#i also had long puzzle days/nights with some of my friends

[bolcseszgoblin]

would be a couple days with a couple of friends

[freneziwlp]

I hate when you're away

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel fucks the soreness away.

Warnings: +18 MDNI, smut smut smut ahead, unprotrected p-in-v, fingering, mentions of blowjob, cum eating, begging, horny asf Joel, eating out, daddy kink.

A/n: it's my first weekend with some time off, and what else should I be doing instead of trying my first attempt of writing smut hm hm?! Hehehe enjoy :) also, GIF ain't mine.

" Joel, baby! I'm so sore. " You whine softly as your fingers tenderly caress his tousled morning locks while he spreads warm, affectionate kisses all the way down your abdomen, tracing a path to his intended destination.

" Shhh, just relax now princess, let daddy stretch ya needy lil hole just a bit for his cock, will ya? " His thick accent sending shivers down your spine, leading you into closing your eyes, missing the way Joel spits in his fingers before smearing the sticky liquid all over your still puffy clit from last night's event, rubbing tight circles on the bud and dragging moisture up and down your pussy before shoving two dampened fingers inside you, curling his digits against your spongy walls, feeling you squeezing his fingers inside, your head falling back onto the mattress as you moans his name and bucks your hips against his palm.

Joel had spent a few weeks out due to one of his often travels around the state, doing god knows what with his most faithful partner, Tess. You used to be jealous of their proximity once you realized you had more than a crush on him, annoyed at how close she could casually be around him without making things up as an excuse to get his attention. Thankfully, the jealousy quickly went down the toilet once you found out she probably liked women more than himself did when she boldly hit on you while she was drunk, which you might even had enjoyed if you weren't so focused on seducing her partner.

You were reading a book on the living room's couch when you heard the jingle of keys unlocking you and Joel's shared apartment's door, your back sinking in an somehow uncomfortable position in the old cushions. You dropped your book aside, getting up to greet your man as he had spent long enough away from you, making you all needy for his presence and touch. To your dismay, instead of embracing you with his strong arms and whispering sweet nothings against your hair in attempt to show you how bad he had missed you, Joel didn't even look at you on his way in, dropping his seemingly weighty backpack on the floor, loud thud filling the air, before hurriedly barging in to the bathroom, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

You froze next to where he had just gotten in, not knowing how to react to his awfully unsual demeanor. As a matter of fact, you hadn't even had time to look in his eyes, only taking a hint of his beyond smudged clothes as he stormed away from you. Concern fill your chest as you begin to try to piece the puzzle on what had happened for him to act so distressed. Had the work he went to get done gone wrong? Was he pissed at someone who deared to go against him? You even wondered if Tess had gotten fucking killed by some motherfucking clicker. An assumption that soon vanished once you hear her voice on the other side of your door, talking to someone random on the hall.

Maybe he was just sick of you, afterward. Maybe he had gotten back to his strict and fuzzy way of treating you just like he was when you first got in his and his friend's way.

Unbestknown to you, the reason Joel had ignored your presence was due a fucked up wet dream he had had in the middle of the night when camping in the woods a few days earlier, leading him into waking up with a hard and leaking cock against the restrain of his pants, furious at how he wouldn't be able to take care of it when Tess was snoring right next to him and you were miles away. He tried to ease himself the best he could, struggling whenever he'd revivid the dream where he had you all on fours as he pounded you from behind, squirting on his cock as he demanded for you to cum, referring to him as daddy.

Well fuck, the way he missed your cunt the following travelling days should be forbidden.

The second Joel left his shower he went out looking for you, not bothering to wrap himself up in a towel much less get his body dried. You were sitting down, still in the living room, blankly staring at a random wall when he found you, a hint of regret hitting him when he realized that it was probably his fault you were so quiet but the incessant throb of his cock vanished the concern away. He approached you with loud steps, your eyes widening as you take in his naked form, droplets of water tracing paths behind him and all over his shaped body onto the floor below his feet, your eyes following his whole, parking at his pelvis where his cock was standing hard against his wet stomach, tip glistening with precum. Your mouth went dry as waves of shocks found their way up to the pitch of your stomach landing onto your core, it was safe to say the image of him only took mere seconds to affect you. Joel had his glare stuck on your face, his features harsh and eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was in pain.

Joel knew that if he looked at you the moment he walked home, all sweet and loving with your big sparkly eyes staring at him, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself as he was in a dreadful need of your mouth on him, but he couldn't give in before taking a long shower, there was no way you would even want to fuck with him smelling like shit. So instead, he chose to ignore you, which wasn't the smartest choice considering you probably would have nasty second thoughts on it, but he would make things up with you the sooner he was all clean and smeeling nice. And boy, did he do.

" Hi there, doll. Have you missed me?" you nodded, speechless. " Well then why don't ya kneel for daddy and show me how much ya missed him, huh? "

The following events were all a blur, your body probably working on auto pilot as it only took seconds before Joel had himself shoved deep down your throat, hands tugging tightly around your hair as he bobbed your head against him the harder he could, desperate to fill your throat with his thick ropes of cum in attempt to get rid of the burning feeling of his need. Which obviously, wasn't enough. After making you give him head he fucked you senseless on the floor, making sure to vividly manevour you in all of the positions he had dreamt of while traveling. You and Joel spent the following hours drowning yourselves in each other's desires until there was no hint of energy left for you to keep going.

That was until he woke you up the morning after, in your shared bed, spreading warm kisses all over your face and neck, engulfing himself into the warmth of your body and silently thanking the heavens for letting him return home safe to your embrace. No matter how much of you he had taken the previous night, his cock didn't seem to take any near satisfaction from it.

He keeps fingering you until the previous soreness you'd been feeling turned into a desperate buck of your hips, wishing for him not to stop, your cunt twitching and leaking as you feel yout orgasm approaching.

" Are you ready for me, doll? " Joel towers over your laying trembling body, bending his torso so he could grab your tits, assaulting your erect buds with harsh pinches. You moans, nodding quickly " Yeah? Then beg for it, wanna hear ya say it "

He knew you hated when he made you beg, annoyed at how easily he could work his way onto your brain and manipulate you into becoming nothing but a slutty whore for him. He knew you hated that you were so easy to succumb to him, not willing to stop once you had it started.

" Oh don't ya try to stop yourself from bein' my bitch now, doll. Your pussy's dying for my cock to get it all wretched " You whimper, your core burning for him.

