#but for real you always need another bucket

[varpusvaras]

What's this about Finns & free buckets? I'm curious!

Ahh, free buckets....the greatest love of all Finns...

So, there is a meme about a phenomenon we have, and that is that sometimes places (like stores and such) will give out free buckets during their opening. I've seen some other places give out free buckets as well, but mostly it is stores that do that. Sometimes there is something in the bucket, most of the time it's just the bucket.

This is used as an insentive to get people to come in during the opening, but many times, people are there just for the free buckets. We also take queuing very seriously here, so there will be long lines just for the buckets. Sometimes they last for hours. I tried to google a bit about when did this whole thing start, and the earliest anyone knows was in 1989 when a store opened in Pirkkala. People really came in just for the free bucket, and the store had to change the campaing into if you buy something, you get a free bucket if you show the receipt. Apparently people started to then buy the cheapest things they could find, just so they could get the bucket.

This is still very much a thing, and because it is such a meme, I think it's very much intentional thing from the stores, because they know that if you mention free buckets, people will come. So now if there is a line or if some new place opens, the thing people will ask is "are there free buckets?"

I'm not kidding. Here's a line of 400 people waiting to get a free bucket.

Here's more!

Anyway, ilmainen ämpäri is love, ilmainen ämpäri is life <3

[sharlsworld]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ let the light in — 𝐋𝐍𝟒 𖤓

( 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ）

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾，𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆，𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾，𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

🝮

landonorris

liked by pierregasly and 2,351,095 others

landonorris feels so good to be back home

yn my sweetheart 🤍

⤷ landonorris my babylove

landolovesyn stop he always looks so sad whenever y/n isn’t with him :((

lewistearmeup it’s the fact she was at the race she just went back to monaco earlier then him 😭😭

danielricciardo Rest up mate ❤️

oscarpiastri Lando without y/n: 🖤💔👿🤒😖🤬🖕 Lando with y/n: 🤗😍☺️🫶🏻💘💖

⤷ mclaren Can confirm ✅

georgerussell63 You never smile like that with me…

⤷ landonorris well you don’t let me do the things i do to y/n???

⤷ alex_albon welcome back bud 😀

⤷ yn 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

mclaren “we miss you in the paddock queen” we all say in unison

⤷ landonorris she only missed friday???

⤷ mclaren Really? You wanna complain after I found you crying in your drivers room cause you “just need a hug from the one person who can make everything alright” ??

⤷ landonorris must you always expose me to my fans that i always cry whenever i’m not with y/n?? 😤

⤷ mclaren Wasn’t that surprising you literally posted yourself crying in Singapore when you were drunk after y/n went to go to the bathroom

⤷ landonorris WELL SORRY FOR HAVING SEPARATION INZINGTY SUE ME 🙄

⤷ mclaren Anxiety*

⤷ landonorris I HAVE DYSLEXIA SUE ME

⤷ mclaren It sounds like you want us to sue you?? Doesn’t seem like a good idea but If you say so

lilymhe the y/n affect is real

maxverstappen1 Didn’t even see you smile this big in Miami

estiebestie i need myself a y/n to my lando

♥︎ by author

sharls_licklayer he’s so gentle with her #needthat

charles_leclerc Guyssss how sweet 🥹🥹 he’s calling her his home 🥲 my heart 💔❤️

⤷ landonorris shark week?

⤷ charles_leclerc it’s always shark week 😈🦈❤️ #forzaferarri

⤷ charles_leclerc WAIT WAIT WAIT NO PLEASE I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT

🝮

yn

liked by nbsmallerbear and 2,899,147 others

yn how could anyone hate such a sweet boy

maxverstappen1 He ain’t that sweet when you’re not around trust me

georgerussell63 THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU LANDO NORRIS

⤷ alex_albon LN4 DEFENDER 4 LIFE

lordperceval typa unconditional love i need in my life

⤷ oscars.pastry the sweet gentle love everyone deserves

sainzpoet y/n is the number 1 lando norris defender

carmenmmundt The sweetest people ever we need a double date soon 🩷

⤷ yn we love you carmen 🩷 and yes i agree i miss you so much

love4lando cause why did everyone start hating him after he started winning?? before miami it was “landos day is coming, lando we could be world champion” and when it came everyone’s like “it was luck he doesn’t deserve it, he’s not championship material, he’s so disrespectful”

⤷ yn fr like let the man breathe damn he can’t say anything without being criticized

carlossainz55 Always matching, always leaving me out 😔

⤷ yn we tried to get to to match with us and you said “no that is childish”

⤷ carlossainz55 Well sorry I didn’t want to wear an “alpha” pj onesie

⤷ yn whatever 😒

mclaren 1 of our 2 golden boys 💛

danielricciardo PAPAYA BUCKET HAT!!!!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux Sigh, I miss you 😢

⤷ yn i miss you too 😓 let’s run away to italy for a bit

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Packing my bags rn

oscarpiastri Guys this is false, I sleep in the hotel room next to them and occasionally me and lily have sleepovers with them and trust me, he is not that sweet behind close doors if you catch my drift (🍆����🍌🍒)

⤷ landonorris really osc?? you just had to let the world know y/n calls me daddy?

⤷ yn do you really want to add another person to the list of people who don’t like you?

⤷ landonorris as long as your not on that list i don’t care who else is baby 🤍

⤷ landonorris wait a minute

🝮

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1 and 3,826,815 others

landonorris my solace

yn light of my life

⤷ landonorris keeper of my heart

yn forever proud of you honey 🩷

⤷ landonorris i couldn’t do this without you

lilymhe This is really cute ig 🙄

mclaren Oh young love 🧡

⤷ all4lando shut up ho you ruined his chance for a real fight in the championship

♥︎ by author & yn

estiebestie please why did lando and y/n like that comment there so petty i love it 😭

alexandrasaintmleux So sweet 🩷🩷🩷

charles_leclerc Lando we can be world champion I said

⤷ landonorris our time will come 🥹

maxverstappen1 It was a fun season getting to battle with you mate I can’t wait for next year ❤️

⤷ landonorris me either i finally got a little taste of it, congratulations mate you deserve it you fought hard to get here ❤️

⤷ alex_albon acting like it’s abu dhabi over here

⤷ landonorris what’s that i hear?? a little bitch?? omg how crazy

⤷ alex_albon well…y/n is clearly doing a good job at cheering you up so i’m gonna go before i start crying

lewishamilton Great job mate it was amazing seeing you and Max battle it out up until here I can’t wait to see how it will go next season ❤️

⤷ landonorris thank you lewis it means a lot

⤷ alex_albon alright seriously what’s with all the sappy stuff we have two more races

⤷ charlos4eva two more races until charles and carlos part ways 💔

⤷ alex_albon way to bring down the mood charlos4eva 😒 you must be fun at parties

⤷ charlos4eva THE MOOD WAS ALREADY DOWN READ THE ROOM ALBONO

⤷ alex_albon do not yell at me charlos4eva i’ve had a bad day

⤷ charlos4eva clearly

⤷ alex_albon zont make me mad i am not the one

⤷ charlos4eva what are you gonna do? come find me? you clearly have the time cause you retired from the race early 😂

⤷ alex_albon I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN

⤷ charlos4eva oooh shiver me timbers 🥶

🝮

yn

liked by aishamian and 2,217,942 others

yn sweet lover of mine 💌

landonorris my one love

⤷ alex_albon get a load of this sap fest

⤷ landonorris i’ll feed you to a shark

danielricciardo Oh who is that handsome man 😍😍

⤷ yn let’s not

francolapinto bye guys my rides here

⤷ yn LETS NOT

georgerussell63 ho is u magical?? how are you not talking him out of jumping off a bridge right now?

⤷ carmenmmundt It’s the y/n affect George did you not pay attention to my power point presentation I worked hard on?

⤷ georgerussell63 No I was too busy thinking what I did wrong to make you love her more then me

⤷ charles_leclerc I get you so bad

⤷ pierregasly Me 2️⃣

⤷ alex_albon Me 3️⃣ 😔

⤷ carlossainz55 Me 4️⃣ 💔

⤷ estebanoncon Me 5️⃣ 🖤

⤷ oscarpiastri Me 6️⃣

⤷ maxverstappen1 Me 7️⃣

⤷ lewishamilton Me 8️⃣(😏) 😓

⤷ landonorris ???

⤷ lewishamilton Roscoe forgets about me whenever y/n is around 😔

⤷ francisca.cgomes Me 2️⃣ 😢

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Me 3️⃣ 😪

⤷ carmenmmundt I’ll telling you guys, it’s the y/n affect

⤷ landonorris wait what about the smirk though?????

⤷ lewishamilton I think you know what I mean lando cmon 😂 (🏆)

⤷ danielricciardo Me 9️⃣ 😞

⤷ danielricciardo Damn it lando you ruined it

⤷ landonorris ???????

⤷ danielricciardo Are you stupid or dumb?

⤷ landonorris ???????????????

⤷ danielricciardo y/n come put him to bed it’s past his nap time

⤷ yn awhhh come to mommy babyyy

⤷ landonorris i’m coming 😫😫

⤷ mclaren Let’s not 😊

⤷ yn let’s not ruin lando’s chance at a championship battle next season 😊

⤷ yn OMG ��� my instagram got hacked 😔 well whoever said that is very wise 👍

⤷ f1 Now y/n…

⤷ yn bite me

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial who is this DIVA💜

⤷ yn how do you know what that means?? oscar didn’t even know what that meant until last week

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial i stay woke cuhz 🤙

🝮

yn

liked by kyliejenner and 3,617,902 others

yn a little retail therapy to sooth the soul

pierregasly “a little” we didn’t even make it to the hotel before you and kika asked to go to the mall

danielricciardo Lando and his lil sugar baby

lilymhe Make his pockets hurt ❤️

oscars.pastry ik lando’s wallet is crying

⤷ landonorris didn’t even make a dent

⤷ alex_albon k me next then ☺️

⤷ landonorris no thank you all my money goes towards y/n ☺️

alexandrasaintmleux Mall dates with you two are my favorite I miss you both 🥲🩷

⤷ yn we miss you too 🥹 can’t wait to make our bfs follow us around at the mall in abu dhabi 🥰🥰

landonorris give daddy some sugar 😊

⤷ maxverstappen1 They could never make me hate you Lando

⤷ angryginge13 i’m coming daddy

⤷ landonorris yeah the only person allowed to call me daddy is the love of my life so

⤷ angryginge13 i know??

⤷ landonorris and that is not you

⤷ angryginge13 oh yeah i knew that…if someone tells you they found me crying in my room DO NOT BELIEVE THEM…

⤷ yn yeah how about we don’t talk about our sex life online for the whole world to see

⤷ georgerussell63 You’re not denying anything Ms sugar baby 👀👀

⤷ yn I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS

⤷ georgerussell63 Oh my goodness you dirty dirty girl what would your daddy think of this?

⤷ yn shut up whore

⤷ georgerussell63 You kiss your daddy with mouth?

⤷ landonorris she does a lot more then kissing if yk what i mean

⤷ yn SHUT UP FREAK

🝮

yn

liked by wolfiecindy and 1,121,053 others

yn qatar

sainzpoet she’s so over it

francisca.cgomes what a weekend

⤷ yn only reason i survived this weekend 😭

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷🩷🩷

lilymhe Missin you 😔

⤷ yn come visit 😏

⤷ lilymhe packing my bags rn 😘

⤷ alex_albon oh ok!!! 👌🙂(💔)

oscarpiastri My hero fr 🥹

⤷ sharls_licklayer why is oscar showing so much personality??

maxverstappen1 This post is very cute…

⤷ yn you and george match each others freak so well ❤️

⤷ maxverstappen1 Thank you queen…

⤷ alex_albon why is he being so ominous??

⤷ danielricciardo He’s scared of y/n

⤷ maxverstappen1 No I’m not???

⤷ danielricciardo Oh why did you text me asking if I thought sending y/n a birkin would make her less mad at you then???

⤷ maxverstappen1 I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS

🝮

yn

liked by haileybeiber and 2,516,407 others

yn don’t bug, your girls are back 🌞🌑

alexandrasaintmleux Are we about to kiss?

⤷ yn i think we are

⤷ charles_leclerc Sigh

⤷ landonorris please don’t

francisca.cgomes lindaaa 😫😫💕

⤷ yn you’re next 😈😈🫦👅 pucker up

⤷ francisca.cgomes *sprays breath spray in mouth* *puckers lips towards you*

⤷ pierregasly excuse me?

⤷ yn you’re excused

rhode beautiful smiles, i wonder what lip gloss you guys use? 🤔🤔

♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux

lilymhe a girls trip soon is a must

⤷ yn let’s go to australia after the season ends

⤷ oscarpiastri You just want to go because it’ll be summer there

⤷ yn shut up let me live

landonorris i miss you babylove

⤷ yn i miss you too sweetheart

⤷ landonorris just lit the candle of you

⤷ lewistearmeup i had a stroke trying to read that. and i still don’t understand

⤷ pierregasly Ok so basically lando is the clingy bf final boss so he had a bunch of candles made to smell like y/n so whenever she’s not with him he lights them and he takes them to gps as well

⤷ danielricciardo He set his drivers room on fire once while we were teammates

⤷ carlossainz55 He did once with me too

⤷ oscarpiastri He’s done it three times this season and twice last season and the sad thing is she hasn’t missed a single race weekend this season or last season

⤷ landonorris you guys really had to tell everyone i bring them to races?

⤷ pierregasly They deserve to know lando.

landonorris prettiest smile i’ve ever seen

⤷ estiebestie to be loved the way lando loves y/n must be so great

carmenmmundt So prettyyy 😍

⤷ yn i’m coming for you carmen 💋💋

⤷ georgerussell63 I’m not even gonna fight it anymore 😔

sharls.eclair the sun and the moon 🤍

♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux

hoeforsainzzz you two are the epitome of elegance and beauty 💐🤍

♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux

🝮

yn

liked by leahkateb and 1,655,481 others

yn abu dhabi you were so sweet 🩷 so so proud of lan & osc for all they achieved this season, definitely a season to remember

oscarpiastri 🫶🫶 thanks for all the laughs and memories can’t wait until next season

⤷ all4lando 😪😪😪😪 this is so sweet

landonorris my calm before the storm, i truly couldn’t have done this without you

mclaren Thanks for keeping lando sane this season we miss you already

♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux My paddock pard 🩷

⤷ yn ugh i can’t wait until next season march is to far

⤷ charles_leclerc We’re spending new years together?

⤷ yn charles just…okay??? gyash

francisca.cgomes my babyyy 🤍

⤷ yn my love 🙂‍↕️

landoscar481 did you just stab me

maxverstappen1 I’m so glad this season is over you scare me more then my dad

⤷ yn stay scared but congrats on the championship fr 🤍

⤷ maxverstappen1 Thanks gng 🤙🤍

⤷ kellypiquet ???

lilymhe Soooo when we going to Australia??

⤷ yn start packing 😊

⤷ lilymhe packing rn

⤷ francisca.cgomes me 2️⃣

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux me 3️⃣

⤷ carmenmmundt me 4️⃣

⤷ iamrebeccad me 5️⃣

⤷ flavy.barla me 6️⃣

⤷ lilyzneimer me 7️⃣

⤷ roscoelovescoco me 8️⃣ (😏)

⤷ landonorris ???

⤷ landonorris me 9️⃣

⤷ landonorris damn it i just ruined again

⤷ yn ???

⤷ landonorris please don’t leave me

⤷ charles_leclerc Just accept it lil bro

⤷ carlossainz55 The hurt doesn’t last forever lil bro

⤷ pierregasly Trust me lil bro it gets better over time

⤷ maxverstappen1 I’ll take care of you lil bro

⤷ oscarpiastri We’ll get through this together lil bro

⤷ alex_albon the sun will shine on us again lil bro

⤷ estebanocon It’s for the better lil bro

⤷ lewishamilton Cmon lil bro, don’t watch her leave you’ll make it worse

⤷ georgerussell63 You are not alone lil bro

⤷ yn go hold hands and cry somewhere else you’re all annoying

⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh honey

⤷ pierregasly Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed

⤷ charles_leclerc Is everything okay at home?

⤷ landonorris am i not doing good at making sweet sweet love to you?

donatella_versace Donatella VERSACE💜

[cherryw0n]

NOCTURNA — enhypen

chase atlantic inspired series

each of the seven parts is based on a chase atlantic song that provides the feeling throughout the whole story, taking you on an emotional journey and showing the real raw side of each character's struggles.

CAREFUL, this series contains some sensitive and serious topics. Read at your own risk!

CONTAINS: profanity, drug abuse, drug addiction, mental health problems, family problems, toxic relationships, organized crime, infidelity, smoking, violence, alcohol consumption, explicit sex description

MDNI!

Lee Heeseung — The Walls

pairing: dabbler!heeseung x addict!reader (afab)

synopsis: the world of intoxication and ecstasy was something you never thought could be so enchanting, so tempting. until you went spiraling into it, unable to suppress the inner cravings and strong thirst for something so forbidden but so euphoric.

"Everybody's leaning on the walls,

I don't think they're ready for the fall

Had a little, now she wanting more

Told her that I gotta make some calls"

read here

Park Jay — Moonlight

pairing: downbad!jay x grumpy!reader (afab)

synopsis: having a pain in the ass at your heels all the time was not on your bucket-list for this semester. but still he was chasing you, not giving up even if you said it to his face, every time.

"Busy on the weekend

Caught up in your own small world

Well, I might wanna see it then

Call it hesitation, girl"

read here

Sim Jake — DEVILISH

pairing: toxic!jake x toxic!reader (afab)

synopsis: the relationship was falling apart, no thing could salvage the damage it faced, not when you keep drifting from him every chance you get and he is always up for the payback.

"Devilish, fucking with my guys, yuh

I make sacrifices you make lies up

Heaven lost an angel when I signed up

I might fuck your friend, I made my mind up"

read here

Park Sunghoon — OHMAMI

pairing: druglordsson!sunghoon x frutera!reader (afab)

synopsis: fast and luxurious lifestyle wasn't anything spectacular to sunghoon, and it can't be when he grew up bathing in it's glory. who knew that just by stopping at the random frutería in puerto vallarta would be the moment he spotted his next target, you.

"Ooh, Mami, I got blue molly

I throw Louis V, Supreme on top of Murakami

Bitch, I'm fuckin' styling, yeah

I might say I love her, but I'm lying, yeah-ah-ah"

read here

Kim Sunoo — Tidal Wave

pairing: boyfriendsfriend!sunoo x friendsgirlfriend!reader (afab)

synopsis: he shouldn't be doing this. you shouldn't be doing this. you both can't be doing this, but the tension and connection was something you didn't feel with anyone before, not even with your own boyfriend — but his friend was there to make up for it.

