

jun would frown in confusion the first time you asked him to do it. “like this?” he’d ask, giving a tentative slap. the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you nod, breathless. he watches your face closely, gauging your reaction. “does it feel good?” he’d ask, his curiosity piqued. each slap after that is more confident, and he quickly learns just how much you enjoy it.

soonyoung would accidentally slap your belly while trying to spank you. “oops,” he’d laugh, immediately embarrassed. but when he sees the way your eyes light up, he grins. “guess i hit the wrong spot,” he jokes, before aiming lower and landing a slap right on your clit. the sting makes you gasp, and he chuckles at the sound. “there we go,”

wonwoo would do it during your first time together, maybe without even realizing it. the unexpected slap on your pussy makes you squirt, and he pauses, stunned. “didn’t know you could do that,” he’d say, a smirk on his lips. it becomes a regular thing for you, the rougher side of your intimacy something you both crave. he’d always follow up the slap with a deep thrust, loving the way your body reacts, the way you tremble and moan under his touch.

jihoon would be startled when you asked him. “slap it?” he’d repeat, looking at you confused through the mirror. but the moment he does it, the sharp sound echoing in the room, your reaction is immediate. you squirm, a desperate moan escaping your lips. “oh.” his fingers start to move faster, slapping your clit repeatedly. your moans grow louder, and his lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “looks like i found a sweet spot,” he’d tease, his confidence growing with each slap.

minghao would use it as a form of punishment. when you moan too loud or can’t stop squirming, especially in public places, he’d give you a sharp slap on your pussy. “keep quiet,” he’d whisper, his voice low and commanding. the sudden sting makes you bite your lip, trying to hold back your sounds. each slap feels like a reprimand, but the way his eyes darken with desire lets you know he enjoys it just as much as you do. “good girl,”

mingyu would do it just to see your pussy puffy and flushed, loving the sight before diving in to eat you out. he loves the contrast of the reddened skin and your arousal, the way it makes you look so ready for him. “so pretty,” he’d murmur before giving you a soft slap, then another. his eyes would sparkle with amusement and lust as you gasp. he’d continue, each slap followed by his tongue lapping at you, enjoying the way you react to every touch.

seokmin is a slapper, through and through. he’s slapped your face, your tits, your ass, your thighs, your back. and if you ask him to, idk, slap your earlobe, for him is an in. he was just waiting for you to ask him to slap your pussy because he wasn’t sure if you’d like it. when you finally do, he grins. “finally,” he’d chuckle before delivering a sharp slap. the sting makes you gasp, and he watches your reaction closely.

seungkwan would do it playfully, but your surprised reaction would make him pause. in reflex, you’d slap his cock back, both of you frozen in shock for a moment. “didn’t expect that,” he’d laugh, the situation too funny to be serious. but the way your body reacts, the flush spreading across your skin, it’s something new and exciting for both of you. “want me to do it again?

vernon would give harsh slaps that make your sight go white. the sound echoes in the room, each slap sharp and deliberate. “you like that?” he’d ask, his voice low and rough. you can only moan in response. he’d continue, each slap harder than the last, pushing you to the edge. “such a good girl,” he’d murmur, you like pain + pleasure, and he knows exactly how to play with it.

chan would give those light, fast slaps, just enough to stimulate your clit and make you cream. his hand and your pussy would end up covered in your slick, lines of cum connecting each slap. “feels good, huh?” he’d tease, a cocky grin on his face. he loves the way you react, the way your body flinch into his touch. “look at you, all wet and ready,”

[urdreamydoodles]

How about Scott, Logan, Hank, Jean, Orroro, Erik, Colussus, Emma, gambit x reader where they kind of forget to take care of themselves. Like the reader will forget to do basic survival things ( eating, sleeping, drinking water, ect) and just generally overworking themselves

ps. love your content

X-Men x Reader

You forget to take care of yourself

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Emma Frost & Bobby Drake

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan isn’t the type to hover, but he notices things others miss. He’s sharp enough to pick up on your exhaustion, the way your hands tremble slightly when you’re holding your coffee mug or how you’ve been skipping meals. At first, he doesn’t say much, figuring you’re just busy, but when it becomes a pattern, his concern kicks in.

- He corners you one evening when you’re buried in work, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or do I have to guess?” When you brush him off with a tired smile, he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “You forgettin’ you’re not made o’ adamantium? You’re gonna keel over if you keep this up.”

- Logan doesn’t let it slide. The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon. He’s standing in the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the plate he’s made for you. “Eat. And don’t even think about arguin’.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.

- Despite his rough edges, Logan’s care is genuine. He starts keeping a closer eye on you, making sure you’re eating regular meals and getting enough sleep. He even drags you outside for fresh air, taking you on walks or insisting you join him for a sparring session. “Sweat it out, darlin’. Clears the head.”

- When you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, his reaction surprises you. He pulls you into a tight hug, his voice soft as he says, “You don’t gotta do it all alone. I’m here, y’know.” There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes you believe him.

- Logan becomes your rock, the person who grounds you when you’re spiraling. His quiet, steadfast support makes all the difference, and you know he’ll always have your back, even when you forget to take care of yourself.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy is quick to notice when you start slipping on self-care. He may come off as laid-back, but his sharp eyes catch every little detail—the skipped meals, the heavy bags under your eyes, the way your energy dwindles. At first, he tries to coax you back into a routine with his usual charm.

- “Chérie, y’know you can’t live on caffeine alone, oui?” he teases, placing a plate of food in front of you during a late-night work session. When you wave him off with a distracted “later,” his smile falters, but he doesn’t push—yet.

- The breaking point comes when he finds you passed out at your desk, papers scattered everywhere. Panic flashes in his eyes as he shakes you awake, his voice tight with worry. “Mon amour, this ain’t okay. You scarin’ me.” Seeing the genuine concern on his face makes you realize how far you’ve pushed yourself.

- From that moment, Remy takes it upon himself to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. He starts showing up with your favorite snacks, pulling you away from work for impromptu dance breaks, and insisting you take naps—sometimes dragging you to the couch himself.

- One evening, after you confess how overwhelmed you’ve been feeling, he cups your face in his hands, his red-on-black eyes soft with understanding. “You ain’t gotta do it all, cher. Let me help, yeah? We a team.” His voice is so full of love that you can’t help but nod.

- Remy becomes your biggest cheerleader, always finding ways to make you smile and reminding you to prioritize yourself. His unwavering support and playful affection make it impossible not to feel cared for, and you know he’ll always be there to lift you up when you falter.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt notices something’s wrong when you start missing your usual cheerful banter. Your exhaustion doesn’t escape him, and it worries him to see the spark in your eyes dim. He approaches you gently, his tail swishing with concern as he offers a soft, “Liebchen, you seem tired. Are you all right?”

- When you brush off his concern, Kurt doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention. He brings you tea when you’re working late, gently encouraging you to take breaks. When he sees you skipping meals, he tries to tempt you with your favorite dishes, his smile warm and inviting.

- One day, he finds you asleep in the library, slumped over a pile of books. His heart aches as he watches you, realizing how much you’ve been neglecting yourself. He teleports you to the couch, covering you with a blanket before sitting beside you, determined to be there when you wake up.

- When you finally open up about feeling overwhelmed, Kurt listens intently, his golden eyes full of empathy. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly, taking your hand in his. “I know how it feels to carry too much, but you mustn’t forget to care for yourself. You are precious, mein Schatz.”

- From then on, Kurt makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. He leaves little notes of encouragement around the house, surprises you with flowers, and insists on taking you out for relaxing strolls or quiet nights under the stars.

- His unwavering kindness and quiet strength help you find balance again. With Kurt by your side, you feel lighter, knowing that his love and support will always be a safe haven when the world feels too heavy.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is the first to notice when you start overworking yourself. His leadership instincts kick in, and he keeps a watchful eye on you, though he tries not to overstep. At first, he offers subtle reminders: “Don’t forget to eat,” or “You should get some rest.” But when it becomes clear you’re ignoring him, he grows more direct.

- One night, he finds you still at your desk, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. “This isn’t sustainable,” he says, his voice firm but laced with concern. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself like this.” His seriousness makes it hard to argue, but you wave him off, insisting you’re fine.

- The breaking point comes when you collapse during a training session. Scott rushes to your side, panic flashing across his usually composed face. “You’re not fine,” he says, his voice tight with worry. “You need to take care of yourself. You can’t keep doing this.” His frustration is evident, but so is his love.

- After that, Scott takes a more proactive approach. He adjusts your schedule, ensuring you have time to rest and recharge. He checks in with you regularly, bringing you meals and reminding you to hydrate. Though his methods can feel a bit overbearing, his intentions are always rooted in care.

- One evening, as you sit together on the couch, you finally admit how overwhelmed you’ve been. Scott pulls you into his arms, his hold steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly. “We’re a team, and I’m here for you. Always.” His sincerity brings tears to your eyes, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders.

- Scott’s support becomes a constant in your life, his quiet strength and unwavering dedication helping you find balance again. With him by your side, you feel like you can take on anything, knowing he’ll always be there to catch you when you stumble.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean notices your neglect almost instantly. Her psychic connection to you allows her to sense the subtle shifts in your emotions—the way your mind feels frazzled and your energy drained. She approaches you gently, her green eyes filled with concern as she asks, “Have you eaten today?” When you shake your head and brush her off, she doesn’t push, but you can tell she’s not satisfied.

- She starts taking small steps to ensure you’re cared for. She’ll float a sandwich or a glass of water to your desk while you’re working, her telekinesis a quiet reminder of her presence. When she sees you avoiding sleep, she’ll softly suggest turning in early, sometimes even staying awake with you to keep you company.