" Please Joel, p-please... please fuck me! Come on, ugh, I need you inside me already "

Your pleads seem to ignite fire on him as he lowers his face next to yours and smirk hungrily, like a predator scolding his prey. Joel presses his lips against yours in a harsh motion, swallowing your moans. He keeps on clutching on your tits, his free hand lowers to grab his member, holding it against your now drenched cunt. He interrupts the kiss and gets back to kneeling in front of you on the bed, he positions his throbbing cock onto your entrance, bumping on it, eliciting a loud moan from you.

" Mhmm, such a naughty lil bitch for me, all whinin' and beggin', gonna fill you up so good hun' " All of his teasing was growing impatience in you, he hell knows how to drive you insane and would never skip the opportunity of seeing you squirming underneath him " Joel, will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already? For fuck sakes! "

" So much swearing for sucha pretty lil mouth, I think someone's growing mad at me now, huh " He mocked, causing you to growl in annoyance, but before you could complain any further Joel fully knocked himself inside you with no previous warning, thrusting his hips rapidly, both of his hands wrapped around your hips, pushing you desperately against him as his face contorted in pleasure. Your arms pull him against you making his torso bend over again, face falling onto the crook of your neck as you stick your nails into the flesh of his back, scratching and pulling him closer in a way that probably would draw blood from it, which only seemed to get Joel even more turned on as his cock would fuck you harder at each second.

" Yes, yes, yes, FUCK, fuck don't stop, don't stop baby! " Joel smirks, admiring your perky tits bouncing next to his face.

" Such a good girl begging for me. Fuck, ya pussy feels so tight, squeeze daddy's cock harder baby, c'mon " Joel mutters against your neck, his warm lips popping loud pecks and bites on it, you loved the way his beard would scrape your skin while he was fucking you.

" Mhmmm yes, want you cumming inside me daddy, I know you can't get enough of m-me, oh fuck! "

" Fuck, ya know me so damn well, don't ya? Daddy's gonna cum so hard, doll. Where do ya want me huh? " Joel pounds your pussy harder at each sentence, you know he's close from cumming, his hips muscles burning and twitching from how hard he's thrusting his way inside you, loud wet noises filling the air and sweat dripping down his naked back as you keep on scratching it raw.

" I-inside me daddy, mhmm ughh fuck please please fuck... gonna cum, fuck... I'm c-cumming Joel "

Joel tried his best to delay his release, to make the addicting feeling of your pussy swallowing him last the longer it could, but how could he ever control himself when his girl was begging so beautifully for him? How could he resist the thought of cumming so hard inside you that it would make you see stars and scream his name? Joel is addicted to you in ways he had never been with any other woman and his body would always betray him on it. He wouldn't miss the opportunity of bragging about making you cum when himself had jerked off so many times to the thought of it while he was still a mere friend of yours.

Joel growls, emptying himself inside you, cock twitching abruptly as white ropes of cum paint the tight walls of your cunt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head once you reach your own orgasm, jaw hanging open before eliciting a loud whine.

When you're both finished, Joel's body falls upon yours, panting and sweating, his cock softening within your warmth. He kisses your sternum, resting his eyes and listening to your heartbeat.

He pulls his cock out of your hole and you stops breathing for a moment when you feel his hot seed dripping down your pussy, you didn't know if it was the aftershocks of your climax but you could feel something gathering on your lower belly again. You shove one of your hands in between you and Joel's body, your fingers collecting his dripping cum and smearing it upon your swollen clit, making a mess all over it, dragging a low whimper from your throat, which caught your boyfriend's attention.

" Watcha doin' down there, doll? Seems like I'm not the only one who can't get satisfied, huh? "

" Mhmm, seems like it, yes "

" Here, lemme do the work for my woman "

Joel lowers his body all the way between your legs, nipping on your belly until he finds the spot you needed him so badly. You were still recovering from your previous orgasm but there was something about you being covered in his cum that wouldn't let your nerves cool down, you needed him just one more time.

He holds one of your legs and rest it above his shoulder, licking the insides of your thigh before stopping by your pussy, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, his cock twitching for what it feels like the millionth time since he had gotten back, which almost seemed impossible but honestly, he couldn't care less about possibilities. Joel's jaw drops against your puffy core, his lips caressing your clit in a silent tease, he taste his own juices on you in a delicious mix of musky and sweet.

Lapping up your gathering moist, Joel licks and sucks on your pussy, pressing his tongue right where he knows you would die on the inside, you feel the coil building up again, tousling your fingers in his hair you pull him impossibility closer, bucking your hips on his skillful mouth, he alternates between shoving his tongue inside you and assaulting your clit with circling pressured motions. You feel as if you might explode at any time, wondering when he had learned to give head so fucking well, hints of jealousy hitting you when for a mere 2 seconds you imagine him making other women feel this way, getting interrupted by your orgasm ripping through your body.

If whenever Joel would return from a long trip he would make things up with you by giving you the pleasure of seeing him panting, face covered in your cum and a smirk on his lips after fucking you senseless for a whole night, then maybe it wouldn't be all bad having him away for a lil bit.

[boba-beom]

✮⋆˙ baby, I love you | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

PAIRING. fiancé!yeonjun x fiancée!reader GENRE. soft smut, fluff SYNOPSIS. after attending the rehearsal dinner two nights before your wedding day, the tension and excitement rises continuously. your fiancé has been working hard with the preparation of your future together, and it's only right you show him the love he deserves. WARNINGS. p w/ p, kinda sub!yeonjun, soft dom service top!!reader, oral (m. rec), body worship (m. rec), praise and praise and dirty praise, balls love, soft sex, breeding kink, simp talk from yeonjun hehe, petnames;(baby, love, pretty boy etc.) WC. 2.4k A/N. I've had these thoughts leaving and coming back so join my jjun brainrot with me 🫠 also took some inspo from Angel 2 Me — Mckay ft Jeff Bernat. enjoy reading!!!

pictures from twt accs @/page1305 and unknown T^T

tipsy giggles and gentle affirmations fill the room along with loose touches between you and your fiancé. the feathery touches that you've grown accustomed to is now something you'll be feeling for the rest of your lives together, and that's something you'll cherish forever.

yeonjun's waited so long to have time alone with you; after the both of you have been busy with schedules that included your hen and stag-dos, pictorials and now the rehearsal dinner—this was finally the only time you'll be able to be alone and relax together. you were told you can't sleep together the night before the wedding so this was your chance to show yeonjun how appreciative you were of his planning throughout the past few weeks.