"Throw another stone at a glass house

He might kick my ass if he finds out

I don't wanna share, it's a damn shame

I'll still play it fair, won't drop no names"

read here

Yang Jungwon — Right Here

pairing: desperate!jungwon x done!reader (afab)

synopsis: you were done. done with this empty game of leading on. he was like that, everyone told you but you didn't listen, only ended up being hurt and feeling like the only right thing you could do was finally walk away, and you did just that. but he was not done yet.

"It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends,

I'm right here"

read here

Nishimura Riki — Numb To The Feeling

pairing: addict!riki x goodgirl!reader (afab)

synopsis: who knew that the accidental encounter in a campus library would be such a turning point in your life. was is destiny? or something else?

"I need you to show me love

'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah

I need you to ride me harder when we fuck

'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, whoa"

read here

! this is all work of fiction. in no way this is a representation of enhypen members nor do I believe this is how they behave in real life or condone these actions!

©cherryw0n

[dwaekkicidal]

"Heats" with Bunny!Lee Know

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 2 of my Bboki-Dwae collab with @bbokicidal <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~900

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader but theres pregnancy mentions in the last two quotes at the very very end of this post, constant mentions of breeding, 1 mention of a spank, overstimulation, some cum talk, using another person's clothes+scent to get off, this last one is marked with "⚠" but 1 mention of being forced down with a foot on ur head lol

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

❥ Has no real heat cycle, at least not an obvious one, since male rabbits are always ready to breed year-round.

❥ That being said, he will be very obsessive about breeding you from the very beginning of the year, usually February or March, all the way to September. You both quickly come to learn that it is because of rabbit's mating season! Which explains why he's constantly insatiable during this time frame and will usually want to go multiple rounds a day, every single day if you'll allow it.

❥ He cums super fast sometimes, so oral is not an option in his mind. He will taste you at least 3 times a day and he'll dig his nails into your thighs if you start trying to squirm away from overstimulation.

❥ Once he's got his fill and he's sure you've enjoyed yourself, he’s wasting no time to flip you onto your hands and knees. It’s his favorite position!! something something "Best for me to breed you thoroughly"

❥ He’s gonna keep your hole nice and stuffed while he roughs you around for as many rounds as he deems sufficient enough for his seed to take. (Spoiler: it's NEVER enough for him)

❥ And if he’s that deep in, that he’s giving in to his more 'primal' side, then you will be at it for hours before his mushy little brain pushes past the chants of “breed. breed. breed.” and remembers that you’re, in fact, a human and need a second to breathe.

❥ He quite literally does not care if you physically can not get pregnant... You not having the means to get pregnant or simply being on birth control will never stop him from talking or thinking about breeding you. If anything, he finds it even hotter because his minds convinces him that "If we try hard enough.."

❥ You don’t need lube when he has almost disgusting amounts of precum/cum leaking from his tip <3 So much so that you now have a towel drawer in your nightstand

❥ Much to his human side’s dismay, and to his rabbit side’s joy, he will cum buckets every 2nd time. Meaning that once that second round of the day is hitting, prepare to literally overflow due to the sheer amount of cum his heavy balls will pump into you.

❥ Oh, and don’t even think about letting any of it go to waste. The second a singular drop of his cum falls past the midpoint of your thigh, he is racing to shove it back inside where it belongs.

❥ Depending on how deep into this “headspace” he is he might even growl, which always comes out as a huff, and land a warning slap to your ass cheek. Loves to combine it with some crude comment (like the very first quote at the end of this post)

❥ If he’s reaally really into it he will mount you as best as he physically can: If you’re in a position similar to missionary, you’re getting shoved into a mating press and held in place. Or if you’re in a position similar to doggy style, you’re getting shoved flat into the sheets so he can straddle the backs of your thighs and spread your cheeks while he watches himself fuck into your tight hole <3

⚠ You didn't hear this from me but if he's particularly insatiable & has lost himself to his instincts, he may or may not hold you down with his foot on the back of your head while you're in downward doggy. This is so he can force you to sit still and fuck your brains out so that you stay pliant for him until he's ready to take a break <3 In this position, he fucks you soo much more aggressively/rougher than ever before so prepare to not be able to walk for a bit hehe

Now, let’s say he goes through one of these “mating season” fits while you’re nowhere near. Maybe in another country or state for whatever reason and there’s no possibility that you and him can reunite anytime soon.

❥ He WILL try to breed hump everything that smells like you. From using your towel(s) to tug one out all the way to humping your favorite spot on the couch until his dick is raw.

❥ This also means he will throw one of your clothes (cough 90% of the time is your worn underwear cough) onto a pillow and will rub his cock against it until he dirties it even more.

❥ But, he is a good boy. So he won’t be gross and leave his cum to seep into your clothes until you come home. He’ll be good and thoroughly clean whatever he lost his mind on and definitely will get horny again in the process

❥ You let him think he’s gotten away with it, but in reality? He cums so much that some stains just don’t go away…

Well... that and you leaving a semi-filled laundry basket just to come home to an empty basket and suspiciously clean clothes always gives him away.

“Tell this ungrateful, little hole to take what it's given and stop wasting.”

“Jagi- Fuck. Jagiya, stop wiggling so much. The deeper I am, the better I can breed you.”

"I need to cum- God, please, baby- you haveta' take it all. You owe me for being so fucking tight and wasting all my cum."

“If you keep spilling, I’ll have no choice but to fuck another couple of loads into you, Honey.”

"You're gonna be so fucking sexy, all nice and round with my kits in your tummy. Yeah? Right fucking here." As he puts his palm on your lower stomach 🥴

"Yeah? You're gonna give me a litter? Gonna have our babies runnin' around my parent's house while I stuff you full with even more of them."

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[prettymfwrites]

Wifey🤰🏾💍

Mom Paige bueckers x influencer mom female reader

Summary: You and Paige are married and have three kids... Which as quickly become a running joke.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The cozy hum of family life filled the kitchen as you set your phone up against the countertop for an impromptu Instagram Live. Parker was perched on your hip, her chubby hands fiddling with the strap of your tank top as her big brown eyes darted around with curiosity. Her soft coos melted your heart as you adjusted the angle of the phone, your face lighting up when the viewers started rolling in.

“Alright, y’all, don’t come for me about how tired I look,” you teased, glancing at the comments scrolling quickly on the screen. “This is mom life, okay? Three kids in five years. I’m running on iced coffee and vibes at this point.”

Parker gurgled, and you kissed her cheek softly. “Parker says hi, by the way. Say hi, baby,” you encouraged, lifting her tiny hand to wave at the screen.

The comments were already flying in:

“Y’all had another kid?!”

“At this point, Paige needs to chill.”

“Mama stays busy fr.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, y’all love dragging Paige. She’s somewhere around here, probably eating something she didn’t ask me if she could have.”

Right on cue, you felt familiar arms slide around your waist from behind. Paige’s taller frame towered over you, and you felt her chin rest lightly on top of your head. She pressed close, her warmth immediately grounding you.

“There she is,” you said, laughing softly as the comments exploded. “And here comes the culprit.”

Parker lit up when she spotted Paige, letting out an excited squeal. Paige peeked down at the baby, grinning ear to ear. “Hi, Mama,” she cooed, her voice soft and playful as Parker reached out for her.

“Here, take her,” you said, passing Parker to Paige, who immediately kissed her baby’s cheek. The sight made your chest warm. Seeing Paige with your kids always hit you in a special way.

“Look at these two,” you said to the camera, your voice tinged with affection. “They look like twins.”

Paige stayed behind you, holding Parker with one arm while keeping the other securely around your waist. Her grip was gentle yet firm, a silent reminder of how much she adored you. You glanced at a comment that caught your eye.

“Let us see the nails.”

“Oh, okay!” you said, holding up your hand to the camera. Your fresh set gleamed, and the delicate cursive "P" on your ring nail caught the light. “What do y’all think? I wanted something simple this time.”

Before you could pull your hand away, Paige leaned closer, pointing at the nail. “Y’all see this? This my baby. My wife. That ‘P’ don’t stand for anyone but me,” she declared proudly.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Buckets. You know they know I’m yours.”

Paige smirked, her free arm snaking back around your waist to pull you even closer. The comments started to get even more chaotic:

“Paige, get off her!”

“Doctor, it’s loose again!”

“Sis can’t breathe, let her go.”

“Okay, so y’all thinking boy or girl for the next one?”

Paige laughed loudly, leaning her forehead against the back of your head. “If y’all had a woman like this, you wouldn’t be able to stay off her either. Be real.”

You turned your head to give her a side-eye. “Paige, don’t start.”

“Oh, I’ve been started,” she teased, pressing a series of soft kisses on your shoulder. Parker babbled happily in her arms, as if agreeing with her mama.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, your heart full in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. Turning your attention back to the live, you read aloud one more comment: “Seriously, Paige, leave the poor woman alone!”

“Y’all act like I don’t love this,” you said, smiling knowingly. “I married her for a reason, didn’t I?”

Paige grinned behind you, placing another kiss on your shoulder. “You sure did. You stuck with me now, baby.”

I take requests! 💋 also leave a comment I love to hear from y'all

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @stobinmonth and @corrodedcoffinfest.

It's Tradition

Stobin Month Prompt: Tradition & CCF Spring Break Prompt: Beach | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | POV: Robin | Pairing: Platonic Stobin, Steddie | CW: Mentions of Recreation Drug/Alcohol Use, Steve's Neglectful Parents | Tags: Childhood Friends AU, Reuniting

It's tradition. The annual week-long Buckley family trip to the beach. A highlight of the year, until her parents made it clear they didn't want to go anymore.

All good things must come to an end. 

They just couldn't understand Robin didn't want to go somewhere new. That Robin didn't want it to end. That she needed to go to the same house, on the same beach, where she spent a week each year of her childhood. 

That she wanted to go where she last saw Steve. At least one more time.

Even though Steve hasn't been there the last six years her family visited, and she heard the Harrington house sold when his parents divorced. That's the gossip around this small coastal town, anyway.

Either way, the Harringtons are long gone, taking Steve with them.

But he was the best friend she's ever had, and turning up for a week every spring and getting to see him was a staple of her childhood.

So, with her summer job savings she rented the same house her family always did, and sits on the screened-in porch.

Harrington's old house definitely doesn't have Steve in it, instead a family with a bunch of little kids that are loving their time on the water. On the other side, there's a rowdy group, loud at all hours, but closer to her age. She watches them, trying to not be sad that this last attempt was a bust. 

One of the guys is currently swinging his girlfriend around in circles as she screams, delighted. Two others are making s'mores. And the long-haired one is running around in circles like a maniac. Harassing his friends on a loop. At least they're having fun. She's seen them drink, smoke weed, and poke at a bonfire.

This was stupid. It's been six years, of course he was never coming back. He probably doesn't even remember her. She was just some girl that turned up once a year for a week at a time.

She hears another car pull up behind the house next door, and their place has been grand central station. This time it's another dark-haired guy that the long-haired one is immediately pawing at, much to the complaints of the others.

Then, the newcomer turns and looks towards her house. 

Steve.

At least, she thinks that's Steve. He just grew up. Has a better haircut.

Robin feels frozen to the porch swing, unsure if he can see her or not. If he'll even remember her if he can.

"Robin?!" he yells, then comes darting across the sand. She stands, crosses the porch and throws open the door.

She barely makes it out onto the deck before she's wrapped up in a big hug, "Robin Buckley! I didn't think, I mean, I knew it was a long shot when I rented this other house, but it's you! You're you!"

She's her. And he's him. She starts to cry. She really never thought she'd see him again.

"Robin's here!" Steve yells and the rest of them cheer, like they were totally in on this as a possibility. 

He didn't forget.

He wanted to see her too.

Later, after all the introductions have been made, Robin joins them around the fire they've built. Eddie, Steve's boyfriend, and boy was she delighted to find that out, is in a band and have finally made enough for a real vacation.

Steve planned for it to be here, over spring break, hoping to see her.

Jeff is picking out a soft tune on his guitar, and they are all razzing him, saying it's not metal enough, but before long, two more guitars are fetched from the house and Gareth's beating on an upside down bucket. Diana in the sand, resting her head against his thigh, seemingly unconcerned with the flailing of his arms.

Trusting he won't hit her. 

The music's a little aggressive, but they blend well. 

Steve leans into Robin's side, explaining, "They're a heavy metal band."

"They're good at this," she says. She can't believe this is really Steve. It feels like they haven't missed a day.

"And they know it, despite the bitching. Don't let them fool you, they aren't that cool. They did a bit of wedding band gigging early on to make ends meet."

She giggles, delighted by the image of that.

"I like Eddie," she says.

"I was kinda worried you'd, like, disapprove."

"Hello? I like girls, dingus. I figured that was always obvious."

"Not that obvious," he says, and she laughs. He was never the most observant kid on earth.

"Where'd you wind up, you just disappeared?" she asks.

"Boarding school," he answers, and she reaches over and squeezes his hand.

"I'm sorry," she says, and she is. 

"Well, it made me into a boy kisser," he teases, and she leans on his shoulder, and giggles.

"It did not."

"It didn't, but it may have put jumper cables on my bisexual awakening."

She smiles, "Are you happy now?"

And Steve looks over at Eddie, riffing back and forth with his band, "Very."

Robin smiles, "He's kinda feral."

"Well, that's his best quality," Steve teases, adding, "They're playing in a bar down the beach tomorrow night. I hope you'll come."

She nods. She'll go anywhere he wants her to this week, as long as she gets to see Steve again.

The next night, Steve's walking around the small venue, and she realizes he's somehow in charge of this dog and pony show. Robin sits at a table with Diana, and waits for the band to get started.

Robin can see Eddie and Gareth jumping up and down, just off-stage, bumping chests.

Diana rolls her eyes, but she's clearly fond, "It's tradition. I don't ask questions."

Robin likes traditions. Finds comfort in them.

And as Corroded Coffin is announced, Steve settles in the wings where she can see him. He grew up. They both did, and now she hopes they can make new traditions with friends, together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

For more Stobin, pop on over to @stobinmonth to follow along with the fun!

[randomxreaders]

‘Paige Bueckers wsp w you?’ Pt.2

Warnings-

Mentions of alcohol, swearing, reader being called girl, mama and, she/her pronouns, not proofread :/

1.4k work count

—————————————————————————

She did not. You were used to people sliding in your dms at this point but not your crush shooting her shot. You sit there and stare at the message trying to process that this is real and not a dream when you see bubbles popping up….she’s typing and then nothing. Shit. You quickly shoot her back a reply “Wouldn’t you like to know;)” You sit there waiting for a reply after being left on delivered for two minutes you put the phone down sighing as your cat jumps up onto your lap. “Junebug what did I get myself into” you say as the little cat rolls up into a fluffy ball on your lap. Right as she settles you hear the phone ringing, its Terry calling back, “Ok Y/n the team and I think that moving forward the best move is to let things run its course on its own. Deleting the video will just make it bigger as of now and moving forward if asked about it in interviews we just want to you acknowledge maybe give a compliment and move on.” Terry advises you. “Okay I can do that thank you so much Terry I’m sorry for the stress I’ve caused today” Y/n says full on sincerity. “It’s all good Y/n/n you’re still my favorite client, talk to you tomorrow” “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone and start to get ready for bed.

Paige’s POV

After a long practice all I needed was to relax especially before the rest I’ve the team came over for our Fortnite marathon.

Paige throws down her basketball bag and gets into the shower washing off her stress from practice. As she gets out and changes into some sweats and a tank top she sees she got a text:

lil rah

“P have you seen this?”

She clicks the link and sees a TikTok. She sees the text pop up on the screen “Paige Bueckers wsp w you?” Paige was very familiar with the girl in the video, Y/n Y/l/n the two time Grammy winner and beautiful musician.

Paige texts Sarah back

Paige

“Is this real? Lmao”

Sarah

“Seems pretty real to me”

“you needa text her Ik you have a lil crush on her”

“Shoot your shot Paige buckets”

Paige lets out a chuckle and opens instagram tapping on your account in her search. “Hey Y/n wassup with you.” After seeing you texted her back she decided to let you sweat a lil and clean up some before the rest of the team came over before opening the message.

Paige leans up against her counter deciding it’s been long enough and opens your message. “Wouldn’t you like to know;)” She smirks at the message and sends back “Well i kinda need to know if your free before I try to ask you out”

Y/n POV

Shut the hell up. Ask me out? This can’t be real life right now. You blink a few times staring at the message and the another one pops up “Call me?” With her number sent next. WHAT. You the number and press call a little too fast and hear the phone ring-ring- “So are you free?” You hear her voice through the phone. She sounds as smooth as a whiskey. You take a deep breath “for you?….always.”

The back and forth with Paige came almost too naturally. The way you guys bounced jokes back and forth, but all good things must come to an end. You hear the knock over the phone “aw shit I’m sorry ma I forgot the team was coming over” she said sighing. “Aw it’s okay Paige have fun with your team you guys deserve it, we’ll talk later”

“We definitely will, make sure you save my number”

“I will, bye Paige”

“Bye Y/n”

After hanging up the phone you do a lap around the room “OH MY GODDDDD” you run in and jump onto your bed. Minutes later you hear a knock at your door. You walk out of your bedroom, through your living room to the front door. “Y/n I know your home I have your location” You knew the all too familiar voice instantly, it was your best friend Amari. You open the door and see her in a cute black dress that looked like one you’d been looking for last weekend. “Is that my dress?” “Okay hi to you too Ms.Bueckers” “STOP. You saw it?”

“Girl who hasn’t seen it and I already knew about your little crush anyways”

“I have to tell you something”

“Okayyy you can tell me while we get you dressed we’re going out.”

Amari lays out an outfit for you while you tell her all about you and Paige texting and then about your phone call.

“Sooo you guys are definitely gonna get together now right” Amari says laying out the last of your outfit on the bed.

“No we just talked about you know my music and her basketball, then just random stuff then she had to go, nothing crazy okay”

“Whatever you say Y/n now get dressed.”

You look at the outfit that Amari laid out for you a black lace body suit with low rise baggy jeans and black heels. After getting dressed you and Amari take a few pictures in the mirror before leaving and getting in the car.

You drive the both of you to your favorite hole in wall bar ‘The Silver Stir.’ You find yourselves sitting at the bar when you see that Amari tagged you in her instagram story of both of you posed in the mirror, you repost it then slip your phone into your pocket as Amari drags you to the dance floor. A few hours later you find yourself sitting back at the bar watching Amari dancing with a guy she found. You’d it at the bar scrolling through your phone when you see that Paige had texted you.