- One evening, Jean finds you in the kitchen staring blankly at an empty coffee cup. Her worry reaches a breaking point. “This isn’t just about being busy,” she says, placing her hand over yours. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I won’t let you burn out.” There’s no judgment in her voice, only love and determination.

- When you finally break down, admitting you’ve been overwhelmed and feel like you’re failing at everything, Jean pulls you into a warm embrace. Her psychic presence wraps around you like a soft blanket, calming your racing thoughts. “You’re not alone in this,” she murmurs. “Let me help carry the weight. That’s what love is for.”

- Jean starts creating little rituals to help you take care of yourself. She insists on morning coffee together, quiet evening walks, and regular check-ins where you both share your thoughts and feelings. Her calm, nurturing nature makes you feel safe, like you can breathe again.

- With her help, you begin to find balance. Jean’s love is steadfast and comforting, a reminder that you don’t have to face life’s challenges on your own. Her psychic connection becomes a lifeline, silently encouraging you to take care of yourself as she quietly supports you every step of the way.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo notices something is wrong when your usually vibrant energy starts to dim. She’s intuitive and observant, picking up on the smallest signs—the slump in your shoulders, the hollow sound of your laughter. She approaches you one evening, her calm voice breaking the silence: “You’ve been neglecting yourself, haven’t you?”

- When you try to deny it, Ororo gives you a knowing look, her piercing blue eyes full of quiet authority. “You can’t lie to me, love. I see the storm you’re carrying inside you.” Her words are gentle but firm, and she begins to subtly guide you toward self-care without overwhelming you.

- One night, Ororo invites you to join her in the greenhouse. She hands you a watering can and encourages you to tend to the plants with her. As you work side by side, she talks softly about balance and how nature thrives when it’s nurtured. “You’re just as precious as these plants,” she says, her voice full of affection.

- When you finally admit how much you’ve been struggling, Ororo takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re not weak for needing help,” she tells you. “Even the strongest storms need time to rest and rebuild.” Her words hit you deeply, and you feel a weight lifting as you share your worries with her.

- Ororo begins incorporating moments of peace into your daily routine. She takes you on walks during sunrise, leads you in meditation sessions, and teaches you how to find solace in the quiet moments. Her serene presence becomes a beacon of calm in your chaotic life.

- With Ororo by your side, you start to feel whole again. Her love is like the rain—cleansing and rejuvenating, reminding you that even in the darkest times, there is beauty and renewal waiting just around the corner.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue isn’t the most subtle when she notices you’ve been neglecting yourself. She’s direct and to the point, her Southern drawl laced with concern as she says, “Sugar, when’s the last time you ate somethin’ that wasn’t outta a vending machine?” Her bluntness is her way of showing she cares, even if it catches you off guard.

- She doesn’t let the issue slide. Rogue starts showing up with home-cooked meals, setting them in front of you with a stern look. “Don’t make me spoon-feed ya,” she jokes, though there’s an edge of seriousness in her tone. Her care comes with a healthy dose of sass, but it’s impossible not to feel loved.

- When she catches you skipping sleep to work late, Rogue plants herself on the couch beside you, her arms crossed. “If you don’t lay down and rest, I’m gonna drag you to bed myself,” she warns. Her no-nonsense attitude is oddly comforting, making you realize she’s not going anywhere.

- One night, after you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, Rogue’s demeanor softens. She pulls you into a tight hug, careful not to touch you with her bare skin. “I know what it’s like to feel like you gotta carry it all, but you don’t have to, darlin’. I’m here, and I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone.”

- Rogue starts actively looking for ways to lighten your load. She’ll take over small tasks, crack jokes to make you smile, and even pull you away from work for impromptu movie nights. Her mix of tough love and genuine affection becomes a lifeline for you.

- With Rogue in your corner, you feel stronger and more supported than ever. Her love is fierce and unwavering, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as she’s by your side.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not one to hover, but he’s perceptive enough to notice when you’ve been neglecting yourself. He watches you carefully, his piercing gaze full of unspoken concern. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he finally says one evening, his voice low and serious. “This cannot continue.”

- When you try to brush him off, Erik’s frustration shows. “Do not insult my intelligence,” he says sharply, though there’s no malice in his tone. “I know you’re struggling. Why must you insist on facing this alone?” His words cut through your defenses, but they’re rooted in a deep care for you.

- Erik begins to intervene in his own way, using his powers to remove distractions and obstacles. He’ll levitate your work away from you, placing it out of reach with a raised eyebrow. “You can finish that later,” he says firmly. “Right now, you need to rest.”

- When you finally confess how overwhelmed you’ve been, Erik’s expression softens. He steps closer, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have spent a lifetime fighting for what I believe in, but nothing is more important to me than you. Do not think for a moment that you must bear this burden alone.”

- Erik becomes a steadfast presence in your life, offering both practical support and emotional comfort. He’ll prepare meals, insist on regular breaks, and hold you close when the weight of the world feels too heavy. His love is intense and protective, a force as unyielding as the metal he commands.

- With Erik’s unwavering support, you begin to find balance again. His love is a shield against the chaos, reminding you that even the strongest among us need someone to lean on. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and whole.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank notices your habits immediately—your distracted demeanor, the hollow tone in your voice, the faint shadows under your eyes. Ever the scientist, he doesn’t bring it up outright but quietly observes. “Have you had any sustenance today?” he asks casually, his blue eyes studying you carefully. When you deflect with a vague answer, he hums knowingly but doesn’t press—yet.

- The next day, you find yourself gently cornered in the lab as Hank casually sets down a plate of food next to you. “I’m aware of your penchant for neglecting basic human needs under stress,” he says with a slight smile. “So, humor me and eat this while we talk.” His concern is masked with light humor, but you feel his genuine worry behind every word.

- One evening, after you nearly pass out from exhaustion, Hank’s patience wears thin. “Enough,” he says firmly, his normally gentle tone sharp. “You’re not a machine, and I won’t allow you to treat yourself as such.” His words hit harder than you expect, and his disappointment feels like a heavy weight.

- When you finally break down, confessing that you feel like you can’t stop or everything will fall apart, Hank pulls you into a surprisingly tender embrace. “You are not an island, my dear,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to face everything alone. Let me be your foundation when the ground feels unsteady.”

- From that day forward, Hank becomes your fiercest advocate for self-care. He insists on regular meals and sleep schedules, even developing a playful system of reminders with your favorite quotes or jokes to lighten the mood. His support feels like a lifeline, steady and comforting.

- With Hank’s love and guidance, you learn to value yourself as much as he values you. His steady presence and unwavering care remind you that balance is essential, and you’re never truly alone as long as he’s by your side.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr is gentle and observant by nature, so he notices your struggles quickly. When you skip meals or overwork yourself, his brow furrows with quiet concern. “My love,” he says softly, his Russian accent warm and soothing, “when did you last take a moment for yourself?”

- At first, he tries subtle nudges—leaving water by your desk, offering to cook meals together, suggesting walks to clear your mind. When these hints go unnoticed, Piotr decides to take a more direct approach. One evening, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down with a warm smile. “Now, we eat.”

- Piotr’s breaking point comes when he finds you passed out from exhaustion. His steel exterior reflects his internal turmoil as he carries you to bed, sitting beside you until you wake. “You push yourself too hard,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You do not need to prove anything to me—or anyone. You are enough as you are.”

- When you finally open up about feeling like you can’t afford to slow down, Piotr listens intently, his large hands gently holding yours. “I understand what it means to feel burdened,” he says. “But strength is not just enduring. It is knowing when to lean on those who love you.”

- From then on, Piotr takes it upon himself to help you find balance. He plans quiet evenings with books and art, prepares your favorite meals, and insists on taking over tasks when you’re overwhelmed. His unwavering care feels like a protective shield around you, keeping the chaos at bay.

- With Piotr’s love and steadfast support, you begin to feel whole again. His patience and kindness teach you that caring for yourself is not weakness but strength, and his presence becomes a source of peace in your life.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- Emma is not one for subtlety, so when she notices you neglecting yourself, she calls you out immediately. “Darling, when was the last time you ate something that wasn’t coffee?” she asks, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Her tone is sharp, but her concern is evident beneath the cool exterior.

- At first, she approaches the situation with her usual no-nonsense attitude, dropping off meals and reminders as if it’s part of a business transaction. “Eat this. Sleep at least six hours. Hydrate. It’s not rocket science,” she quips, but you catch the flicker of worry in her piercing blue eyes.

- One evening, when she finds you working late into the night, Emma decides enough is enough. She strides into the room, telepathically shutting down your laptop with a smirk. “You’ll thank me later,” she says, her voice softer than usual. “You’re running yourself ragged, and I won’t stand for it.”

- When you finally admit you’ve been overwhelmed, Emma’s demeanor shifts. She places a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You’re not invincible,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender. “Even diamonds need care to maintain their brilliance. You are no exception.”

- Emma takes a proactive role in helping you find balance, using her sharp intellect and connections to ease your workload. She also insists on luxurious self-care days, dragging you to spas or planning lavish evenings to remind you of your worth. Beneath her icy exterior lies a fiercely protective heart.

- With Emma’s unwavering confidence in you, you start to see yourself through her eyes—strong, capable, and deserving of care. Her love is a blend of tough love and indulgent comfort, reminding you that self-worth is as important as any task at hand.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby notices your neglect through your behavior—the way you brush off his jokes or seem too tired to engage with his usual antics. “Hey, you okay?” he asks casually, but his tone is laced with concern. When you shrug him off, he doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention.

- At first, Bobby tries to help in his own playful way, slipping snacks onto your desk or cracking jokes about needing to stage an intervention. “Don’t make me freeze your coffee until you eat something,” he teases, though his grin can’t quite hide the worry in his eyes.

- One day, when he finds you asleep at your desk, Bobby’s joking demeanor drops. He gently shakes you awake, his expression serious. “This isn’t funny anymore,” he says quietly. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you like this.”