it started with his gentle caresses during the dinner, though surrounded by close friends and family, that didn't stop him from giving you a kiss to your temple here and there, or a stray hand that was attached to your waist half of the time.

then came talking to your guests; memorable and fun conversations igniting the excitement towards their favourite pre-wedded couple. glasses upon glasses of what deemed to be a little more than an appropriate amount of alcohol had yeonjun's cheeks flushed and yours burning up ever so slightly, but because of the company by many, the buzz was just so exhilarating that neither of you held back—but told each other tipsy to borderline drunk was when you would stop.

and now you're having to go through with the consequences of heightened senses—minds a little clouded but not enough to not know what you're doing. the consequences being wet kisses along each other's necks, slow wandering hands along each other's torsos and not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

you've shared plenty of tipsy kisses with yeonjun throughout your long six years of your relationship but every experience was never the same as previous ones. there were times where yeonjun was a little needier than you were, or perhaps rougher than other times, but either way you've enjoyed every single moment with him.

at this moment you feel more love than you've ever felt. may it be the excitement of getting married to him, knowing that this will be the man you will be calling your forever, or perhaps it's the fact that you're two and a half champagne glasses in and your need for yeonjun has elevated.

you crane your neck to the side, your hands lingering over the warmth radiating off of yeonjun's bare, broad shoulders while your chest heaves from his gentle kisses across your bare skin.

"mmh, you're so beautiful baby." he mumbles against your collar bone, kissing up to the side of your neck and taking note not to mark you... for now.

a sigh slips past your parted lips, eyes shut and taking in the hot trails of his hands circling your waist. his hands fits your body perfectly like your missing puzzle piece that you can finally set in stone. your hands wrap around his wrists lightly, opening your eyes to look at him; lips swollen from scattering his invisible love marks that only you can feel.

"sit on the bed for me, sweetheart." you kiss the edge of his plush lips, leading him to the edge of the pristine white sheets provided in this pretty villa.

and as your future husband, he obliges, eyes hooded and hazy with lust and love only for you.

yeonjun sits a little past the edge of the bed, leaning back so his elbows supports his weight, still looking up at you with his dark orbs that twinkled with specs of longing for you to act on your next move. as you walk over to him, the bed dips from your knees shuffling on either side of his legs until you're hovering him.

"such a pretty boy under me like this." your thumb and finger lightly lifts his chin to look up at you, only then you could see the smirk on your lover's lips.

"you look so sexy from this angle, think you should do it more often." he shifts underneath you, leaning on one arm as the other stretches out for him to hold your waist and lower your panty cladded core onto his bulge prominent in his slacks.

"yeah? I could get used to this." you chuckle and he does too.

"well, we have forever together. I'll let you do it as many times as you want to." you gasp a little from his words, but more so from him guiding your hips to grind down on his erection ever so slowly.

you still your hips immediately, causing yeonjun to tilt his head in confusion.

"let me." you whisper.

remembering that it's your time to shower him with love and appreciation, you dip into the crook of his neck and lay delicate kisses against his lightly tanned skin. you loved when the sun kissed his skin, whether or not you're in broad daylight your fiancé always looked like he was glowing.

he returns to leaning on his arms, attentively watching you gradually kissing down his bare chest, down along his soft abs until you're kneeling on the floor between his legs and your fingers are fiddling with his belt.

"you've worked so hard lately," you start, kissing his clothed knee while you undo his belt. "I just wanna show you how grateful I am..." your voice trails, unzipping his slacks and sliding your fingers over the buldge in his calvin klein boxers. "... grateful I get to call you my husband in two days."

yeonjun lets out a sharp gasp once your fingers hook onto the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down along with his slacks to have them pool by his ankles then discard them with his white blazer somewhere in the room. he groans quietly from your fingers skimming down his shaft and back up to wrap around his girthy cock, pretty pink tip decorated in clear beads dribbling down his length.

"so, so pretty." your eyes look up at yeonjun's, his cheeks blushed while you stick your tongue out to taste the salty beads, and his sighs only get louder.

that was your sign to take him deeper into your mouth. you fist his cock slowly before enveloping your lips around the head, heavy on your flat tongue until you gradually swirl around his length, slowing down the movement when you feel the prominent vein against the middle of your tongue.

you've given head to yeonjun plenty of times and he loved every single one of them just as much as you enjoy giving it to him. every time you do, your first and foremost priority is to make him feel good, and this is no different with your eyes steady on yeonjun and taking more of his length until the head carefully bumps the back of your throat.

yeonjun just loves the feeling of your warm and wet mouth encapsulating his cock, hot and heavy while you stop your head and pulling off of him with a string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip.

"god that feels so good, I've been wanting to feel that mouth on me the past few days." he sighs, caressing your cheek then resorting to carding his fingers through your hair.

you suck on his pink, now red, tip, "then why didn't you say anything hunny?" your tongue immediately kitten licks his tip, having him twitch beneath you.

"because I didn't want to disrupt you," you sink down onto him, nose touching his pubic bone, "I know you're focused on- shit- wanting the best preparation for our big day."

you groan around his cock, throat sending pleasurable vibrations to the point yeonjun throws his head back with a moan a little louder than before. a few steady bobbing of your head and your throat contracting around his length has your eyes tearing up and yeonjun's moans picking up. luckily your shared room was the only one on the ground floor, but either way, you didn't care who would have heard the both of you regardless.

releasing his thick cock from your throat, you kiss down his shaft until your lips spoils his balls with soft kisses. the pace on his dick doesn't stop, your fist remains with steady pumps while you gently suck on his balls, toying your tongue around them. you know just how much yeonjun loves it when you play with his balls, almost guttural groans fill the room if it wasn't for his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

"fuck baby, c'mere." yeonjun hisses once you take his balls out of your mouth one more time.

with ease, you crawl back onto your man's lap, seated prettily with your hands instinctively wrapping around his shaft, another brief smirk displayed on his face from the sight of your thumb and fingers hardly touching.

"you've been such a good boy, planning out almost everything, hm?" your brows softly scrunch feigning pity. "working so hard to have everything perfect, is that right?"

your fist picks up the speed, slick sounds of your saliva mixed with his pre-cum only leads to yeonjun panting and whining in your hold.

"always wan- want everything perfect for you, baby." he fights his head from leaning back, fixating on the motion of your fist.