Paige

“You look good tonight”

You smile sending back

“I look better in person”

You look up seeing Amari stumbling towards you and you know it’s time to take her home. You walk her out to the car and buckle her into the seat. Once you make it back to your apartment you tuck her into the guest bedroom that may as well be hers and leave her some ibuprofen and a glass of water for when she wakes up.

Now that you weren’t the DD anymore you decided to make a drink after your very long day. After digging through the fridge and cabinet you decide to make a lychee martini. You prop up your phone deciding to go live on your finsta which has a significantly lower following than your main account. You apologize to Terry in your mind in advance. You pull the ingredients out and place them on the counter. As people start joining the live you start explaining the drink you’re going to make. Doing lives and trying to connect with your audience is and will continue to be important to you no matter how many times you embarrass yourself. “Hi y’all! I’m back for another live and we’re gonna make a lychee martini before bedtime.” You skim some of the comments as they start coming through, about half of them are about Paige and the other half are about your album. “The album is in progress guys I’m we’re still working on some features I hope you guys like it when it comes out.”

‘we saw that TikTok mama’

‘did we find out wsp w Paige orr?’

‘okkkkk fitted up frr’

‘need your makeup routine rnnn’

*KK Arnold request to join your live*

The last pop up definitely peaked your interest, you think a few seconds before hitting accept. The screen glitches for a second then you see KK standing in what looks to be a dorm type room “HEY GIRL POPS” KK yells, you let out a laugh “Hi KK what’s up” While you had never actually met KK you obviously knew of her and had been mutuals on instagram for about a year now. “Nothing right now girl we’re waiting on our Crumbl cookie we ordered”

“I thought yall were playing Fortnite”

“And what little birdie told you that Y/n”

You both let out laughs and send each other knowing looks.

“KK who are you talking to” you hear in the background. You knew that voice. “P! Did you get the Crumbl cookies” “Yes yes” she says walking into the room, Ice and Sarah following close behind. You step out of frame and grab a chilled glass for your martini and hear Paige ask KK who she’s on live with. “Just our girl Y/n, you know.” You step into the camera and wave “hi guyss.”

[sunnysdiary]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Paper Rings : Taylor swift

'I like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings.' (Click the link for the song!!)

Your boyfriend, Jeongin, always teases you with paper rongs until one day he actually proposes when you least expect it.

1.3k words/fluffy fluffy fluffffyyyy/ bf!Jeongin

A/N: ugh, this took FOREVER to write. first part of the music to my eyes series :)

Music to My Eyes masterlist

If there were two things your darling boyfriend, Jeongin, was known for, his teasing attitude and relentless pranks. His personal favorite? Pretending to propose—because he knew it scared the hell out of you every time.

He’d tell you to dress up, take you on romantic dates—candlelit dinners, garden strolls, lakeside picnics—anything to set the mood. And without fail, at the end of the night, he’d drop to one knee. But instead of a real ring, it was always a paper one. By now, you had an entire jar filled with them: three years’ worth of his playful antics, intertwined with the love you shared.

Tonight, you were curled up in your apartment, the lights low as yet another cheesy romance movie played on the screen. Your phone buzzed beside you.

Innie <3 lit up the display in bright colors.

Grinning, you picked up. “Is this my boyfriend?” you teased, amusement dripping from your voice.

“No, it’s the FBI. I need your credit card information,” he deadpanned, the smile in his voice unmistakable.

“Wrong number, then,” you shot back, matching his teasing tone.

“Baby,” he started, his voice shifting into something softer, more serious. “What if I told you that for our fourth anniversary, I got us plane tickets to London?”

Your heart nearly stopped. London—the one place left on your bucket list.

“If this is a joke, Jeongin, it’s not funny,” you warned, fully expecting him to burst out laughing. But he didn’t. Instead, he hummed lightly.

“I booked the tickets last month. Check your email.”

Without hesitation, you pulled the phone away from your ear, switching to speaker mode as you opened your inbox. And there it was, buried among the sea of spam and discount codes—a confirmation email for two plane tickets to London.

“Jeongin, you are unreal!” you squealed, barely containing your excitement. If you could have leaped through the phone and kissed him, you would have. “This means the world to me!”

His sweet chuckle filled your ears, warm and familiar. To him you were his world. “We leave the weekend of the fifth. That’s next week.”

You shot up from your spot on the couch, already mentally planning your outfits. “Okay, I love you so much! Are we still going out to dinner tomorrow?” you asked, grinning like an idiot.

“Wouldn’t miss it, my love. I love you more,” he murmured through the speaker before hanging up.

On the other end of the call, Jeongin leaned back setting his phone on his lap, spinning a small, real ring between his index finger and thumb. “Way more,” he whispered to himself.

Packing Night: The week of the trip, you were absolutely bubbling with excitement. Jeongin came over to help you pack the night before, of course armed with his signature prank. When you reached for another pair of shorts, he dropped to one knee and pulled a paper ring from his pocket.

“My dearest Y/N Y/LN,” he gazed up at you, eyes teasing but soft with love. “Will you be my wife?”

You scoffed, trying to sound sarcastic—though your face said everything. “Yes, Innie, I will marry you.” You held out your hand and let him slip the smooth paper onto your finger.

He rose, hands finding their familiar place on your waist, and kissed you. His kisses were perfect—warm like a summer day, intense like a blizzard, soft and velvety. You could have stayed like that all night.

“I love you so much, my love,” you whispered, your body melting under his sweet touches and even sweeter words.

You finally pried away and finished packing, setting your suitcase by the door next to his.

“The flight is at 5:00 AM tomorrow, right?” you asked, sitting on the bed with your knees drawn up.

He hummed. “I’ll wake you at 4:30. Is that okay?”

You nodded and lay down. “That should be fine, Innie.” You closed your eyes, sleep pulling you under.

You felt his arms wrap around you and heard him murmur, “Good night,” kissing the top of your head.

Departure Day: At 4:30 AM, his alarm roused you. You both dressed quickly—no shower, just a change into comfortable clothes—and trudged to his car, loading your bags into the trunk.

At TSA, Jeongin sighed, “What would happen if I just ran toward the gate?”

“You’d get arrested. Please don’t.” You smiled as the agent scanned your passports.

Once on the plane, you settled into your seats. “Okay, you ready for five days of fun?” he asked, a small smile on his face. You nodded.

Day 1: After an agonizing twelve‑hour flight, you arrived and headed to the hotel to rest.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to just…” you trailed off, plopping onto the bed with a soft sigh. “Finally.”

While you showered, Jeongin lay on the bed, the real ring dancing between his fingers. He whispered your name like a prayer to his lips.

The rest of the day was spent napping and scrolling through social media—both of you exhausted and in love. All the while, Jeongin’s nerves grew; the proposal loomed closer.

Day 2: The day of your anniversary: Morning and afternoon passed much the same—lying in bed, loving on each other. At night, Jeongin took you to a nice restaurant for dinner.

All through the meal, he repeated, “I love you,” over and over.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he whispered against your lips for the millionth time in the last hour. Then he kissed you, gently shoving you onto the bed.

“I’m going to marry you one day,” you said, eyes sparkling with love and passion.

Little did you know that day was closer than you thought.

Day 3: You woke to find Jeongin asleep beside you. You peppered kisses across his face until his eyes fluttered open.

“Morning, pretty.”

“Good morning.”

You went for breakfast at a small café you’d stumbled across.

“Iced matcha?” he asked while you waited in line.

You nodded. He knew you so well.

After breakfast, you wandered through small shops until you found a clothing boutique. You tried on countless dresses before settling on a light‑blue, knee‑length frock with delicate shoulder straps.

You stepped out of the dressing room. Jeongin’s eyes snapped up from his phone.

“Wow. You’re the most gorgeous girl in the world.”

“Oh, please,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks.

“Seriously. Want it?” You nodded.

“Then take it off, and I’ll pay for it.”

He smiled. “It’s expensive—are you sure?”

“Completely.”

Day 4: The Proposal: Jeongin woke up jittery with nerves. He showered, trying to wash them away. You woke shortly after and ordered breakfast to the room.

“We could go on a hike?” you suggested, scrolling on your phone.

“How about we just walk around for a while? You can wear your new dress,” he said, nodding.

You smiled. “Sounds good!”

You showered, and he paced the room. “You make me the happiest—no, that’s dumb.” He bit at his nails. “Um…Y/N…” He crashed onto the bed with a soft thud just as you emerged from the bathroom.

“Baby, can you grab my makeup bag?” you asked, towel wrapped around you.

He handed it over. A few minutes later, you stepped into the room in your blue dress, hair curled, makeup perfect.

“Wow, you’re just…” he paused, eyes shining. “Wow.”

You laughed and walked over, hands resting on his chest. “Thank you, my love. Now come on!”

You spent the day wandering London’s streets and sights. Jeongin clung to you, buying you whatever you wanted, nerves prickling every moment.

Early evening found you in front of the London Eye.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he stopped you.

“Mhm?” you turned, soft smile on your face.

He took a breath, lower lip caught between his teeth. “Y/N, you make me the happiest man in the world. You’re my everything. You’re what makes me happy, and I want that for the rest of my life.”

He sank to one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Thinking it was another paper ring, you teased, “That’s twice in a week you’re really—” Your voice caught as you saw the real ring gleam at you. “Innie,” you gasped, tears brimming your eyes.

“Please give me an answer,” he chuckled.

“Yes! Yes! A billion times yes!”

From that moment on, you knew he was your soulmate.

[darksigns-exe]

crave - noah sebastian x f!reader

warnings: unprotected intercourse, first times, swearing

word count: 3.4k

notes: So last week during hot boy hours we talked about first times with Nicky and a dear anon requested a first time with Noah. I hope that I interpreted your ask correctly if not pls yell at me (gently) thank you bye <33

masterlist | taglist sign-up

Every time he hears his friends talk about the girls they’ve picked up, it makes him want to crawl out of his skin a little bit. 

With how swarmed he is, you’d think that he’s long ticked that point off the bucket list. 

But he’s just never found the right moment — or person. 

The few times he’s come close to being with someone like that, it always felt as if that was the only thing they wanted from him. And maybe that’s a little cynical or conceited. He’s a gentleman, though, so he’ll send them home with an orgasm and a promise of next time. 

A next time they both know will never come. 

And then he’s suddenly twenty-eight, and it feels like something he should have done ten years ago. 

With how busy the band is, Noah doesn’t feel as if he could do a serious relationship justice, and so intimacy moves to the very bottom of his list of priorities. 

It’s not until the band is between albums again that he allows himself to even forge connections outside the band again. 

He’s treating himself to a trip to the bookshop in an attempt to get out of the post tour rut he’s been in. No real aim or goal, just an attempt to get out of the house for a little bit and to – maybe – find something new to fill his brain with. 

And that’s where he meets you, browsing the science fiction section. For a bit, he lurks, watches if you’re with someone, before he builds up the courage to ask if you have a recommendation for him. It feels a little awkward to ask a total stranger how they feel about a book, but Noah’s determined to try. At least then, he can tell his therapist that he tried his best. 

Before he knows it, you’ve been talking for an hour, and he just doesn’t want it to stop. The conversation just keeps flowing from one thing to another, and Noah finds himself pulled in by your warmth. For once, he feels brave enough to ask if you’d like to exchange numbers – so that he can tell you if he liked the book as much as you did.  

His heart thumps a little when he sees that you’ve saved your name with that little sparkle emoji in his phone. 

A few days later, you show up at his place with a stack of books that you promised to lend him. He asks if you’d like to stay for a coffee, just because he doesn’t want to let you go again so soon. 

It’s entirely innocent. 

Noah genuinely just enjoys spending time with you. It feels good to have a friend who’s not involved with the band or music in general. He likes hearing about your work gossip, about the recipes you’ve tried recently, the puppy your friend recently picked up from a local shelter. 

It feels normal, grounded – and maybe that’s exactly what he needed. 

It becomes a regular thing after that. Jolly jokingly calls your meetings the saddest book club he’s ever seen. 

Noah doesn’t know when his heart starts beating a little bit faster when he sees you. It’s not in a nervous way, he’s just – happy. And he’s sure that your eyes linger on him a little bit longer, too. 

Noah really notices it for the first time when he’s over at your place for a night of movies and pizza that you prescribed him as a change from what he usually gets up. He suddenly doesn’t mind the lingering touches and looks. And he finds himself hoping that you’ll rest your head on his shoulder like you sometimes do. 

And when you do, he has to give himself a little pep talk before he manages to convince himself that draping his arm over your shoulder is okay. He relaxes a little when you sink further against him. 

Feeling so comfortable around another person is a little new. Noah’s not exactly used to letting his walls down around people he hasn’t known since the dawn of time. But it feels right to let you in. 

The touches slowly increase and Noah finds himself craving proximity to you more and more. He hasn’t known himself to be someone who sought out intimacy like that before, but now he can’t wait to see you and to get comfy with you somewhere. 

You meet for regular movie nights after a while. Sometimes you end up at his place, even though Noah seems to be a little bit more reserved around his friends. He’s still close, but not nearly as close as he’d be in the privacy of your home. 

You’re getting a bowl of popcorn ready, while Noah tells you about the show he’s picked for you to watch. 

“I can’t believe that you’ve never seen it.” Noah says, hopping up onto the counter next to you. 

“Just never got around to it.” You shrug, “It’s been on my watch list, though.”

You pop a piece of popcorn into your mouth. Noah lets out a protesting huff, as he crosses his arms like a petulant child. 

You roll your eyes in jest, before you hold a piece out to him. He leans in, allowing you to feed it to him. Inadvertently, your fingers brush against his lips, and you swear that you feel a little zap of electricity. 

Noah looks down at you with a softness that you’re still not used to. You’ve noticed it a few times already. You can’t quite tell with him if this is just how he looks at people he keeps close. 

It almost feels like the moment before a kiss. The tension is there, and you can feel yourself gravitating towards him. 

Noah opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but he quickly closes it again when one of his roommates enters the kitchen, loudly dropping a bag of groceries onto the counter. 

“You two got plans for today?” Jolly asks, as if he hasn't just walked in on you getting closer and closer. 

Noah snaps out of it quicker than you do. 

“Someone’s never seen Hill House, and we have to remedy that.” He explains, “We’ll see how many episodes we get through before it becomes too scary.”

You like this little back and forth you have with him. It’s familiar, comfortable. And most importantly, it makes you smile. 

Jolly pulls a face that makes you think that he was expecting a different answer from Noah. You try your best to ignore how warm it makes your face feel. 

There’s a tense moment of silence in the room, before Jolly makes his departure, muttering something about you keeping it PG as he wanders out of the room again. 

You later find out that a group of them is heading out to get dinner together, meaning that you and Noah will be the only ones in the house. 

Eventually, you find your way upstairs, settling against the headboard while Noah sets everything up. 

The scene is almost a little domestic.

Occasionally, you let yourself wonder what it’d be like if you were more than friends. But then you remember Noah saying that he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship at the moment and shove it to the very back of your mind again. This friendship isn’t worth the risk. You’d rather have this than nothing at all with him. 

Noah settles next to you, letting out a content sigh. 

“Ready?” 

When you nod, he presses start and leans back against the headboard. As soon as he’s settled, you drop your head to his shoulder. Over the course of the first episode, you relax further and further against him, until you’re eventually curled against his side. His arm is snaked around your back, hand resting at your waist, keeping you close to his side. Whenever the show gets a little bit too spooky for you, you use the opportunity to hide your face against his chest, and maybe you’re playing it up a little bit.

You let your eyes wander away from the screen. Truth be told, you haven’t given the show your full attention. The way his hand rests against your waist, the slow rise and fall of his chest – it’s all been too distracting. 

You look up at Noah, only to find him already looking at you. His lips quip up in a little smile, and it makes you feel all warm inside. You’re not sure who of you initiates it, but a moment later you feel his lips on yours, and it feels a little as if everything has been leading up to this moment. 

The show becomes background noise, as you get lost in the kiss you share. You soon find yourself straddling his lap. His hands are firm on your waist, digging into your flesh almost painfully. 

“Noah?” you ask, barely moving away from him. 

He looks at you then, eyes blown wide. 

“Are you – nervous?” 

The flush that creeps over his cheeks is almost endearing if it weren’t for the underlying insinuation that comes with it. 

“You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.” You bring your hand to the side of his face, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves a little bit, “We’re not doing anything big.” 

He grumbles out a few quiet words that are swallowed up by the sound of the show still flickering over the TV behind you.

“You gotta speak up a little.” you say, inching a little closer to him. 

“It is big. You’re you and I haven’t you know ever, and don’t get me wrong, I want this with you – I just don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t want you to think less of me or –” 

You let him ramble on for a moment longer, before you interrupt him with a soft kiss. 

“It’s just me, Noah. I don’t mind it if you haven’t done this before. Doesn’t change a thing about — how I feel about you.”

“You really don’t mind?” 

“Why would I?” you ask, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, “You didn’t care that I’ve never seen this show either. It’s just a thing you haven’t done, like skydiving.” 

“You make it sound so easy.”

The cynical little chuckle that weaves itself between his words makes your chest ache a little, and you wonder if people have given him a hard time about this before. 

“I promise you that it’s okay. It’s just a thing.”

For a moment, his eyes flit across your face, seemingly searching for something. 

“Would you – with me?” 

You’ve never seen him be this shy about anything before. Even when someone had mistakenly referred to you as a cute couple he hadn’t looked this hesitant. 

“Are you asking me if I’d sleep with you?” you can’t hide the smile that plays on your lips then. 

“I mean if you want that with me. I don’t know if this is where –” 

“Do you think I make out with all of my friends like this?” 

He mumbles something vague about not wanting to assume anything, but you quickly shut him up with another kiss. 

“You just tell me what feels good and what doesn’t, okay?” he gives a quick nod is in response. 

You return your lips to his after that. Noah’s hands remain at your waist, and you can sense the hesitation in him. To make things easier for him, you guide his hands under the hem of your shirt. You copy the touch, hoping that it’ll show him that it’s okay for him to let his hands wanderer a little. 

He gasps so sweetly when you trail your lips along his jaw and towards his neck. His fingers dig into your skin, and you decide that now is the time to pull your shirt off. Noah uses the moment of separation to remove his own shirt. 

You let your hands wander across his skin, watching the muscles contract and twitch as you touch him. 

“Do you want to take your pants off for me?” you ask, trailing your fingers across his tummy and down towards the waist band of his sweats. 