- When you finally open up about how overwhelmed you’ve been, Bobby listens intently, his usual humor replaced with genuine care. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his hand warm on your shoulder. “I’ve got your back, no matter what. Let me help, okay?”

- Bobby becomes your biggest cheerleader, finding creative ways to make self-care fun. He’ll freeze your water bottles into cute shapes, plan impromptu dance breaks, or drag you out for ice cream dates to remind you to take a breather. His lightheartedness feels like a balm to your stress.

- With Bobby’s love and unwavering support, you begin to find joy in the small moments again. His ability to make you smile, even on the hardest days, reminds you that life is about more than just work. Together, you learn to face challenges with a little more humor and a lot more heart.

[luludeluluramblings]

AAAAHHHHH THANK YOU FOR RESPONDING. But your response to the madoka magica question got me thinkin. LET ME COOK. Madoka magica!reader. LEMME COOK. Little warning this might be a yap sesh. Now I have multiple thoughts. Let’s say reader doesn’t do what madoka does and just becomes a regular magical girl. If we follow off of the show/manga. We’re gonna assume reader is gonna be around 7th grade. Which is gonna be such a young age to be fighting those TERRIFYING witches. Lowkey was shivering in my boots when I first saw sayaka’s form. So of course reader is gonna have ptsd. Especially if they were some what in Madoka’s place and watches mami get her head bitten off?!?!? I think the batfam would definitely start to pick up on things. Flinching from touch. Covering up more (covering scars and wounds from battle). Not being as talkative. Distancing herself away from people. We all know Alfred would IMMEDIATELY clock that and try to figure out what’s wrong. Batfamily is gonna take much longer to notice though, and when they do? They feel TERRIBLE. Having to fight some of the most disturbing and hard to beat witches. Having to watch your friends die one by one. I can definitely imagine madoka magica!reader starting to act like sayaka after finding out about the soul gem situation. Depressed and riddled with a LOT of ptsd. The batfam would probably blame themselves (serves them right). And when they try to confront reader to stop fight witches? But what happens if it’s too late. Either madoka magica!reader is either gruesomely killed in battle, or went through the excruciating process of becoming the witch. They wouldn’t know what to do. Some of them letting the guilt eat them alive, letting the guilt control their every thought. Only being able to think about the pain reader must have been in.(Bruce and dick). Some of them denying reader’s dead. They can’t be dead! No no they can’t they just can’t! This is all just a prank to get attention (Damien). Couple of them enjoying anything and everything that remind them about reader. Taking stuff from reader’s room. Just so they can have a little soloist.(Alfred, Tim). Others not being able to stand anything that reminds them of reader. Not being able to be reminded of the neglect reader was put through. That they helped put reader through that neglect. (Jason)

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have a lot more ideas for this but I don’t wanna yap to much and bother you TwT. But if you wanna have the concept go ahead! I’m not that good at writing so I wouldn’t be able to do. Btw you truly do have amazing writing!! Please remember to never overwork yourself<333

Babe, you have cooked and written this better than I would have. (I confess, I never finished Madoka Magica) And, I about to send all the asks I'm getting over this to you!

But, the way Bruce's disdain for magic would be solidified after this would be interesting. And, if they find out this is still happening to other children still, he'd probably go on a warpath and get the League involved as a way to help ease his guilt.

Or, watching him realize that there's no reversing Reader from being a Witch and that another magical girl is going to come a long an kill them.

I'm honestly wondering if one of the family members would make a deal just for a way to get Reader back.

[cosmowgyral]

"Beast in Office"- April Fool's Short AU Story

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

GVO Group

Until corruption and deceit vanish from the world—the GVO Group will lead us toward a tomorrow free of conflict.

This spring, I am changing jobs.

For the job interview, I made my way to the top floor of a gleaming, jet-black skyscraper—

Gilbert: You’re hired.

Emma: …Huh?

Gilbert: You’re my secretary now, so I’ll be counting on you starting tomorrow, okay?

Luke: Hey hey, hold up! She hasn't even stepped in and said a single word!

Gilbert: She doesn’t need to say anything. She is hired.

Sariel: Sir Gilbert, I think you’re being a bit hasty. She does seem quite taken aback.

Sariel: Besides, a job interview is also meant for the applicant to decide whether our company is truly the right fit for them.

Sariel: If you declare her hired without giving her a say, people might start questioning your sense of judgment.

Gilbert: What’s this? Since when does a tax accountant get to have a say on things like this?

Gilbert: Or is it something else? Maybe the company backing you told you to block any talented hires from getting through?

Sariel: You must be joking. It seems like Sir Gilbert is always suspecting me of being a kind of corporate spy…

Sariel: As you can see, I merely offered a suggestion in my capacity as an ordinary employee.

(The atmosphere is intense!)

(I checked the company website beforehand, so I know—the guy with the eyepatch is most likely the president.)

 (And the one sitting to his right must be the tax accountant.)

(The one by the window—big build and a serious vibe—he’s probably the president’s personal bodyguard.)

(And then---)

Kagari: You want a dorayaki?

Kagari: I’m the company’s official dorayaki vendor. Got a solid rep for flavor.

Kagari: The president downs about a hundred a day so business is booming.

Kagari: What say?

Emma: Then… I’ll have one please.

Emma: Wow, this is amazing! I wasn’t expecting it to be this good.

Kagari: Approved. I’m with the president—anyone who loves dorayaki can’t be bad at all.

Gilbert: I don’t like that you’re sneakily boosting your approval rating all by yourself—but since she’s clearly enjoying herself, I’ll let it slide.

Luke: Emma, was it?

Luke: So why’d you choose our company? You’ve figured it out by now, right? The boss is totally nuts.

(Here it comes, the reason I applied…. I’ve thought it through so I’ll be fine.)

Emma: You company is a leading name in the public safety industry—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’re responsible for all the nation’s security operations.

Emma: I was deeply moved by your philosophy—preventing crimes before it happen and creating a world where no one has to suffer, as a stepping stone towards global peace.

Emma: That’s why I applied, to see if I could be a part of that mission and contribute in any way I can.

Luke: …Don’t buy into that. That’s just a pretense—

Gilbert: Mhm, I like it. If you’re interested in world peace too, then you’re more than welcome here.

Gilbert: I absolutely despise corruption and deceit, but you seem like someone who’s got nothing to do with any of that.

Luke: You serious…? You’re really gonna drag a regular person into a workplace where assassins show up daily?

(Huh? Assassins?)

Sariel: I’m worried too. Becoming Sir Gilbert’s secretary practically guarantees getting caught up in trouble……

Gilbert: I don’t recall hiring anyone incompetent. As long as everyone does their job properly, there’s no problem at all.

Gilbert: More importantly, do you really think I’d ever allow such carelessness?

Luke • Sariel: …………

(This conversation’s getting way too sketchy! Don’t tell me… is the GVO Group actually some kind of shady organization..?)

Kagari: Do you want some more dorayaki?

Emma: Y-yes, please.

Gilbert: Well then, we already have the employment contract prepared.

Gilbert: All that’s left is for you to sign right here.

Gilbert: Everyone else can say what they want, but in the end, it’s your decision.

Gilbert: I’ll respect whatever you decide, okay?

(There might be a hidden side to this company that the world is unaware about.)

(But still, my desire to join this company remains unchanged.)

(Even if they are operating secretly behind the scenes, they have achieved real results in protecting this country’s peace…)

(I won’t know anything until I see it with my own eyes.)

Emma: Thank you very much. I’ll do my absolute best in this role.

Luke: Ahh, another poor soul has been added to the list.

Sariel: …In that case, it’s up to us to protect her now.

Kagari: From enemies? I’m good at cutting them down so leave it to me.

Gilbert: Heehee, let’s work hard together—for the sake of world peace, okay?

While Sariel and Luke buried their faces in their hands, Kagari remained expressionless, and President Gilbert greeted me with a dazzling smile—so radiant it was almost blinding, brimming with charm and confidence.

And so, I took his outstretched hand.

[kitkatscabinet]

Always been you

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! childhood friend reader

Summary: From the moment you first smiled at him as children Simon knew it would always be you.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: some nsfw content so minors keep scrolling

It starts like this, he’s 9 years old feet listlessly guiding himself to the rundown park desperate to be somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t the oppressive confines of home. The weather, as was typical of Manchester, wasn’t exactly cooperating. A dreary grey drizzle that served to keep most of the general populace indoors. Few parents were willing to stand outside and supervise their rowdy children. 

That’s not to say the area was completely devoid of activity and for a while Simon was content to sit idly on the swing set and people watch. Trying desperately to ignore the clench in his chest and the sting of tears in the corner of his eyes as he watched the loving interactions between child and parent. Bitterness and wanting in equal parts threatened to consume him. 

A voice from the side quickly pulls him from the harrowing thoughts, though he quickly thinks maybe they’d be easier to deal with. It’s a boy, around his age, maybe a little older and he’s boring like Simon’s deeply offended him. 

“Get off the swing, I want a turn.” The demand leaves Simon more than a little flabbergasted. Apparently, he takes too long to not follow the sudden command as the boy's face twists in even more displeasure. 

“I said, move!” He’s taller, and maybe it's because Simon had already been scared by Tommy that morning but he freezes. 

Or maybe it’s just because he’s pathetic, his father’s voice whispers traitorously in his mind. 

Thankfully, the thought doesn’t get to stick around for long as a new voice enters the fray. “Hey! Fuck off!” Both boys whirl around with wide eyes at the newcomer, neither sure how to respond to the loudly swearing girl. However, when the boy responds with what Simon assumes to be your name it becomes clear that you already know each other. 

