#everything i am is wrong and shouldn’t exist

[maskedbyghost]

i have a breeding kink but at the same time i have a terrible fear of getting pregnant to the point where ive had nightmares about it and anxiety attacks (especially now that abortions are no longer a constitutional right in the US). yeah, not a great combo when in bed lol

just thought maybe my woe would spark some kind of lil story for ya :)

thank you for the request anon, hope you like it :) cw: breeding kink, smut, +18 content below

You shouldn’t want it... Not like this.

You’re on your back, thighs spread and shaking, and Simon’s weight is pressing down over you, with his hands under your knees, pushing your legs open wide enough that you can feel it in your hips, that sweet ache where stretch meets surrender—but all you really notice is the way he’s looking at you.

A little wild. A little too pleased. Like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head.

"You’re fuckin’ dripping," he mutters against your throat, dragging the thick head of his cock through your folds, teasing you with it, slowly. “You want me to fill you up, yeah?”

Your body screams yes. It pulses with it. You tilt your hips, chasing the friction, heat curling sharp in your belly. That filthy little corner of your brain lights up like a match—the one that wants to hear him say it, again and again. That he’s going to put a baby into you. That your body’s his, made to take it.

But just behind that is the fear. Always is.

The kind that hits in the dead of night, heart racing, breath stuck in your throat. The kind that makes you double-check your pill pack and panic at a missed period. That terrible, breathless dread of being trapped in your own body. Waking up from a dream where you were pregnant and sobbing like it had already happened.

Your fingers grip the sheets, tension building under your skin, about to snap.

Simon feels it. Of course he does. He always knows.

He stills, just slightly. Doesn’t let go of your legs, doesn’t pull away—he just watches you, his brows pulling together. "Hey."

You blink, trying to smile, but it doesn’t work. “I’m fine. I want it. Just keep going.”

He doesn’t move. "You sure?"

“I am,” you say too fast, then softer, “I think I just… my head’s being weird again.”

That look he gives you—the one that feels like a fucking hand on your heart. He leans in, nose brushing yours, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists, and in that moment, it doesn't.

“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Whatever it is. We don’t play unless it’s good for you. Yeah?”

You swallow, heart hammering. You hate admitting it. Hate feeling like your brain’s betraying your body.

“I like it,” you say quietly. “The dirty talk. The whole—breeding thing. I need it sometimes. But I’m also terrified. Like, terrified of actually getting pregnant. It’s… bad. Nightmares, panic attacks...”

His jaw ticks. Just once. That barely contained fury that only shows up when he’s angry on your behalf.

“Fuck,” he says. “Alright. Come here.”

He pulls you in, lets your legs wrap around his waist, chest to chest now, holding you close, grounding you. One big hand slides up your back, the other gripping your thigh, his voice right at your ear.

“You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Then let me take care of you.”

You nod against his shoulder, and that’s all he needs.

“Good girl,” he breathes, then pulls his hips back, just enough to push his cock against you again. “Gonna give you everything you want, every filthy fuckin’ word. Gonna ruin you like I’m tryin’ to knock you up. But I won’t. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want, yeah?”

You whimper. “Yes, Simon. Please.”

“God, you sound so sweet like this,” he groans, sliding in, inch by inch. “So needy. You like when I talk like that, don’t you? Gets you so wet, you don’t even care how wrong it sounds.”

He bottoms out with a growl, and your back arches off the bed. You’re already close, tension thrumming under your skin, clenching around him like your body’s begging to be used.

“Look at this little cunt,” he pants, pulling out halfway just to slam back in. “Taking all of me like it wants it. Like it’s fuckin’ desperate for it.”

You’re gasping now, fingers digging into his back, losing yourself to the rhythm, to the stretch, to the low, filthy sound of his voice.

“You want it, don’t you?” he whispers darkly, lips against your jaw. “Wanna be full of me. Wanna let me fuck you raw and finish inside, over and over until you’re leaking, stuffed, ruined.”

“Yes—Simon, yes—”

“But you don’t have to be scared,” he says, voice dropping lower, sweet and vicious. “You’re safe with me. I’ve got you. Always.”

And somehow that undoing feels different.

Like you can want it—really want it—and still be safe.

He fucks you through it, one hand on your belly, pressing down just a little, groaning when you flutter around him.

“Feel that?” he growls. “That’s me. Deep as I can go. Where I belong.”

Your eyes roll back. You're shaking under him, every nerve lit up, body raw with pleasure.

And then he’s coming too, face buried in your neck, groaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

He pulls out slowly and carefully. Your thighs are trembling, slick between them, and he’s already wiping you down with a warm cloth before you can even blink. No words—just his soft hands.

Then he climbs back in behind you, draping a blanket over both of you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re not wrong for wanting it,” he says against your temple. “Wantin’ that kind of surrender. You just need someone who knows how to give it to you right.”

You smile, slow and sleepy. “And you’re that someone?”

He huffs. “You fuckin’ know I am.”

And yeah, you really do.

--------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[metalomagnetic]

Canon Marauders meet Fanon Marauders

“I will kill him, James. I simply have to kill him. It’s a duty at this point,” Sirius whispers, at breakfast. 

James is morally opposed to murder, to say the least, but now when he opens his mouth to automatically tell Sirius he can’t kill people, the Abomination walks into the Great Hall, and James closes his mouth, with a sigh. 

He condones it. 

“Can you kill me, too, please?” Remus asks, as he watches his counterpart walk behind the Abomination. 

“Oh, come on! The Other You isn’t so bad.” 

“They’re all bad,” Peter mutters. “Just unbearable to watch.” 

They’ve only arrived in this cursed universe the day before, but it’s already too much to suffer. 

When Sirius met this universe’ version of himself, he had to be restrained from committing unspeakable violence. 

“What’s with the pranks?” James wonders. “Look, they’ve only just entered the Hall and they’ve already pulled a few pranks.” 

“You call those pranks?” Sirius sneers. “Those lame jokes?” 

“They probably take the ‘prankster’ label too seriously,” Peter bemoans. “And I’m missing again. It’s like I don’t even exist here, like those guys forget I’m their best friend.” 

After the Other Sirius, Other Peter was done the dirtiest. He’s much uglier than the real one, far shorter, and so stupid Sirius thinks he shouldn’t even be allowed to attend school. 

Not that Other Sirius is smart- oh, no. Other Sirius is a moron, apparently allergic to books. 

Remus got an upgrade- he’s now a wise genius to rival Dumbledore, and he spends his days giving people chocolate frogs.

It’s a wonder the Abomination is so thin, with how much chocolate he’s getting from Other Remus. 

So thin and short. 

“Why am I short?” Sirius growls. “I don’t know mate, it’s like the creator of this universe misremembered our heights and switched them around,” Remus offers, watching his other self, a very tall bastard. He’s even taller than Real Sirius. 

Outrageous. 

“I could suffer you short,” James says. “But look at him, he’s - why is he so…is that ...nail polish? Gods, what have they done to my Sirius!” 

“I asked him if he still has the bike,” Peter whispers. “He said he does, but I mean- he’s so fragile and dainty, how does he even manage that monster bike?” 

Sirius shakes his head in horror. “I have to kill him, there’s no way around it.” 

The Other Sirius whines in the distance. “MOOOOONY,” he pouts, and that's it, Sirius stands-

“Not here,” James pulls him by his sleeve. “You can’t have witnesses.” 

(-)

It takes them a few days to figure out what’s wrong with Other James. At a first glance, he looked normal, compared to the others. Almost unchanged from his real version, if only stupider. But not as stupid as Other Sirius and Other Peter, of course. 

A chicken wouldn’t be dumber than those guys. 

When they do figure it out, James throws up. 

“There, there,” Sirius pats his back. “Breathe, mate. Breathe.” 

“I’m fucking your brother! Your brother, Sirius!” 

“Oh, no, that is not my brother. That is Other Brother.” 

This version of Regulus is apparently not a bigot at all, it’s all just a big misunderstanding. He’s an Animagus, too, somehow. 

Sirius actually thinks Other Regulus is an alright lad- nothing like his brother, mind you, but alright, in general. 

James throws up again. “Me! With Regulus Black! I’m not even gay! I love Lily, and she loves me-” 

“Well, apparently she’s gay, too, in this world.” Remus says, which only makes James cry.

That isn’t so bad, really. Many things are wrong with this universe, but Lily and Dorcas look hot together. Sirius had a wank thinking of them the other night. It’s fine, he tells himself. He’s not betraying James. This Lily is nothing like their Lily back home. This one is like a goddess of beauty here, hair far more vibrant than the Real one, flawless skin and overall perfect in everything she does. Extremely selfless, saint-like, to the point she apparently offered to carry Regulus’ and James’ baby after Hogwarts.

Real Lily would hate her. 

She’s still not worse than Other Sirius. Nothing is worse than that. Real Sirius has taken to bullying Other Sirius, daily. Hourly. The Abomination whines about it to Other Remus all the time. 

“I want a word,” Other Remus hulks over, ridiculously muscular and, for some reason, with scars on his face. 

What the fuck happened to this bloke? Who even is he?

Real Remus slinks back. He was never one for confrontations, their Remus, but apparently this upgraded version is all up for it. 

“Listen,” Sirius tells him, because he doesn’t hate the man- sure, he’s not Remus, but he seems like a nice lad. “Why do you put up with that insufferable drama queen? He deserves to hang, and you deserve better.” 

“That’s my baby! That’s my Pads,” Other Remus says, suddenly all violent, his eyes turn yellow- what the actual fuck? 

But Sirius is already nauseous, stomach turning as soon as he heard ‘baby’ and ‘Pads”  coming out of his mouth. 

Real Remus cheers from the sidelines as Sirius wipes the floor with Other Remus. The Abomination cries somewhere in the distance, all helpless, until Real James hits him over the head with a candlestick. Other James is too busy sucking Other Regulus’ face to notice anything. 

(-)

Other Snape has a split personality, as if someone out there can’t decide if he’s evil reincarnate or a mewling, innocent boy. 

It’s jarring to see the shifts, day to day, and Sirius doesn’t know which version he hates more. 

He never thought he’d miss Snape, but he does. He misses their Snape, gods damn it, the Real one. 

(-)

He finds out his parents- or at least his parents in this world- torture Other Sirius on a daily basis. With the Cruciatus, even. 

Other Regulus tells him this, all traumatised. 

“Well,” Sirius says, shocked to the core. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it. “To be fair, if I had a son like the Abomination, I’d torture, him, too.” 

(-)

Dumbledore is Evil. But stupidly so. Even a random eleven year old saw through his evil plans and humiliated Dumbledore at breakfast. Some smart arse kid, who’s apparently Lord Potter Black Gaunt Slytherin, and talks like an eighty year old politician. Apparently Dumbledore stole his money or something. 

“I wonder how Other Voldemort is like,” James says, anxious to consider it. 

“I don’t even care,” Peter says. “We should join him. It’s either him, or siding with these lunatics.” 

They all nod in agreement. Voldemort can’t be worse- nothing can be worse than Other Sirius and Evil Stupid Dumbledore.  

(-)

There’s two Voldemorts. 

One is practically a ‘cartoon character’ Remus says. Sirius has no idea what that means.

This Voldemort is Ridiculously Evil. 