His breath catches in his throat when you brush your hand fingers over the very obvious tent in the fabric. The little sound he makes when you touch him more intentionally almost makes you shiver. 

Being the first person who gets to see this, touch him like this, feels special. 

With a little bit of help, Noah shuffles out of his sweats. He does falter when he reaches for his boxers. You decide to shed your shorts too, leaving you in just your underwear. 

With some encouragement, he reveals all of him to you. You know how nerve wrecking this part can be. 

It all seems to be forgotten though when you wrap your hand around his cock. Noah's eyes immediately shoot down to where you’re touching him. 

“Does that feel okay?” you ask, watching him intently. 

Noah draws in a shaky breath, “Could you – a little more? Just a —” 

The words drift off into a shameless moan when you tighten your grip on him just a little bit. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” you say softly, “I know this is a lot, but you’re doing so good for me.”

You bring your hand to his waist to steady yourself a little more. 

“Think you can do something for me?” 

He looks up at you with those pretty doe eyes then. 

You briefly remove your hand from his cock, much to his dismay, and guide one of his between your thighs. You feel the trembling of his hand against you. He’s still so awfully nervous. 

You’re sure that he’s done this before because after a few hesitant moments, you feel his fingers find a rhythm against your folds that makes your head spin. 

“You’re so — oh –” he sighs, as his fingers dip into you, “You’re soaked.” You let your head fall back as the tip of his middle finger sinks into you. He barely has a finger inside of you, and he’s already pulling the neediest sounds from you. 

“All for you.” you manage to choke out between sighs. 

He’s teasing with his touch, slowly working his finger into you and relishing in the sighs you let out before he even thinks about adding a second finger. 

You know that you should take more time with this part. It’d be less of a sting if you let him work you open just a bit more, but once you feel as if it’d be enough, impatience takes over. 

“Do you have condoms?” you ask, already expecting him to say no. 

When he does shake his head, he looks so very disheartened. 

“We know you’re clean, and I haven’t been with anyone since a bit before we met. If you trust me — and you’re comfortable with that, I’d be okay with going on without one.”

He thinks for a moment, forehead creasing as he mulls through his thoughts. 

“I don’t wanna stop.” He whispers eventually. 

You meet his smile with an equally warm one. 

“Good. Me neither.”

This time, Noah is the one who pulls you in for a kiss. His hand finds his way to the back of your head to keep you close to him. You feel him shift beneath you, seemingly getting a little impatient himself. 

You lift your waist upward, taking him into your hand once again. 

“Ready?” 

“As ready as I think I’ll ever be.” 

Your free hand returns to the side of his face, “I promise you that it’ll be fine. You’ll be okay.” 

You give him another moment, before you drag the head of his cock through your folds. Noah draws in a sharp breath. His focus shifts to where you hover above him. You sink down on him as slowly as you can manage. The stretch of him feels so good, and you have to remind yourself that this is more about him than it is about you.  

Noah’s all sighs and gasps by the time you’re settled against him. 

His head is resting against the back of the bed, as he draws in a deep breath. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you’re sure that he’s never looked more kissable before. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Noah slowly lifts his head, blinking a few times before he finally focuses on you. 

“I didn’t think that it’d feel this good.” He says hoarsely, “Give me a moment.”

Hearing how affected he already is brings a smile to your face, “There’s no rush, we have all the time in the world.”

He takes another deep breath, letting the air out in a huff. 

“Thank you for being so patient with me.” Noah says after a while, now sounding a little less as if he’s about to fall apart. 

You lean in to kiss his cheek, “Of course.”

You shift against him, tearing a pleasured sigh from his lips. You repeat the motion, just to see how he’ll react. Noah’s hands practically fly to your waist. 

“Oh – fuck.” Noah buries his face in the side of your neck. 

His breath fans out against your skin as you set a slow rhythm against him. As much as you want to let him hide, you also want to see his expressions. You carefully tangle your fingers into his hair and pull him away from you again. Noah's head lulls back against the headboard, exposing the column of his neck to you. 

You keep up a slow back and forth against him. 

Noah’s lips are parted just so. They shine with spittle as he sighs and moans for you. The pitch of his sounds seems to increase with every pass you make. 

You sigh out his name, causing his hips to twitch upwards. 

“You feel so good.” you tell him, arching your back as the head of his cock hits a particularly good spot inside of you. 

The words you want to say trail off into an unashamed moan. 

You can’t quite place it, but it feels different with him. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you. There’s something so worshipful about the way he can’t tear his eyes away from yours.

With the way you’re tangled together you can barely move, but it’s enough to push you both closer to the edge. 

Noah lets out a whine, as his face twists up in pleasure. 

“Getting close?” you barely manage to choke out the question. 

Noah nods frantically, “So close. Fuck keep going like that –” 

His words tear off into a gasp as you feel him spilling inside of you. You follow a moment later. You ride out your high against him. It all feels so good. The tight coil in your belly slowly unravels and eventually, you drape yourself against him. Noah quickly wraps his arms around you. 

He lets out a content, but tired, sigh. 

You remain like this for a while, entirely unwilling to separate yourself from him. 

Noah whispers your name after some time. 

“Thank you.” he says quietly, “I – I almost didn’t think that this would happen.”

“In general or –?”

You sit up just enough to be able to look at him. “Both. I don’t know when it happened but – at some point this started to feel like more than friendship.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he says it, and you allow him to avert his gaze for a moment longer. You bring your hand back to his cheek to make him look at you. 

“Should be fairly obvious that this is a mutual thing, right?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral and steady. 

“That so?” he returns to that trademark boyish confidence of his then. 

“Listen –” you don’t have to finish your faux threat. 

Noah breaks into a smile then, leaning into your space to steal another kiss from you. 

A shower later, you’re tucked back into his bed. You’d made the mutual decision to postpone your movie night in favour of a much-needed conversation about where this all leaves you. In the end, it leaves you with Noah resting against your tummy while you watch a mindless re-run of some reality TV show.  

Your fingers mindlessly card through his hair, and an accidentally too rough tug makes him look up at you. He smiles so softly, before he presses a kiss to the bare skin of your tummy. 

“I’m so glad that I asked you about that book.” he whispers, once more resting his head against you. 

“So am I.” you return. 

Being here with him like this feels right. You’re not sure if you believe in fate, but maybe there is something to it after all because there is no way that this was not meant to be.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland @xmads-omensx

[diamonddaze01]

the old man’s bucket list

pairing: chwe hansol x f!reader | wc: 5.2k genre: uni!au, best friends to lovers | rating: pg warnings: use of recreational marijuana a/n: happy birthday vernon thank you for making my day // thank you to @ylangelegy and @gyubakeries for beta-ing!

summary: “So, anything you wanna do before you turn into a pile of withering bones, grandpa?”

The city hums softly around you, the crisp night air swirling between the two of you as you sit side by side on the roof of Vernon’s old car. Its engine has long since fallen silent, but the smell of gasoline still lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of weed. Your fingers curl around the joint, passing it back and forth, the brief flare of orange light casting shadows across your faces in an almost ethereal way. Time seems to slow, the hum of the city and the occasional creak of the car blending into a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat.

It’s a tradition you both started in your second year of college, when you’d caught him smoking on the roof late one night. He'd expected you to reprimand him, maybe even call him out for being reckless, but instead, you’d just pulled the joint from his hands and said, “Scoot over.”

And just like that, it became your thing. Now, seven years later, you always show up at his door the night before his birthday, joint and lighter in hand.

Vernon’s voice breaks through the comfortable quiet, low and hazy. “Dude,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke, watching it drift into the night. “I’m gonna be old this time tomorrow.”

You glance over at him, catching the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the kind of uncertainty that comes when you realize you're edging toward something big, something real. His shoulders are slumped, and for a moment, you see the exhaustion that usually lies beneath the surface—the weight of years of late nights, papers, and the impending future of PhD deadlines.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice light, teasing.

He sighs, the sound more wistful than you expect. “I’m gonna be 27. And in a few months, I’ll have my PhD. We’ll be real adults. We’ll be... OLD.” His eyes meet yours, a little panicked, as if the weight of the statement just landed fully in his chest.

A burst of laughter escapes you, the sound of it floating through the night like a breath of relief. “So, anything you wanna do before you turn into a pile of withering bones, grandpa?” You nudge his shoulder with yours, just a touch, but it’s enough to make him smile, to make him breathe out a little easier.

He scoffs, but the joint dangles from his lips, his hand reaching for it again as he takes another drag. You watch, your eyes following the movement of his fingers, the way his knuckles flex slightly as he holds the joint. There’s something intimate about the way he moves, so effortlessly, and the thought catches you off guard.

When Vernon speaks again, he sounds so serious, his voice grounding you back to the moment. “Uh, I wanna TP a house,” he says, eyes narrowing like he’s formulating a master plan.

You can’t help it—laughter spills out of you, louder than expected. You shake your head, still giggling. “That’s your big dream before you’re old and crusty?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but his lips are twitching into a grin. He smacks your arm, a playful jab, but it’s warm, like the flicker of the joint between you. “I’m serious, though. And I wanna crash a wedding, visit all seven continents, and... eat something with peanuts, just to see what happens.”

Your brows furrow, suddenly serious. “No. You’ll die from an allergic reaction, and I don’t need that on my conscience.” You swat at his arm for good measure, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

He pouts, mock-annoyed, but the playful glint in his eyes tells you it’s just for show. “Fine, but I’m putting it on the list anyway.”

You pull out your phone, and open a new note, tapping out the title the old man's bucket list. You wait, glancing at him expectantly. Vernon continues, adding more ridiculous things to the list, each one more absurd than the last. You smile, tapping the screen to close the note, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you.

But then, without warning, you’re up, pulling him to his feet. “Get up,” you say, your voice firm but playful. There’s something about the way the night feels that urges you to keep going, to make something out of the time you have left, to fill it with all the little things that make it memorable.

Vernon groans, the sound half-laughter, half-whine. “C’mon, I’m not in the mood for... whatever this is.”

You’re already pulling him, not giving him a chance to protest. “Get up, Vernon.” The tone is more insistent now, and he lets himself be dragged into motion, half-stumbling behind you as you tug him toward his apartment. He flops onto the couch with a sigh of exaggerated defeat, his body melting into the cushions like he’s been carrying the weight of the world all day. You’re barely inside the door when you march into his bathroom, grabbing the rolls of toilet paper from the cupboard. You march back out, the paper in hand, eyes twinkling with a plan that only you would think of.

“What are you gonna do with those?” he asks, eyebrows raised, his voice still laced with curiosity.

You glance at him, your grin widening. “Jihoon lives next door,” you say, as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world.

Before Vernon can even register the words, you’re already out the door, racing across the yard with toilet paper in hand. It’s only when you reach Jihoon’s front door that he catches up, blinking in disbelief. Without a second thought, you toss the first roll, watching it unfurl over Jihoon’s door like it’s the world’s strangest Christmas decoration.

Vernon laughs behind you, and the sound of it feels like a weight lifting from your chest. You reach back, grabbing his hand, and together, you hang the rest of the rolls on Jihoon’s doorstep, like you’re the most natural pair of pranksters this side of the universe.

But Jihoon? He’s never asleep, not even at 1 AM. The door creaks open, and he blinks at you both, confusion written all over his face. Before he can even say anything, you’re already pulling Vernon, laughing as you both run back toward the apartment, your fingers tangled together in that unconscious way that feels too comfortable for just two friends.

The laughter doesn’t stop when you get back inside, the kind of genuine, effortless laughter that makes everything feel lighter. And somewhere in the midst of it all, Vernon’s hand finds yours again, his fingers brushing against yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s warm, comforting, and as you pull away, he realizes how easy it is to fall into that space between being friends and... something more.

You grin at him, your voice a little softer now, playful but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “Wear a suit tomorrow.”

And just like that, you’re gone, leaving him standing there, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there’s something more to this madness between you two than either of you are willing to admit.

The next morning, Vernon’s eyes feel heavy, his head clouded from last night's antics, but he’s still half-smiling when he opens his door. He’s expecting the usual—more ridiculousness from you—but nothing can prepare him for what he sees.

You stand there, wearing the most gorgeous dress he’s ever seen you in—something long, flowy, and undeniably elegant. The soft fabric cascades down your body in a way that makes his heart skip a beat. You look... stunning.

Vernon blinks, his voice caught in his throat. “W-What... why do you look like that?”

You smirk, stepping forward, giving him a playful glance. “It’s part of the bucket list, grandpa. C’mon, we’re going to a wedding.”

Vernon’s jaw drops slightly, and his face turns a little red as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “Wait, what? We’re crashing a wedding... in that?” He gestures to your dress, still processing that you, his best friend, are suddenly this vision of... graceful.

You’re already out the door before he can form a proper sentence, the heels of your shoes clicking against the pavement in the early morning quiet. Vernon follows, still dumbfounded. It’s one of those mornings where everything feels like it’s moving faster than he can keep up, but he doesn’t mind. Not when you’re this... this.

A few blocks later, you pull up in front of a random church, your grin far too mischievous for its own good. Vernon stares at the building. He’d probably be a lot more freaked out if he weren’t still too stunned by how incredible you look in the dress, but he’s also starting to realize just how far you’re willing to take this.

“You sure this is... okay?” he asks, half-laughing, half-worried. “I mean, crashing a wedding? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?”

You wink at him. “We’re fine. Trust me.”

Before he can argue, you grab his hand, pulling him toward the doors of the church. Inside, everything looks beautiful, from the soft, delicate flowers decorating the pews to the sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. The couple at the altar is oblivious to your presence as you slip in quietly, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You both slide into a back row, but the air feels electric with anticipation. Vernon’s not sure if it’s the ridiculousness of the situation, the fact that you look like you belong in a fairy tale, or the overwhelming tension that’s suddenly buzzing between you two, but he feels his pulse quicken.

You’re barely in your seats before the vows start. You nudge Vernon, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think they’re actually gonna stay together?”

Vernon turns to you, shaking his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure they don’t even know we’re here.”

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the happy couple. Then, with a grin, you lean in closer to him, your voice dripping with mischief. “You think they’ll notice if I shout ‘I object!’?”

Vernon’s eyes widen. “No,” he says urgently, grabbing your arm. “You are not doing that. We are not doing that.”

“Oh, come on, it’d be hilarious,” you tease, not at all deterred. “Besides, I feel like I’m in the movie. This is the part where I stand up and ruin everything.”

Vernon’s panicked gaze darts to the altar, and he places a hand over your mouth just as you start to open it to object. “I swear to God, if you do this, I’ll... I’ll...”

“What?” You smirk, your voice muffled by his hand. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

But he doesn’t let go, his grip firm as he leans in closer, whispering. “The worst that can happen is we get kicked out, fined, or thrown in jail, and then you’ll ruin my entire day because we’ll be banned from this city.”

You laugh, muffled by his hand, but there’s a gleam in your eye that tells him you’re not backing down anytime soon. Vernon doesn’t even have the energy to fight anymore. Instead, he sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "I swear you’ll be the death of me."

The vows continue, and you sit back, still chuckling to yourself. Vernon, exasperated, looks around, suddenly realizing just how out of place the two of you are. You’re both in the back row, too over-the-top for this humble little ceremony, but he can’t help but feel a little lighter—just from the absurdity of it all. With you by his side, nothing ever feels as serious as it should.

Finally, the ceremony ends, and you can’t help it—before Vernon can stop you, you leap up, grabbing his hand. You both make a hasty exit, laughing the entire way out the door, the sound echoing in the empty church. Vernon’s laugh is the best part of the whole thing, deep and full, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

Once you’re safely out of sight, you both pause to catch your breath. Vernon is still laughing, his face flushed with the thrill of the moment.

“You’re insane,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin. “Yep. And that’s why you love me.”

He just rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “Alright, alright. What’s next on this bucket list of yours?”

You hand him a crude, hastily made "boarding pass," the kind that’s probably seen better days—ripped corners, hastily scribbled with a sharpie. "You said you wanted to visit all 7 continents, right?" you say, practically beaming with pride.

Vernon looks down at the ticket, his lips pressing into a thin line. He knows he should probably laugh, but there's something in the way your eyes shine as you hand it to him that makes his heart skip a beat. “This is your idea of a boarding pass?” he asks, trying to keep the smile tugging at his lips under control, though he can’t help it.

His gaze lingers on the ticket for a moment longer, the words "ALL 7 CONTINENTS: YOUR TRIP BEGINS NOW!" written in big, bold letters like you’re daring him to go along with it. And despite the absurdity of it all, he feels an inexplicable warmth bloom in his chest.

"Yep," you answer, already bouncing toward his apartment door with an exaggerated pep in your step, totally oblivious to the way he's looking at you, half-amused, half-enchanted. "Now, pack your bags. We’ve got to see the world."

When you finally make it back to Vernon’s apartment, he stops in his tracks, frozen in the doorway. His eyes scan the chaos in front of him—his sanctuary, his personal space, now overtaken by your well-meaning, insanity.

Vernon’s apartment has been transformed into a bizarre, mismatched world: cut-out penguins taped to the walls like some half-hearted tribute to Antarctica, and a jungle of fake plants—thank you, Joshua—cluttering every available surface. The idea behind it makes his head spin, and his first instinct is to laugh, but there’s a part of him that just feels... soft in the center. You did all this for him. For him.

His chest tightens at the thought.

The living room? Completely unrecognizable. Bright blue streamers drape over every chair and shelf, like the ocean swallowed the place whole, and scattered photos of Venice—Venice—are carelessly strewn about in what could only be described as a misrepresentation of Europe. A stuffed kangaroo sits in the corner, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. Vernon feels his face flush, certain he might just evaporate into the air at this point.

"Seriously?" he mutters, his voice thick with a mix of incredulity and something else he doesn’t know how to name. He stands at the edge of the room, eyes wide as he takes it all in. “Where the hell am I supposed to sit?”

You cross your arms, that signature grin of yours never fading. "It’s a very culturally immersive experience," you say, your tone so genuinely sincere that he can’t help but snort out a laugh.

Vernon blinks, still trying to make sense of it all. “Yeah, except this doesn’t look like any continent I’ve ever seen,” he complains, flopping down onto the couch, his eyes still glued to the stuffed kangaroo as if it’s personally offended him. “What continent is this supposed to be, huh?”

You gesture around the room as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Australia, obviously.” You pause, eyes narrowing in mock thought. “Okay, maybe just the kangaroo part. But the jungle’s definitely from there.”

Vernon sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s a mix of exasperated and... something else—something a little closer to fondness. He glances around the room again, his eyes landing on an inflatable globe sitting in the corner like it’s part of some weird interactive exhibit. It’s as if the world itself is laughing at him.