“I don’t have to listen a girl.” That proves to be exactly the wrong thing to say, Righteous indignation lights up your face and before Simon can even blink the would-be bully is on the ground, clutching his nose with a cry. You’d punched him, hard enough that Simon could see the blood spilling out from over the crying boy’s hands and down his chin. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, Simon had let you pull on his hand, keeping it in a deceptively strong grip as you marched the two of them away. When you make it far enough from the crime scene you turn to him with a toothy grin, introducing yourself and promptly claiming the title of his new best friend. 

It’s not quite love at first sight, but years down the line Simon will recognise it as something close. 

The fourth time you meet at the park, not even two weeks from the initial greeting, you ask after his parents. It wasn’t unusual that Simon didn’t talk much, content to listen to you chatter away but you must have noticed something different in that instance of silence. You were alarmingly perceptive like that when it came to him, your eyes feeling as if they were staring directly into his soul, seeing all the shattered hurt he tried to hide. Nodding to yourself you grabbed his hand, an occurrence that he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet - your gentle touch, and tugged him along. You walk him all the way to your house, open the door with an excited bang and march straight up to your parents. 

“This is my best friend, Simon, he’s gonna sleep over tonight!” Your parents are rightfully not amused but their protests quickly die down. He has no idea what convinced them in the end, but from then on he’d somehow become a permanent fixture in your home. Dinners became a regular thing which often became sleepovers as you attempted to keep him out of the house that had caused him so much fear and pain. It was about as subtle as a brick to the face but Simon never complained, especially if it meant you’d pull him into your bed as often as possible to sleep. 

He hadn’t minded the first two ‘boyfriends’, they had been nothing serious, silly childhood infatuations. Because at the end of the day, it was always him that you returned to. Crawling through his window late at night and pouting that you couldn’t sleep without your favourite pillow, because somehow, despite his protests you always wrestled him into being the little spoon. 

No, it isn’t until he’s 17 and more than aware of how painfully in love with you he is that the boyfriends finally become a problem. Simon wasn’t a violent person, didn’t want to be, not like his father was. But as he holds you in his arms after you’d climbed through the window in tears, cuddling up to him under the blanket covering his bed that he swears for the first time in his life he could kill somebody. He offers too, you simply laugh and tell him he’s the best friend you could ever have. You think he’s joking, Simon’s not entirely sure he is. 

You’re his first kiss, something that had only occurred at your aghast knowledge that he’d never kissed anyone at all. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, you’re the only person he ever lets near him let alone touch him. It’s simultaneously the best and worst moment of his life because now he actually knows what it feels like to kiss you. Knows that nobody will ever live up to you. 

It’s then he realises that you’re his first everything really, first friend, first crush, first and only love. 

He reads some of your smutty books, the ones you giggle at, a secret he’ll take to the grave, just to learn what you like. It comes about after a drunken confession on your part, liquor loosening your lips just a tad too much as you detail how much your last boyfriend sucked in bed. It’s a mistake, because now every time he looks at you he can’t help but imagine the way you’d taste. How you’d sound begging so prettily for him. 

His decision to join the military was not made lightly, you’d gotten accepted into some fancy university and it’s then Simon starts to realise just how much his entire life has started to revolve around you. As much as he wants to follow, he knows that life isn’t for him, and he knows how much you want him to flourish in whatever path he chooses. 

Training isn’t easy, but it’s far from the hardest thing he’d ever done. That title was reserved for telling you about his chosen career path. 

“Promise me you’ll always come back home to me” you demand, parting just slightly from your hug to look into his eyes. Simon knows he shouldn’t, after all there’s never any guarantee that he will, but as has been the case since you were both 12 he can’t bare to say no to you. 

“I promise love” it’s barely a whisper but you still hear it, your fingers clutching at the back of his shirt starting to shake a little. 

He wants to kiss you, he always does, but standing before him now, eyes glassy from the tears you’re trying to hold back, Simon swears you’ve never looked more ethereal. As much as he wants to lean down and finally taste your lips he doesn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. Not to you or to him, so instead he presses a soft kiss to your hairline, keeping you held tightly against him. 

You send him more care packages than he can count, photos, letters and little trinkets he kept tucked safely away in his bunk or on his person when he could get away with it. He gets teased for it but Simon couldn’t give less of a fuck about their poorly hidden jealousy, not when you cared for him so deeply. Not when he gets to fall asleep with your words in his head and faint scent rubbing off on him. 

He’d thought that perhaps the distance would do him some good, would finally douse the blazing flames of his love for you. He really should have known better because as the day's drone on you start to consume his every thought both waking and asleep. His life becomes a series of training and missions that only serve as a way to pass the time until he gets to see you again. Because no matter how much blood stains his hands he knows you’ll always be there to wash it away. He’s aware how selfish it is, to place the brunt of his longing and emotional baggage that only continues to grow in your careful hands, but Simon’s never claimed to be a good man. 

Some of the darkness slips out one night, after his brother's wedding, after the revelry had died down and it was just the two of you lying on the grass and looking up at the stars at your insistence. He’ll forever blame it on the alcohol, descriptions of the violence he’d tried so desperately to keep from you pouring from his lips in confession. He can’t bear to look at you, heart roaring in his ears as he waits for the moment you’ll run, the moment you’ll finally realise what a monster he is. That moment never comes, instead, you ensnare him in your protective grip, hands cradling him far more softly than he deserves. It’s that moment that finally cements the fact that you’re never leaving in his mind. You’re never leaving so it’s up to him to pull away before he tarnishes your light, but Simon is weak and so he stays. 

It happens after his third tour, the one where he’d had too close a call, the one he’d thought for a few moments he wasn’t coming home from. In those moments he’d thought of you, of your smile and god he regretted. He regretted never telling you how he felt. 

It feels like he’s barely off the plane, eyes searching desperately for you before he hears the shout of his name. He spins just in time for you to launch yourself at his chest, gripping desperately onto him. You’ve always tried to keep your affection for him private, knowing he wasn’t entirely comfortable with people staring. Neither of you cared in that moment though and Simon’s already dropped his bags, engulfing you in a near-crushing grip. 

It’s an eternity before you pull away, but it’s still too soon. He briefly glimpses the tears in your eyes before he leans down and kisses you. Something in the back of his mind is screaming at him, but he doesn’t really care to listen. At first, you don’t respond and Simon finally panics as the consequences of his actions set in. You don’t give him the chance to run away though, hands grasping his face and keeping him in place. 

When you pull away you don’t say anything, simply taking his hand in yours and tugging him out to your car. The drive to your apartment is silent, but not uncomfortable. It isn’t until you’ve pulled him into your bed, in a mirror image of your younger years that you finally break the silence. 

“I never thought you felt the same.” The same? The implications of your words seared into the forefront of his mind. 

“Silly girl, why would I ever even look at somebody else when you exist?” You let out an adorably embarrassed squawk at his words, lightly hitting him on the chest as you bury your burning face against his neck.“It’s always been you” he murmurs, the confession settling over you like a wave. 

For a split second, he fears your relapse into silence means he’d pushed too far too fast. Years of pining bubbling up and over the surface at the slightest bit of reciprocation. You’re quick to shut down his internal spiral with another earth-shattering kiss, pulling away and resting your chin on his chest. 

“Yeah, you’ve always been it for me too Si. From the moment I pulled you from that swing." It's a little embarrassing, how fast his heart races at the confession. Tears build in the corners of his eyes as he finally, finally lets himself fully succumb to your love. You're quick to wipe them away though, because you would always take care of your Simon.

[aajjks]

Reward (m)

synopsis. You lure him in so deep in your embrace that he never wants to leave, no matter what, even if you beg him to leave you.

pairing: yan!married jungkook x prostitute fem!reader

warnings: ïnfèdïlïty, kïssïng, mèntïöns öf mürdèr, crázy jk, yândèrè bêhàvïöúr, mätǔrè thèmès, blóódy knïfè, ünhëälthy bèhávïöür, pröstïtütè yn.

note. it’s about time I start experimenting w my content with a lot more taboo themes, darker ones, maturer but ofc not explicit, this is obviously very dark so viewer discretion is heavily advised and this is purely fictional, do not romanticise this in irl

You guys can send asks for this one too. I think you are gonna like him.

______

Some sane part of Jungkook’s mind keeps on warning him that this is so fucking wrong at so many levels. This is so wrong, he is so bad. But yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of guilt.

He knows it though deep down.

But he can’t help himself, the temptation is far too strong for him to resist, yet it wasn’t like he didn’t try to hold himself back.

He wanted to be faithful, but ever since he has seen you? He doesn’t care. Maybe he just never cared and you helped him realize it.

He has tried, so many fucking times. But he always finds himself coming back for you, to you.

It is crazy that how addicted he has become to you. It is crazy how a one time thing has gotten so far. For the first time he saw you he was here with his friends.

And now he’s gone too far to go back now.

And now he’s here again, looking for the one he desperately wants to see the most right now.

The bartender looks up at him, and he almost sighs in annoyance, but the thing is that this man brings in good money.

So he will be nice. He does want a large tip.

“Sir, Your regular?” Jungkook looked up to see the tall man, not interested in having a drink, but he is so impatient to see you, and maybe having a drink, can help him calm down a little,

So he ends up, asking for the drink.

Alcohol and you help him.

Depression is taking over him, he needs to see you. He’s not sure if he can depend on the alcohol anymore. You are what he needs.

“Where’s Opal?” He clicks his tongue as the bartender passes him his drink, Jungkook grabs the glass and stares at it intensely, his appearance is messy, His hair has gotten longer and curly, all messy like he has been running his hair through it constantly.

His tattooed fingers tap on the glass, his eyes are wild as he glares at the man behind the marble counter, he’s so eager to hear his answer about your whereabouts. Of course he knows you are here, but what if you’re busy with another client?

He’s going to kill the owner if that’s the truth because he told him to not let you see other clients, but him.

anger and desperation are mixed in his bloodshot orbs.