Insane Bellatrix is his most loyal. For some reason Insane Bellatrix cackles all the time, and mutters about blood and the Cruciatus under her breath. She’s also dressed like a slut. 

Real Bella, like the aristocrat she is, would never be caught looking like that in public. 

Sirius takes her aside to have a few words with her, and then he finds out apparently she, too, was tortured daily by her parents, like Other Sirius. 

“And raped,” she remembers, with a shrug.  

Wow, and Sirius thought the Real versions of the Blacks were bad, but these people take the fucking cake. 

If the Real Blacks would find out what these Other Blacks are doing to their children, there’ll be hell to pay. 

His mum is a right basket case back in his world, insufferable and cruel with her words, unreasonably strict, but if she’d ever find out another version of herself is torturing her children- why, she’d cut that bitch in pieces. 

(-)

The second Other Voldemort is some misunderstood good guy with a sob story. He whines about his tragic childhood as much as Other Sirius. 

At least this Other Voldemort is still tall, unlike Other Sirius. 

“It’s all Dumbledore’s fault,” he ends a monologue. “He made me do all I did. Or-” he checks a list. “Apparently sometimes he simply framed me and I didn’t do anything at all. Also, you can call me Tom, in private,” he invites them. 

It’s a tragic state of affairs. 

They decide to join Ridiculously Evil Voldemort, simply because he’s the only one that wouldn't protest to murdering everyone. He talks about murder every single day, and Sirius promises him he’ll do anything If he’s allowed to kill Other Sirius. 

“Oh, by the way, you should deal with Good Guy Voldemort.” 

“With who?” 

“You know, the hotter you, the one that’s innocent of all wrongs and calls himself Tom.” 

Evil Voldemort has a heart attacks and dies. 

(-)

They’re on the run from everyone in that crazy world, when a hooded figure enters their tent.  

“Is it you? Is it really you?” the man asks. “Potter? Black? Lupin? Pettigrew?’ 

“Yes, it’s us.” 

The person lowers his hood. It’s Snape. Real Snape. With greasy hair and a large nose, but with intelligent, sharp eyes.

There’s no ‘Victim’ stamped on his forehead, nor is he an evil arrogant bastard, like the Other Snape.

“Fuck, Snivellus! A sane person! I could hug you!” 

“I’d rather not,” Snape spits at James. “Alas, I am...relieved to have found you. We need to work together. I came here after you-” 

“Of course you did, you berk! You were stalking us, as usually, weren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Snape says, unashamed. “I killed the Other me.” 

“Good job. I killed the Other me, too,” Sirius boasts. “I took my time with him.” 

“I killed Other Lily,” Snape says. “She had to go. She was all ...wrong.” 

James sniffles. “She was.” 

And then they all sit down, and plan how to kill Good Guy Voldemort and Evil Stupid Dumbledore. 

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens - pt. 4

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: pregnancy words: 1.4k

summary: lando tells yn he loves her after finding out she is pregnant

She wanted to cry. Y/N didn’t want to tell Lando about it. Not yet. She was only around 6 weeks along. Why did he have to find out now? Why didn’t Max close the door? Why wasn’t she more careful? What was she even doing here?

“Just leave, Lando!”, Y/N shouted and wanted to take it back as soon as she saw Lando wince. She pulled knees to her chest and buried her face in the fabric of her dress.

It was such a huge mistake to come to this Grand Prix. Everything went wrong in her life. She hated it.

Max stepped forward to hug his sister.

“It is alright, little one. Everything is going to be ok. Believe me. Just breathe. See, Lando isn’t yelling at you. He isn’t mad. Right, Lando?”, he said glaring at the younger man.

“No! No. Y/N. Why did you think I would be mad? You’re pregnant, right? That should make you happy. It is a baby. A little you. So don’t be scared, please.” Oh, he was so scared. He wanted to scream and wanted to throw himself out of the non-existent window. A baby? A little human? How would he take care of them?

“But. You are so busy and always travelling and we are so young. I am 22! You are not much older! How would we do that”, Y/N sobbed and was embarrassed for being this emotional. Damn hormones.

“Hey. It will all work. It is ok. We are going to be ok. We will have a baby. That’s great!”

Y/N used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears on her face.

“You really aren’t mad?”, she asked, still not really believing Lando.

“No. I really am not. I am happy. I didn’t exactly plan for any of this to happen, but it is nice. Maybe you could come over next week and we could just… talk about it? Maybe it’ll make you feel better? Were you already at the doctors to get the baby checked?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Not, yet. But I have an appointment next week. Then I will find out if the baby’s ok.”

Lando nodded and smiled so Y/N finally allowed herself to calm down. He really wasn’t mad at her for being pregnant. He looked happy.

***

“Max! You don’t understand! I got Verstappen’s sister pregnant!” Lando stared at his friend, Max Fewtrell, in front of him. “This is terrible. We were finally getting along again after he… you know… realized we did it… and now his sister is pregnant because of me!”

“I get it Lando. But you can’t do anything. It is how it is. Didn’t you say you were happy about it? You told her you were. Did you lie?” Max hissed. “Bro you cannot lie to a pregnant woman. Furthermore, you told me you like her so where is the problem?”

“Yes, but we said no feelings! So, I cannot tell her that I have liked her this whole time! But she also shouldn’t be handling the pregnancy alone! Max!”, Lando whined. “I don’t know what to do.” The brunette flopped on the couch.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He definitely had done something wrong in his life. Why didn’t he use a condom? Why…

“Stop beating yourself up, Lando”, Max said. “This is something great. You will have a baby! And you love kids. But maybe you shouldn’t ask yourself if you want to have a baby. If you want to have Y/N as your girlfriend. You should ask yourself if you want to be a dad and a boyfriend.”

“Oh, shut up. Why are you always saying some smart shit.”

“I don’t just say smart shit, I am smart. As the older one of us I have to help you and give you advice for life.”

“You are literally 3 and a half months older… that’s nothing… Max, I really fucked up this time.” Lando buries his face in his hands and sighed. “I want to be a dad. Really. But not yet? I am not ready for this. I am practically a kid myself! I cannot take care of a literal baby.”

“Well, either that or you tell Y/N you don’t want to have a baby and risk her hating you. Your choice, Lando. But don’t decide now. Wait until you know the baby is healthy. Talk to her about your concerns. Think about it. Promise me that, Lando.” Max looked at his friend.

“I will, I promise.”

***

Only an hour later Lando was standing in front of Y/N’s door. He really wanted to wait until next week but just couldn’t. He had to talk to her.

He knocked and only a couple seconds later the door opened, and Y/N was standing in front of him.

“Lando? What are you doing here? It is literally midnight!”

“I am sorry. But I had to talk to you because I talked to Max. Not you brother Max the other Max. My Max. And I want to be there for the baby. And I have feelings for you and I was so scared of telling you because I know we said no feelings involved but they are involved and I wanna be there for you and the baby when it is born and I know I shouldn’t be here at midnight telling you all that because I am probably just sleep deprived or so but. I love you, Y/N.” As soon as he finished talking, Lando took a deep breath and held it, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“That… was a lot”, Y/N finally said. “But I like you too, Lando. From the first time I saw you with those ridiculously good-looking curls and those blue eyes. I would love if you were involved in mine and the baby’s life.”

Lando just stared at Y/N and couldn’t really believe it yet.

“You… you like me too?”, he asked. He would have though Y/N would call him crazy and that she would say she didn’t like him at all, but he definitely didn’t expect this here to happen.

“I do. And you are an idiot if you haven’t noticed it yet.” Y/N said and smiled a little.

“Oh.”

“So… I have the doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? Just making sure the baby is ok. I could use someone to talk to in the waiting room.”

Lando nodded. In that moment he was sure he was the happiest person on earth.

“Do you… no forget it”, Y/N started.

“Do I what? Tell me! You can’t start a sentence like that and then keep me hanging. Tell me!”

Y/N took a deep breath.

“Doyouwannastayherewithme.” Lando stared at her as if she was crazy. What the fuck did she just say? That was too fast for his brain at midnight.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stay here? With me?”

Lando grinned and nodded.

“Yes! Of course. If it is really ok with you.?”

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up with Lando’s arm around her waist. It was warm and she couldn’t help but notice how different it was to wake up next to him, knowing they didn’t fuck last night.

“Morning”, she mumbled sleepily. “We have to get up to go to the appointment.”

The man next to her just groaned.

“Too early.”

“No, sleepyhead. It is already 11 am. Get up.”

Eventually Lando got up and went to the bathroom and only an hour later they were at the doctor’s office.

The doctor was very nice, and Y/N could swear that the nurse recognized Lando but didn’t say anything.

“So, let’s take a look at the baby”, the doctor said as she poured some gel for the ultrasound on Y/N’s abdomen. She placed the probe on it and looked at the monitor.

Then she moved the monitor so Y/N and Lando could both look at it. She pointed on a few grey, black and white areas to explain some stuff.

“And here we see Baby A”, she pointed to another grey blotch. “And there we have Baby B. Both perfectly healthy.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Twins…?”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, you two will have twins. Congratulations!”

A/N: yes i did just post that on the wrong acc… but here we go sorry it took so long to write this! if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist pls tell me bc i don’t know who only wanted to be tagged for this series and who for all the other stuff i will write as well so you will be tagged for everything i will write (sorry i am too chaotic for this world)

taglist:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @I-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss

[lexiputellas]

Jealous? Me? Never

The restaurant is the kind of place where they don’t put prices on the menu—because if you have to ask, you probably shouldn’t be here. Dim candlelight flickers on pristine white tablecloths, and the air hums with soft jazz and whispered conversations.

Everything about this place screams exclusivity. The silverware is heavier than your wristwatch, the chandeliers glow like molten gold, and you’re fairly certain at least two people here have old-money last names carved into European castles.

Alexia, of course, fits in perfectly. She sits across from you in a tailored black suit, draped in effortless elegance, the candlelight casting golden hues on her cheekbones. She doesn’t even have to try—she just belongs.

You wouldn’t say you were a jealous person in past relationships. You were chill, secure. But with Alexia? Oh, you’re very jealous.

Not because you don’t trust her—she’s perfect. But because you don’t trust other people.

She’s one of the best footballers in the world. The captain. A living legend. And, in your very humble and unbiased opinion, the hottest one too. So when the waitress approaches and immediately directs her full attention to Alexia, you start to feel… unquiet.

Not a glance in your direction. Not even an acknowledgment that you exist.

“Good night,” she purrs.

Alexia, ever polite, smiles. “Good night.”

And that’s all she says. Yet, the waitress beams like Alexia just whispered the secrets of the universe to her.

Would you like to acknowledge me, ma’am? I’m right here. Across from the footballing goddess you’re mentally undressing.

But no. She doesn’t even glance at you. Instead, she leans just a little closer to Alexia.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asks, voice velvety smooth.

Not you two. Not you both. Just her.

You sit back, watching, waiting.

Alexia, blissfully unaware of the blatant disrespect happening before your eyes, hums in thought. “We’ll have a bottle of Château Latour 2009,” she says, pronouncing it effortlessly, like she didn’t spend twenty minutes last night reading about Bordeaux wines on the internet. “And two glasses.”

The waitress nods, still maintaining laser focus on Alexia, as if you’re not sitting directly across from her.

Alexia turns to you, finally pulling you into existence. “Baby, do you want something else?”