"Okay, okay," he groans, his voice muffled as he settles into the couch, practically sinking into the cushions in an effort to escape the madness. "What the hell did you do to my kitchen?"

You walk past him, an easy laugh falling from your lips. "Oh, you’re going to love this." You swing open the kitchen door, revealing an entire North Pole setup. His fridge has been transformed into some sort of igloo-like thing, fake snow covering every available surface. And there are more penguins than he’s ever wanted to count.

He stares at it for a moment, then looks back at you with that fond exasperation he can never quite mask. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Your eyes meet his, and for a fleeting second, he catches a glimpse of something deeper—something that makes his stomach flip. You’re grinning, the light in your eyes so full of life, and for the briefest moment, he wonders how he got so lucky to be the one you’re sharing all this with.

"You asked to see the world," you say easily, leaning against the doorframe. "You’re welcome, Vernon. The world’s right here, in your living room."

And just like that, his heart feels too big for his chest, like it might burst at any second. The world’s right here. All because of you.

Vernon rubs his temples, knowing full well that the chaos you've brought into his life isn't going anywhere. He’s resigned, but there’s a tenderness in his gaze as he looks at you. “I think I might actually melt into the floor,” he mutters, his voice a little softer than he intended.

You sit beside him, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, come on. You’re living the dream.” The way you say it is so light, so carefree, but Vernon hears the underlying sincerity in your voice. And for a moment, it’s all too much—too good to be real.

“I didn’t even get a heads-up about the stuffed animals,” he says with a mock scowl. “I thought this was a serious bucket list item.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, leaning into him and nudging him again. “Now, let’s check off some more, hm?”

Vernon looks at you then, really looks at you, his eyes softening as he lets out a sigh. "What’s next, then? Antarctica next door?"

You whip out your phone with a grin, tapping away at it. "Actually... now we’ve got a road trip to take. Remember that whole ‘see all 50 states’ thing on your bucket list?"

He groans but doesn’t protest. In fact, his heart’s beating a little faster than he’d like to admit as he watches you bounce around. He wishes he could say the words that have been stuck in his throat for ages, the ones that would make this whole ridiculous situation realer—I love you, you know. But the moment always seems to slip away before he can say it, like some elusive thing just out of reach. You grab his hand and drag him back out to your car, and the words die on his lips before he can say them.

"What are you dragging me into now?" he asks, half-laughing, half-dreading whatever you've come up with this time.

You stop, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I had to convince some people to help us with this little idea," you say, voice dripping with sweet, sweet sarcasm.

As if on cue, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Mingyu appear out of nowhere, each of them holding huge posters of American landmarks. They're dressed in ridiculous outfits to match the theme, some of them in matching ‘I <3 NY’ shirts, others with neon-colored fanny packs, clearly ready to be part of your insanity. Vernon blinks a few times, not sure whether to laugh or scream.

"Wait... you're seriously making them walk around the car with these?" Vernon asks, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Yep! That’s the plan!" you reply, already hopping into the driver's seat with a satisfied grin, completely unfazed by the absurdity that surrounds you.

Seungkwan shrugs, doing his best to strike a dramatic pose with the Statue of Liberty poster. "It’s for the art," he says flatly.

Minghao waves his own Yellowstone National Park sign with an exaggerated flair, practically in a full tourist getup. "I’m just here for the free snacks," he mutters, earning a chuckle from Mingyu, who’s got the Grand Canyon poster, looking as serious as possible.

Vernon, his hands on his hips, can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "You people are out of your minds." But even as the absurdity sinks in, there's a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe it’s because he’s a little bit in love with how much you’ve thrown yourself into making his ridiculous bucket list a reality. Or maybe it’s because you’re dragging him into this whirlwind, and honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

"Let’s get this show on the road," you say, revving the engine and pulling the car into gear.

"God help me," Vernon mutters under his breath, but the softness in his voice betrays the hint of a smile. "You’re insane."

"But you love me," you reply easily, your eyes dancing as you give him a sidelong glance.

Vernon shakes his head, but there’s a certain warmth in his gaze, the one that says he’s been in love with you for a while now, even if he’ll never admit it out loud. "Yeah, yeah... You’re lucky you’re cute."

"Good thing I know it," you tease back, your grin widening.

As you drive off, the posters still held aloft by your friends, Vernon finally lets himself sink back into the passenger seat. The road ahead is uncertain, and the bucket list items are absurd, but somehow, everything feels right with you by his side. Even if he can’t say it yet, a piece of his heart already belongs to you.

"You’re really dragging me into all of this, huh?" he asks softly, more to himself than you.

You shoot him a playful wink. "We’re just getting started, grandpa."

And with that, you hit the open road—toward the next absurd thing on his bucket list, and somewhere in the middle of it all, Vernon’s heart beats just a little bit faster.

Vernon learned long ago to not question you.  By now, he’s learned that resistance is futile. If he fights, you’ll just drag him along anyway. So instead, he sighs, settles into the passenger seat, and lets you drive him to God-knows-where, watching the scenery blur past in streaks of gold and amber as the sun dips lower on the horizon.

He only starts to get suspicious when you pull onto a dirt road, the hum of the city long behind you. The sky stretches wide and open above the fields, the last traces of daylight painting everything in soft pinks and oranges. It’s beautiful. It’s suspiciously beautiful.

"Okay," he finally says, shifting in his seat. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," you reply, that usual mischievous glint in your eye.

Vernon raises a brow but doesn’t push. He just watches as you drive deeper into nowhere, the road narrowing until you finally pull off into a clearing. There’s nothing but rolling fields around you, bathed in the fading light of sunset. No city lights, no noise, no people. Just you, him, and the sky.

"Alright," Vernon says slowly, stepping out of the car and stretching. "This is either a really elaborate set-up for a birthday party or the part where you murder me."

You snort, popping open the trunk. "Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

And then—before he can even begin to process—he watches as you start pulling out the single most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen.

A comically large telescope.

Not just any telescope. He recognizes it immediately.

"Wait. Is that Seokmin’s?"

You grin as you struggle to set it up. "Yep. He was in his ‘astrology era’, remember?"

"Astronomy," Vernon corrects, but he’s laughing now, shaking his head. "He still says it’s not a phase."

"He says they’re basically the same thing," you reply, adjusting the telescope’s stand. "Which is wrong, but whatever. I borrowed it for the night."

Vernon snorts, but something warm tugs at his chest when he notices the rest of your setup. A blanket is spread out over the grass, weighed down by a half-unpacked picnic. You even brought pillows—like you planned for the two of you to stay here for a while.

"You really thought this through," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, there’s no teasing in your expression—just something soft, something open. "Well, yeah," you say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "You said you wanted to go stargazing."

And just like that, something tight in Vernon’s chest loosens.

It’s strange. He’s always been the type to keep things close, to let feelings sit in his throat, unsaid. But with you, everything is so effortless, so natural. Even when you’re dragging him on ridiculous adventures, even when you’re borrowing absurdly large telescopes from friends who definitely did not consent to this specific use—being with you has never felt like work.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits beside you on the blanket, listening to the quiet hum of the wind as the first stars flicker to life in the sky.

You nudge him toward the telescope. "Go on, look."

Vernon leans in, adjusting the focus until the blurred lights sharpen into something breathtaking. A thousand tiny pinpricks of light, stretching endlessly into the dark.

"Cross it off," you murmur, passing him your phone.

He takes your phone, stares at the list that has been slowly dwindling in size all day. He stares at stargazing for a long moment before finally pressing the checkbox.

You grin. "So? Worth it?"

He looks at you, at the way the stars reflect in your eyes, at the way you’re just watching him like you’re memorizing this moment.

Something about it makes his throat go dry.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Worth it."

For a while, neither of you say anything. The air between you is heavy with something unspoken, something real. But for once, Vernon doesn’t feel the urge to fill the silence. He just lets it settle, lets himself exist here—under the stars, beside you, with the whole world stretched out before him.

And in the distance, his phone vibrates.

Seokmin.

SEOKMIN [9:32 PM]: tell me ur respecting my telescope. photos NOW.

Vernon chuckles under his breath. You peek open one eye, already reaching for your phone.

"Should I send him a blurry one just to piss him off?" you ask, smirking.

Vernon shakes his head, but the laughter comes easily now. "You’re evil."

"But you love me," you reply, grinning.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches as you type out a response, as your face glows faintly in the light of the screen.

Something about it—about all of this—makes his heart ache.

Maybe he’ll say it. Maybe he won’t.

For now, he just lets himself enjoy the now. The stars above. The warmth beside him. The possibility of everything still waiting to come.

And with that, he leans back, staring at the sky, listening to your laughter carry into the night.

The stars have shifted overhead by the time you make your way back to the car, the air cooler now, crisp with the quiet hum of crickets in the distance. The field stretches wide and endless around you, bathed in soft moonlight. Vernon watches as you rummage through the trunk, muttering something under your breath before you emerge, cradling something vaguely lumpy in your hands.

He squints. "What... is that?"

You grin, setting it carefully on the picnic blanket. "A vaguely peanut-shaped cake."

He stares at it. "I—why?"

"For the plot," you say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And because I know you would complain you never got to eat anything with peanuts in it, so this is the best compromise you’ll get."

Vernon exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You really did all this for me?"

"Obviously," you say, rolling your eyes before settling beside him, pulling a lighter from your pocket. A single candle stands at the center of the cake, flickering to life as you shield it from the gentle breeze with your hand.

"Now make a wish before the wind does it for you," you tell him, voice lighter than the moment actually feels.

Vernon hesitates, gaze flickering from the candle to you. The glow reflects in your eyes, turning them impossibly warm, impossibly bright. He swallows.

He doesn’t know how to say it—how to explain that he doesn’t need a wish. That you’ve somehow managed to take a list he thought about years ago, half-joking, half-dreaming, and made every absurd little thing real. That without him realizing it, somewhere between the wedding-crashing, the zany decorations in his apartment, and you pulling off ridiculous crap just to make him laugh, you’ve become the thing he never even thought to write down.

The only thing that’s ever really mattered.

He closes his eyes, breathes in, and blows the candle out.

When he opens them, you’re already smiling at him.

And suddenly, everything tilts.

Because in that moment, with the stars stretched wide above you and the warmth of your gaze steady on him, Vernon realizes that if he doesn’t say something now, he might never get the chance again.

"So, grandpa," you tease, nudging him, trying to pull him back into the lighthearted rhythm you always fall into. "Ready to become a pile of bones? Accomplished everything on your list?"

He frowns. Shakes his head. And only feels mildly bad for the way your shoulders drop just a little, your teasing smile faltering for the first time all night.

"There’s one more thing," he murmurs softly, setting the cake aside between you.

You blink, tilting your head. "Huh? I thought we—"

But before you can finish, he reaches for you—loops an arm around your waist, pulls you in without hesitation. His other hand comes up to your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek before he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He lets his fingers linger there, his touch impossibly gentle.

You smile now, smaller, softer, your voice barely above a whisper. "What’s the last thing, Vern?"

His heart hammers against his ribs.

He doesn’t answer. Just leans in, slow but certain, closing the space between you. And when his lips finally meet yours, he swears the whole world tilts again, but this time, it doesn’t feel so dizzying.

This time, it feels like something finally settling into place.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, his voice unsteady but sure when he finally speaks.

"I think," he murmurs, his thumb tracing a slow, absentminded circle against your waist, "I was supposed to fall in love with you a long time ago."

You blink, your breath catching in your throat.

He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "But, uh. I think I got distracted by how annoying you are."

A scandalized gasp escapes you, but he’s already grinning, ducking his head to catch your lips in another kiss before you can hit him.

And for the first time in his life, there’s nothing left unchecked.

tagging: @ottersmind @blvenote @kyeomsworld @cookiearmy @armycarat2612 @rjea @xylatox @flwrshwa

@christinewithluv @headlockimnida @letwiiparkjay @cherr-y-eji @codeinbelle @baguette-atiny @whoa-jo @noiceoofed

[red-doll-face]

lowhonor arthur who's just obsessed with u. . . 😵‍💫

DOLLLYYY thank you for this wonderful request i was so excited to see a req from you in my inbox queen 😭😭😭 I LOVE YOU !!! 💖💖😊😊🥰🥰also thank you again for the one you wrote for me !! 🥹🥹 I tried really hard on this and im actually super proud of how it came out, I had my bf who is a lh arthur player weigh in on some dialogue sooooo i finally have a lh arthur committee to fall back on LMAO I hope you like it !! tysm for reading and any feedback makes me 😊😊😊 also made it a bit long as always w me ... Warnings: Arthur is a meanie , low honor arthur as a warning. like hes a jerk but what were we expecting?? however complete weenie for you like hes down bad. also sad arthur like he has his issues where he thinks he isnt a stud?? like i need a bucket of his nut rn sorryyyy

In Arthur's opinion, you only deserve joy and nothing less.

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader

Do you have to be so goddamn distracting? He swears your giggle is the loudest of the girls, when they’re no doubt filling each other in about the latest camp affairs. He has to look over from where he was brushing his horse's glossy coat in the blazing sun. The grumpy shire gets annoyed at the loss of contact, turning to mouth at Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur's hand is squeezing the brush, as to make all the blood rush away from his knuckles. You sit there with Karen on the chairs outside the girl’s tent, whispering in her ear, before laughing again. The prettiest thing, your hair bouncing and your hand rising to your chest. Karen nudges your shoulder. And she turns to see him staring. The glare she sends his way isn’t all too unexpected. 

But then Karen whispers to you as well. Her eyes flick over to where he’s standing. He looks away before the inevitable. Your eyes on him, curious, searching over him. He hates how that idea makes him feel, being perceived by you. Arthur wonders what you think. Some sad sap eyeing a young lady such as you. He looks down at his dirty shirt, the smell of horse flesh and hair clinging to him. You probably think he’s repulsive to look at. His brows draw together, his jaw gets tight. You must think he’s horrible, like Karen does. Cruel and awful. You wouldn’t be wrong. And he knows he shouldn’t do any of the things he thinks about doing but his impulses can be hard to control. The anxiety makes him almost nauseous. Heat brewing, his chest feeling tighter than he’d like; than he’d ever admit to a living soul. But his journal later tonight is another thing. He stuffs the horse brush back into his saddle bag. Why couldn’t he just ignore you? Push you from his mind, keep you from having any sort of affect on him? He’s not too sure. 

Maybe it’s the way you catch his eye whenever you walk past, your skirt brushing against his leg. He knows you’re a real sweet thing. He loathed to see Ms. Grimshaw bring you to tears over your inability to perform to her standards. He had been all too eager to get some sort of odd revenge for you, being sure to dig in deep with remarks, his words feeling more barbed than usual. Being an attack dog he supposed, came all too easy. Not that you noticed particularly but it's more for his pride than anything else.  

When he turns, you’re still looking, tilting your head. The expression on your face falters when you see him looking, your cute little lips parting before you avert your eyes, not even bothering to keep your head from facing towards him. You look nervous too. He imagines it’s because you might think about him just as much as he does of you. That at night, you might think of your girlish fantasies, ones where he holds your hand or gives you a smile, meant just for your eyes. Nothing so depraved as his own visions. But he knows you most likely don't think much of him at all. He huffs, scratching at his beard. He needs a smoke and maybe a drink, just to take a bit of the weight off of his chest at just the thought of you. 

After dinner, you sit with Lenny. He tells you something that makes you laugh again. He seethes, it’s not him getting them from you but it’s still sends a shiver through him. He could swear he gets goosebumps. Your laugh is prettier than any of that droning music Dutch plays from his scratchy gramophone. Beautiful really. If he could keep your laugh to himself, he would. Would listen to it over and over. Would tell every joke he has. Hell, even the dirty ones. Instead, he’s listening to Bill ramble about how he doesn’t appreciate the folk around here thinking he’s as dumb as a donkey. 

“It ain’t for no reason people think you’re a dumbass, Bill. It’s because you are. Kinda smell like a donkey too,” Arthur drawls, his natural inclination to getting under people’s skin only spiking at the sight of you smiling at Lenny. Fuckin’ kid. Arthur’s got nothing against him, only that he’s making you laugh. In another life, maybe he had that kind of easy and casual energy you liked, relaxed and amusing even. But he doesn’t, as evidenced by Bill’s blustering. He had tuned the first half of it out (focused on your lips, the roundness of your cheeks) but Bill is trying to sputter out a response as half as scathing as his own. Bill’s angry look only makes Arthur give his arrogant smile. 

“And who asked you, Arthur?” The moron’s whiny voice only serves to annoy Arthur and cover up another one of your intoxicating giggles. Your joy was something to behold and Bill’s petulance is nothing special.

“You’re makin’ everyone dumber just by talkin’, why don’t you just shut your goddamn mouth?” Arthur shoots a nasty look at the other man until he turns red. John tells Bill to let it go. Arthur had pushed it too far but he doesn’t give even half a shit. Arthur dusts his thigh off before taking a sip from the bottle of whiskey gone warm in his palm. When you’re still talking to Lenny, he stands, forgetting the bottle on an errant crate. He approaches, trying to catch snippets of your conversation. 

“-how come you like that game so much? Doesn’t it hurt when you mess up?�� 

“Well, I just don’t mess up and when I do, I take it on the chin. Don’t think I’d be any good otherwise,” 

Your light laugh at Lenny's words makes him boil inside. Your bright simper; looking up at Lenny while the younger man stands, straight and as tall as he can. Proud smile, as if he can tell he’s impressed you. It all crumbles when Arthur comes near enough to be noticed. A stiff greeting falls from Lenny’s mouth, you look over your shoulder. Unsure how to respond. Arthur clings to his control, avoiding the glance that he wants to take of you. His restraint holds fast when he wants it to. 

“Damn near cut your finger off the last time, wouldn’t be so sure,” he pokes at Lenny’s ego, goading him. Keeping his voice mellow enough as to be construed as playful but he can’t hide his harshness. Lenny doesn’t take his bait. 

“Whatever, Arthur. You ain’t exactly the expert, neither,” You look between the two, a small nervous look flickering in your gaze. Arthur smiles, unfazed by Lenny’s snappy return. He knows how intimidating he can be; can see how Lenny’s resolve breaks just a little. He’s got courage, a smart kid. Quick, too. But he’s too young to have the authority Arthur carries, maybe one day but not now. 

“Go on n’ play your games, you could always use more practice,” Lenny glares but looks at you. It only makes Arthur cross his arms over his chest. As if you need protection from him, should he taint you by standing too close. You nod, telling Lenny to have a good evening. In that sweet voice, so kind. Once Lenny is sure you think you’ll be fine, he has an exasperated sigh before he goes off. 