He looks so crazy right now. The bartender is actually scared right now.

“I don’t know.” The man simply replies,, staring at him. He looks concerned but Jungkook doesn’t care. “I’m a bartender not her personal bodyguard.” The hazel eyed man barks and jungkooks grip tightens around the grass

Jungkook clenches his jaw.

How can he talk about you like this.

“Maybe she’s busy tending to some client… I don’t really know, sir.” A wave of jealousy washes over Jungkook like a raging storm, his hand gripping on the fragile thing, abnormally aggressively so.

“2,000$, I need to see her! Please!” Jungkook names his price.

The other man’s eyes go wide at his offer, because this is just absurd, he can’t be serious about giving him $2,000 just so he can see you right now.

But something in his mind is telling him that he’s not lying.

Jungkook stands up suddenly, Jungkook knows he is acting crazy but it has been so fucking long.

You are like everything to him, he was so lonely before you,, his wife didn’t care about him, you did, your company made him happy.

God, he needs you so bad.

“W-Woah! I-I said I don’t know!” Jungkook rolls his eyes and gritts his teeth, his patience is running thin. What a greedy little bastard.

He knows where you are.

The dog just wants some more bone.

“3,000, CALL HER FOR ME!” He slams his hands on the counter, his dark eyes are crazed, the bartender simply gulps.

He needs to stop testing his patience before jungkook actually throws the glass at him.

“O-Okay, come with me.”

Jungkook smirks.

Greedy fucker. But he will do anything for you.

———

He isn’t going to leave you alone after all.

You were actually happy that he hadn’t been visiting you for almost a month and you forgot about him but now you’re getting ready for him.

You sigh as you fix your dress finally putting on the coat and then you swipe on the red lipstick on your lips that he likes so much on you, the Chanel stick in your hand that he brought for you himself, he only likes this color of red on you, and then you will proceed to apply the cherry flavored lip oil on top.

You’re always paying attention to what your clients like particularly this one because he’s really demanding. and the reason why you are not really that excited to see him is because when you’re with him, he’s kind of weird and even when he’s not here he demands that you do not see other people.

You cannot be with other clients he doesn’t like it.

But right now you have to focus your attention on him, the last thing you do is put on the perfume, and then you’re out, making your way to the VIP suite.

your heartbeat is hammering when you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and then you make your way into the vip suite,

God, he is really back for you.

Your hair blocks your view as you finally enter the large air conditioned room, oh, because he likes it down, he is so particular about the way you dress it’s like you’re his doll he’s the puppeteer.

The dark lighting is not making it easier for you to spot him. You’re kind of annoyed, but you need the money and you know that Jeon Jungkook has what you want.

So It is show time.

“You’re back, mr Jeon?” You purr, walking confidently towards him, taking off your coat as you stalk towards the man, “after so long huh?” You continue. Smirking seductively.

Jungkook is looking at you like a hawk, a huge smile on his face, and soon he gets up and is awfully quick to grab your body as he pulls you into his embrace. His action catches you off guard, but it’s not really anything new.

He’s always this eager.

“Woah, easy there.” You giggle, He doesn’t speak a word as he pulls you into his chest. His expensive perfume is all you can smell right now and you like it because it smells luxurious.

“I-I missed you so much!” He cries as he nuzzles his face into your neck. The sound of him actually sniffing your scent makes you cringe.

He is so weird, but he was hot. No one can actually guess by looking at him that he can be this pathetic for a woman like you, but only if they knew and saw him like this.

He’s a famous man with a serious reputation, but what do you see in this room is a completely different man. So you let him hug you and sniff you, the better you please him the more money he will give you.

In a way, you’re both really desperate, your motives are just really different.

“God… you’re finally near me… I’m so sorry I can’t control myself.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your skin, even though he’s really hot and rich but you feel a little disgusted because he’s a married man and here he is.

You feel bad for his wife.

when he finally breaks the hug you feel a rush of relief.

Now you’ll go straight to business, so you lick your lips, staring at him. He’s undeniably sexy.

“So… what do you want me to do, a lap dance?” You trail your black french tipped nails on his hard chest, your tone is sickly sweet trying to cover the impatience in your voice.

You look at Jungkook with a sultry gaze, He is so fucking sexy and filthy rich too.

You need the money.

“Or… would you like something else? Hmm?” You were careful with your words as you watch his gaze fill with desire, numbing on the meat of your lower lip.

Wow, this is pretty easy.

“I-I want you.”

He stutters as you smirk batting your lashes at him, and that’s enough to make him crash his lips on yours, his kiss is sloppy and almost desperate, swallowing away your breath. His hands quickly grab your waist as he pulls you closer and closer.

His kiss is intense, but you managed to catch up, he is kissing youlike he was dying and you were the last wave of air he needed to survive.

Unlike his shy personality and timid habits around you, he is a filthy good kisser.

wow.

You try to match his pace, running your hands on his body, his hand grabs your ass your hands travel down to his hips too and that’s when you feel something sharp poking on from the back of his pocket.

It’s not a wallet or a phone, it’s pointy, and curvy as you feel it.

Jungkook is so lost in your kiss to not notice your hand sneaking into his pocket at the back of his hip, too lost in the sensation.

You are careful with the movement as you finally take out the thing and wrap your hand around the object.

And that’s when he realizes what you’ve done.

“W-What are you doing?” Jungkook pulls away from your mouth, thankfully for you, you have your hands on the object.

You look into the eyes and now he looks panicked, which is weird because what is it that you’ve pulled out of his pocket? You don’t reply to him as you look at it and,

You feel goosebumps. Immediately backing up from him. And now you’re panicking too because you cannot believe what is in your hands right now.

You are frozen. Way too shocked and scared to speak, but you have to ask him

“W-What is this?!?” Your eyes were wide with fear and shock as you keep on backing away from him, what the fuck did he do?!

And why is here?! Why is he really here?

Tears prickle against your eyes, the stains of blood on the silver knife are scaring the shit out of you. And what is even worse is that they look fresh.

“M-Mr J-Jeon?!?” You stutter, looking up to him. But he’s got this crazed look in his eyes, they’re too bright and sparkly.

“Darling don’t be afraid of me.” He stalks closer as you stepped back, “d-don’t come near me!”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, looking at you like you’re overreacting you’re not overreacting, but he’s not fazed at all. “sweetheart relax… this is my knife… And that’s…” he halts his steps,

For a moment, you think that he’s sensed your fear and you’re uncomfortable around him but soon your bubble is bursted when he cages your trembling body in.

“My wife’s blood on it.” He swipes his tongue on his lower lip. His tone is so normal, like he is having a daily conversation with you.

He has just confessed to killing his wife, and now he’s looking at you like he’s done nothing. You can’t believe him.

You can’t bring yourself to scream for help when he snatches away the knife from you.

“Nice flavour” you have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about but soon he touches his red, stained lips, referring to your cherry flavoured lip oil you had put on your lips, he smirks again, his eyes dark and heavy.

“Now, we can really be together forever, darling!I got rid of her for you so we can be each other’s forever, I got fucking rid of her, FINALLY!” He giggles like a maniac.

Shivers.

What the fuck is he talking about?!

“That hag, oh my God… I hated her guts! I-I love you so much! S-She found out about u-us so I had to kill her b-because she wouldn’t let me be with you!”

You want the earth to swallow you, your mind is frozen from shock, shit, this dude is actually crazy.

“and now you’ll be mine forever yn. This is so perfect. Just like I imagined. Aren’t you proud of me? I think I deserve a reward.”

He travels his hands down to your hips once again.

He is not going to let you go. You are fucked.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Do you think after a long day of kingly duties aegon likes to curl up with his sweet wife and she just gently fingers him? If you have thoughts about that I’d love to hear about how aegon would respond

Yes yes yes absolutely!! I love how we’re all so obsessed with the idea of a happy, horny pampered Aegon he was truly made for that life

Of course, NSFW sub!Aegon below the cut

So firstly, I think Aegon would LOVE to have a tradition of doing a little debriefing every night?

There’s plenty of practical reasons this is great, like how it means you can stay up to date on what Aegon needs help with and he can ensure he knows what you’ve done or will be doing. Of course he’ll also complain about the annoying stuck up nobles he had to deal with and you’ll always just let him because if you don’t let him vent to you he will say those things to the actual noble and you’ll have another war on your hands.

At first this debrief is just you and him sitting on chairs across from each other in your bedroom. Pretty soon it started becoming a regular occurrence for him to end up on your lap by the end of it and then after that he just started immediately sitting on your lap and not even going to his own chair. Of course sitting on your lap means he’s also gonna kiss you and hug you and bare his neck and whine if you don’t give him hickeys.

Once things get more sexual (well, once Aegon stops trying to hide how badly he wants to sub), it’s not unusual for him to be whiney and horny in your lap every night, not even wanting to talk because he’s too horny and you must play with him!!

That’s when you decide to just start off in bed always, because then if he is horny you’re ready and also even if he’s not, you can still cuddle.

Maybe it turns into this little game where if Aegon is really worked up about something, you’ll tell him to vent about it while you play with him. He’s not allowed to beg or ask for anything, he can only vent about his day and that’s it.

Watching as he whines and shakes in your arms and composes himself just enough to continue talking and then you cup his cock and he’s a shaking mess once again. He loves it so much. 

Likewise, if you know Aegon has been particularly good that day then you’ll let him tell you all about it while you finger him. Aegon LOVES being able to tell you how good he’s been. Honestly he doesn’t behave for the betterment of the kingdom or to fulfil his duties or anything like that, he behaves so he can tell his pretty wife at the end of the day!!!