Oh. Now you exist.

You pick up your menu, pretending to consider your options. “Yes,” you say, voice smooth as silk. You turn directly to the waitress, who is still refusing to meet your gaze.

“I think we should start with the foie gras with black truffle and…” You let the pause stretch just to force her to acknowledge you. “The gold-leaf caviar.”

Alexia hums approvingly. “Good choice.”

She looks back at the waitress. “We’ll take that as well.”

The waitress scribbles the order down, still only looking at Alexia.

Your eye twitches.

Alexia leans back, sipping her water, completely at ease. “It’s nice here, huh?”

You exhale slowly, gripping your napkin. “Mmm.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you say, setting your menu down with an exaggerated smile. “Nothing at all.”

Her smirk is soft, effortless. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She takes another sip of water, watching you with curiosity. Meanwhile, the waitress is at another table, distributing eye contact like it’s not a limited resource.

You glance back at Alexia. “I just think it’s fascinating how I’m sitting right here and yet, somehow, I am a ghost. Very paranormal. Someone should call the Vatican.”

Alexia nods, completely serious. “Yeah, ghosts are real, you know.”

You blink. “What?”

She gestures vaguely. “There was this documentary I watched—”

You groan. “Alexia, focus.”

Her lips twitch. “I am focused.”

“Not on paranormal activity. On the waitress ignoring me.”

Alexia frowns, glancing toward the waitress. “Is she?”

You stare at her. “Are you kidding?

She shrugs. “I mean, I guess she’s been looking at me a lot, but people do that.”

Oh. Oh, that’s rich.

“People do that,” you mimic, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Must be so hard being beautiful and famous.”

Alexia chuckles, reaching for your hand across the table. “Baby, are you jealous?”

You scoff. “Jealous? No.”

Her smirk deepens. “You so are.”

“First of all, I don’t get jealous,” you lie, crossing your arms. “Second, I just think both guests should be acknowledged at a table.”

“Mmm.”

“That’s just basic manners.”

Alexia bites her lip, amused. “You want me to ask her to make eye contact with you?”

“Don’t you dare.”

She laughs, lifting your hand to her lips. “You’re adorable when you’re like this.”

“I’m furious.”

“I know,”she teases, squeezing your fingers. “But I like it.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, do you?”

“Very much.”

The waitress returns with the wine, pouring it smoothly into two glasses. She hands Alexia hers first, of course, smiling like she’s about to ask for her autograph.

Then she places yours down without looking at you.

Oh. Oh, it’s war now.

You inhale sharply.

Alexia, fully enjoying the show, clinks her glass against yours. “To being the most beautiful, most important person in this restaurant.”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you toasting to yourself?”

She shakes her head, tilting her glass toward you. “No, baby. To you.”

You blink. And just like that, all your irritation dissolves into a flustered mess.

Damn her.

[hrrtshape]

okk so since i'm shifting to hogwarts as well i have plenty of questions (sorryy!!) first, what is the structure of the castle like (are the stairs rlly THAT annoying?) and how are the gryffindor dorms& common rooms? and when does school start like august or september? and is the train ride really that long & uncomfortable? how long do classes last and how many each day? what are the extracurricular clubs? and what about parties? and hogsmeade? what were your fav shops? also did you ever go in the restricted section of the library or the forbidden forest? what was it like? and the kitchens? are the elves nice and give you free food all the time (and do they spill tea?) Can you swim in the black lake? what about PEEVES. how is homework like? And tests? Do people actually cheat? and just what do you do in your free time at hogwarts & how do you spend summer/ winter holidays as a witch?? (Sorry for being so annoying but ur my fav blogger here so when i saw u shifted to hogwarts i had to ask)

omg no don’t apologise this is actually so real of you. ok. let’s get into it.

the castle is like a labyrinth designed by someone who was both a genius and clinically insane. the stairs,,,, they are that annoying. you’ll be late to class so often because you took one wrong turn and suddenly you’re in a hallway that shouldn’t exist, which is just fantastic for one’s sense of stability.

gryffindor dorms are very cozy british boarding school realness. red, gold, warm lighting, that distinct fireplace in a cold castle smell. common room is always alive. people arguing over quidditch, someone hexing a chair by accident, a group stress-cramming for an exam at 2am.

school starts in september. they like to traumatise us right before autumn fully kicks in.

the train ride is long, but it’s kinda iconic. like, it starts fun, people are sharing snacks, talking about their summers, but by the last hour, everyone’s asleep or aggressively playing wizard chess. the seats are not built for comfort.

class length varies, but generally, it’s about an hour per class, and you’ll have like 4-5 a day. double potions???????? may god help you.

extracurriculars are insane. like, aside from quidditch, you’ve got stuff like duelling club, potions club (for nerds), gobstones club (for freaks), some more,,, andddddd then some weird secret societies that no one talks about but everyone knows exist.

parties definitely happen. andddd are fun. technically, they’re not allowed, but tell that to the room of requirement. the best ones are usually hosted by slytherins (drama) or gryffindors (chaos). yes the hufflepuffs know where to source weed.

hogsmeade is everything. three broomsticks for butterbeer, honeydukes for a sugar coma, zonko’s for stupid pranks that will get you detention. i lived for scrivenshaft’s because i am a loser who loves stationery.

restricted section. yes. would not recommend unless you enjoy books that whisper your secrets back to you. the forbidden forest. also yes. would also not recommend unless you’re prepared to meet creatures that have absolutely zero business existing.

the kitchens are heaven. the elves WILL feed you at any hour. they do spill tea, but only if you ask very nicely. they know everything.

you can swim in the black lake, but it’s a test of your will to live because it’s freezing and the merpeople do not appreciate visitors. also there were rumours a squid took a child by the leg and so nobody wants to go there anymoreruferiufireuf.

peeves is an asshole. like. truly. he exists purely to make your life harder. he will steal your books, throw ink at your robes, and humiliate you in front of your crush........(yes.). even when you impress him, he'll still make your life harder,,,,,,,by telling everyone he tolerates you meaning the professors will think you're the antichrist

homework is BRUTAL. essays are measured in parchments not words. tests are hell, and yes, people cheat. the ravenclaws have systems.

free time is exploring. hanging out in the astronomy tower. sneaking into hogsmeade. committing mild academic crimes in the library. bla bla bla,,,,can make a whole entire post on that.

holidays as a witch are either spent at home (kind of a reset) or at hogwarts, where it’s actually magical. like, christmas there is insane. snow, decorations, a huge feast, and zero academic responsibility.

there ya go xxxx ask away

[byechristopher]

hellooo can you write a fic where reader and chris have a pregnancy scare?

what could be.

Author's note: thank you for the request, and sorry for being so late, pft. I hope you like it anon, here is an angsty/fluffy fic with Chris. Him and babies make me giddy fr. Don't copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: uhm, none. But y'all.. use protection always. Didn't proofread!

⠀

It started with a simple sentence, one that hung in the air like a grenade waiting to go off.

"My period’s a week late."

Chris froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. The casual dinner we were having, sitting on the couch like we always did, suddenly felt like something fragile, ready to shatter. His face went pale as he put his fork down, staring at me like he hadn’t quite understood what I’d just said.

"What?" His voice was flat, cold.

I shifted uncomfortably, already regretting saying anything. "I’m late, Chris. A week late."

He sat back, his eyes narrowing as if he could will this entire conversation out of existence. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "I thought it was just stress at first, but…"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, the frustration already palpable. "How could this happen?"

The way he said it — like it was some personal failure, like this was my fault, made my blood run cold.

"Uhm, now I don't mean to break it to you.." I snapped, my voice rising defensively, "but we were both there, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps track of this stuff, right? Shouldn’t you have known?" His voice was sharp, accusatory, and it stung.

I stood up from the couch, the tension in my body rising like a tidal wave, "what the actual fuck are you even saying? You think I want this to be happening? You think this is something I wanted to deal with right now?"

Chris got up too, pacing in the small living room, his hands clenched at his sides, "no, I don’t know what the hell you want! All I know is, we’re not ready for this. We can’t be dealing with a fucking baby right now."

I felt the familiar lump forming in my throat, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt. "Chris, we’re in this together, okay? Why are you acting like I did something wrong?"

"Because this is—" He stopped, running his hands over his face. "This changes everything, okay? Everything we’ve been working for. All our plans, all our.. us!"

"What, and a baby ruins all that?" I cut him off, my voice shaking with anger. "Is that what you think? That this would ruin everything?"

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence that followed was louder than any argument we’d ever had. He just stood there, staring at the floor, and I couldn’t tell if he was thinking or trying to come up with a way to end this conversation without making it worse.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Yeah. I think it would."

I blinked, feeling like I’d been slapped. I could feel my heart racing, the adrenaline pushing through me, making me feel sick. "Wow," I whispered, stepping back like I needed space from him, like I couldn’t stand being near him right now. "That’s really how you fucking feel?"

He looked up, his face tight with frustration. "We’re not ready for this. You know that. You’ve got your career just starting to take off, I’m still figuring things out. It’s not the right time."

"You don’t get to decide that for both of us," I shot back, my voice cracking under the weight of the argument. "This is happening, whether you like it or not. What are you going to do if I am pregnant? Walk away?"

Chris’s eyes flashed with something—maybe guilt, maybe regret, I couldn’t tell. "I’m not walking away," he said through gritted teeth, "but I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with this either."

I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t. The hurt and anger tangled up inside me was too much, and if I opened my mouth again, I didn’t trust what would come out. Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his silence chasing me as I went.

For the next day and a half, we barely spoke. Every interaction was charged, electric with the weight of what had been said and left unsaid. He slept on the couch that night, and I didn’t bother asking him to come back to bed. I wasn’t sure I wanted him there.

The test sat on the bathroom counter, waiting for me, taunting me with the unknown. I couldn’t bring myself to take it, not when things between us felt so raw, so fragile. But after another restless night of tossing and turning, I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. I had to know.

When I walked into the living room that morning, Chris was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at his phone. He looked up when I entered, and for a second, there was something in his eyes—regret, maybe. Or guilt. I couldn’t tell.

"I’m taking the test," I said, my voice flat.

He stood up, nodding stiffly. "I’ll come with you."

"Yeah, you don't fucking have to." I said, but he followed me either way.

We walked to the bathroom in silence, and I grabbed the box off the counter with shaking hands. Chris stood by the door, watching me, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t even look at him as I went through the motions, my stomach twisting into knots.

When it was done, we sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the result. The timer on my phone ticked down, each second stretching out longer than the last.

"I’ve been thinking," Chris said suddenly, his voice softer than it had been in days. I glanced at him, unsure of what to expect.

"About what?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About everything. About what I said… how I reacted."

I remained silent.

He hesitated before continuing, "I was scared, okay? I still am. I’m terrified, actually. But… I’ve been thinking. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing."

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

He looked at me, his expression softer now, more open. "I’m not saying it’d be easy. But if you are pregnant, I mean… we’d figure it out, right? We’d get through it."

For the first time in days, I felt a tiny flicker of hope. "You really think so?"

He nodded, his gaze steady on mine. "Yeah. I don’t want to be that guy who just freaks out and runs away. If it happens, I want to be there for you. For both of you."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe we’d been fighting, maybe we were scared, but hearing him say that made me feel like we could actually do this, if we had to.