“Arthur…” Is the reluctant response you have. Being alone with him obviously makes you fidget, makes your fingers scrunch in the fabric of your skirts. He likes your tongue forming his name, you almost whisper it, he can hardly hear it over the chatter of the other people around you. What a brave girl, putting up with him all by yourself. 

“How-how are you?” you’re on the verge of making a frown but you hold your airy smile upwards. Afraid he’ll try to point out any flaw. You don’t understand why he does the things he does, his reputation proceeds him. But the issue is, Arthur doesn’t have any flaws to point out with you. You’re almost too good for this den of thieves you live amongst. Almost. If you were, then he wouldn't get to see you every day. Perhaps you were just another unfortunate person with nowhere else to go but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s always been greedy like that. He looked forward to waking up, if only to catch glimpses of you doing your chores or reading books in the sun. It takes him a bit too long to answer, adjusting his hat, his own nerves a bit pushed at his proximity to you. Just breathing the same air as you puts him in a better mood. He stares into your eyes, trying to evoke a reaction from you. They glimmer, warm fire light caressing the softness of you. 

“Alright, I guess,” whatever quickness his tongue has is diminished. Playing nice isn’t his strong suit. Fumbling through a decent conversation with you might be nice though. The more you let him stay around you without walking away with a huff like Lenny did, the better. He won’t admit your presence has him softening a little. “What’re you up to?” He’s only a little embarrassed at how stupid that question sounds. 

“Well, I was talking to Lenny but…”  your glance in the direction Lenny walked off to makes him tighten his fist. He puts his hands on his belt, leaning his weight on one leg. “Now, I’m talking to you,” When your glances brush over him, he can feel it as if you touched him, he can’t help the way his stomach drops a few inches lower. Get a hold of yourself, you damn fool.

He can tell you didn’t know quite what to say. Doesn’t matter, he could listen to just about anything you have to say to the placating rhythm of the evening, the chirp of crickets, the wind in the trees. 

“That so?” Idiot is his first thought. But the smile that breaks on your face; it's worth the humiliation curdling somewhere in him. Your shy nod, the shift in you, moved by him. He doesn't care if he’s assigning meaning where there isn’t any. He digs for more, looking for signs, imagined or not. Unconsciously, he drifts closer to where you sit on a rickety wooden chair.

“I think so. I don’t know, we don’t talk very often,” your voice is a precious sound. And so is the flutter of your eyelashes when you blink. Slow; now that you’ve let your guard down just a little. He watches intently, every movement you make.

“Damn shame, darlin’,” it is a shame. He figured he didn’t stand a chance but he can’t keep you from having a hold over him. Even when he isn’t here, his thoughts wander towards you. But now he looks for even a grain of affection in your eyes. He gathers more meaning from your words, the rising tone at the end of your sentence makes him think that you would like to talk to him more. He knows he’s deluding himself but he can kid himself just a little. His boot scrapes the dirt, ducking his eyes under the black brim of his hat. Just maybe, you’d engage him in more than an unnerved glance or a two word greeting.

At the name he calls you, your eyes widen just a bit, tilting your head, showing him your neck. Bad idea. He drinks in the sight. Is he disgusting for wanting to taste it? The skin of your neck, warm with your blood? The flattered and flustered raise of your fingers to your lips is exactly what he had wanted, he hadn’t known it but god, does it send satisfaction ringing throughout him; seeing the effect of him on you. 

“Have I been missing out on something, Arthur?” Your tone is playful, but still reserved. Coming out of your shell now that he is reining in whatever drives him to push other people away with his harshness and his affronting demeanor. Just barely. 

“Not really. Think it’s me; missin’ out on ya,” Lucky you, this is about as personable as Arthur can really get. But you seem to enjoy it. Your pretty smile and a hum that rivals the soothing nature of a cat’s purr; say so. He thinks of your contented murmur; how it would feel on his lips should you grace him with a kiss of yours. “Ain’t much for talkin’...” 

“That’s not what I hear,” It is perhaps out of your mouth before you can think on it. Impulsive, just like him.

“And what have you heard?” it comes out more serious than he wants it to. More threatening. But he forces his posture to relax. As difficult as that is. You don’t flinch too much at least. Just lean back slightly. 

“Well, I hear that…I’m not sure I should say..” The little reluctance you show is drawing him in. You're an angel, biting your thumb nail because of your nerves. Afraid to get someone in trouble. He crosses his arms over his chest again, leans against the nearest surface, a stationary wagon side. 

“Jus’ tell me what they said, girl,” the way you follow his somewhat gentle command is more alluring than he should find it. Most people followed his direction without much question but it is something special when you look up at him, when you do as he says. Does something funny to his head. Mixes things up, stirring up his insides like Pearson’s godforsaken stew. 

“They said-said you’re good with words. But you don’t always mean it. Those mean things you say,” you play with your hands, picking at the skin on your nails. 

“Oh, I mean it. A lot of the time anyway. Why, I say somethin’ mean to you, princess?” At first you think you’ve activated whatever deep seated need Arthur has to make people dislike him. Your worried and panicked expression puts pressure on his chest. He doesn’t ever want you to look at him like that, not for real. Anything outside his idea of play just wouldn’t do. All he wants is that relaxed gesture of happiness you showed him. You shake your head; overexcited, but he speaks before you can muster a frightened response. He hadn’t said anything too bad with you, of that he’s sure but it can't hurt; offering you comfort. Arthur Morgan and comforting don’t often go in the same sentence. Despite his prickly reputation he gives you an easy grin, trying to keep his pride from turning it into a crooked smirk. Something he thought you might like, as he imagined you would.

“Cause I’m sure I didn’t mean it. Not with you,” He loves how quiet you get, pacified by his words. And that smile comes back; makes you look just fine. 

thank you so much for reading!! i really am so grateful for the support i receive from this community. like i love yall smmmm !!🥺😭💖first time messing around in Arthur’s pov a lil so pls lmk any thots 🥰🥰🫶

[hivemuthur]

hihihihi i literally love ur writing smmmm like i actually need it sb. any time you post ik it’s gonna be peak literature 🙂‍↕️

anyhowwww, i wanted to request an arcane fic with a university au viktor x reader where viktor and reader are like academic rivals or wtv and they’re always bickering but viktor rlly wants to be her friend and doesn’t want to be rivals. sooo he tries like anything he can and as reader eventually warms up to him another guy comes along (maybe jayce or smth idk? or it can just be a random) and becomes their friend like almost instantly and viktor is JEALOUSSSS and envious and just ufhfhhffhhfghhf i need that sb.

it can be nsfw or sfw i literally do not care i just need that plot paired with your writing and ik it’s gonna be an absolute masterpiece.

Hey, love! You know what I'm gonna say, right? Sorry for the long wait. This will have 3 chapters, like for real, not like the other one that now is looking more like 5. I'm gonna say a few things got changed here, because I forgot the essence of the request while writing, but the general message is: Viktor is bad at flirting.

Tightrope - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature (overall explicit), frenemies/academic rivals to lovers, modern university AU

Ch.2. | Ch.3.

word count: 5,9K

tag: #tightrope

summary: You and Viktor are tethering the line between friendship and rivalry, Jayce being one amongst the few common factors you both acknowledge (of course more is there but for the smart people you are, you tend to be very stupid about things). Oh, and you have to do a project together.

author's note: I have a very poor name vocabulary sorry. Here's another Joe, this time he's a dude :v thank you @rennethen for beta reading and bearing through my shit with such grace. One trick pony here we go!

also the artist behind art is here!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You squint as your eyes scan the list of projects for Heimerdinger’s class. And since the professor is just and fair, like a nice old man who has seen it all, you already know what to expect. But you check anyway.

He wouldn’t pair you—the almost top-of-the-class student, fighting desperately with your feet and elbows to stay there—with someone undeserving. This little annoying thing in the back of your head called hope still glows faintly, last embers about to die as you’ve read through almost all names known to you except for yours.

And as a bucket of cold water gets thrown over the ashen pieces of coal, you find it. And oh—

Of course. Next to it, your least favourite name. Of course, just… great. This is great. This is fine.

The last time you worked together, it ended with a lot of papercuts, pencils flying, and Jayce using notebooks and blackboards as shields—not to mention a tiny explosion because neither of you could agree on proportions.

So, like the responsible classmate you are, you make one final, desperate attempt to convince the nice little man to change your partner. For the sake of public safety and the well-being of everyone who steps foot on Academy grounds.

You are also nice and well-behaved, so even though the door to the classroom is open, you knock on the doorframe before disturbing the professor.

“Ah! I would lie if I said I wasn’t expecting you to show up. Please, come in!” he exclaims, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes in sheer existential pain. If he already knows what you want, you already know how this is going to go.

Still, you press forward, stepping inside and clasping your hands behind your back in what you hope is a diplomatic stance. “Professor, I was wondering if—by any chance, purely hypothetically—there’s a possibility to switch partners for the project?”

Heimerdinger folds his arms behind his back, looking up at you with the kind of patient amusement that makes you feel like a child asking for extra dessert before finishing dinner. “Ah, yes. I was almost certain you’d ask that,” he says, nodding sagely. “And before you say anything else, I do hope you won’t drop out of my class if I say no.”

You open your mouth, ready to assure him that you would never be so dramatic—except that’s exactly what you were about to say, just in different words.

Before you can recover, Heimerdinger raises a hand and continues. “This project is worth thirty percent of your final mark,” he states, his voice gentle but firm. “I am, of course, aware of the... tension between you and Viktor.” His moustache twitches slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “However, I must ensure fairness in all assignments. There will be no one riding on someone else’s back in my class.”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “Professor, with all due respect, we nearly set a classroom on fire last time—”

“The most beautiful diamonds,” he interjects, tilting his head with a knowing smile, “are shaped under pressure.”

You stare at him, jaw tight. He stares back, completely at ease.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I—” you gulp on air, searching for words. Finally, a breath of surrender escapes you and you deflate completely, saying only, “Thank you for your time.”

Seeing your sagged chest and fingers grasping the edge of your notebook tightly, Heimerdinger offers you a consolation. “I know I seem ancient to you, child. But trust me when I say, I do remember what it’s like to be young, and a little bit of friendly rivalry can be transformed into something truly groundbreaking. Think Newton and Hooke! Tesla and Edison! Bohr and Einstein! All of them were in quandaries that led to further discoveries!”

While Heimerdinger lists off pairs of rival geniuses, completely different names surface in your mind, unspoken but undeniable. Verlaine and Rimbaud. Love and Cobain. Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. You are convinced those are the dynamics that loom over you and Viktor—just without all the feelings, of course.

And if only you were just competitors, like Bohr and Einstein, things would be so much simpler.

From the very first meeting, Viktor had been cold and reserved, his sharp tongue laced with enough venom to wither anyone foolish enough to challenge him. But if there was one thing you had to do to stay afloat in this sea of STEM sausages, it was dare. And challenge.

You still remember that moment vividly. How you almost stumbled when Jayce introduced you—because gods, he was gorgeous. An angular face that looked carved from marble, warm amber eyes framed by a fall of auburn hair. A boy so unfairly pretty that, had you met him a few years earlier, you would have fallen hard.

Your eyes swept him from head to toe before you slipped your hand into his, and for a single, traitorous moment, something fluttered in your chest. A rush of warmth, unexpected and unfamiliar.

Then you blurted out your name with an embarrassing stutter—

And the magic shattered the second Viktor opened his sweet mouth.

"Charmed," he drawled, but the dryness in his voice suggested the opposite. His gaze flicked over you in a quick, assessing glance before he tilted his head towards Jayce. "Is she another one of your projects, or does she actually know what she’s doing?"

The warmth in your chest evaporated instantly, replaced by a sharp spike of irritation.

Oh. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

With a weak smile, you thank Professor Heimerdinger, and your mind is so out of it that you almost curtsy—which you hastily disguise as an awkward bow. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you literally fall out of the classroom, colliding with something big and solid.

“Careful there! Hi, oh—” A surprised voice reaches your ears, followed by a strong arm steadying you. “Hi there. Hi, um. You alright?”

Either he’s a halfwit or completely smitten with you, because his articulation leaves much to be desired. Not that you're one to judge, given your current coordination.

“Hi, sorry. Just a small… miscalculation.” You smile sheepishly and extend your hand out of habit, instinctively introducing yourself to your unexpected saviour. After all, that’s how you met Jayce.

“I’m Joe,” he says in one breath, your much smaller hand completely disappearing in his massive palm. “It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckles, a blush blooming across his cheeks—so unabashed, his eyes glinting—and oh.

Nice, you catch yourself thinking in the most obscene, ludicrous way as you zero in on his chest, the tight team T-shirt clinging to it.

“Eh, it’s nice to meet you too.” You grin, nodding, and blink stupidly, batting your eyelashes, not entirely sure what’s happening.

Before you get a chance to unglue the dumbfounded smile from your face and actually say something more, Jayce’s voice rings through the corridor, your name echoing off the walls.

“There you are! Oops! Making new friends? Don’t mind her, this is her love language.”

Jayce—the oblivious Jayce, a man so naïve it would never cross his mind what he is doing to someone you literally just met thirty seconds ago. Mortification is too weak a word to describe what you feel inside.

“Jayce!” You smack his chest and shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t mind him, he’s an ass.”

And as if poor Joe doesn’t have enough on his plate already, another voice bombards him, and you’re certain he’s beginning to regret ever catching you.

“Hello. Are you a new face in Heimerdinger’s class?” Viktor asks, wearing that redundant smirk, his voice stretching into a deliberate, chewy, gross thing that makes you scowl. Just outright cruel.

“Heh, no, I just happened to catch your friend,” Joe answers without missing a beat. “And… I was hoping I could get her number.”

And that just. Does it.

You nod faster than you think, already reaching for his phone, clumping your number in there with sticky, shaky fingers and a stupid blush creeping up your neck. You avoid Jayce’s and Viktor’s eyes, but oh boy, you can feel both pairs drilling into you almost viscerally. Viktor’s especially—those fucking yellow embers burning right through you from under furrowed brows.

You flash Joe one last smile and a very awkward, very hurried, “Call me,” not knowing what has gotten into you. Then you let Jayce sweep you away toward your usual route to the cafeteria, while Viktor strolls behind, full of graceful disdain.

“So, I saw the tables, and…” Jayce clears his throat, chattering into your ear. “I’ve seen the pairs! We can share a lab, I’m paired with Sky!”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh and pat his shoulder—a touch saying more than a thousand words. Words that say how much you can’t wait for another round of throwing objects at Viktor, while Jayce scrambles to catch anything that might hurt Sky.

“Oh, are you not happy about the distribution of projects?” Viktor asks, a small smile playing at his lips.

“The project is fine. The distribution… I’m sure you understand.” You throw him an acidic smirk, your eyes empty of any emotion save for one slow blink. Neural Interface for Prosthetics is actually an incredibly good project—Heimerdinger got you there, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Well, maybe you could be just a little more grateful had he paired you with Jayce or Sky.

“Eh, you will forgive me, but I do not.” Viktor pauses and looks at you—challenging you. And you really hate it, because it works. “I do not wish to have the project jeopardized by something silly, as the topic itself aligns with my interests.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual, Viktor. Can we please eat? I am about to eat one of you if we don’t go to the cafeteria right now,” you sigh, exasperated, and your stomach growls to support your claim.

“You can eat me!” Jayce lands face down between your bickering, and you just laugh, completely disarmed.

Once you finally sit down, Viktor simply opens a book next to his tray, ignoring both you and Jayce completely—obviously sulking about something. Jayce, on the other hand, takes massive bites of his sandwich, staring at you intensely, as if willing you to spill the tea. When that doesn’t work, he speaks.

“So… who’s the new guy?” he elbows you playfully and you can barely understand him with his mouth full. But his eyes say it all—he is dying to know.

"Jayce, you’re so transparent I almost can’t see you. Where are you, Jayce? Where did you go?" You wave your hands around dramatically. He almost chokes. Viktor scoffs, unimpressed, barely glancing up from his book as he stirs sweetmilk into his coffee.

Once the immediate hazard of death by choking is under control, Jayce flashes one of those earnest grins—one that practically screams what a good person he is, full of pure intentions. "Oh, shut up. He seems nice, and I’m curious."

"He’s just a guy, nothing more," you hum, taking a sip of your coffee. And even though you have no idea if that little encounter will go anywhere, you can’t resist adding a pin. "Yet."

Viktor looks like he is holding back a scoff, so he just turns the page in his book with a violent sweep.

"Well… do you like him?" Jayce presses, oblivious to the tension at the table. He’s just such a gossip girl.

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you alright? Why are you so interested?"

Jayce shrugs. "I don’t know, I always thought you’d end up with someone of equal… interests?" Intelligence is what he really means. But that would be cruel. Just because a guy plays rugby doesn’t mean he’s brain damaged. Surely.

"Oh please, I hate STEM bros." You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms with an air of finality, as if that settles the matter. You do hate STEM bros. They are full of themselves, have no respect for women and look down on you.

Jayce raises an eyebrow, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Erm… you are a STEM bro."

Viktor finally looks up from his book, watching you with the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as if mortally offended. "Jayce Talis! I am a lady! Not a bro!"

That is Viktor’s cue. “I don’t think that lack of testicles classifies you as a lady instantly,” he says in a deadpan voice.

And you don’t know what pushes your stupid mind to say it. Is it just muscle memory—your tongue snapping back whenever you talk to Viktor—or an actual intention to say something mean to him? You really don’t know. In one breath, you say, voice equally dead to his, “Of course not. If that were the case, you’d classify as a lady as well,” and watch the chaos unravel.

None of that happens, though. The underwhelming events carry on in painfully slow motion—Jayce’s eyes widening so much there’s a real threat they might never close again, while Viktor gulps his coffee with an agonisingly slow bob of his Adam’s apple. It’s only when he’s done that you realise he was fighting not to choke on it—because the next moment, he bursts into laughter, covering his face with his hand.

Jayce exhales the breath he was holding and laughs as well—you’re not sure if it’s at your joke or simply at the sight of Viktor laughing so openly, an event so rare it shouldn’t go uncherished. Despite yourself, you grin. Indeed, Viktor’s face—his eyes squeezed shut to the point of a tear slipping from beneath his long lashes, smile lines filling out his hollowed cheeks, his teeth bared in an uninhibited cackle—is a sight to behold.

The stupid thing in your chest stutters, as Viktor wheezes and lowers his hand to rest on yours. “Remind me to never cross you again. Merciless is an understatement,” he says, barely, with a really warm smile and you find yourself blushing again, for the second time in a mere hour. Because of two different boys.