(Or during the day too. I’m now picturing you arriving late to court for whatever reason and Aegon is sitting on the thrown listening to people. When he spots you he immediately gets off the thrown and sits down on the stairs just under it, waiting patiently for you to sit down and the moment you do he starts telling you all the decisions he’s made thus far with the biggest smile on his face and he only carries on listening to others once you’ve leaned forward and kissed the top of his head)

Anyway, yeah absolutely he’d love it.

[xenteaart]

it's not about the roses

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but despite a brief mention of the studio it can fit any au, really) word count: 1,1k genre/warnings: er, fluff, a hint of angst if you squint but overall just tooth rotting sweetness. reader being kinda vulnerable author's note: inspired by my and @skzms 's channie brain worms, me crying over how boyfie he is in may's dms and her coming up with this little prompt. i'm manifesting a sweet healthy relationship for y'all, never settle for less <3

you were never the one for flowers, really.

it just didn’t seem anything meaningful or special, an occasional cute little bouquet on some first date you had ages ago, meeting someone completely new after mindlessly swiping them right on a dating app. plus, it’s always such a bother to take care for it. disassemble the thing, cut the stems, change the water, maybe cut off the leaves too.

at some point, you began to think of yourself as more of a practical person, taking gift giving to the point where it completely lost symbolism. always getting your friends and family either money or something they specifically asked for.

“at least, they’re actually gonna use it and get some utility out of it. ‘s good, right?” you thought to yourself, ticking a box on one of your friend’s wishlists for their birthday. it is good. no stress of choosing and endlessly pondering whether they’ll like it or not.

or is it avoiding the vulnerability of going down a more symbolic route if they don’t happen to respond to your gift the way you’d like them to after carefully planting hidden meanings and confessions all over a seemingly useless present? yeah, maybe, that’s the one, actually.

it was a regular saturday evening, no work, no plans, no big day or anything to celebrate. so, naturally, you were just spending the time at your place, resting after successfully having done all the house chores in one go.

purposelessly lying on the bed, you wondered what chris was up to. it wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to leave each other hanging during the day, keeping each other’s messages unread and waiting for some free time to give a thoughtful, proper reply.

but the little “1” next to your kakaotalk message was starting to feel unfriendly because... honestly? you just missed him. you wanted to know about his day, what he ate for lunch and whether work was okay today (knowing full well the man couldn’t care less about days of the week, coming over at the studio any time he needed or pleased).

distracting yourself with scrolling tiktok for a quick dopamine hit, you end up losing track of time a little. and the thing bringing you back to reality is chan’s short message, popping up on your notifications bar.

“can you come out for a sec? i’m at the door hehe~”

it takes you three times to read to finally understand what it actually means. he doesn’t have keys to your apartment yet, and you mostly hang out at his place anyways, so him coming all the way to the opposite side of the city makes your heart skip a beat.

you rush to the door and open it almost immediately, only to see channie, your channie, standing right in front of you with a nice bouquet of red roses wrapped up in kraft paper. the next thing you notice is chan’s wide smile, so sincere and endearing it makes you wanna cry on the spot.

you were never the one for flowers, really.

red roses always seemed like something either too vulgar or “easy”. something that becomes men’s first pick because they just never care enough to look for anything else and assume every girl loves it by default.

right now, however, it doesn’t feel like either of those.

the way chris is a bit nervous and really excited all at once; his hands gripping at the crunchy paper-wrapped base as he's waiting to give the flowers to you. the way his eyes sparkle and shine with warmth and genuine adoration for you. and you read past the roses, you learn so much more from it.

you learn how he’s been quiet because he was plotting a little surprise for you, trying not to be too obvious.

you see how he thought of you during the entire process, from an idea to carefully picking out the best flowers, making sure they’re fresh and pretty and will stay this way a while.

you can hear his timid little “thank you” to the florist as they exchange their bows and polite smiles.

you imagine the slightly awkward small talk with the taxi driver asking him about the occasion — the traffic and the parking area next to your building are awful, so you’re guessing he did take the taxi. and the drivers sure love to talk on the long drives, this one you had to learn the hard way.

gosh, chan looks so warm and… so soft, his lips making a familiar heartbreaking :] shape.

snapping out of your thoughts, you look into chris’s eyes and swallow down a salty lump in your throat.

“please don’t be alarmed, but i probably will cry a little,” you warn him before your voice gives out and take the roses, holding them close to your chest where the heart is bleeding.

“so pretty,” you stare down at the gentle velvety petals and sniff quietly.

chan looks worried for a moment but quickly pulls you into his embrace, stepping into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

“hey-y, i expected a smile, not your tears, baby. i didn’t upset you, did i?” to which you shake your head to reassure him.

“no, no, ‘course not! what do you mean? they’re so nice. i’m just… really happy? and i missed you. so much,” the last words come out like a weak mouse squeak as you close your eyes and let your emotions roll down your cheeks, staining your skin wet.

chan nods and takes your face into his palms, wiping away the tears and looking at you so lovingly you think you might actually break.

“i missed you too, baby. do you mind if i stay the night? i…- uh. i bought some face masks too, so we can just relax a little before bed and cuddle?”

you squeeze out a little “yeah” in response, headbutting his forehead and putting your arm around him, with another still holding the roses carefully.

“i love you,” you say slightly louder, making sure that he hears it.

maybe, gifts don’t have to be practical all the time. maybe, it’s okay to put sentimental value into simple, useless things sometimes. make them mean something.

“i love you too, baby,” chris hums still a little confused, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back and planting a chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose.

you reach for his plump soft lips and press yours against them. and even though your tastebuds can feel the salt, it’s the sweetest kiss you two have shared so far.

[dystopyx-blog]

with the ask about all the characters that overblot, you mentioned we’d be better off when they’re regular yanderes as opposed to overblotted yanderes—so who do you think would be the easiest and who do you think would be the worst in their regular yandere state? and do you think some of their yandere tendencies would be different pre-overblot compared to post-overblot?

gonna ramble for a second here… i am honestly not too sure with leona, vil, or idia but i kind of imagine riddle lightens up significantly after it. probably more lenient with his darling in general, but especially regarding the whole following rules thing. i see azul being a 50/50, it probably depends on your reaction. having his darling witness his overblot, aka seeing his deepest darkest insecurities, and react poorly might validate his not-so-good tendencies, i.e., blackmail, lies, manipulation, gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. but if they react more positively, i assume he would feel more inclined to establish a relationship in a healthy… or at least in a more normal/conventional way. with jamil, i am under the belief it wouldn’t necessarily improve or worsen, it’ll just change. prior to the overblot, his methods likely follow a more sneaky approach, i’ll let you decide what that means lmao, but afterwards, he just becomes more blatant and likely won’t even attempt to hide it anymore. malleus is the only one i am almost certain will become even more difficult. the fear of losing you is still very prominent, but now he also fears hurting you again. he definitely thinks that he is the only one capable of keeping you safe, or at least he did think that, but now that delusion is… essentially shattered and he knows it’s all his fault. i don’t even know what he would do, but i just feel like it will be 10 times worse. stop i didn’t realize how much i’d yap hope you don’t mind…

mmmm, I love ramblings <3

Tbh I was already thinkin of doing a general “what kind of yandere are they?” Post, this gives me a lil head start on it, teehee.

Riddle - riddle is WORSE pre overblot! Because overblot teaches him to be less strict. So after overblot, he’s more forgiving with you, even if he wants to just keep you locked up. But pre overblot riddle is an extremely strict and possessive yandere! You are his king of hearts, therefore you must stay beside him and FOLLOW HIS RULES! No exceptions, even for his darling! Especially for his darling, you are supposed to help lead by example! He can’t stand it when you misbehave in front of the others, no matter how much he loves you. It’s only after his overblot he becomes far more lenient, and it is only after his overblot that he starts treating you with exceptions. He doesn’t want to be like his mother, after all. So he shows you proper love and affection, instead of just rules rules rules. And post overblot riddle feels so so so fucking bad for basically putting you through a speed run of what he GREW UP WITH, which gives you an extra bit of leniency, as well.

Leona - Leona is pm the same pre or post. Like at most he will try a little harder after his overblot to have you. He also will likely be more interested in you after his overblot.

Azul - Azul could very well be worse after his overblot. He watched all his contracts go up in sand. And he went from being fairly confident in himself to once again feeling pretty self conscious, as you said, he had all his insecurities on display. I imagine that after his overblot, more of his confidence is for show. He is SHAKEN after that, in a way that the others aren’t necessarily. All this greatly increases his desire to have you, and have you completely, in a way that leaves no room for doubts. He’ll find somewhere even more secure than where he kept his contracts just for you.

Jamil - I agree, I see Jamil as far more blunt. Pre overblot, tbh I imagine you’d be a secondary goal. Like he’s been waiting so long for this opportunity, he’ll deal with romance later. And/or romancing you is a goal he views as going hand in hand with his takeover—like replace Kalim, charm the girl, that’s not two steps, that’s one and a half, y’know? He’s charming you while he ruins Kalim. But after overblot, he’d probably just walk up to you, no bullshit, just “I like you. I am asking you out.” But if you reject him… well, wtf else is he supposed to do besides try to slither his way into your a heart? Oh but one way to guarantee he’s worse post overblot is if you prefer Kalim. That is the one thing absolutely un allowed.

Vil - Vil is worse after overblot. Pre overblot he honestly doesn’t think about you that much, sorry. He has competition against Niege and like a million other things on his mind. But you… you make him better. In more ways than one, even. He NEEDS you, his overblot only proves that. He is worse after overblot, because pre overblot he will give you quite a lot of freedom (as in he’ll let you go as you please, but he’s still controlling in the same way he is with pomefiore students), but after his overblot he requires you by his side 24/7 or he will freak the fuck out.

Idia - idk much about his overblot :’) Idia is one I see getting worse tho, in a similar vein to Azul.

Malleus - idk much about his overblot :’) but I very much agree with you.