"And if I really think about it.." he continued, his thumb on my cheek caressing the skin so gently, as if I was a porcelain doll, "the idea of having a little baby with you that looks just like their mom.. yeah, I think I'm fine with that." he teased with a little smile and that's all I needed to hear.

The timer went off, the sharp beep cutting through the air. We both froze, looking at each other.

"Do you want to…?" Chris asked, nodding toward the bathroom.

I shook my head. "You can look."

He stood up, walking over to the counter, his movements slow and hesitant. I watched him as he picked up the test, his face unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at it, not saying anything.

Finally, he looked up at me, his expression a mixture of relief and something else I couldn’t quite place. "It’s negative."

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. "Negative?"

He nodded, setting the test down and walking back over to me. "Yeah. You’re not pregnant."

Relief washed over me, but there was something else too. Something that felt almost like disappointment. I pushed it down, not wanting to think too much about it.

Chris sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I’m sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "For how I acted. I didn’t handle any of this well."

I leaned into him, closing my eyes as I let the warmth of his embrace chase away the last remnants of fear. "It’s okay," I murmured. "We’re okay."

"Is it crazy that I've started to warm up to the idea?" he whispered against my hair and even though I didn't want a baby, I still felt giddy hearing him say that.

"Your mood swings are acting up." I teased and buried my face into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss there, "although.. so did I." I whispered.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Confessions Between the Pages

pairing: jess mariano x fem!reader

requested: yes/no (anon)

genre: fluff/neutral

el's thoughts: first time writing for jess so he's a new character for me! this could definitely be out of character, but hey, it's alriiight hahaha hope yall like it!

jess masterlist

Y/N never meant to become this person—the one who feels a burning jealousy every time Rory Gilmore walks into a room. Yet, here she is, seated at a table in Luke’s Diner, glaring into her coffee as Rory and Jess chat across the counter. There's an easy rapport between them, the kind of connection that makes her stomach twist uncomfortably. It’s the subtle way Jess glances at Rory, the half-smirk he seems to save just for her, and the way Rory effortlessly holds his attention.

Y/N has known Jess long enough to understand she shouldn’t feel this way. He’s just… Jess—the sarcastic, book-loving troublemaker who stumbled into her life, somehow carving out space in her heart without even trying. But Y/N? She’s no Rory Gilmore—no straight-A student, no golden girl with a pristine future ahead. She’s always felt like the background to Jess’s scenes with Rory.

And now, she’s watching them again, torturing herself for reasons she can’t quite explain.

“What’s wrong with you?” Suki, her close friend/mentor figure, asks, nudging her elbow. Suki’s been keeping tabs on Y/N’s sour mood for days and knows it has something to do with Jess. It always does.

“Nothing,” Y/N mutters, eyes still fixed on Jess and Rory. She can’t help the bitterness that churns inside her. “I’m fine.”

Suki follows her gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. You’re doing this again? You know Jess isn’t into Rory like that.”

Y/N scoffs, stirring her coffee with a bit too much force. “Right. They’re ‘just friends.’”

Suki rolls her eyes. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” Suki insists, the knowing tone in her voice only annoying Y/N more. “You act like this every time Rory’s around. You’re into Jess.”

Y/N freezes at her words, her heart tightening with anxiety. She can’t deny it anymore, not to herself and not to Suki. But her jealousy makes everything worse. It twists her insecurities into something ugly—something she doesn’t want Jess to see.

“Whatever,” Y/N grumbles, standing up abruptly. “I’m out of here.”

Before Suki can say anything else, Y/N heads for the exit. But just as she’s almost out the door, Jess turns around, locking his dark eyes on hers. He says something to Rory before quickly making his way toward her, calling out her name.

“Y/N! Wait up.”

She stops, heart hammering. “What?”

Jess looks at her, concern etched in his features. “You’ve been acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she snaps, though it comes out sharper than she intended. “I’m just… tired of watching you and Rory.”

Jess frowns, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

Frustration bubbles up inside Y/N, spilling over before she can stop it. “You two are always talking, and it’s like I don’t exist when she’s around! She’s perfect, okay? She’s smart, pretty, and everyone likes her. I get it. You like her.”

Jess’s expression hardens, his usual smug attitude disappearing. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes!” The confession slips out of her mouth before she can stop it, and suddenly, everything she’s been holding back crashes down. “You like Rory, and I’m just… me. I’m not her.”

There’s a long, tense silence, and Y/N can feel her heart sinking with every passing second. She regrets saying anything at all.

“Do you really think I’m into Rory?” Jess finally asks, his voice quieter but firm. “Because if you do, then you really don’t know me at all.”

Y/N blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

Jess takes a step closer, his dark eyes searching hers. “Rory’s great, yeah, but I don’t look at her the way I look at you.”

Her breath hitches. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jess says, voice steady, “that you’ve been in my head for a long time. It’s you, Y/N. Not Rory.”

Y/N feels her pulse race, the weight of Jess’s words sinking in. She’s spent so long assuming she didn’t stand a chance against Rory. And now, hearing Jess confess his feelings, it’s like her world is shifting.

“You… like me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jess lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you seriously that clueless? Yeah, I like you. I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

Her heart feels like it’s doing flips in her chest, but guilt creeps in, too. She’s spent so much time being bitter, letting her jealousy fester. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to act like that. I just… didn’t think you could ever feel the same.”

Jess softens, his tone gentler now. “It’s okay. But next time, just talk to me instead of jumping to conclusions.”

Y/N nods, relief flooding through her. “I promise.”

For a moment, they just stand there, the tension that’s been between them for weeks finally dissolving. Jess watches her, his gaze soft and a little amused.

“So,” he says, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “What are you going to do about this thing between us?”

Y/N laughs, the sound light and free, the first real laugh she’s had in days. “I don’t know. How about we start with dinner?”

Jess’s grin widens. “Sounds good to me.”

They walk back into the diner together, side by side, and Y/N can’t help but feel lighter. The air between them is easier now, and for the first time, she feels like maybe, just maybe, things will turn out okay.

As they sit down, Suki looks between them, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Y/N rolls her eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips.

Jess leans over, whispering in her ear, “You’re going to have to stop glaring at Rory now, you know.”

Y/N smirks, nudging him playfully. “No promises.”

Jess laughs, shaking his head as he picks up the menu. And for the first time, Y/N realizes that she doesn’t have to compare herself to Rory anymore. Because to Jess, she’s always been more than enough.

[luv-lock]

Let me make something very clear.

I am not white, I am not straight. And I'm clearly not a man. I’m Middle Eastern. I’m saying this upfront so no one gets confused or assumes anything about me.

I created this blog for one purpose: to have a safe space for myself and for anyone else who wants to escape reality for a while. That’s it. This is my corner of the internet, and it’s built for fanfiction—nothing else. I love writing and sharing stories, I love connecting with people who also enjoy fandoms, and I love creating a space where everyone can just exist without having to carry the weight of the world all the time. If you’re here for that? You’re welcome. Stay as long as you want.

But lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying, “You should speak up about this issue,” “You need to support this cause,” or “Why aren’t you posting about that?”

Let me stop you right there.

You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. You don’t get to dictate what I share, write, or care about. My blog is my space. If you want to yell about something, advocate for something, or spread awareness, do it on your own platform. But you will not come here and try to force me into your expectations.

For anyone who thinks they have the right to demand I use my blog for their causes, here’s what you need to understand: I am not obligated to center politics here—or anywhere else. My political views and this blog are two entirely separate things, and they will stay separate. I know what I believe, I know where I stand, and I will not explain or defend that to anyone because, frankly, it’s none of your business. If I don’t bring politics into my blog, it’s not because I don’t care—it’s because I refuse to turn this space into a battleground. This is my peaceful escape, and it’s going to stay peaceful.

And for those ready to twist my words: no, that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant or apathetic. I see the world. I live in it too. But not everything I do has to carry the weight of someone else’s expectations. If I want to write fanfiction about fictional characters in fictional settings and not bring up real-world issues, that’s my choice. If I want my blog to focus on escapism and community rather than division, that’s my right.

Let me put it like this: If you think the earth is flat? Cool. If you think it’s round? Cool. If you have opinions about race, sexuality, gender, politics, religion, or whatever else? Cool. Guess what? I don’t care. That doesn’t mean I don’t value you as a person—it means I don’t need or want your opinions taking over my space. This blog is not the place for debates, arguments, or finger-pointing.

I don’t run this space to host debates, arguments about who’s “right” or “wrong.” If you came here looking for a fight or an agenda to push, you’re in the wrong place.

I don’t care what race you are. I don’t care what gender you are. I don’t care about your sexuality, your opinions, or your political views. If you’re here to enjoy stories and fandom and a little slice of peace in an otherwise chaotic world, then you are welcome. If you’re here to demand, accuse, argue, or dictate what I should be doing, then you can leave. My blog is not a democracy—it’s my space, and my rules apply.

I’m not here to change anyone’s mind, and I’m certainly not here to have mine changed. I am here to write, to create, and to connect with people over the one thing that brings us all here: fanfiction.

To sum this up: I am not responsible for your expectations. I will not allow anyone to make me feel guilty for how I choose to exist online. This blog is about fanfiction, escapism, and community, and that’s how it’s going to stay. If you don’t like it, the unfollow button is right there.

We all need a little peace somewhere. This is mine.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 24

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He’s leaving again. It’s harder now after everything. After that intruder. You shouldn’t want the soldier to stay but being alone is dangerous. He might be a threat on his own but he protects you all the same. It’s a twisted way to think of it but you could be the one he keeps safe or the one he tears apart tendon from toenail. 

He’s in his body armour, his cowl under his arm. You watch him march toward the door but he doesn’t reach it. He stops and looks at you. His eyes haven’t yet fully glazed over. You sit, paralysed for a moment, before you find some strength. 

You get up and cross to him, limping on your tender foot. It’s healing, slowly, but it will never be like before. You don’t know what to do. He’s blank as he looks back at you. 

You reach to squeeze his wrist, “I’ll be here.” That’s stupid. He knows you’re not going anywhere. He takes a deep breath and twists his hand up, slipping free of your grasp to latch on. He grips you tightly and dips his chin. His way of saying I will come back. 

He lets you go and faces the door. He pulls the cowl over his head and secures the strap. You see the shift in his posture, the tension as it nestles in his jaw. He marches on and the door opens and closes to punctuate his departure. 

You exhale and hug yourself. It’s still cold and desolate. More so without him. You hate to feel that way but now, he’s all you have. 

You hobble across the room and take the blanket from the couch. You sit by the fire and start your vigil. You rise only to tend to your basic needs; food, bathroom, otherwise, you doze or stare, feeding the flame so it keeps a steady crackle. 

Time doesn’t exist in this place so you don’t try to track it. The day melds into the night. Nothing changes. Not until the clatter. 

Your heart peaks. Adrenaline surges through the dulcet drone of your existence. You shake as you shrug away the blanket. The world hazes as the door handle turns and the hinge grind softly. Panic swells over you, a stone in your chest. You can’t breathe. 

It’s another monster come to attack. You lunge for the iron poker by the fireplace. You whimper at the weight on your injured foot but it fades into a pulsing thrum. You turn to face the new invader. You’ll fight, just as hard as the last time. 