And as any moment made of pure magic in the history of magical moments, this one doesn’t last either. It gets violently interrupted by a buzz of your phone on the table.

If you wanna take a stroll, I have a free period now :) We can meet by the fountain. Joe, in case you wonder who this is :)

And your blush deepens. You calculate options in your mind and soon decide on the what the hell one. “I’m gonna scram boys. See you in the lab after class?”

“Yes. Please bring the less… distracted version of yourself if you can,” Viktor states and all the warmth evaporates from him at once. Back to the usual version of himself—sharp wit, balancing on the verge of cutting.

As you mumble an absent, “I’ll do my best,” and wave them goodbye, Jayce returns to his sandwich and sighs knowingly.

“You know… wouldn’t kill you to be a little bit nicer,” Jayce says, leaning forward on his elbows. His voice is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it, like he’s prodding at something fragile just to see if it will break.

“This is me being nice,” Viktor replies in a neutral tone, lifting his coffee to his lips. The steam curls around his face as he takes a slow sip, his expression unmoving. He is being nice. He is trying to be nice. It’s just sometimes completely impossible to be nice to you when you get like this. Distracted. He scoffs to himself. It’s a strange friendship you have there, but it’s a friendship nevertheless—or so he likes to think.

Jayce studies him, his gaze sharp despite the lazy way he’s chewing the inside of his cheek. “No, that is just you being… well, you,” he says bluntly, tilting his head as if he’s considering whether to push further. “Being a dick is not a way to a lady’s heart.”

Viktor arches a brow, unimpressed. “Excuse me, but have we experienced the same scene? I was the one being offended and laughed it off like a gentleman, thank you.” He gestures vaguely with his cup, his fingers tightening just slightly around the ceramic.

Jayce narrows his eyes. “Then why are you so annoyed in the first place?”

“I am not annoyed,” Viktor states flatly, setting his coffee down with a little more force than necessary. He smooths his hands over his sweater as he rises from his seat, already turning away before Jayce can open his mouth again. “I am great. I am so great, in fact, that I will go and start working on that project. See you, Jayce.”

And then he just strides off, his cane tapping against the floor, leaving Jayce mid-sentence with his mouth open, eyes blinking slowly.

Of course, he is not annoyed. Maybe only slightly—and only because you’ve somehow managed to gain another distraction in your life right before you were about to start working on the biggest project of the year. And it’s just, well, fucking annoying.

***

When you glance at your watch, you yelp and press a hand to your forehead. “Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath before breaking into a sprint toward the lab.

Viktor is going to kill you—especially since there’s no way to prove you were caught up in something important.

Because, well, you weren’t. It was Joe who took up all your time this afternoon. And he is… surprisingly nice. And smart.

You hadn’t expected that.

What started as a casual conversation somehow stretched into something far longer, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. He had opinions on films—actual opinions, not just generic statements about “liking action movies.” He had read some of the same books as you and even suggested a few you begrudgingly admitted sounded interesting. Sports came up, of course, but he spoke about them with a self-awareness that made it bearable. And when the conversation dipped into politics, he didn’t say anything that made you want to throw your coffee in his face. That alone was impressive.

It was… weirdly comfortable. Easy, even. Even when he lingered.

Joe’s gaze held onto you a second longer than necessary, like he was memorising the way you looked when you laughed. And when he hugged you goodbye, his arms stayed around you for just a breath too many. The slow way he untangled himself from you made it clear that if you hadn’t pulled away first, he wouldn’t have been the one to let go.

Shaking off the last remnants of Joe from your thoughts, you push through the heavy lab doors with a hurried stumble, your breath still uneven from the rush.

“Sorry, I’m late, guys—” The words die in your throat as you take in the empty room.

Only Viktor.

He stands at the workbench, sleeves pushed up, hands meticulously adjusting the placement of various tools and notes. At the sound of your voice, he pauses but doesn’t turn around immediately. The rhythmic ticking of the clock fills the silence, marking the seconds you take to process the situation.

No Jayce. No Sky. Just Viktor, and the sharp scent of metal and oil clinging to the air.

“Glad you could make it,” he remarks, finally turning his head just enough to glance at you. His voice is even, but something about it feels... off. You can’t tell if he’s irritated or merely stating a fact. Maybe both.

“Sorry,” you sigh, setting your things down with a thud. “I lost track of time.”

“With your new himbo.” It isn’t a question.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. “Yes. And his name is Joe, Viktor, not a new himbo.”

Viktor hums—a short, unimpressed sound—and resumes his work, carefully aligning a set of blueprints. Somehow, his silence feels louder than an argument.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, more to yourself than to him, or rather into the empty space between you and Viktor, which seems to be expanding with each passing second.

“And where are Jayce and Sky?”

“They managed to sketch out the roadmap for themselves in the time you spent with Joe and decided they needed the library for further planning,” Viktor replies flatly, still not looking at you. The way he deliberately keeps his gaze averted only emphasises how much has been accomplished in your presumably very long moment of indulgence. How nice.

“Alright, would you like me to crucify myself, or do you want the honours?” Impatience gets the better of you, and you fold your arms tightly across your chest.

At that, Viktor’s hands still over the workbench. His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, though his gaze remains fixed on the floor, as if acknowledging you fully would be a waste of effort.

“I am merely stating a fact,” he says, his voice low, clipped. “This is more important than some affairs, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, really, Viktor?” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And here I thought thirty percent of my grade was worth sacrificing for some sloppy making out—but thank you so much for finally making me see the error of my ways.”

That makes him look.

And he is angry.

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing, gears visibly grinding in his mind as he weighs whether you’re just riling him up or—God forbid—whether you actually have made out with Joe.

His jaw tightens. “Just get to work already, will you?”

You say nothing, only flash him an acrid smile before reaching for your goggles on the workbench.

The two of you work in almost deafening silence, broken only by the occasional exchange of necessary questions and answers. You retrieve materials while Viktor arranges the workspace, and you scribble down the general plan on the blackboard, the tension in the air palpable.

Each time the chalk screeches against the surface, Viktor visibly winces, hissing under his breath and sinking his head between his shoulders in an exaggerated display of agony.

You roll your eyes but say nothing.

“Could you maybe try a little harder to make it less cacographic?” he mutters, irritation creeping into his voice.

The suddenness of it startles you just as you’re making another stroke, and the chalk lets out a bone-chilling whine against the board.

Viktor flinches violently, covering his ears. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, voice muffled behind his palms. “Let me do it.” He steps forward, reaching for the chalk without hesitation.

You anticipate the move, tucking your arm behind your back in defiance. A childish gesture, maybe, but if he’s going to be an ass about it, you’re not about to make it easy for him.

He doesn’t stop. He closes the distance between you in a few sharp steps, his expression taut with frustration. Before you can react, his fingers wrap around your wrist—tight, unrelenting. He pries your hand forward and gives a firm shake, forcing your fingers to unclench until the chalk drops neatly into his waiting palm.

A sharp twinge shoots up your arm. It’s not painful exactly, but it’s close enough to make you wince.

Snatching your hand back, you massage your wrist, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

For a brief second, something flickers across Viktor’s face—regret, maybe. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, buried beneath the same rigid composure he always wears like armour. He doesn’t apologise. Doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he turns to the board and begins writing, his tone stripped of anything resembling warmth.

“I want to wrap this up before tomorrow,” he says flatly, chalk gliding across the surface with sharp, efficient strokes. “And you are being thoroughly incompetent. I told you to bring yourself not distracted.”

You let out a sharp scoff. “Okay, I am so sorry I was late. I’ll stay longer and finish up whatever we don’t get done in time. But you are outdoing yourself in being a complete twat today.”

You don’t wait for a response. Instead, you march over to the workbench, hands immediately finding the prototype components. If you focus on the task, maybe you won’t be tempted to launch something at Viktor’s insufferable head.

“Oh please, I do not trust anything you do without supervision,” Viktor says, scribbling quietly on the board, somehow making a point out of it.

“Viktor, are you serious right now? We literally have the same grades,” you huff, leaning over the table to pick up the components you need. You do your best to tune him out—his bickering is only distracting, and you need to rewire the prototype from the previous project.

Overall, the task is simple enough. The device is built around an EEG-based neural interface—a system that reads electrical activity in the brain and translates it into signals that can control a mechanical limb. In practical terms, the user wears a headband fitted with electrodes that detect neural impulses associated with movement. These signals then travel through a processing unit, which refines the input before transmitting it to the prosthetic itself.

That’s the easy part. The rest, well.

The prototype you’re working on today is a refinement of an earlier model. The previous iteration had suffered from signal lag and inconsistent responsiveness—issues you’re hoping to correct by integrating a new set of circuits and refining the algorithm for noise reduction.

You grab the headband from the pile of equipment, turning it over in your hands. It should work just fine if you tweak the wiring to accommodate the new design. Without thinking too much about it, you start securing the circuits, fingers working on autopilot as you weave the delicate wires through the correct channels.

Or at least, you think they’re correct—until Viktor’s voice cuts through your focus again.

“Are you even listening to me? What are you doing?” His tone is sharp, irritated—like he’s already asked this more than once.

Your expression tightens as he strides over to the bench, clearly unimpressed. “I just rewired it. Nothing too complex,” you mutter, adjusting a loose wire before reaching for the power switch.

Viktor doesn’t look convinced. He picks up the headband, turning it over in his hands with a scrutinising gaze. “Nothing too complex,” he repeats dryly. “Yes, because neural interfaces are famously simple. I’d rather be sure. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, reaching over and flipping the switch.

The reaction is instant.

A sharp jolt cracks through the air, followed by a strangled, almost undignified yelp as Viktor jerks back, dropping the headband as if it has burned him. His entire body stiffens, fingers twitching violently for a brief second before he stumbles, gripping the workbench for support, blinking rapidly.

Your mouth falls open. “Oh—shit—Viktor—”

He exhales sharply, pressing a hand to his chest, his face twisted in a grimace. “Wonderful,” he grits out. “So that’s what you rewired.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, rushing to him, ignoring the sharpness of his tone. Your hands instinctively cup his face as you lean in. He blinks, startled, his mouth parting at the sudden concern—your brows furrowed, eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he says flatly. “You’ve electrocuted me.” His hands move to seize your wrists, but you twist away before he can. Your palms return to his face, fingers framing him gently, and Viktor’s breath hitches.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, voice genuine. You are truly sorry, the worry overriding all the anger you had for him mere seconds ago. And Viktor has no idea how to react to this. He stands there, breath unsteady, before muttering, “I’m fine.”

You blink, straightening, and Viktor is almost ready to exhale in relief—until your hands shift again, this time pressing against his chest and back, cradling his heart between your palms. You stand beside him, hands firm but careful, instinct guiding you more than knowledge. You don’t even know if this is what you’re supposed to do for someone who’s been electrocuted, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

His heart thunders beneath your touch. The silence is so heavy you can hear yourself gulp on the lump in your throat. You don’t hate him that much, and you hope he knows it.

Finally, Viktor speaks, his breath still rattling. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in your touch after all.” He tries to sound wicked, but there is no venom in his voice.

“Viktor, you bastard. When have I not been kind to you?” you respond playfully, your hands still pressed against him.

“Ah, well. When you implied my alleged castration is the first that comes to mind. But rest assured, my testicles are good and well. I’d show you, but I’m afraid someone has already filled this position in your life,” he trails off, slipping back into his seemingly unbothered attitude.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. Still, your fingers linger, as if trying to determine whether his heartbeat is elevated from the shock or something else entirely. Or is it always like this? You don’t dare to ask.

Viktor tilts his head, watching you. “What about?”

“Any of it. You make me fucking gag,” you scoff, finally sliding your hands off him.

“Not yet—but I could.”

You barely have time to register the shift before he catches your hand, his thumb pressing against your palm. A slight twitch makes your fingers curl around his.

“You could what?”

“Make you gag.” The words slip out just as a smirk blooms on his face, faster than he can think to stop either. He can’t tell if he regrets them immediately.

The figurative pin drops. A high-pitched whine rings in your ears. Viktor’s gaze is drilled into you, thumb still pressing into your palm.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t miss a beat. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in you after all,” you murmur.

“Ah, for you. Only kindness, nothing else,” Viktor hums, his voice a low purr as his thumb idly circles the centre of your palm. His grip is loose enough that you could pull away, yet you don’t. His eyes flicker with something unreadable—something that makes your breath catch before you force yourself to scoff.

“Yeah, right.”

His smirk deepens. “When have I not been kind to you?”

“Like… ever?” You raise a brow, tilting your head as if you’re genuinely considering it. “You mock me. You think I’m outright stupid and don’t deserve my spot in class. You constantly correct me and fight me over solutions. You hate working with me, scoff at me, and laugh me out in front of Jayce. And Sky.”

Viktor clicks his tongue, his fingers squeezing yours ever so slightly. “Such is my love language.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Oh, forget it.” You finally try to pull your hand away, but Viktor doesn’t let go just yet, his grip tightening for half a second before he releases you—only for his cane to hook lightly around your wrist, stopping you mid-motion.

“Wait.” His voice is softer now, coaxing. When you glance at him, there’s something else in his gaze, something warmer, but it’s masked beneath that ever-present air of a prank. “I almost died, you shouldn’t leave me.”

You gape at him. “Viktor—”

“Alright, alright! I surrender.” He chuckles, but there’s something breathless in it. His fingers twitch against his cane. “Wait. Please.”

The sudden plea stills you. Your heart stumbles over itself before you swallow and straighten your posture, crossing your arms in an attempt to shake the feeling off.

Viktor exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before returning his gaze to you. “I do not mock you or laugh you out. I simply jest—I do that with Jayce all the time. You should have noticed by now.”

You purse your lips, unimpressed.

“I do not correct you,” he continues, his voice lilting, as if this is all some grand performance. “I offer you my point of view. And I do not fight you—I simply enjoy some intellectual sparring. Not many can provide one that satisfies me.”

Your fingers twitch, nerves sparking beneath your skin at the way he says satisfies, but you ignore it. Instead, you level him with a flat stare.

“You’re just gaslighting me at this point, Viktor. At least give me a head start before you snap my neck with this thing one day.” You tap the end of his cane with a pointed look.

Viktor grins—slow, wicked. His weight shifts, allowing the cane to rest a little heavier against your wrist, his fingers curling just slightly around the handle.

“Oh, come now. That would be far too merciful.”

Your stomach flips, and you hate that it does.

“Are you going to be good to me now?” Viktor asks, his voice so low you barely hear it, but the weight of it settles deep in your chest.

He takes a step closer, and your breath catches when you feel it—his exhale, warm against your skin, ghosting over your lips. His fingers brush against your wrist, the same one he had seized not long ago. A touch that lingers.

“You have almost killed me, after all.” You watch his lips twisted in a smile you’ve never seen before. And it scares you for some reason.

“Stop this,” you say, firmer than you expected, yanking your hand away. You clutch it to your chest like a wound, like something fragile he might pry apart if given the chance.

Viktor tilts his head, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Why?”

Your throat tightens. “You know goddamn well why.” You take a step back, shaking your head, something bitter curling in your gut. “I am not your project, you dick.”

Viktor’s expression shifts—his smirk falters, lips parting slightly as if caught off guard. “Hey, that is not what I meant—”

But you don’t let him finish. You pivot on your heel, retreating towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You need distance. The lab suddenly feels too small, the air too thick, charged with something neither of you were prepared for.

Behind you, Viktor’s voice follows, just a step behind. “Wait—”

You don’t.

The door swings shut behind you, and Viktor is left standing in the empty lab, staring after where you had just been.

A long exhale leaves him, and he runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath,

“Well, damn. That backfired.”

He frowns to himself, rolling his jaw as if trying to make sense of what just happened—of what he just did.

And for the first time in a long while, Viktor realises he doesn’t have a formula for this.

[gatorbites-imagines]

hi!! This is my first request, ever!! I am in dire need of more Tim Drake content. I absolutely love the way you write. Perhaps a continuation of the 2024 kinktober one? Or just anything you’re feeling.

I love your writing so much I don’t care what you write, just something with Tim please (been going down a DC rabbit hole) 🙏

Don’t push yourself if you don’t want to do this ask, just thought I’d try my luck !!

Take care of yourself!

-🖍️ anon

Tim Drake x male reader

Headcanons

Reader is a knight, somehow. Because I’ve been eating up kingdom come 2 all week. And you probably get real sweaty under all that armor.

Yall would be shocked how hard I was struggling not to add a whole chunk about feet in this, for some reason. I don’t even think I’m into that??

How you got to the present doesn’t matter much. Maybe you are some magical hero from times long passed who live forever, or you are some chosen one from a different realm. Maybe you are even from our time, but you were chosen by some ancient deity to become their sword. You were a knight, somehow.

Being a knight meant you needed to train, a lot. Be it with a sword, a spear, bows, maces, no on and so forth. You also needed to train in your armor, which of course had to be a full body covering one, but whatever gives you power lets you be flexible in it.

At least your boyfriend, Tim, loved to watch you work out. It made the suffering of the sweaty armor and grueling work somewhat worth it.

Tim was a Gothamite, so of course hes into having a boyfriend who can slice the head off an enemy from horseback, or having a boyfriend who can hit someone thousands of meters away with an old-school bow.

You also both knew that Tim loved all your training for one other very important reason. Or maybe it was multiple other reasons. It meant you got to throw him around, sometimes with armor and sometimes without. But it also meant that you were sweating buckets at the end of the day.

It was a bit of a ritual for Tim to help you take your layers off, all the way down to your chemise and braise, which would be almost see-through from sweat as it stuck to your body like a second layer of skin.

Tim, being a bat, meant it took you a while to realize just how into it your boyfriend was. He was good at hiding it, also feeling embarrassed about it and all.

This meant that in the beginning, Tim really was just helping you take all the shiny armor off, saving the memories of your scent and the feeling of your sweaty body for later, when he was finally alone.

You get it out of him one way or another, most likely from feeling real hot under the collar yourself, so you pull him in for a kiss. Being all up and personal without the layers of metal between you, also means you can feel just how hard Tim is.

It takes some prying, kissing, and you hooking both your arms around him so his face is smushed into your sweaty chest hair for Tim to admit his attraction to you like this. He always loves you, but like this? God, you are like ambrosia.

After that you keep letting him help undress you after long days of battle or training, but now you have a better eye for what turns him on.

It’s hard to suppress your own shudder of excitement when you see his eyes laser focused on your pits when you stretch your arms behind your head, to shake out the soreness.