"mhm? and you deserve to feel good, hunny."

at this point you were leaning close to yeonjun's ear, whispering plenty of praises and kissing his lobes while his hair strands were slowly falling over his face, the hairspray somewhat keeping it intact. he's always been such a beautiful man, but something about watching him fall apart ignites something inside of you.

you still had your panties on, the only piece of clothing between the both of you, but yeonjun could already tell that it was about time to lose the article of clothing knowing just how damp it is from your cunt leaking.

"think it's about time you take this off," his voice raspy as he hooks on the band of your panties, releasing it and having it slap your hip.

"be a darling and take it off for me?"

the bed dips again as you kneel higher, your hands planting on his shoulders for support. you make it easier for yeonjun to pull your panties down your thighs in a teasing manner; his lips latching onto your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardening bud until your last piece of clothing falls past your ankles.

"you're so beautiful," he mumbles against your nipple, releasing it with a pop and moving onto the other. a sound nothing short of a quiet whimper escapes his lips once your hand returns to his cock, his mouth hanging open almost immediately once the pace of your fist picks up. "oh yeah- fuck baby just like that."

"faster?" you tilt your head to the side, the same soft brows scrunching and lips slightly pouting at his chest heaving.

"yes, yes please," he lets out a strangled cry and you giggle at the sound, knowing that your pussy's dripping over his lap, but you hold yourself from rutting against his thigh. you just want to prioritise his pleasure over yours. "wanna be inside you, pretty."

yeonjun reaches out to hold onto your hips, chests colliding from pulling you forward. he aligns his tip at your entrance, returning with his lips finally on yours, whispering sweet pleas and promises of wanting to make you feel just as good.

"relax baby," you mumble, lightly nibbling on his lip. "gonna have you cum inside me and fill me up."

you sink down onto him, walls squeezing him and full of his thick cock with his tip nudging against your cervix. the both of you moan in unison, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his one hand on your waist to help you lift your hips and sink back down on him again.

"fuck jjunie, your cock's always stretching me out so good." you whimper as you throw your head back, repeatedly bouncing on his dick and feeling him already twitching inside.

"need, mph, need you to cum with me baby." his free hand moves between your sweaty bodies, fingers naturally rubbing quick circles on your clit. he's so eager to have you catch up with his high, knowing that you'll be cumming in no time from the double simulation.

his lips are back on yours again, swallowing each other's moans and whimpers. your walls are uncontrollably spasming around your lover's twitching dick and you could feel your orgasm catching up to his. yeonjun's hands are both holding onto your waist as he fully lays his back against the bed, holding you up while he whimpers, raising his hips up to drill into your swollen cunt.

"oh baby! yeonjun I'm gonna cum!" you almost squeal from his rapid pace, your hands wrapping around his wrists.

"gonna fill you up so full, gonna make you a mommy on our wedding night." he babbles.

with a couple more harsh thrusts up into your cunt and joint moans, your thighs start shaking around his legs, staccato pumps of warm white ropes gradually fills you up deliciously. yeonjun's hands soothingly rubs the surface of your thighs, panting beneath you as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

"so you really wanna start a family asap?" you ask him genuinely, leaning down and hovering over him as you peck up along his chest and neck, his dick still inside you.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind it." he kisses your forehead and lightly thrusts up into you, causing you to groan quietly in his hold as his cum leaks out slowly. "baby making's just too fun."

you scoff at his comment, shaking your head at him teasingly. once you've caught your breath you lean your head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"I wouldn't mind it either, hunny." you say simply. "I think you'd be a great dad to our children."

yeonjun lifts his head at you abruptly, eyes a little wide in curiosity.

"children? how many? I can give you as many as you want."

you chuckle at his excitement. he's always been so fond of children and him wanting his own is a part of his dreams.

"you're so cute." you cup his cheek and caress his soft skin. "no more than three is enough for me. but give me time in between–"

"oh yeah, of course. I still wanna be able to make love to my wifey without as much disruption." he cuddles you tighter, littering your face with chaste kisses. "baby, I love you so much."

his smile melts your heart, and you still can't believe you're going to marry this wonderful man.

" and I love you so much more."

taglist: @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @ahnneyong @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @moamidzyism @lovejoshua @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @beomnoullistheorem @seolis-world @jak-ey @my313 (send an ask to be part of the taglist! here's the spreadsheet for reference!)

feedback would be much appreciated <3 I haven't written in what feels like years T^T

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[evandsolo]

Home is where you are. | ft. Choi San.

choi san x reader genre : fluff, established relationship, slice of life words : 1,790. trigger warning : none ! if you see some, please tell me. plot : it's your first anniversary with the love of your life. you just spend the night together. side note : i just love San so much, i wanted to write the cutest thing with him ! I hope I gave him justice !

It’s already been a year. The best year of your life if you had to be fully honest. A year since he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. You knew San for a long time before, but could you imagine how amazing your life would be today ? You’ve never felt so loved before, so understood, so cherished, even though his work was taking a lot of his time. He always made sure to have enough time to spend with you.  

“I can't wait to be home and to be with you again” he said on the phone last night making your heart flutter so fast. “I Can't wait either. Will you be home when I get back from work?” You asked, hoping for a positive answer “I'm landing in the morning. I'll probably have to make a stop by the agency before heading home but I'll be there. I promise.” 

Your day was full of meetings and appointments, but you loved your job so much. You had a lot of responsibilities and you've never felt so accomplished in your life ever before. You kept on checking your phone every time you had the chance to. You wanted to make sure your boyfriend arrived safely, but the text did not arrive as soon as you hoped it would. He was supposed to arrive in the morning. He always texted you when landing. He probably had forgotten, you knew he had a lot of things to do. Or maybe the plane was running late. For a second you thought about checking his flight, just to reassure yourself. But it'd be a little bit extra. You let the hours pass by, until it was time for you to go home. Still no news of your lover. You can’t help but start to worry. It’s not usual for him to remain silent, especially when he comes home from a long trip.  

You hoppe in a taxi trying to call his best friend, who also became yours over time. “Yeah ?” answers Wooyoung’s voice on the other side of the phone. “Good lord, you’re alive !” Relief can be heard in your voice. “Of course I am ! Are you okay y/n ?” Okay ? How can you be ? “ I haven’t heard from San since you took off the plane, is he still with you ?” you ask. please please please, tell me he is with you. “No, he left the agency a few hours ago, but I'm pretty sure his phone died. You don’t have to worry, y/n” You try real hard to hold back your tears. “Yeah, I hope you’re right. Thanks Woo.” You finish, hanging out the call. Why hasn't he reached out to you yet ? On that day that seemed so special for the both of you. 