You know by the footsteps alone that you’re wrong. It’s him. The soldier. You know the cadence of his gait. Your grip eases on the poker and as he appears, you let your arms fall, pointing it to the floor. 

He tilts his head and stops to stare back at you. His armour is dusty, his fingertips grimy, and his boots leave water in the stead. He approaches you, step by step. He looks down at the poker and reaches to grip it below your hand. 

He raises it and arcs it in a mimic of an attack, stopping it before his face. He brings his other hand around yours and moves behind you. He moves your fingers, adjusting them to clasp it firmer. He guides both your hands around the handle and he guides it back. He brings it down in a harsh slice. He does it several times. 

He squeezes and backs away. He gestures with his hand. You shake your head. He mimes the motion of swing the poker. He’s teaching you how to do it right. How to hit to damage. 

“I can’t--” 

He wags his finger. You have to. You sniff and turn your focus to the poker. You raise it again and swing. The air whips around your effort. He nods and wiggles his finger. Again. He unhooks his cowl and slips it off. He tosses it on the couch. 

He moves toward you. He surprises you as he bends and carefully moves your feet. He stands again and sets his own stance, waving his hand between the both of you. You do your best to replicate his posture. He nods and backs up. 

You try again. He urges you on with another point. You keep doing it. Over and over, each time more confident than the last. You’re left breathless. You aim the pointer down into the floor and lean on it. 

He stares then slowly bends his arm. A thumbs up. It’s almost comical. 

Then his eyes narrow and his face grows sombre. He shakes his head. He snatches up his cowl then goes to the kitchen. He opens the cupboards and examines the contents. He hooks his chinstrap to his belt and the helmet dangles against his thigh. 

He takes a milk crate from the corner and sweeps the contents of the cupboard into it. You gasp and come up next to him. What is he doing? 

He’s determined. He doesn’t notice you as he continues to clear out the cupboard. You watch him in confusion. 

“Are you leaving?” You ask fearfully. He stops and looks at you. His cheek twitches and his brows arch. “Are we leaving?” 

His lashes flick and he goes back to shoving packets in the crate. Your heart pulses. You could ask where but you know won’t get a question. 

“What do we need? Food? Blankets?” He nods as he turns to the fridge and opens it up. 

“Okay, I’ll help,” you say.  

He pauses and turns to face you. His face contorts and he mouths two words; thank you. You nod then hesitate. He goes to turn back and you grab his arm, releasing him as he shifts back again. You take your hand to your chin and push it towards him. 

“Thank you,” you say. “This means ‘thank you’.” 

He squints. He lifts his hand and looks at it then repeats the same gesture. The idea clicks in your head but you don’t know much more than that. 

“Sign language,” you explain. “I only know please and a few other things...” 

He makes the gesture again. You blow out a long breath and recenter yourself. You pivot as he returns to the fridge. 

“Blankets, clothes, got it,” you say to yourself.  

You limp out of the kitchen and grab the blanket from the floor. You’re scared and confused. You don’t know where he’s taking you or why. Still, it can’t be worse than this place. 

[cheriewoo]

Hit After Hit | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi.ft Wooyoung ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 18 : Just the tip

↬ [ Synopsis ] : As you're cooped up in stress while working on ATEEZ's title track, your bestie Wooyoung suggests a little game. Yunho and Mingi join in on the fun, helping to take your stress away while you cook up a banger title track for ATEEZ’s comeback.

☆Word Count : 3.8k ☆Genre : Smut, Ansgt, Idol Au. ☆Pairing : Idol! Yunho x Producer! F.Reader x Idol! Mingi ( alil bit of Wooyoung in the beginning)

☆☆☆WARNINGS : Smut, just the tip kink, angst, reader is stressed, work talks, Wooyoung the savior, neck kisses, edging, nipple paly, double penetration, praise, pet names(princess, doll, baby), unprotected sex ( wrap it up babies), Yunho and Mingi share you like a freaking baton rewarding you one after the other.

NOTE : Grinding hard to catchup my loves as my exams had a chokehold on me as I deliver Day 18 to you. Since you guys really loved Damsel In Stress with Yunho and Mingi, I am here with another one for you. Our doll-princess duo are back. Hope you enjoy it ma chéries.

Today marked the worst day of your life. Literally!

After a messed-up coffee order, an extremely heated feedback session with Eden, and the worst creative block ever, all you wanted was to lock yourself in your room and sleep the night away. But, sadly, sleep was the last thing on your long checklist of things to fix in ATEEZ’s new comeback song, and considering that, sleep probably didn’t even exist on that list.

With Hongjoong busy handling other aspects, Eden had entrusted you with the title track this time, and you happily accepted it. Given your track record of producing amazing work in the past, this opportunity was well-deserved.

But being entrusted with ATEEZ’s title song is no easy responsibility, and Eden wasn’t an easy boss to impress. Your creative block had really killed the best of your skills, and everything was off about the piece you presented. Hence, the feedback was fair in every possible way.

With every passing second, your frustration only grew as you scrapped everything the moment you put it down. With a two-day deadline to come up with a completely new, 100% successful piece, the blank slate in front of you didn’t help, and a sob choked out of your lips.

“Fuck!” you screamed, burying your head between your hands as you tried desperately to come up with new beats that would match the track’s vibe.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slipped onto your shoulders, gently massaging, and you felt a calming presence behind you. Of your roommate, Wooyoung.His hands gently massaged your shoulders as he spoke softly, “You’re pushing yourself too hard again, aren’t you?”

You took a deep breath, leaning back in your chair. "I don’t have a choice, Woo. The deadline’s in two days, and nothing’s working. Everything sounds wrong."

He hummed, his hand gently brushing through your hair. "You’re just stuck in your head. Take a break, reset, and come back with fresh ears."

"I can’t," you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. "There’s no time."

Wooyoung leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "There’s time for a little distraction. San and Yunho are coming over—movie night?" His voice was teasing but gentle.

You sighed. "I really shouldn’t, Woo—" Your mind felt too cluttered to even finish.

"Exactly why you should." He grinned, still massaging your shoulders. "Come on, we’ll make popcorn, watch something ridiculous, and you’ll feel better. Trust me."

You glanced at the screen, hesitation creeping in. "But the comeback... I can’t let the team down. Especially not with the title track."

Wooyoung paused, squeezing your shoulders. "You won’t. Eden trusts you, we trust you, and you should trust yourself too."

"But what if I mess it up? What if it’s not good enough?" you asked, doubt in your voice.

He smiled. "You’ve never let us down, even when you think you’re off. That’s why Eden gave you the title track. He knows you can do it, and so do I."

His words slowly eased the weight on your chest, and you exhaled.

“Look,” Wooyoung continued, “San , Mingi and Yunho will be here soon. We’ll watch something fun, reset, and tomorrow, you’ll crush it. I know you will.”

You chuckled softly. "Okay… but just for a little while."

Wooyoung lit up, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before eagerly pulling you up from the chair. "Let’s go!" he exclaimed, already dragging you toward the living room with excitement.

The movie truly turned out to be ridiculous. San passed out on the couch with his arm loosely draped over your shoulder, while Yunho and Mingi struggled to keep their eyes open on either side of you, and Wooyoung trying his hardest to endure the boring film. But the time away from the screen did clear your mind, a few fresh ideas began to emerge, and you weren’t feeling stuck anymore.

Carefully, getting your head off Woo’s shoulder and moving San’s hand off, you got up from between Wooyoung and Yunho, tiptoeing to your room.

Let’s finish this fucking piece already.

You felt motivated. But just for a while I guess as that motivation faded away into the night. Real soon.

As 30 minutes passed by, you found yourself back at square one, the blank slate laughing at you, mocking you through the screen. The fresh ideas you had turned out to be useless as you chewed on your lower lip in frustration.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the faint sound of your bedroom door opening and closing as three figures entered.

A tap on you shoulder had you jump out off your chair as Wooyoung, Yunho and Mingi stared at you. All three of them exchanged a knowing look between the three of them. Yunho was the first one to break silence, “Can we help you in anyway, pretty girl ?”

“I don’t know if even God could help me out of this fucking situation,” you cried, not literally. It was more like a cry for help as a pout formed on your lips. You needed something-anything- to focus, a gentle push in the right direction and distraction to take your mind of the looming deadline. That’s when Wooyoung chimed in with the most bizarre idea.

A year ago, when you joined KQ, you were one of ATEEZ's biggest fans, running a full-fledged fan page dedicated to them. Your life had taken a complete 180 when a mix of one of their songs caught Eden's attention, leading him to call you and offer you a small project. Two years later, you found yourself working on some of ATEEZ's biggest projects, becoming close friends with the boys and even sharing a flat with Wooyoung. It was a “just friends” vibe, filled with occasional flirting and playful touches, but nothing more… until now.

“We thought it might be fun to turn this into a little… game,” Wooyoung said, taking your laptop off the table and walked toward the bed. Your brow arched in curiosity as you glanced betwween Yunho and Mingi, who met your gaze with a smirk,their eyes shining with mischief. Yunho guided you to the bed, and Mingi followed behind you, a sleepy grin on his face.

Your mind was a mush of nervousness and excitement as you were excited as well to see where everything’s gonna go. Yunho freed himself of his clothes as he settled comfortably on the bed, tapping his lap invitingly. Wooyoung positioned himself to Yunho's right, while Mingi took his place on the left, creating a cozy but spicy atmosphere.

Confusion swirled within you, and although your mind urged you to stop, your body betrayed you. A shiver ran down your spine as Yunho’s hands began unbuttoning your night shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps whenever his fingertips playfully touched the front your chest.

“What’s running through your guys’ minds, huh?” you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and excitement, trying to shift off Yunho's lap. But he was quick to hold you in place, keeping you steady as Wooyoung knelt beside you, leaning in close as the mattress dipping beneath his weight.

“We thought you could use a little thrust after every progress you make on the mix,” Wooyoung explained, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “But you won’t be fully rewarded until you finish the song. Just the tip, baby. Ok ?” His voice was low and teasing, his warm breath brushing against your lips.

His lips, so close to yours, were impossible to resist. Your gaze flicked to them, and without missing a beat, Wooyoung captured your mouth in a hot, wet kiss, his hand firm on your jaw as you eagerly reciprocated. The kiss was brief but intense, leaving you flushed and breathless as he pulled away.

With a smirk, Wooyoung wiped the corner of his mouth and said, “I’ll leave the big boys to take care of you. Fighting, babe. You can finish this.” His voice held a playful encouragement as he slipped off the bed, making his way toward the door.

“But Woo… won’t you stay?” you asked, your lips still tingling from the kiss, eyes wide with anticipation.

“I really want to babe..but there is a kitten in the living room waiting for me.” Wooyoung shot you a cheeky grin, refering to our sleepy kitten, San who had dozed off earlier and with that he ran out the room leaving you with the big boys.

Yunho at this point had fully freed you off you clothes, which you only realised after cold air brushed against your naked form. Both Yunho and Mingi fully naked, sprawled on the the bed with you in between along with your tiny laptop.

All of this was happening a lil too quickly for you to make sense of it.The whole situation felt surreal, like a dream.Anyhow, whatever gets you to finish up the song track, i guess.

You settled into the rhythm of the game, your heart racing as you got started on the brass section, the boys providing just the distraction you needed to refocus. Yunho’s warm breath on your neck, his hands resting on your waist, and his body pressed up against yours radiated comforting warmth. Mingi sat beside you, his eyes gleaming with mischief as his large hands rubbed your soft thighs, occasionally squeezing them.