It was hard to imagine any Bat allowing themselves to want something so much, but it also made you feel almost warm inside, knowing Tim felt safe enough with you to express these wants and urges.

And yeah, maybe you start really making a show out of it, stretching and groaning, flexing your body to show off your sweat-glistening body, posing just right for the light to reflect off of you like a glazed donut.

Tim was of course a huge fan, burying his hands in your body and feeling you all over, only seeming to grow more giddy with time as you let him get his fill. He did seem really shy about wanting to lick your pits when you asked though, but he clearly wanted it.

Maybe it started out smaller, like kissing and rutting together after training or battles after you get the armor off.

Then it becomes you grabbing the back of Tims head and telling him to lick your neck or chest, and Tim is very happy to go along with it. When you coax his face up under your arms he freezes for a moment before just burying it in there, snuffling like a pig in mud when he really gets going.

It’s a bit of an ego boost, to have a guy like Tim huffing up your scent and moaning like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever smelled and tasted. His desperate rutting against you only adding to it, like the cherry on top of the sundae.

Coming at Tim in armor makes him do a doubletake, since you went into this training session without a cod piece for your armor, and the chainmail pulled up and to the side just enough to give Tim enough room to bury his face between your thighs.

It becomes one of his favorite spots to be, kneeling by your feet, face tucked into the area where your thighs meet your body, his nose pressed into that crease as his tongue laps at you. Even better if you grip at his hair with your armor-clad hands.

The clinking of your armor becomes a bit like a pavloving response, in both of you. Specifically, the sound of your armor being taken off, as well as the smell of the polish you use for it. It’s a bit embarrassing sometimes, but at least you have a layer of metal to hide how hard you get sometimes.

And as much as you let Tim lick and worship your body after workouts, you still drag him into the showers afterwards. For a good winddown, but also because you guys have so many friends and allies with sensitive noses. You don’t wanna scar then more than you two probably have.

[theshiftingwitch]

How to manifest an sp

The fastest and easiest way:

One thing I can tell you about me that I have reserved the right to brag about, is that I've never ever failed at manifesting a specific person.

Even when I didn't know about the law, even when I was still a wide-eyed teenager sauntering through life with bucket loads of anxiety, baseless hope, and religious trauma, I have always manifested every person I've ever wanted. From boyfriends, to friends, to strangers complimenting me on the street randomly for no specific reason whatsoever, when I decided to get a person, I have always succeeded.

It is the easiest thing you will ever do. Now don't give me that look, I can see you already rolling your eyes at your screen saying "I have been trying to manifest my SP for a year and a half and nothing happened, how can you tell me that it's the easiest thing in the world?" Well because I have the experience, the expertise, and the success stories to prove it and I'm going to break it down to you in the simplest of ways, that you're going to manifest your Sp tomorrow morning.

One thing I noticed about everyone trying to manifest a specific person is that most of you (and I want you to take no offense whatsoever to this because we're going to change it immediately) reek of desperation.

You want your SP, and you want them right now, and you will do anything to get them, and you are so desperate that if they were making a reboot for desperate housewives you would get the role effortlessly.

You are a Carrie when you're supposed to be a Samantha. If you haven't seen sex and the city first of all what are you doing? second of all get on it now. But if you have, you will know that Carrie throughout the seasons and the movies was the most desperate bitch anyone has ever seen and all of her relationships ended horrifically including but not limited to being left at the altar by Mr big. Samantha however, was a bad bitch, she knew what she wanted and she got it 100% of the time because she knew she was THAT bitch.

The first thing you need to do is become a Samantha. You need to know your own value, you need to understand that you are the prize, that you should be on the pedestal, that you control this reality and that no man/woman or non-binary person is going to tell you how things are going in your own reality. Stop victimizing yourself, stop waiting on your manifestations, stop waiting for your SP to notice you or text you or acknowledge your existence or leave their 3p behind for you!!! this is your reality and you tell it what the fuck to do.

Your self concept needs to be through the roof, no screw the roof, your self concept needs to be in outer space! you need to think of yourself as God, you need to think of yourself as the only operant power in your reality, you need to think of yourself as if the world will end tomorrow if you decide it would. You need to take care of yourself like the queen (or king, or monarch, we are inclusive here) that you are. Stop overthinking it, stop being desperate, stop waiting for the opportunity for someone else to notice you, notice yourself.

I don't care if your SP is a celebrity. I don't care if you've never met them before in real life, I don't care if you have an enemies to lovers arc that is still developing its enemy portion, I don't care if they think of you as a goblin, as a gremlin walking on two feet, I don't care how they see the world, this is all about you. So you decide who you want to be and carry yourself like that bad bitch.

The second thing you're going to do is decide and fall back. So you decided that your SP is obsessed with you, you decided that your SP is texting you right now as we speak confessing their eternal undying love for you. What are you doing now? Are you holding your phone obsessing over when that text is coming? Are you stalking them on social media to see if they're posting anything or to see if they're online? Are you stalking them to see if there's another girl/boy/person in their life right now? Absolutely the fuck not. You affirmed, you decided, you put things in motion. Now you're going to put your phone down and you're going to screw off to do something else. Go read a book, go watch a TV show, go rearrange your wardrobe and throw away anything you're not wearing anymore, go put on a full face of makeup and take pictures just for the hell of it, go hang out with your friends or bully or younger sibling or go for a walk. Touch grass. Stare at the sun or the moon and acknowledge that you are just as fantastic and magnificent and beautiful and Powerful as that luminary goddess in the sky. The point is, you decided! you put things in motion! there is no reason for you to be checking the 3D every 2 seconds saying "oh where's my manifestation? where is my text? where's my SP?" who the fuck cares? Your SP is currently spiraling, they are losing their goddamn mind trying to come up with the perfect text to send to you that will show just how much they're obsessed with you. They're currently losing whatever brain cells they have left trying to figure out what gift to buy you, what grand gesture they're going to win you over with, what clothes they're going to wear on your date, what restaurant they're going to take you to, what car they need to bring so that would make a good impression, what picture they're going to post on social media so that you would notice them... your sp is currently spiraling, I don't need you to do the same thing! you are in control.

And the last thing you are going to do, is to bask in the feeling of a manifestation well received. You already have your SP, and you already went on the dates, and you already posted the soft launch and the hard lunch and everyone in the world knows that you two are together and everyone is congratulating you in your DMs and everyone is liking your pictures and saying "oh my God couple goals! I wish I had someone who loved me like that! I wish I had someone who showed me off like that! I wish I had someone who bought me flowers and gifts and chocolates like that..." everything is going exactly as you wanted it to and everything is perfect in your life and you are feeling amazing! you are feeling on top of the world, you are feeling like THAT bitch because you are THAT bitch. You are Samantha. Act like it.

Neutralize the energy of desperation and bask in the energy of fulfillment.

Manifesting an SP works based on the principle of thought transmission, which means you need to understand that every thought you have about your SP is going directly into their tiny pea sized brain. (And no, I don't mean every single thought, they can't read your mind. I mean thoughts directed at them with the intention of manifesting them, so don't go and spiral thinking that there are vampires out there reading your mind making fun of you, I am talking about manifesting.) So if you think that your SP is obsessed with you, your SP is going to mirror that because we're all one part of the big brain that is the great consciousness and once you send a direct message it will always be received. So stop losing your mind, stop wondering if it's working because it is working because the law never fails. It's what makes it a law. So rest assured that your thoughts are penetrating their brain through thought transmission and they are thinking exactly what you're thinking.

Give it a try, and let me know how it works for you. I look forward to seeing all of your success stories because I know that this is going to work. You are going to manifest that person.

Happy manifesting ❤️

[colie-nne]

i-c-o-n-i-c part 1

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader | instagram au

summary: what it feels like to be the most iconic yet controversial couple in the paddock.

warning: implied age gap, other than that none.

requested: yes | no - REQUESTS ARE OPEN

a/n: so uhm this is part one, planned to post the whole thing but it came to be too long so i'm separating this into two. Hope you like it!!

yourusername added to their story

(caption: hello, monaco🇲🇨)

Daily WAG updates

158,219 likes

Daily WAG updates Lewis Hamilton's new girlfriend, Y/n L/n, was seen entering the paddock for the Monaco Grand Prix qualifying sessions, three months after confirming their relationship. (photos are from Twitter and y/n's latest story: yourusername)

view all 503 comments

user a lewis girl, it's been so long omy!!!🤍

user is it true that she's younger than him

user yes! people say she's only in her early twenties user i heard she was... user OH WHAT?

user another one using the drivers for fame 🤮🤮🤮

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, mickschumacher and 1,540,965 others

lewishamilton Great race today, experienced a few mishaps but everything ended up good. Nice work coming from the team, who's always giving their best. Felt real support and love this weekend. Merci, Monaco 🇲🇨. (28/05/2023)

view all 5,978 comments

yourusername always the greatest ❤️

lewishamilton 😘 user i can't believe she got lewis to use that emoji, so cute!!! user the support he's missing has arrived

user and he has posted her....

user wanna bet that he'll drop her in a few weeks? user you do know they've been together for almost a year before going public right?

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 67,920 others

yourusername Thank you for the experience, Monaco. See you!

also, lewishamilton can i have your number? 🫣

view all 3,022 comments

lewishamilton nope, sorry ❤️

georgerussell63 no, he's already with me yourusername oh ok❤️ user not george fighting for lewis 😂

user his smile !!! and that last pic, they're so cute

user don't you guys find it weird that she's closer to george and mick's age, yet she's dating him?

user she's an adult, she knows what she's doing. user yeah, she knows how to spend his money😒

mercedesamgf1 we can give you his number in exchange for those cookies you brought last time.

yourusername sure!! great, thank you!!😊 user i like how his team likes her with lewis

Daily WAG updates

99,073 likes

Daily WAG updates Y/n L/n spotted shopping around Monte Carlo with Mercedes' Lewis Hamilton (02/06/2023)

view all 745 comments

user and there goes his money

user her family is known in the business industry and that y/n herself is a businesswoman, i don't think she needs lewis' money tbh

user what a golddigger at such a young age

user Y/n's so pretty!! i see why lewis is with her

user yeah, she's also very sweet, cause I happen to be there when they were shopping and when I asked lewis for a picture she asked me if she could take it instead!! she also gave me that cookie his team was raving on about

user their age difference still bothers me... he's like 13 years older than her

user but they did say they met when she was 20 so nothing's wrong user i still think it's too big of an age gap

lewishamilton

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 1,875,289 others

lewishamilton Silver in Spain 💥💥 Great work from everyone as always. Congratulations on a good race to georgerussell63 as well. Felt the support and love this weekend as well. Thank you for the team and yourusername❤️ for being there !! Some post race and after party pics (04/06/2023)

view all 4,092 comments

user the heart!!! the heart oooooo!! congrats to lewis and george!!

user the are the it couple!! very very iconic, always serving

yourusername i will always be there for you, my heart

lewishamilton as i to you user this is so sweet it's making me sick carlossainz55 now show love to my bucket hat

user the support and motivation y/n gives lewis is phenomenal, she should attend the races so we can see our man be p1 again

user why is she always with lewis?? all she does is pose around the paddock

user uhm because they're together? user they should really break up at this point. i also can't see lewis settling with someone much younger than him user are we really still talking about the age gap or you're just saying that to throw hate on y/n??

Daily WAG updates

263,259 likes

Daily WAG updates After being inactive for weeks, Y/n has made her account private. Lewis has yet made a statement after the hate thread the two has been receiving. (28/06/2023)

view all 3,178 comments

user i feel so sad for her, the fact that they had to hide their relationship for almost a year and the time they chose to public you've doubled up on the hate train. ya'll just jealous of her at this point.

user oh no!!! people be calling themselves fans of Lewis but will make his love ones go on private because of your delusional asses.

user FINALLY!!! Now, i just need the announcement that they broke up. it doesn't need to be today, tomorrow, or next week i just need it to happen.

user girl... are you sick? user no you guys are cause that girl was obviously using lewis and his money for her own gains user you guys literally bullied the poor girl into hiding.

user i wonder what lewis have to say after all this... i'm deeply sadden by the suddent course of this, nothing like i expected.

user so this is the reason she hasn;t been posting lately... hoping she'll come back when she's ready, i'll miss seeing her posts with lewis they're adorable.

[voidcat]

synopsis: having partially dyed hair is more than just a mere, fun fashion statement in division one– a fact you forgot about until it’s about too late

characters: Narumi Gen, gn!reader (working at jakdf, unspecified but implied to be closely related to Narumi) (their relationship with one another left up to readers’ speculation^^)

notes: hi it’s 1am this was supposed to be shorter uh anyway… inspired by real life events of dying my hair first and noticing hours later I now match w nrm… hate him sm can u believe (<- lies)

When you find yourself on the steps of the base, freshly returned from a much needed leave-- much to your initial dismay, you find that it is as you've left.

Unsure if that's a good thing or bad.

Sure, for the never ending chaos of Division One, it's ultimately a blessing that things are exactly as last you've seen. It means during your absance nobody has gotten hurt, or died- yet. But from the looks of it, it seems nothing has exploded either, so you sigh, readjust your jacket and walk the same path you've always done for countless days and countless nights.

Making a mental note to show your gratitude to Vice Captain Hasegawa for taking... maybe a little extreme measures to send you off to a leave, you greet those you pass with a nod, and occasioanally a hum. Pleased to see everyone with a smile, and maybe surprise as well.

Had they gotten too used to your absance already? Or do you seem visibly different after a proper week's rest.

Listening to the clanking sounds of your heels echoing, you take out your phone to text the platoon leaders and your colleagues a message. A perk of having visited family means you were overfed during the visit. Another one is returning to your home with too much food for even an army. Better to make sure everyone has their fill until the last breath than for it to go spoiled- a sudden giggle from the back distracts your train of thoughts.

When you look back, you spot two in officer uniforms who immediately flee. Odd, but nothing out of the ordinary when you work under the same roof as a certain game obsessed, lazy and clingy mess of a Captain.

Greetings here and there, with formalities and pleasantries, "Long time, no see!", "Looking good, doc!"... the words pour, making you turn your lip. Had you truly looked like a caricature of a workaholic? Or had you really took that little care of yourself as of lately?

The thoughts upset you but you try to push them away. Now that you're few steps away from the main hall, you cannot help but muse about a potential entrance. Maybe something fun? Or serious? You could keep it simple and warm but-- Stop!

Stomping your foot at the same time as that command puts your brain on a pause, you take a deep breath in, and out. Hand shooting up to tuck a strand behind your ear, you push the door open and walk in with a small smile.

"Good morning!.. Did you-"

The words die on your throat in a sudden. Not for the amount of heads turned your way- no, that's a given any time of the day at Division One, but at one particular Captain Narumi Gen looking at you with eyes wide as the moon and his mouth stretched into a smile- grinning from ear to ear like a kid who took a peak at his present way before the unboxing...

A cold bucket of water washes over you as you slowly put two and two together. The comments, the surprised looks, the giggle you caught from an officer, all the platoon officiers with their profile pictures all of which sharing a certain pattern-- hell, you just touched your hair yourself, its usual texture slightly changed for the past week already.

Too caught up in the short moment of peace and serenity, you forgot you dyed the lower half of your hair.– A gesture typically done in Division One to show solidarity, closeness, and one might even say "fondness", to the one and only, bane of your existence, who is walking up to you as you say these in your mind: Narumi Gen himself.

His first move is to throw an arm around your shoulder, which you try and dodge, though he follows with a second attempt- predicting your reactions by now, and succeeding in the act.

Secondly, he tilts his head towards yours, you can feel his body warmth seeping through just from the minimal contact. Between being caught up in your frenzy frozen state and your body instinctually wishing to lean into it; you have to make conscious effort to remain your footing but still maintain a state of fluidity to you.

And thirdly, he cooes at you in a sing song way. Making sure to drag every syllable like a knife twisting inside the wound. “Aaaww… Missed me that much already?”

You don’t need to glance at him to know he is glowing, barely containing himself with giddiness and happiness. You can practically feel it.

You try not to think about the implications of this notion either.

Enough time passes that you gather yourself enough to move and talk without disrupting your composure, you try to break away from his hold, only for Narumi to tighten it and press you to his side.

“W-ell, Captain-“ you ignore him making a sobbing sound at the use of his title, “If you’ll excuse me,” from the corner of your eye, you watch as his other hand goes up to his chin, faking a hum in thought.

“I’d like to catch up on work I’ve missed during the course of—“ “Hm… I think I will not.”

“Tha- What?!” The practiced pleasantry reserved for moments before dozens sets of eyes cut short when you register his words.

Meanwhile Narumi opts to ignore your stiffness and makes a turn in his spot, slowly dragging you with him whether you oblige or not.

“Well, you did ask to be excused and that’s my answer.” All you can muster is breathing through your nose at his words. It’s been, what? Fifteen minutes since you’ve returned? And you feel your patience already put on a trial.

“Simple, no?” He sounds unbothered by the whole thing, ignoring everyone watching the scene before them in suspense. You think, in fear, that if it weren’t for this many people in the room now, he’d pick you up like one of his big sized yamazon order boxes instead of dragging you like a statue.

Your shudder at the thought only makes it worse. Feeling the absence of a certain presence during your week off was one thing you did not want to admit- less so to the subject in question- no you’d rather die than to admit it to his face, it’d save your poor dignity at the very least. However, you didn’t think you’d be cornered on such short notice. Clearly, you’ve underestimated just how easy and big of an effect he holds over you, and your poor nerves.

As your brain is busy rushing between thoughts, you don’t notice that Narumi has dragged you all the way to the door by now. The sudden sound of the door shutting startles you and he slips his arm into yours in this moment of weakness.

“How about we have a share a little breakfast and some quality time first,” he speaks softly, nonchalant as ever, but keeping his voice down for only the two of you.

You know it’s less about the secrecy and more to have some things for just the two of you, something you didn’t think you’d see in him nor appreciate greatly.

You can feel his breath on your ear, again with his warmth spreading all over your body from the close proximity. “Then you can return to whatever work you wish to do. Sounds good?” He concludes his offer but you know it’s not a question. It’s not up to debate and you don’t really get a say in the matter.

Even if you did, you doubt you’d refuse- another thing you’d rather he never finds out, nor hears from you like a secret confessed.

And he does have another point, though unspoken. All your other work falls secondary so long as Captain Narumi Gen lives and breaths, your primary work and responsibility- one, though tricky to handle, is worth the effort made- now with matching hair and everything.

With a sigh, you drop your head in defeat and tighten your now interlocked arms, letting him take the lead with a jump to his steps, mouth curling at the thought that you’ve jumped right back onto the familiar pace. Good to be home.