Your way home is full of questions and worries. You try to call him up but you end up again by falling on his voicemail without even a tone. Wooyoung was probably right after all, there was no need to be worried. 

You unlock your door and suddenly your heart stops in your chest. A soft dim light is diffused in the whole apartment, and the floor is covered in red petals. The room is filled with the sound of your favorite melody. All the pieces of the puzzle are assembled and you finally realize what was going on. Your eyes are starting to fill with tears as you move into the room. He stands up here, behind the central island of the kitchen. His eyes finally reach you and you can see the widest smile on his face. “ Hi gorgeous !” He says, in his joyful voice. 

Your bag falls on the ground, and you run into his arms, burying your face into his chest. You were so worried, that seeing him here was the biggest relief ever. “I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He chuckles. “ I missed you, and you didn’t send any text. I thought something bad happened to you.” You admit, keeping your face close to his heart so you could hear his heartbeat. “ My phone died before I left the agency and I didn't have any battery left in the other one. But I had to come home fast.” You sigh in relief. You finally took a second to reach out to his lips and pressed yours against it. “I missed that.” He says, when you step back. 

“What were you cooking? It actually smells so good !” You ask, leaning on the counter to see into the pot. “A Sundubu-jjigae. Your favorite.” He answers, putting a kiss on your temple. “You really make my life feel like a dream, Sannie.” You were so lucky to have him. The sound of your favorite jazzy melody echoed in the room. Everything was so damn perfect. “ Would you like to dance with me ?” He asks, behind your back. “Here ? But the kitchen is way too small, we don't have enough space to dance.” You say, pointing at the room around you. “We won’t be fancy waltzing for sure, but I just want to have you close and swing to music.” He puts his hands around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, and starts swinging softly around the room. Soft light coming from the little spots and candles around the room made it even warmer. That was comforting. You always dreamed of those kinds of moments, but never thought it could be real. But here you are, slow dancing in the arms of the love of your life. “ I’m so thankful for the life we share.” You whisper, eyes riveted in his. He was gentle, understanding. The most caring and beautiful soul you’ve ever seen in your life. He makes you turn around yourself and you can’t help but giggle. “I’m thankful for you, y/n” He murmurs in your ear. keeping you close to him. The music changed, and sadly you stopped the moment. 

It was time for you to freshen-up a little, as the dish was finishing to stew. You had a few minutes before you. Once you reach the room, you find a giant box on the bed. The bow on it doesn't fool you. You also had a present prepared for your lover, but this ! This was quite wild. “Love ? What's in there?” You shout from the room. “Open it, you'll love what's inside !” Curious, you pull the piece of fabric to open the box’s lid. It’s absolutely full of things, and every little detail makes your heart warmer. Twelve items, for twelve months of love. A giant bear plushie, some candies, your favorite perfume, a very pretty bracelet. amongst everything there was a silky sleepwear set. Two cats were embroidered on the top, right on the heart position. It was the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed, and it was quite special to you. It was personalized and showed how much attention he puts in everything you said or shared this past year. You took the time to admire every single item, before heading to the bathroom for a few minutes. 

“So ? You like… Wow ! Hello Baby.”  He says, appearing in the door frame, making your smile become wider. The way he was looking at you, could make you fall in love again. “How did I get that lucky ?” He asks, as you turn to him. He had so much love in his eyes. That's something you have never witnessed ever before. And the way he looked just like a prince out of a fairytale. His half buttoned shirt, rolled out sleeves, perfectly adjusted to his good amount of muscles. He couldn't look more handsome than this. “ You ain’t bad either, love.” You answer him with a little voice both amused and lascivious. You loved the way his honeyskin stood out even more thanks to his white shirt. He probably would be even more handsome without, but you’ll keep that for later.

You grab the small box on the dresser before heading towards him and placing a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “Here’s yours. Open it.” You invite him, a little smile on your lips. You waited for this for days. You knew he'd be so happy.  “What’s in there ?” He says, looking at it closely. But it was just a box, no brand, no distinctive signs of anything. “Just open it !” You press him with all your impatience. You couldn’t wait any longer. He opens the upper part, just to discover a gorgeous beige necklace. “Babe ?” He says, a little bit lost, when taking the object in his big hands. You can’t help but giggle. “You should just read the paper in it, before looking at me like that.” He took it with concern, and read the lines you handwritten him earlier on. 

Hi ! It’s me, Byeol. 

Apparently, you told mom you were hoping to grow the family one day. So here I am the first addition to our family. I may not be a human baby, mom says it’s a little bit too soon, but she said to me you’d be the happiest kitten dad in the world.  

I can’t wait to meet you ! You and mom will come and get me tomorrow morning. 

See ya, Byeol ! 

“Is it real ?” He said, lifting his head up to you, his eyes sparkling with joy. You nod your head quickly, happiness reading in your features. “But you said because of your allergy we couldn’t have cats !” His cautiousness made your heart flutters. “It’ll be okay, I've discussed with doctors and I was able to be desensitized, so we will be able to accommodate her.” You didn’t tell him anything to keep the surprise total. And it worked just as you expected. “ You did that for me ?” He asks, wrapping his giant’s arms around you. “ Yeah. You wanted to have a cat for so long now. I knew you’d be happy.” He leans to you, to kiss you deeply. “Do you know how much I love you ?” He says against your lips, making you smile as you step back a little. “I’d probably love you more after the diner. Because you cannot imagine how hungry I am.” You say, leaving his arms to run to the kitchen. 

From the hallway you can hear him yelling with joy and saying "Guys! I’m going to be a cat daddy!" Probably a voice message he sent to his best friend, impatient to share the big news. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

Life was so good by his side, you hoped it would remain like that, forever. Even how fast, crazy and amazing it is. It’s just as perfect as you expected it to be.

I really hope you appreciated it, do not hesitate to reblog or to leave a note i’d love to read all about your thoughts. ✿

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 ꒱ 钟辰乐

summary : your boyfriend loved basketball… maybe even more than he loved you. but, that also wasn’t true (mostly)

genre : fluff, comedy, chenle x afab!reader, slice of life tws : language, kissing, pet names author notes : based on personal experience (yeah he’s my bf) word count : 0.7k

“czennie, this one’s for you!” you shouted, launching the ball in your hands up into the air. unfortunately, you misjudged how far away the hoop was—or maybe you didnt put enough power into the throw—and you missed by a couple of feet. “shit!”

laugher wafted into your ears. “you can’t say that, and then miss, y/n.”

you turned to him, suddenly faced by your boyfriend; who loved basketball almost as much as he loved you. which came first? you, comically, couldn't decide some days. 