“You’ve got this, princess,” Yunho murmured against your ear, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as his hands slid lower, teasingly close but not quite enough to stop you from working.

You focused on the laptop, your fingers moving over the keys as you adjusted the mix. The brass section slowly began to take shape, but every shift of Yunho’s hips beneath you sent a shiver up your spine. It was hard to stay grounded in the music, especially when his hands tightened around you while Mingi’s fingers worked magic on your thighs.

“Work hard, doll. Finish it while we take care of you,” Mingi’s deep voice rumbled through you, sending another wave of heat to your core. Only you knew the struggle of resisting the urge to toss the laptop aside and give in to them completely.

The moment you hit “save,” completing the brass section, Yunho’s lips curled into a smirk. His hands pulled you closer against him, and his hips lifted slightly.

“First thrust, princess. Ready?” he whispered, his voice a low tease. He gave you a single, slow thrust, not fully bottoming out, just enough to make your breath hitch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and your body instinctively arched into him as warmth spread through you. He held you close, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. “That’s your reward, princess.”

After a moment, he pulled out completely, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss of fullness. With a smirk, he handed you over to Mingi like a baton in a relay race, ready for the chorus section.

You moved over to Mingi’s lap, the switch smooth but leaving you feeling light-headed and NO!, its not just from the work. His large, warm hands settled possessively around your hips, adjusting you on top of him with a firm grip. Yunho moved to your side, still within reach, his fingers brushing your arm left goosebumps in their wake.

Mingi’s lips ghosted over your shoulder, kissing the tattoo behind it as you began working on the chorus. And just like how the chorus elevates a song, Mingi took things up a level, rubbing the tip of his long, thick cock against your slippery folds.

“This is torture, you know.” you muttered, eyes never leaving the screen, feeling Mingi smile against your shoulder. The friction between your cunt and his cock created a delicious rhythm, pushing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Whatever keeps you working, princess,” Yunho teased, stealing a quick kiss that made you smile. His hand moved to Mingi's cock, applying just enough pressure to push the tip into your aching hole. You gasped audibly, blinking a couple of times, but Mingi pulled away before you could fully give in.

Mingi chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against your back, sending shivers through you. Yunho’s teasing and encouraging touches kept you on the edge, but they somehow helped you wrap up the chorus section.

The boys hummed in unison, approving the direction the song was going, giving you hope that you might actually finish it.

As you saved the chorus section, Mingi rewarded you with his first proper thrust. His hips moved slowly and deliberately, though he didn’t bottom out, stretching you just enough to make you feel the burn.A moan finally escaped your lips as your walls welcomed him in, your fingers gripping the laptop. The mix was saved, but your focus shattered.

“You’re so perfect, doll. In every fucking way.” Mingi murmured, his deep voice like velvet in your ear. “This title track’s gonna be a banger.” he added, as Yunho nodded with a genuine smile.

If only you got this kind of encouragement for every single project.You’d be unstoppable.

Next, lets add the drums.

This time you ended up between both of them. As your worked on the next section, Yunho hands made way down south as he found you aching clit, pinching it which had your hands tremble on the keyword from the intense sensation. A low gasp left your lips, but your refocused.

Mingi’s hands wiped the sweat the trickled on your forehead which was kinda ironic given the air condition was at it lowest. Moving a few stands of hairs away from your face his hand found your tatoo again. Guess he had found a new love for it as his hands traced softly on the tatoo.

As you added beats after beats in the drums section, Yunho’s fingers also moved with intensity, matching the beats somehow. His fingers (add something here)

While Mingi’s attention stayed on your tatoo, his one hand busy tracing, his other hand found you boobs. Cupped the left one, he gently squeezed it as you shuddered at the sudden attention there. His long fingers pinched you nipples as the intensity matched with Yunho intense rubs on your dripping cunt but he did not enter you, yet.

Finally you finished the drums section and were ready to earn your rewards and the boys were eager to give. Your gazed flicked, trying to make a decision. Technically you should go with Yunho to play fair but Mingi attracted you equally. So you decided to go with both as you settle in between them, with Yunho below you and Mingi on top of you. Their huge cocks, entered your both holes, stretching them deliciously as your toes curled, a loud moan escaped your lips while the two boys groaned. Not fully bottom out, just stretching you deliciously and after a while they pull out.

You sit up, eyes hazy from the beautiful sensation you just experienced. You needed that more. And not just teasing you wanted them to fuck your properly.

Your eyes burned with fire as you dramatically stretched you hands to bang out the second chorus and final touches, wanting to wrap it up for once and all. The boys chuckled at your antics but were equally impressed as the song fiinally taking shape amazingly.

This time, you sat between both of them. As you worked on the next section, Yunho’s hands traveled down south, finding your aching clit. He pinched it gently, sending tremors through your body and causing your fingers to tremble on the keyboard from the intense sensation. A low moan escaped your lips, but you forced yourself to refocus.

Mingi’s hand brushed the sweat trickling down your forehead, which felt ironic given that the air conditioning was set to its lowest. He moved a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers tracing your tattoo once more. It seemed he had developed a newfound affection for it ashe softly traced the inky piece.

With each beat you added to the drum section, Yunho’s fingers moved with increasing intensity, matching the rhythm somehow. He pressed down firmly on your clit, his fingers dancing and teasing, heightening the sensations building within you.

While Mingi's attention remained on your tattoo, one hand tracing it gently, the other found your breast. He cupped your left one, squeezing it gently as you shuddered from the sudden attention. His long fingers pinched your nipple, the intensity aligning perfectly with Yunho's passionate rubs on your dripping cunt, but neither of his fingers fully entered you,yet.

Finally, you finished the drum section and were ready to earn your rewards, and the boys were eager to give.

Your gaze flicked back and forth, trying to make a decision. Technically, you should go with Yunho to play fair, but Mingi attracted you just as much.

So you chose both of them.

You settled in between them, with Yunho below you and Mingi above. Their huge cocks entered both your holes, stretching you deliciously as your toes curled and a loud moan escaped your lips, ripping out groans from both the boys. They didn’t fully bottom out, just stretching you exquisitely, and after a while, they pulled out.

You sat up, eyes hazy from the beautiful sensations you had just experienced. You craved more. Not just teasing, you wanted them the whole experience, you wanted them to fuck you properly.

Your eyes burned with determination as you dramatically stretched your hands to bang out the second chorus and final touches, wanting to wrap it up once and for all. The boys chuckled at your antics, but they were equally impressed as the song finally took shape beautifully. It had the Ateez vibe. Almost.

Lets go!

The second chorus part wrapped up in a swoosh as the boys exchanged amazed looks, seeing you fully in the zone. Your fingers quickly worked on the keyboard, layering and layering more and more, bringing the whole piece together. Everything was aligning perfectly as hope surged inside you; the piece turned out beautifully. You were fully confident now that Eden would be so proud and satisfied once he listened to this.

Wrapping up the chorus and adding final touches to the track, you looked at the boys, your eyes requesting them to keep working and finish it out. They both chuckled as they let you continue.

A smile adorned Mingi’s face, his eyes holding adoration for you and your determination. He remembered the first day he saw you in the KQ building when Eden brought you in, and now seeing your work on your title track made him so happy. He had always found you cute and wondered if you were single or not.

Yunho’s mind also ran a reel of memories where you celebrated with them after every one of their comebacks. Your smile had imprinted in his mind, and your laughter rang in his ears. How amazing those times were, he thought, as he eagerly waited for this comeback to become a banger so you could join them again.

“Done!!!” you shouted, your hands up in the air. Your scream pulled them out of their thoughts. “Wanna listen?” you asked, eagerly waiting for them to say yes.

After they finished listening, they were truly in awe of how your little head could come up with such amazing stuff and also proud that you could bang out the whole track in one single night.

“Now shall we return to what we left unfinished?” Yunho asked, his eyes playfully narrowed at you, awaiting your approval. You nodded eagerly.

With that, not wasting a single second, Mingi captured your lips.

Mingi’s lips were warm against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You melted into the kiss, feeling the weight of the night’s hard work slip away as the tension in the air shifted to something much more intimate. His big hands held your face, deepening the kiss as he pulled you closer. You could feel Yunho’s gaze on you, a mix of hunger and amusement in his eyes as he watched the two of you.

“Careful there, Mingi,” Yunho teased, his voice a low growl. “Don’t make her forget all the hard work she just did.”

Mingi chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you and making you smile. “Oh, I think she’ll remember, especially when I’m done with her.”

Breaking the kiss, Mingi leaned back slightly to meet your eyes, “You ready for round two?” he asked, his voice laced with lust.

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “More than ready,” you admitted, glancing at Yunho, who looked like he was holding back a smile.

“That’s like my pretty doll.” he said, moving closer.

With that, Mingi shifted you to the side, allowing Yunho to slide behind you. You settled back against him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you. His hands found your waist, guiding you as he leaned in to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Mingi wasted no time as he gave his cock a few storkes before he lined himself against your dripping entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside, stretching your delicoulsy again and he leaned in to capture your lips again. Yunho’s hands guided your hips to his throbbing cock, gently lining himself at your asshole he filled you in as well.

“Let’s see how well you can multitask with both of us filling you, princess.” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath warm and inviting.

With Mingi's steady thrusts and Yunho's rhythmic movements, you felt the world around you begin to fade away. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body caught in a delicious rhythm between the two of them. Mingi's kisses grew more intense, igniting a fire within you, while Yunho's fingers gripped your waist, guiding you to meet their thrusts as you became lost in the sensations.

“You are taking us so well, doll,” Mingi murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy.

You moaned in response, unable to form words as pleasure built within you, the tension in your core tightening with each thrust and all the teasing you had endured the whole night. Yunho's voice in your ear only intensified the pleasure. “Come for us, princess. You deserve it after that whole night of work.”

The way they filled you was intoxicating, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the warmth pooling deep inside you, a sweet release that was just within reach.

With every thrust, every kiss, every word that left their lips you were pushed closer to the edge, making your heart race.

Finally, with a few more deep thrusts and the sound of Mingi's low growls mingling with Yunho's soft whispers, the tension inside you snapped. You cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless.

“I’m—oh my god,Ugh this feels heavenly.” you gasped, the world filled with bliss as you felt them both gently pull out of you, as they found their own release and covered you stomach and back with white ribbons of hot cum.

As you recovered from the release, Wooyoung barged in, his hair and face a mess, proof of the wild night he had with San in the living room. His eyes were already closed, as if he assumed you’d be in some intimate position. “Want an early morning snack, guys?” he asked. Your eyes flicked to the clock, it was 5 AM in the morning.

Wow! That was a long-ass session.

“Yes, please. I am starving,” you replied dramatically, earning a chuckle from both Yunho and Mingi as you all dressed and made your way outside the room to the kitchen.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of Eden, your heart racing as you handed over the final piece. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his expression unreadable while he listened carefully.

Finally, as the track came to an end, Eden leaned back in his chair, a small but approving smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “This is solid work. This will be on the album for sure.” he said, his voice carrying the praise you had been waiting for. And just like that, relief and pride washed over you. All the hard work, the sleepless night, it was worth it.

You couldn’t help but grin, the weight of the project finally lifting off your shoulders.