[digonthis]

Catered Audience- Pt. 4

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

1.8k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

part 1 part 2 part 3

tags (ily): @midnightdragonzero @stand-tall-pineapple @anarchisticedtea

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Spencer loved the Smosh holiday parties… for the first hour.

After that it tends to become more exhausting than anything else. Everyone was either drunk, babysitting the drunks, or starting the next big office rumour thanks to stupid drunken actions taken out of context.

That’s exactly why, upon arrival, he snuck away to one of the smaller rooms in the venue, one with a tv that him and Alex had discovered the year prior, and ended up watching a movie after the boredom of the late-night party set in. This time, he was a little more prepared with clone hero on his laptop and the guitar controller he’d swiped from the office for the occasion. Once satisfied that the setup would bring a smile to Alex’s face a few hours from now, Spencer adjusted the collar of the ugly christmas sweater he’d been coerced into wearing and made his way into the party.

Music, lights, food, crowds of people, and a million selfies he was encouraged to join in on overwhelmed him immediately. Being on everyone’s instagram stories was a given for this kind of event, so he threw on his best photo smile and an awkward thumbs up. He soon found Alex, whose sweater was even uglier than his own. Through the regular slew of joking insults that they greeted each other with, Spencer swore he could see an irregularly cheerful smile always on Alex’s face, as if he had something planned that he couldn’t keep to himself for long.

Spencer let that be for now, turning his attention to Ian’s little opening speech. It was more of a stand-up routine really, poking fun at everyone while simultaneously acknowledging all the hard work and progress they’d accomplished this year. It ended with a toast, almost everyone had a glass of something bubbly in hand, and a ravenous applause. Alex nudged him gently, but Spencer paid it no mind. It was only after three or four nudges that he actually turned his attention to his friend, following his gaze again until it landed on a group of the girls standing a few metres away, toasting their own glasses. Angela, Arasha, Courtney, and… someone else. Facing away, he couldn’t make out who it was.  Alex just kept looking at him with that stupid smile as gears refused to turn in his brain.

“Hey man, is that uh… the…”

“Yup.”

“Oh. Huh.”

That was all Spencer could manage, his brain short-circuiting as he realized that it was definitely her. Even from the back, he recognized her hair, and his ears picked up that familiar laugh, watching her shoulders shake at a stupid joke someone had made. 

He quickly realized confirmation of identity would come very soon as she started to turn around, eyes flickering around the room. She seemed to be looking for something for just a moment before returning to the conversation. “Go talk to her.”

Spencer 's gaze snapped to Alex, appalled by his request. “I’m not gonna just- she’s a stranger!” “She knows you from the videos, i’m sure. She made you a cupcake.” Alex replied coolly, before draining his glass. Spencer stood and thought for a moment, trying to think of how he could start a normal conversation. Alex must’ve sensed his apprehension, grabbing another glass for each of them. “You’re the least awkward guy ever, you know. Just be normal. Chill.”

“Nah, I don’t want to freak her out. Especially after all the stuff in videos lately. I’m not worried about it, really. Let her enjoy the party…”

This was obviously a bit of an excuse, but Alex decided to let it slide. He saw the way Spencer was holding onto the drink he’d given him, eyes flickering to where she’d stood every few seconds. Thankfully, work parties at Smosh were always jam-packed with things to do, so it wasn’t long before some game or speech or tik tok filming would take his mind off of the unexpected party guest.

As expected, a few hours passed and Spencer had exhausted any energy he had to think about the girl. There were a few times they’d locked eyes, but neither had bothered to talk to the other. He usually kept an eye on where she was, just for his own peace of mind. For the last fifteen minutes, there was no sign of her, so he assumed she’d gone home. A twinge of regret hit him, just a little, for not just doing what Alex said and talking to her, but the guilt didn’t last too long as he remembered his setup from earlier.

Slipping away from the group he was standing in, long since tuned out of the conversation, Spencer made his way to the room he’d left the guitar hero in. Hearing soft music coming from the room, he silently cursed Alex for starting without him before shoving the door open in a playful huff, ready with a quip about patience before immediately choking on his words.

There she was. The girl who hadn’t left his mind for weeks, surrounded by empty cups of booze, high heels abandoned, dialled in and absolutely shredding Alice in Chains.

She was mumbling the words along too, and from the looks of the notes flying on the screen it was quite the tough difficulty setting. She kept up, eyes never leaving the screen as obviously experienced fingers hit the fret buttons and strummed away. She had the telltale blush of a drunk across her cheeks and nose, even spreading a little to her ears, and her eyelids drooped a bit every now and again before snapping back to high alert. To Spencer’s delight, the door wasn’t loud enough or in a position where she’d seen him walk into the room, so he took a moment to appreciate the sight.

The song ended before he’d figured out what to do or say, so he simply walked over and sat next to her, clapping along with the applause coming from the game. Her eyes widened as they finally met his, the grip she had on the plastic guitar tightening before she quickly pulled it off, offering it up. “I didn’t mean to mess with your stuff, I just haven’t played since I was in college and wanted to see-”

“Good song choice, do another.” He stated plainly with a gentle smile. She was obviously a little startled, but nodded before slowly putting the guitar back on. “I still want a turn after, though. Just need a minute to decide what to play...” Spencer added, adjusting his sitting position on the floor, intent to watch the girl and the screen at the same time.

She took a few minutes to scroll through songs, humming along to a few previews before settling on Nine Inch Nails. “I could never do the solo at the end as a kid, it always killed my hands…” She muttered, setting the difficulty to hard and settling her fingers on the keys as the beat started up.

She played the majority of the song with ease, but just as she said, the solo came around and she fumbled it immediately. Teeth dug into her bottom lip as the screen flashed red and the song abruptly ended, making her giggle nervously. Spencer, who hadn’t realized how invested he’d become until that moment, unclenched his fists and leaned back with a soft smile. “That shit was tough, I can’t blame you…” He mumbled, shifting a little. She began to pull the guitar strap off again, but he placed his hand on her’s for a split second before pulling away. “At least try one more time, you were close!”

It took a little convincing, but the drunken, glazed over look in her eyes turned to determination at his insistence and she booted the song back up again. He was now sitting ever so closer, His hip almost bumping hers as she dialled in on the song. Note after note, Spencer was painfully aware of the approaching solo, the alcohol in both their systems making the feat far more important than what it actually was.

Before he knew what he was even really doing, he had slid over to sit behind her. The pads of his fingers pressed to the tops of hers as he tried to find the frets, the notes started rolling in. He felt the way she tensed against his chest for a moment before leaning into him, now only focused on strumming as tipsy giggles fell from her lips. The song filled the silence of the room as Spencer handled the solo almost mechanically, gently pinning her fingers to the buttons, puppeting her through the tough stuff without problem. 

He quickly released his hand as she whispered a quiet thank you, feeling her hands regain control, hard part was done. A quick nod of acknowledgement was meant to be his cue to slip away, even if it was barely in her peripheral, but he hesitated on moving out of her personal space as he noticed the gentle pressure on his chest hadn’t gone away. She was still leaning on him. He sucked in a generous breath, hoping his heartbeat wasn’t going any crazier than it already had been, and settled in to watch her play the rest of the song. He held his breath a little at her shaky ending, but let it out slowly with a smile on his face as she seemed to brighten up at finally finishing the track, giggling fit returning as she let her head fall back on his shoulder so their eyes could finally meet. “You’re pretty good at that, you know.” 

Spencer could only smile and nod at first, looking away after a moment of taking in how pretty her eyes were up close. “I work on the games channel here, it’s kinda my job to be pretty good at that stuff.”

That only makes her laugh again, adjusting the guitar again and holding it up against her body. “Your turn now, only fair. Pick a song.”

His arms wrap around her carefully, taking hold of the controller and beginning to scroll through songs. He could only pray that it would be a little longer before Alex showed up to play with them, fully unaware that Alex had been the one to tip the girl off to the hidden game room in the first place. Nobody would be bothering them, that was for certain. As Spencer began the next song and the girl settled against his chest, the sting of biting his lip in concentration was the only way he could stay convinced this was anything other than a dream.

Her little hums and sighs as she watched the screen, the smell of her hair, the way he felt her tense and focus for difficult riffs and hum along to the lyrics she could recall… maybe he was dreaming, after all.

[bullet-prooflove]

Safe: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Umbrella - Gibbs gets more than he bargained for when he offers you his umbrella.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

The thing that Gibbs likes most about you is that you don’t give damn about what anybody else thinks. That becomes blatantly obvious over the months he continues works with you. You’re a consummate professional, a fierce victim advocate and the most compassionate woman he’s ever met.

The way you speak to the families, it’s an art form.

He could only wish for more people like you. People who haven’t become desensitised by everything they’ve seen. People who still give a shit.

“I don’t know how you do it.” He says to you one night over drinks at a bar he’s already forgotten the name of. “How do you stay sane after seeing so much death?”

Meeting up like this, it’s starting to become a regular thing between the two of you. You’ve been doing it ever since the day you ran into each other at the cemetery. Most nights he grabs a few drinks with his team but Thursdays, he reserves those especially for you.

“I know that people think I’m cold, detached…” You say as you swirl the ice cubes around whiskey glass. “But when I look down at them, I see the person they were. Lieutenant Colchester’s calloused fingers from where he played guitar, the scar on Ensign Lopez’s knee from a cycling accident. They all had hobbies, a life, people who care about them.” You take a sip from the glass. “I guess that makes me driven.”

“It’s a good way to be.” Gibbs tells you, his gaze meeting yours. “You fight for them, even when the lead on the case tells you, you shouldn’t.”

He’s talking about the blow up they all overheard coming from Family and Sexual Violence and Threat Management Unit this afternoon. You have a dead Corporal on your table and Special Agent in Charge LaRue is shoving the file to the bottom of the pile because the deceased used to be hook to put food on the table before she joined the service.