“mark did.” you recounted the viral video of one of his best friends. “so, why can’t i?” you pouted out your bottom lip. 

he approached you, picking up the orange ball at your feet on the way. he then held it out to you. “you can do anything but not take basketball seriously, okay?” 

you took it, sticking your tongue out playfully, and lining up for another shot. “you love this sphere more than me, don’t you?” 

his hands caressed yours, breaking your focus, chest pressed to your back. your face started to heat up at the proximity. you could feel his breath fan your neck as he bent down to be at the same eyeline. “look at the middle of the box.” he commented, pulling your fingers apart, and using your wrist to readjust your grip. “and, make sure you follow through.” 

“i’m a lot of things, but a quitter isn’t one.” you admitted, making him laugh. “watch this!” you pushed the ball from your hands, accepting his assistance in making it go farther.

your eyes grew wider, and you held your breath. for a moment you thought the ball was making it into the hoop this time, chenle gasping from behind you. well, that was until it bounced off the rim right back at you.

and, as if it was a comedy, the ball hit you right on the head. you yelped, trying to gather whatever was left of your thoughts. your hands shot up to clutch the area, pain not spreading until a couple long-lived seconds after it bounced off somewhere. now you hoped it would stay away from you forever. 

you cursed your boyfriend and his stupid hobby. you could’ve been wrapped up in his arms on the couch watching a movie. or eating a hard-earned snack. or doing a stupid dog puzzle. anything other than playing a sport in the dead of night, at some janky hole-in-wall-esk court; concrete cracked, hoop hanging on by a (literal) thread. 

but still, you loved him way too much to not indulge his hobbies with him. you loved him so much it outweighed any pain you felt, physically and mentally. 

“oh my god,” chenle choked on a breath—maybe even a small laugh—holding you close to him and rubbing the area that was used as the backboard. 

and, he loved you too much, too. 

“how’d it only hit me?” you mumbled through his arms. “you’re not even inches away from me. a-and your head’s bigger than mine!” 

he let his arms drop to your shoulders, spinning you to face him. he had an amused grin on his face, but a confused twinge to his eyebrows. “what the hell, babe?” 

your hands innocently pleaded. “i’m just saying!” he eyed you curiously, obviously interested in how you’d turn this around. “it’s true, but i love you and your big head. i think it’s cute—i think you’re so cute.” 

apparently, not very far. 

“babe?” you ran for the ball, leaving him in silence. his mouth hung open at your audacity, the antics making you forget all about the dull pain on your skull. “y/n? are you seri—“ 

he was cut off when you charged for the net, shouting. “chenle, this one’s for you!” and throwing the ball upwards in hopes it’d, at least, make it close. you spun around running up to him instead, trying to distract from the fact that the odds weren’t in your favor. 

your body smacked into his, arms around his neck, his finding home around your waist. 

everything was going too fast, he didn’t have a chance to process anything you were doing. however, he found it oddly adorable. 

you pressed your lips to his, but pulled away when you noticed his eyes were wide. he was looking behind you, an arm coming off your hips to point. “y/n, you actually made it…” 

you whipped around so fast it should’ve been dangerous. “really?” you shouted into the cool night air, voice lowering quickly. “i mean, of course i did.” you felt his arms snake around your waist, holding you close like when he was showing you how to shoot the ball—before it fought back. “it was for you, afterall.” 

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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— back to masterlist .ᐟ

[littlerequiem]

the hitchhiker's guide to isekai ˚⁎⁺ levi x gn!reader

CONTENT — Levi getting isekai'd into our world, (questionable) humor, slice of life, swearing, Levi is a boomer when it comes to technology, pop culture refs, suggestive, mentions of bondage (wc: 1.1k words). Written for Day 3 - Isekai, Levi Month 2024 - @levievent

For as long as you could remember, Levi Ackerman had always been your favorite fictional character. There was something about his strength, his empathy, and his kindness that drew you to him.

Then, one day, the universe delivered him on a silver platter.

It was midsummer night when you found him. There he was, lying in your new antique wardrobe, groggy and half asleep, dark hair tousled to the side. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing; was this really your favorite anime character, in the flesh?

Before you could think on the logistics of it all, however, Levi was already reaching for the small knife tucked in his boot.

And threatening you with it.

It all happened in a flash.

With your heart drumming in your chest, you remember fumbling for words, looking straight into those sharp, silver eyes you’d always imagined must shine like starlight (and gods, they truly did).

Looking back, your first words lacked a certain decorum. “Wh—who—is this some kind of skit, huh? Are you some kind of pervert?!?”

Levi looked at you then like you were a complete idiot.

As it turned out, Levi was not, in fact, a pervert, nor did he mean to end up here in the first place.

Instead, he told you the hard facts: that he was Levi Ackerman, Captain of the Survey Corps. That he owned the same closet in his office, only in his own world. That the last thing he remembers was falling asleep in this piece of furniture, an attempt to hide from Hange who’d been up in arms trying to convince him to help with an experiment.

Your reality, it seemed, was connected to the Attack on Titan universe through a mysterious wardrobe.

(Like fucking Narnia.)

It was then that it was decided that he would stay with you until he found a way home.

A month has passed since this first moment, and to say that your daily life has been altered would be an understatement. You’re living with one of your personal heroes, after all—not that you let him know you view him as such.

Levi is trying to get back to his world, and in the meantime, Levi gets to discover your world: the joys of washing machines, the taste of matcha tea, the ease of hoovers, rock music.

And today, he’s uncovering the mystery that is the internet.

“I don’t understand,” Levi grumbles, his voice rough like sandpaper. Lines of tension form across his pale forehead, his gaze fixed on your laptop propped on the kitchen table. “People spend their time looking at cat... paintings?”

He’s perusing your blog.

“These are actually photographs that you’re looking at, but I suppose people also love drawings of cats. Cats are a very popular topic, see,” you explain, coming closer as you stop him from clicking on a sketchy looking pop up: ‘Free iPhone 15! Claim Yours Now’.

Levi's charged gaze follows as he watches you go about it; you have the thought he smells nice, like fresh linen and tea.