Gotta thank Wooyoungie and the boys for being such good focus buddies.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[ghostie-luvs]

Yandere! Patient <3

tw: depression,, obsessive behavior, very slight mention of sh/attempt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who had been suffering from depression ever since he was young. His parents never tried to figure out why, only sending him to all these different therapists in hopes of helping him. Of course, they cared but they were also too busy, and perhaps, that was one of the leading causes: neglect.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who never tried hurting himself or attempting but only wallowed in the emptiness of the house he grew up in, no siblings to play with, no parents to admire, only him, and a few servants.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who during highschool, got his first ever partner. Gods, he was ecstatic! I mean, the man was touch starved, attention starved, everything starved really. He really did like the person,, so much that his love developed into a sort of unhealthy love, or so people call it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who would do anything for his new partner, go above and beyond for them..even if they didn’t like it. I mean, shouldn’t they be more appreciative of his efforts? No matter, he still loves them and will do whatever it takes for them to be happy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ whose love only grows, progresses into a more..obsessive one. His partner always being treated with the affection he so wish he had when he was younger, with gifts, touches, anything they could ever want.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who savored the feeling of their touches, begging for more each time they pulled away, whining if you could even call it that. He needed the affection, he needed their touch and only deflated whenever he did not get what he wanted, thoughts of his childhood resurfacing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to become dependent to his partner, needing them for everything. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, to eat or anything without them. He needed them, desperately. He couldn’t live without them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who started to panic when his partner began to get distant. He wanted to ask why, wanted to figure out the problem, what he possibly did wrong. His partner gave him no room to even ask, breaking up with him, saying he was too much, and too clingy. What? Too..clingy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after the breakup, didn’t take it very well. He fell into the old friend of his that he had when he was young, finding no use of taking care of himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who was sent to a psychiatrist when his parents came back from abroad, noting his appearance and realizing what was happening again. He fought back, he told them that those damn people never helped him!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, the day he arrived to his supposed assigned psychiatrist, felt absolutely horrible being there and only kept to himself. He knew how it would be already. They would prescribe him medicine that didn’t even work.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, when his eyes fell on you, as you called his name and greeted him with a smile, inviting him to yours and your mentors office-you were only an assistant, only two years older than him- felt his world suddenly fill with colors. What? Soulmates don’t exist. So why was this happening and why did he feel so giddy at your welcoming smile?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who followed you into your office, making himself comfortable as you told him to sit down and tell you about himself. Why was he nervous? Either way, he did exactly what you told him and found himself getting comfortable in your presence and your smile.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt happy..happy in a long time at how much you’ve listened to him and treated him so nicely..just like his partner. He was excited for the next appointment, practically sulking when he had to leave, ignoring the fact that you probably prescribed him medicine on the way out, too busy with what would happen next time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who knew he wouldn’t be taking that medicine anyway. Why would he when he found that you were good enough, that you were the cure?

a/n: ahhh another character <3 please point out any mistakes or any constructive criticism is welcomed!! Reblogs are very much appreciated!!

please note that I am not a professional/ expert in the field of mental illnesses and reach out to one if you ever feel symptoms relating to depression or s! thoughts.

more of my works :)

[gliphyartfan]

Do you know Dr. Stone? If so, can I have the Chain with a fem human reader who is like Senku? The reader takes advantage of being in Hyrule to do research on the different species that exist there and does experiments or machines that the Chain doesn't know about and using the Chain as guinea pigs to learn more about the biology of the Hylians.

I am…SOMEWHAT familiar with Dr.Stone? Not enough to be part of the fandom, I just know a vague gist, but a crazy scientist reader shouldn’t be too hard to figure out ! (Has to give the wiki a quick scan tho…😅)

——————

Let’s face it, Reader is a menace. A lovable menace, sure, but a menace nonetheless. They had too many ideas, too much knowledge, and zero fear of experimenting on the people around them.

The Chain quickly realized that you weren’t JUST curious about Hyrule’s different species, you were curious about EVERYTHING. Every village you passed through was a new research opportunity.

Gorons? Reader poked at their rocky skin, tested their body heat, and theorized why they could survive on a diet of literal rocks. Zoras? Reader studied their scales, their gills, even how their body structure compared to fish. Rito?

They nearly plucked a feather off a passing child before Twilight stopped them.

Reader: ”For SCIENCE, Twi! You don’t understand.”

Twilight: ”Only thing I understand is that you’re about to get your ass kicked by an entire flock of angry Rito parents.”

But the real problem?

The Chain was their easiest test subjects.

Hylian biology wasn’t anything too different from what they already knew, but they still had so many questions.

Why were some Hylians taller than others? Were their ears actually good at hearing? How different was their anatomy from a normal human?

Reader poked, prodded, and took notes on everything. They even tried to draw their anatomy from what they could figure out. (Sky was so red when he saw the diagrams, Legend smacked them over the head, and Hyrule just turned and walked away.)

Reader’s biggest victim? Wild.

Why?

Because he lets them.

Reader “Hey, Wild, can I take a sample of your hair?”

Wild: “Sure, do you need a chunk or just a few strands?”

Wild: “What about a small blood sample? Nothing major, just a few drops.”

Wild: “Eh, why not.”

Twilight stopped them from collecting his spit.

Reader: “IT’S FOR A PH TEST, YOU COUNTRY BUMPKIN.”

Twilight: “WHAT EVEN IS THAT?!? YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW THE pH OF HIS SPIT, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU.”

Reader took advantage of the fantasy setting to its fullest. Hyrule had magic, unexplainable creatures, literal deities, and they were going to study all of it.

When they realized that the Sheikah Slate had materials and blueprints from an advanced civilization, Wild barely had time to react before they yanked it from his hands. It took a whole week for him to get it back.

Wild: Reader, give me my Slate.

Reader: “I am doing RESEARCH.”

Wild: “IT’S MINE.”

Reader also invented shit.

Without modern resources, they had to get creative. Thwy used the environment, Wild’s cooking materials, and whatever spare parts the Chain had to make weapons, tools, even small gadgets.

The first time they made a small explosive, Time nearly had an aneurysm.

Time: “NO MORE BLOWING THINGS UP.”

Reader: “It’s for DEFENSE, OLD MAN.”

Warriors was their second biggest victim.Why? Because they used him as a guinea pig for their “hybrid energy” experiments.

Reader: “Okay, so technically, Hylian magic is a force field of energy produced from within, right? So, theoretically, if I adjust the angle and density of my conductive rods, I should be able to create an artificial current—”

Warriors, exasperated but curious: “Reader, are you trying to electrocute me?”

Reader: “It’s FOR SCIENCE, CAPTAIN.”

Legend was your biggest hater.

A few things the vet has said to them:

“Oh, great, what’s the lunatic trying to build now?”

“Reader, if you explode something again, I’m throwing you in the nearest lake.”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME WITH THAT NEEDLE.”

(To name a few)

But the moment he got injured, Reader was the first person he went to because their medicine worked better than potions and elixirs at times.

“Shut up,” he muttered as Reader smirked at him. “You’re the only one with antibiotics.”

“Oh? So you need me?”

“I WILL STAB YOU.”

They once started a fire in the middle of camp just to see how different types of wood burned.

Time banned them from touching firewood for a month.

Overall?

The Chain loved them, but they were a constant headache.

Reader was the only person who wanted to be in Hyrule for the sake of research, and even though their experiments terrified them, they couldn’t help but admire their genius.

Even if it meant they had to keep a close eye on them before they accidentally (re)invented nuclear warfare.

(Moment Wild mentioned Purah’s antics, the chain were horrified at the inevitable possibility of what the both of them would do together. So they drive to keep Reader as far from Purah as possible. It’s inevitable tho so..:sucks for them 😆)

[konfeitos]

ROMANCE IS BORING.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤJJK MEN & M!READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring :   choso , nanami kento , higuruma hiromi , getou suguru

❛❛ ⠀Am I ready for love? Or maybe just a best friend? Should there be a difference, do you have instructions? ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀being in a queer platonic relationship with jjk men !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes  :   male reader. either the reader / jjk men, or both, can be seen as arospec. queer platonic relationships are just as important and equal to romantic relationships! all qprs are different from each other and are all valid. not proofread. divider by cafekitsune.

⟣   CHOSO   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤIt was a struggle to put his feelings into words when it came to you. Nothing that he could possibly weave together ever grew close to accurately describing his emotions and how he viewed the relationship between you and him. You are important to him. Of course you are. Just as much as Yuuji is important to him. Except… he didn’t view you the way that he did with his brothers. Those feelings didn’t push him to see you as more than that at the same time.

All that he knew for certain was that he adores you and you adore him. The way you look at him with smiles has his heart grow in multiple sizes. A label wasn’t necessary to place on you for him to know that he cared deeply for you. That he would do all that he possibly could to ensure your happiness and safety.

There’s not a doubt in his mind that you share this sentiment. He senses it in the way you reach for his hand to hold and squeeze tightly as if you plan on never letting go. The way you nudge him to open up his arms for you to give him a hug the second you notice anything off before he even realizes it.

You openly express your affection for him that his heart squeezes far too many times to the point that he wonders whether he should visit a doctor. 

It makes him pause whenever you two are asked if you’re dating. He never knows what to say. The love is mutual between you two for sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re both in love with one another. 

Yet he knows saying such a thing would garner strange looks or comments how you’re both confused or shouldn’t be using the word love to describe such a dynamic if it isn’t a romantic relationship. But he sees nothing wrong with using the word when it comes to you. 

He loves you. He loves you so much and will gladly let the world know it even if nobody else aside from you would understand.

⟣   NANAMI KENTO   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤMany people (read: one particular Gojo Satoru) joked or assumed that you and Nanami were together. There wasn’t a day that went by without someone making a comment about the two of you. You were always seen together doing just about anything and everything. All of Nanami’s spare time was dedicated to you, and you fussed over him like a concerned boyfriend. Why weren’t you two together? 

The pestering always annoyed him. This insistence that a relationship between two people had to be one way or the other. Or that people were that invested over somebody else’s relationship. What did it matter to them? 

All he wanted was to exist. With you specifically. 

Whenever a mission would get too rough, his mind would drift to his thoughts of retiring and running away to Malaysia. In each and every single one of them, you were there right by his side. He yearned for solitude so deeply, but for a solitude that included you as well. 

Where there would be no prying eyes to how the two of you interacted with one another. Nobody would make any jabs at both of you guys’ indifference to ever developing a romantic relationship with one another. No judgment would be made, not that he paid any attention to how people may perceive the nature of your relationship and interactions with each other, on the love shared between you two.

It’s very easy to imagine taking a stroll on the shore of the beach and having you hand in hand.

The next time that Gojo cracks a joke upon catching the two of you visiting Nanami’s favorite bakery, hands full of his favorite bread and your favorite pastries, and linked arms, Nanami is ready with a response. He waits to hear the familiar question of whether you two are together to answer with a simple, 

“I’ve always been his.”

⟣   HIGURUMA HIROMI   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤNot once has Higuruma ever considered that he would find himself in a relationship quite like the one he has with you. Granted, the possibility of having any sort of close and intimate relationship with anyone always came across as impossible. There wasn’t time for him to spare for anyone else. He was too caught up with his own work and wrangled up in his passion for justice. At least that was the case until he met you.