“I’m gonna be person non-grata in that department for a very long time.” You state as you signal to the bartender for another round. “They’ve already requested another M.E.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Gibbs tells you as if it’s something irrefutable.

That’s one of the reasons you like about spending time with Gibbs. There’s no platitudes, there’s only frankness. He’s a man without an agenda and you can not express just how refreshing that is.  

“I know.” You say, pushing your used glass away from you. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I thought it would bring any of them justice.”

You damn well would too, he knows it.

It’s an hour later that he begins to tug on his jacket. It’s the same everytime. Eleven o’clock hits and he walks you home. Only tonight you aren’t pulling on your coat, your still sitting there, your finger tracing around the top of the glass you’ve been drinking from.

“Maeve?” He questions, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“I think I’m gonna stay a while.” You tell him and he sits back down on his stool.

“Alright, well I’ve got nowhere else to be-”

“Jethro.” You say softly, your hand coming to rest on top of his ensuring you have his full attention. “You know that feeling you get, that frustration that builds and builds until you end up starting a fight. I get that too, only I fuck it out.”

“Oh.” He says as it dawns on him. “I’m cock blocking you.”

“You look like a big strapping Marine, ready to beat the shit out of anyone that approaches me.” You inform him and he supposes he kinda does.

“I’m not sure how comfortable I feel…” He begins because his momma taught him a lot better than to leave a woman alone in a bar.

“It’s not about your comfort.” You remind him, your voice turning brittle. “It’s about me getting what I need and what I need is to get fucked.”

He doesn’t like it, not because of the sex but rather the danger it presents. You’ll be taking home you don’t know, someone who could hurt you or worse. He also knows he can’t stop you, that you’re going to do this no matter what he says because it is a need, one that he recognises all too well.

“Will you call me or page me?” He asks you as he raises to his feet once again. “Just so I know you’re safe.”

You sigh, rapping your fingertips upon the surface on the table. He gets the feeling you aren’t used to people actually giving a shit about you. Well tough, he does and you’re just gonna have to get used to that.

“Maybe.” You concede. “If you leave within the next five minutes.”

Maybe…

That’s the best he’s gonna get for now.

It’s a couple of hours later that his pager chirps. He’s doing push ups in the dark on the bedroom floor, trying to chase away the images of another man touching you, tasting you, fucking you. He’s not a jealous man but he is protective, he would go to hell and back for the people he cares about and apparently you’re one of them. He picks up the tiny black device, his gaze fixating on the letters as they scroll across screen.

S-A-F-E.

Safe.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cameoliob]

what are your headcanons for kallus and jovan? how did they get together? who fell first and whose heart broke first? do they still hate each other when kallus joins the rebellion or do they simply act like the pettiest bitches towards each other? enquiring minds want to know

ANON THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THIS IVE BEEN WAAIITTTIINNNGG

Before I get into this I have to legally preface that 1. I’m a Kallus from the lower levels truther + I operate off the assumption that he does not have any family and that plays a decent role in what's going on 2. We dont know alot about Jovans personality so I lowkey just go off vibes but in my brain, teenage him is starry-eyed, a little naive, but SO kind. Older him is a little bit of a douche (not terrible, just the kind of guy that you have to scoff at whenever they talk too much). 

Okay I have a whole headcannoned timeline so im gonna lay this out for u

It's 19 BBY, the empire just started enlisting and all the rich Coruscanti kids are FIGHTING for a chance to go to the academy because “wow that sounds so much more fun than regular university.” Jovan is a part of this demographic. 

So you’ve got this whole class of rich kids doing rich kid things, and Jovan is having a great time; it’s the fourth week of school, he’s found his friend group, he gets along great with his bunk mates, everything is fantastic.

Except theres just this one… fucking guy…

This guy is in, like, half of Jovans classes and Jovan just can’t stop thinking about him because where in stars name did this skinny, scrappy, snappy, kid with a gnarly side eye come from???? Why is he so sickly looking???? And so mean????

And Jovan’s always been a curious guy, he wants to figure out what this guy’s deal is so he, of course, takes it upon himself to befriend this Edward Cullen looking ass dude. Easier said than done; Jovan finds out very quickly that Kallus does not trust easily and it takes at least three weeks of Jovan forcing his friendship on him (inviting him to sit with him in the mess hall, offering to help with assignments, sitting next to him in class, ect.) for Kallus to hold a full conversation with him. 

From there, though, it gets easier. Turns out that Kallus is, quite possibly, the coolest guy Jovan has ever met. He doesn't gaf about what people think about him, he’s gotten into fist fights before (real ones, not sparring!), he fucking parties, he fucks, he can hotwire a speeder, he’s so naturally smart, and cunning, and resourceful– Jovan is completely entranced by this guy. 

^^^(completely entranced by this guy.. I never said Jovan had good taste)

In the meantime, Jovan helps Kallus out with some of the pre-req classes needed for their first year, because as cool as he is, Kallus is not good at physics. 

By the end of their first year at the Academy, Jovan and Kallus become very close. It’s that kind of friendship between guys that, if you saw it from an outsider's perspective, you’d be like, “oh… are they..?? Do they..????? What???” but tbh they don't even think about it because they’re too busy being stupid

Now, the imps do NOT like taking days off, BUUUUT all those rich families donating to the academy do, so I imagine that– at least in the first few years of the empire– the academy had a short, 3 or so week long summer break. 

So we get to break, and Kallus is like “oh wait, I don’t have anywhere to go over break, guess I’ll just rough it out on the streets for a few weeks ig. Nothing new tbh.” And Jovan is like, “What???? No???? You’re not doing that????” and Jovan invites Kallus to tag along on his family vacation (idk where they go, maybe like Naboo or smth, I didn't think that far). Kallus obviously accepts. 

So they go on this vacation, and Jovan is thinking to himself, Waiiiiiittttt a minute………. I actually have wanted him so bad for like 3 months. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him, like I’m gonna blow my cover fuckuckufckufcjukcf.  But he’s like not trying to do anything about it because he’s all nervous. But THEN, last week of vacation Kallus is like. “I actually think that you should let me kiss u on the mouth.” and Jovan is like “okay bbg say less.” (Jovan fell first if that wasn’t clear)

(This situation is about to get ALOT gayer)^^^

AND THEN THE BREAKUP

They graduated the academy a year prior, Kallus has been doing his ISB training, Jovan has been doing whatever tf you do to become a lieutenant. They’ve been together for four-ish years atp. 

Kallus is SO locked in with his ISB training. Like he was a dedicated student before (he was top of his class for a reason), but this is borderline obsession. He’s never home, always working, always tired, ect ect. In the meantime, Jovan is climbing the ranks and he is lowkey kind of power tripping over it. He’s getting kind of entitled, a little passive aggressive, and is not really putting effort in tbh.

So Jovan is all annoyed because Kallus is always at work and he literally just wants to hang out with his boyfriend. Tbh, he thinks that Kallus is getting way too ambitious way too quickly.

And Kallus is all annoyed because Jovan isn’t giving him any good reasons to leave work, in fact, Jovan has been grating his nerves lately because he doesn’t do anything. Jovan isn’t ambitious enough. 

The resentment is BUIILLLDDDIINNNGGG

The night they break up is FUCKING CRAZY, OKAY

Jovan picks a fight because he fucking feels like it and Kallus is not having ANY OF IT. Huge blowout fight ensues; Jovan says something classist or something, Kallus calls him an “entitled, prissy twat,” Jovan tells Kallus with the “you wouldn’t have even graduated without my help,” Kallus fuckinf kicks the wall or something, Jovan starts yelling about the drywall, Kallus is like “okay, fuck you AND your goddamn drywall,” and JUST LEAVES

The next day Jovan comms Kallus like “bbg pleapelaleapsleapsleaplsea I messed up im sorry plzplzpzpzlpzlzpzlzp” and Kallus ignores the hell out of him. 

Kallus is pissed because tbh if things just went better, he honest-to-god would have married that man, but noOOOooOOooO, Jovan had to be STUPID

AND THEN SIXTEEN YEARS LATER KALLUS ARRESTS THAT HO and he is SOOOO HAPPY ABOUT IT

But then Jovan shows up in the rebellion and Kallus is so annoyed. 

Because for 1. He is kind of prissy and self important and most people would agree with that 2. No way they ended up in the same place after 18 years, that is so bs, and 3. It’s so awkward that Jovan has all of this info about who Kallus was growing up, and the life he lived before going into the ISB– in fact, he probably knows more than anyone in the Ghost crew just because he was there– and that is so mortifying

Jovan is so stoked

Because for 1. Kallus did all that work in the ISB only to end up a rebel anyways and that is hilarious 2. He has so much mildly embarrassing material about him in his back pocket. But tbh it’s kind of bittersweet for him because Kallus is his One that got away (He was planning on going RING SHOPPING, and then he got BROKEN UP WITH, what the FUCK) and he always reasoned with it by thinking that Kallus was irrevocably changed by the empire, and the Kallus he fell in love with wasn’t going to come back. BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT THAT HE IS BACK– yeah, he’s got a beard now, and he pretends to be all serious, but he’s the same snarky, cunning, side eyeing idiot that he fell for. And he knows he can't have him because that train has LEFT THE STATION

^^(This art is old so its a little jank but shhhhhhhhh, its the vibes that matter)

So he obviously deals with this by selling embarrassing pictures of Kallus from their academy years to Sabine, because that’s probably the best revenge he’s going to get.

Kallus is obviously over him, and has been for a LONG time, he just doesn't like Jovans personality, and Jovan kinda wants Kallus back but apparently that's not an option so they do end up creating a dynamic where they are so petty to each other when they get the chance. (Which is not often because the rebellion is big and if they can avoid each other, they will.)