You clear your throat, withdrawing from his personal space. “Um... anyway, that’s not all you can do with the internet. People use it for all sorts of things: you can look up the news, the weather, forums…”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. “What’s that? Sounds like a disease.”

Ah, where to start...

“Forums are online spaces where people can discuss things. You can host debates, provide instructions, and more. Personally, I use them to gush about things I love. Like books!”

Levi clicks his tongue. “So, a bookclub?”

“Mm, yes, and no. Like sure, on the forum I'm a mod for, I love to discuss the plot, the characters, and the writing, but I also just enjoy goofing around with my friends and sharing memes.”

“Me...mes.” Levi looks puzzled by this word.

You stifle a snort. “Memes are like... jokes. Only sometimes, they're also cultural staples.” At his skeptical expression, you shrug. “I guess this world is different from yours, in that respect. We have... less immediate dangers, more free time.”

“That's not a bad thing,” he mutters, tone oddly soft. He averts his tepid gaze, looking back to your blog as he exhales through his nose. “But your world still makes no sense to me. Especially all of this.”

He nods towards the web page.

“It’s okay, the internet takes a while to get used to," you say. "Even for me... I constantly feel like an old crone whenever I hear all the lingo kids are coming up with these days.”

“Hmph.”

Levi looks unimpressed. So, forums—and the internet, it seems—aren’t his thing. Probably for the better—the last thing you need right now is for him to realize there’s a whole fanbase devoted to discussing his character (not to mention the other, less PG-friendly aspects of the conversation).

“Hey, how about we take a break?" You tilt your head, flashing him an easy smile. "You’ve been staring at the screen all morning. It can be a strain on your eyesight.”

Levi’s half-lidded stare crinkles, his lips pursing into a thoughtful pout, the same look he gets whenever you throw him scraps of information about your world and its strange customs.

“I was planning to make some tea,” you add, “want a cup?”

“… if you're making one anyway,” he mumbles, scowling in a way that reminds you of a grumpy cat. Cute.

You head towards your small kitchen, grabbing Levi’s favorite tea bag and laying out clean cups. As the kettle groans alive and you eventually hear that familiar sizzling that tells you the water’s come to a boil, another noise coming from behind garners your attention.

“Oi, something happened to your cat photo-thing,” you overhear Levi drawl.

You turn with a raised brow.

That’s when you notice that Levi’s somehow ended up on your desktop page, the familiar sight of your screensaver (more cats!) appearing into view.

But that’s also when you notice the mouse is hovering dangerous close to one of your folders... your babygirl folder.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no...

“DON’T CLICK THAT!” you plead, attempting to rush to his side to avoid the embarrassment of a lifetime.

Too late. Levi has entered the folder and somehow managed to click on one of the more scandalous pictures; your peripheral catches his expression, and it's the most stupor you've seen on his face yet... and is that pink dusting his cheeks?

Because Levi is looking straight at one of the fanarts you’d saved of him months ago.

Where his pixelated counterpart is tied up. Stark naked.

Well, shit.

— Masterlist / Join my taglist

[abbeym28]

Clarisse x Reader - Once More to See You

Clarisse x gn! reader, any cabin

An- sorry this took so long to get out! Anyways, thank you guys so much for liking my other Clarisse fics! This is my fourth one, so I hope that they get better with the more I write, but pls let me know if this is bad! Idk where my mind was when I wrote this lol. 3.3k words! Let me know if I messed anything up, and tell me what you guys thought of the last pjo ep! Dior looked as beautiful as always!!!!

Warnings!- nightmares, kissing, affection, mentions of training and weapons, pet names, pls let me know if something was missed!

The sun was almost to much to bear.

Beating down on Clarisse, it was almost melting. But she continued to swing her spear at the training dummy, hitting as hard as she could while making sure to be acutely aware of where she was landing the hits.

She was also very aware of the eyes that followed her every move. 

She knew that it was you, the only person at camp she allowed to get close to her. For some reason.

“Do you want to train with me?” She paused to yell and to look over at you.

“I’ll pass.” You were standing on the sidelines holding Clarisse's water bottle and her towel. She looked back at the dummy once before relaxing a bit and walking over to you. She grabbed the water and jugged it.

“How's day goin’ for you, angel?” You rolled your eyes just a bit and smiled at her nickname for you. She has called you that ever since you two really became friends, and almost gone is the flustered feeling it used to give you.

Almost.

“Really good actually, pretty girl.” Clarisse then took that chance to roll her eyes back at you, but the sun was definitely getting hotter because there was definitely no other reason why Clarisse’s face was feeling so warm all of the sudden, even after her intake of cool water.

“Oh yeah? What have you been doing?” She took the towel that you had extended to her and sat down on the closest bench. She nodded along as you recounted your day and how you spent the most of it doing crafts and training with the younger campers. She sat and listened until it was time for dinner, where the two of you sat side by side at the Ares table, even though it wasn’t technically allowed.

A few of her siblings teased the two of you, but it was a common occurrence, so they all knew that this was normal and would continue to be so. But they also couldn't just let it slide.

Clarisse made sure you were close by the rest of the night, completing both of your nightly routines that have over time molded together to make sure that they could fit like a puzzle piece.

She walked you to your cabin, and just like on any other night, there was a slight itch in her hand and the thought in her brain that she should be holding on to you in some way.

Linked hands, her arm around your shoulder, her hand guiding you whilst being placed on the small of your back. All feel like they could be the most natural thing in the world, if only your relationship could be just a little different.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Your question broke her from her thoughts and she just nodded.

“Yeah. Sleep tight, got it?” You smiled and hesitated before pulling her in for a quick hug. She tried to get over her surprise fastly, but you were quicker to end the hug then she was able to melt into you.

“So, um… goodnight.” You turned and walked into your cabin, Clarisse and one of your siblings who had witnessed the event watching with wide eyes. She made eye contact with them, and her shock dropped from her face. “Scram.” Your sibling nodded and wordlessly walked past her, going to some place she could care less about.

She stood there for another minute or so, her hand covering the bottom off her face as she sighed. The sun was gone now, but for some reason, her face felt all too hot right now.

She was beginning to think that the reason and cause had to do something with you.

Clarisse woke with a start the minute the creak of a floor board was heard across the cabin. She had practically trained herself to be awake at any moment, though she could mostly thank her fathers genes for that convenient trait.

None of her siblings seemed to have got it though, since none of them had even stirred.