Your presence in his life has redefined many things for him. A new passion in him sprouts and blossoms with every passing second that he spends with you. One that is devoted to you and only you, and it grows at the mere sight or thought of you.

Nobody else understands him the way that you do. 

Each time he is weighed down by a trial that has led to an unjust verdict for his client and he catches a glimpse of their expression, you are the one who seeks for comfort. You very easily understand what he needs without any need for words. Despite being a rather tall man, he succumbs to making himself so small while being gathered into your arms. 

It’s easy to sense how all he wishes for is the comfort and warmth you never fail to provide him. His soul feels intertwined with yours and his heart wants to be held with those gentle hands of yours. Said gentle hands that always seek out to cup his face and gently him closer to look at you directly. 

Without fail, you whisper to him sweet reassurances and nothings. You are always determined to make him feel loved and cared for. And as he gets lost in staring into the warmth of your gaze, being placed looked at with such a loving stare, there’s only one thought that lingers in his mind.

I’m lucky to have you.

⟣   GETOU SUGURU   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤIt’s rather funny to Getou how Nanako and Mimiko can fully understand the intricate bond between you and him compared to other grown adults. Plenty of people assume that you are together or married. Nanako and Mimiko’s habit of referring to you as their other dad most likely plays a factor into that. 

Or maybe it’s also due to the fact that he never fails to lean close and kiss your nose or your cheek or wherever he can reach. It could also be the fact that you openly address him as your other half, your husband, and other sweet terms of endearment that has his heart skip a few beats.

Anyone who dares to assume that something romantic is going on between you and Getou are quick to receive odd looks from you, Getou, and your girls. Then again, he supposes he can’t expect that for anyone outside this little family of yours to fully know how strong this bond is that it goes beyond their comprehension of love and relationships.

Both of you are fairly affectionate with each other, whether you’re out in public or alone in the privacy of your home. As mentioned earlier, he presses a kiss to any inch of your skin he has access to and pairs it with a reminder of his love for you. And you slot yourself into his side with ease like you belong there (which you do). Your head gets tucked under his chin and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep together. 

There’s nothing to hide from you. You know full well his heart is for yours to hold and that your heart is kept safe in his.

Thinking about the future used to be grim, but knowing that you will be there every day in his future with the girls brings him comfort.

[wandanatsgf]

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 1

Pairing: Vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Summary: This story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for help.

Author's note: I tried a different style of writing, I hope you like it! This was originally posted on my old account. It was going to be a multiple part fic, but I never finished it. I am hoping to finally finish it now!

Part 2

Part 1: 1850, the Shittiest Year of My Life

This story starts in the spring of 1850. The year my life went to shit. AKA the year Wanda came into my life and ruined everything. Now I know what you’re saying dear reader, how am I alive if I was born so long ago? Well the truth is, I am a vampire, and no not the kind from twilight. We don’t sparkle in the sun. In fact we’re the same as you, except we have to eat blood to live and we have a few extra supernatural abilities.

Anyway, back to the story. The year is 1850 and I am eighteen years old. At this time I am living in France in my parent’s manor with my two siblings and best friend, Sebastian. I was normal then. I was human. My life was like any other person of nobility. It was full of balls and glitz and glamor. I would dance and be merry every night with my best friend by my side. I thought nothing could go wrong, and then it did.

I remember the exact day things changed. It was April 12, 1850. That was the day Wanda entered my life. She was an orphan, or so she said, and my parents took her in. She was the same age as me and she was beautiful. She had long brown hair and piercing green eyes that could stare into your soul. She was kind and elegant. She was perfect. Little did I know how dangerous she truly was. I was blinded by love and by infatuation. I knew not of the monster that lurked in her soul, the same monster that she made me. But I am getting ahead of myself. 

Before I knew who she truly was, I spent all of my hours with Wanda. She slowly became my confidant, my lover and then my everything. Sure it was considered wrong back then, but in my heart I knew something that felt this good couldn’t be anything but right. 

We would hang out by the mangroves near my house, making sure no one saw us. I would kiss her like my life depended on it and she me. I loved her with every fiber of my being, but that love burned out when she killed me.

She had asked me one day, “Don’t you want to be together forever Y/n.”

“Of course I do,” I had said, oblivious about what was to come. “That is all I wish for. I want to be with you forever and live in a world where we don’t have to hide.”

Wanda had smiled at this and handed me herbal tea we had brought with us. I took a sip and placed the glass down. Wanda had placed her hands around my neck, like she was going to kiss me and I leaned in. Her face gets within inches of mine, and then she snaps my neck. 

I awoke a monster, but I didn’t know that then. I thought I had just fallen asleep in the arms of my girlfriend. I didn’t know I was a vampire, something that defies all the laws of human nature. I was something that shouldn’t exist, yet here I am now, writing all of this down. 

The night I turned was the night of a ball in my honor. I foolishly attended, not knowing what it would lead to. The feelings that began to bloom within me were terrifying yet exhilarating. The power was tasty, and I was hungry. I was blinded by this and…well I’ll flashback and let you read what happened for yourselves.

 “Can you fasten this around my neck?” I ask Wanda as she helps me get ready. I was putting on the finishing touches to my outfit, but I couldn’t manage to get this clasp.

“Of course Y/n.” She fastens the intricate gold and gem necklace around my neck.

“You look beautiful,” she says. My face heats up at the compliment.

“Thank you,” I look down, unable to look her in the eyes and accept the compliment.

“Hey I mean it. You’ll be the prettiest girl there tonight.” She places a soft kiss on my lips and when we break apart I can't contain my happiness. 

“Now let’s go to that party and have the time of our lives,” Wanda says. I place my hand in hers and we walk that way until we reach the ballroom. We break apart when we enter the room and suddenly my senses are overwhelmed. All I can hear are the sounds of people’s heartbeats. All I can feel is hunger. My senses were overwhelmed and I didn’t understand what I was doing until it was over.

I walked up to Sebastian, my dearest friend. I didn’t mean to do it. He was my bestest friend and I just thought being around him might calm me. However the closer I got, the more tempting the feeling to rip his throat out was. I couldn’t resist it anymore and I sunk my new found fangs into his neck. He didn’t even have the chance to scream before he was dead.

People around us began to scream and I took a step back and realized what I had done.

“Sebastian,” I breathed out, coming out of the trance I had been in. People rushed past us, desperate to get away from the monster until it was only me, Wanda, and Sebastian left. 

“Please no no no,” I cried. I shook his body, begging for him to wake up. All I could think was, “What have I done?”

“Come on please,” I beg. I lightly slap his face and I get nothing. Not even so much as a twitch. 

“He’s not going to wake up dear. He’s dead,” comes a voice from behind me. I jump up and charge at this figure.

“This is your fault. You did this to me,” I screamed in the brunette’s face. I had her pushed up against the wall. “It was that tea wasn’t it? You did something to me, you changed me,” I cry.

“I’m sorry but I did this so we could be together forever.” She changes our position so that I am now the one pushed up against the wall.

“I did this because I love you.”

“You made me a monster,” I cried out. I could feel tears falling.

“No I didn’t honey. You’re beautiful like this.”

She gently caresses my face with her fingertips and I wince at the contact. I could feel fangs protruding where my teeth had once been. I could feel my veins popping out around my eyes and I could feel the blood that covered my face. It was sticky and wet and it belonged to my best friend. I was disgusted with myself and I could hardly breathe. I ran out of that house, with speed I didn’t know I had but that I now possessed. I left that house, that life, in the dust. I never saw Wanda again, until now. 173 years later here she is at my doorstep and I want nothing to do with her.

[hazymoonlinh]

An error of the eternal land.

Chapter 1: The Arrival

You come to Amphoreus, meet him, became his friend, his mentor, helping his world, and soon have his heart.

|Part1|

Phainon x f!reader

The sun dipped lower in the sky, washing the city of Okhema in gold and amber. Marble towers stood tall, their polished surfaces glowing under the evening light, while the gentle hum of the temple bells signaled the transition from day to night.

Phainon was patrolling the outer edge of the city, near the olive groves where the winds were quiet, and the world felt untouched. It was supposed to be a peaceful evening.

Then the air trembled.

It was subtle at first—a faint vibration, like the hush before a storm. But then, the space near the olive tree shifted, the very fabric of reality twisting in on itself.

His instincts flared.

Without hesitation, his hand flew to his sword, drawing it halfway from its sheath. He had fought countless battles, faced warriors and beasts alike—but this was different.

The air warped, light bending unnaturally around a single point, before tearing open like fragile fabric.

And she stepped through.

Phainon’s breath caught.

A woman, unlike anything he had ever seen before.

She stood tall, her figure draped in unfamiliar clothing, the material foreign to anything found in Amphoreus. Her presence was striking—not just because of her beauty, but because she shouldn’t exist.

A reptilian tail curled behind her, long and sinuous, the scales shimmering faintly in the fading sunlight. Atop her head, nestled in her hair, were two small wings—not large enough for flight, but unmistakably real.

She blinked, her sharp eyes adjusting to the world around her, before locking onto him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Phainon was still, his sword gripped tightly in his hand, heart pounding against his ribs. The teachings of Okhema urged him to act—to be wary of the unknown, to call for the Chrysos Heirs and drive out anything that did not belong.

And yet… he hesitated.

She wasn’t moving aggressively. She wasn’t attacking.

She was just standing there, gazing at him with an expression that wasn’t fear, nor hostility. Just… curiosity.

Then, she spoke.

“…Where am I?”

Her voice was smooth, calm—too calm for someone who had just walked into an unfamiliar world.

Phainon narrowed his eyes slightly but eased his blade back into its sheath. Not fully, just enough to keep it within reach.

“This is Okhema,” he answered. “The Holy City of Amphoreus.”

She tilted her head slightly, the wings on her head twitching in response. Then, her gaze flickered upward—to the vast sky stretching endlessly above.

“Amphoreus…” she echoed softly, like she was testing the word on her tongue. After a moment, she let out a quiet hum. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Phainon frowned slightly. He had traveled across Amphoreus, trained in its greatest cities, stood before the grandest halls of the Chrysos Heirs. There was no place beyond its skies.

At least, that’s what they were told.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, his voice steady, but his fingers still resting against his sword’s hilt.

She exhaled through her nose, thoughtful. “Somewhere far from here.”

Vague. But not a lie.

Phainon studied her closely, taking in every strange, impossible detail. The way her tail moved with unconscious ease, the smooth scales blending seamlessly into her skin. The way her small wings shifted slightly when she turned her head, reacting like an animal sensing its surroundings.

The longer he looked, the more wrong everything felt. Not in a way that spelled danger, but in a way that defied everything he had ever known.

The laws of Okhema dictated that one should not question the beyond. That the skies above were the heavens, and everything beneath them was all that existed.

But this woman stood before him—real, undeniable, impossible.

He should call the others. Should demand answers. Should treat her as a threat.

And yet…

“…What are you?”

It wasn’t an accusation. Not a demand. Just pure, unfiltered curiosity.

She met his gaze, something unreadable in her expression.

Then, after a brief pause, she offered a small, almost amused smile.

“Someone lost,” she murmured. “And someone who’s probably not supposed to be here.”

Phainon exhaled slowly, his grip on his sword finally loosening.

He had the distinct feeling that nothing in his life would be the same after today.

_______