She squinted her eyes to try to see through the darkness. “Hello?” she whispered out. The outline of a person stuck standing near the doorway visibly let some tension out of their shoulders as they began to move towards her, seemingly uncaring of the other little creaks that the old wood would let out.

“Clarisse?” Clarisse also then let out a breath, as well as a lot of the tension she was also holding.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” She sat up a bit more properly and scooted more to the side of her bed that was touching the wall, patting the now empty wedge, the sheets still wrinkled from the few hours of tossing and turning and sleep she had got.

You moved into that space next to her, bringing your knees up to your chin and  your arms wrapped around your legs.

Uh oh. Clarisse thought. The fetal position was never a good sign.

She hesitated before reaching her own arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer to her, hoping that you could soak in some of the warmth Ares kids were notorious to have.

But she was still an Ares kid.

Comfort was not something she was really familiar with.

“What happened?” Her mind began to wander a bit, thinking that you must have gotten hurt. But who would hurt you knowing they would have to face her wrath? Her hands shook a little as she went through a list in her mind of potential people. It must have been one of your siblings, probably the one who-

“I had a nightmare.” Your voice was barely audible, but just the sound almost instantly calmed Clarisse down.

“Yeah? Do you want to talk about it? Or….” you shook your head no. “Do you want to stay the night here?”

You shifted a bit to look at her, and she noticed your eyes were a bit red and puffy. She wondered a bit about what could have happened in your dream if it made you have this strong of a reaction. All demigods got nightmares, you and Clarisse being no exception.

But this was the first time you had ever sought the other out like this.

“Can I?” You whispered.

“Any time.” She gently coaxed you out of your position so that way the two of you could lay flat on your backs, her arm still protectively holding you. “You know that I’m super strong, right? Whatever was scary in your dream was definitely no match against me.” You giggled, and Clarisse smiled.

She then spent some time talking about how she could protect you against anything, right until you fell asleep. She watched you for a moment, the peaceful look and the rise and fall of your chest bringing her comfort. She gently pushed a bit of hair away from your face and refused the urge in which was telling to place a kiss on your forehead.

She settled beside you, and sleep came easier for her then it had ever been since she had found out she was the daughter of war.

Sunlight streamed a bit too harshly through the windows making Clarisse try to close her eyes tighter. She groaned when she realized it was useless.

Someone cuddled in closer to her, their arms getting stronger around her waist. She tensed up a bit before remembering last night. The both of you were laying on your sides facing each other, all of your limbs seemed to be entangled with hers. She leaned into you more and began to close her eyes again.

That was before she heard the giggles of her siblings.

Her eyes shot open, and there were some of her brothers and sisters, standing above her bed, two of them with cameras. “What the fu- get away! Get!” She whisper- yelled, trying her best to not be close to your ear while making sure you didn't move much. Her siblings just laughed, took a picture, and then ran out of the cabin, their heavy steps making her flinch.

“What time is it?” Your voice distracted her from glaring at the still left open door. Her eyes flickered to her alarm clock. “It’s almost nine.” You hummed and burrowed your face into her neck.

She tried to ignore that.

Clarisse was always an early riser. Sleeping in any time after seven made her moody, and naps were completely out of the question and annoying to her.

So how was she able to sleep till nine, breaking her 5:30 wake up and missing both of her alarms? And why did she feel so… rejuvenated? Were you numbing her senses?

“We should get up.” You looked up at her, your eyes all sleepy and a small frown on your face.

“You don’t want to stay with me?”

Oh.

The room felt a bit hotter all of the sudden.

“Don’t you have classes to teach? The kids can't learn how to craft all by themselves.” She smirked as you blinked at her. You groaned and sat up, cutting off the skin contact and effectively making Clarisse feel colder and as if she was missing something.

“You’re lucky that I like what I do. I’ll see you at lunch, ‘kay?” You smiled at her and got up, stretching as you left her cabin to walk to yours.

All Clarisse could think about was; "is she actually lucky?"

The rest of the day seemed to go like normal, with you and Clarisse doing your separate duty’s while still finding times and places where the two of you could meet.

She was able to track and threaten her siblings, the ones who had taken the pictures of you two sleeping. She confiscated the camera, but when no one else was looking she pocketed one of the photos.

For safekeeping. She justified to herself.

To make sure that no one else would see it.

That night when you said your good nights, you hugged her again. This time it was a hug she was able to lean into, one that she was able to savor.

She was about to offer you to stay with her again, just another night. But the words got stuck in her throat as you pulled away.

“Stay safe, promise?'' Your words made her curious, but she wasn’t going to question you. It clicked that this was probably because of your dream.

“Have you even met me?” She laughed a bit, and you smiled at her softly.

It made her falter a bit. If any enemies were just a smidge like her, then that smile alone would stop an army.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I promised the kids that we would teach the sword class together.” She sounded a bit breathless, and she hoped that it was only in her mind. You hesitated, but nodded.

“See you tomorrow.”

Clarisse has been on edge ever since the clock turned to twelve. It was around this time that you had come to her yesterday, and even though it was a one time event, (or so she figured it would be), it felt like there was a pit in her stomach, and she couldn't help but feel like you were in some sort of danger.

She was almost ready to jump off her bed and speed walk to your cabin.

“Clarisse, can you stop?” One of her siblings whispered from some other bunk and she sighed. She realized that she was tossing and turning louder than she thought.

“I’m taking a walk.” She flipped the sheets off of her and walked out the door, making her way silently to your cabin. There were only a handful of times that she has been in here, but she knew where your bed was.

You were tossing and turning worse then how she was, sweat dripping down your chin to your neck. She gently touched your shoulder, something she knew she probably shouldn't have done, but it was enough to wake you from your sleep.

You sat up fast, your chest moving rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped.

“Clarisse? What… why are you here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her, still breathing hard.

“I felt that you weren't okay. Another nightmare?” You nodded as she continued to stand above you.

“Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna- I’ll… leave.” She turned around, but your hand caught her wrist with a tight grip before she was able to get far.

“Can you… can you stay?'' You were looking at her with those eyes again, and her breath was gone as well.

“Yeah. I can.” Her voice was too soft, a soft that would make her father distaste her even more. But she climbed into your bed, and for another night she slept with you in her arms.

The two of you occupied each other's beds for the next month, but neither of you spoke of the tension that riddled the space between you.

Nightmares didn't plague you any more, and Clarisse was getting better sleep then she had ever gotten before. That was until Chiron called her to his office.

“A quest?” Chiron nodded.

“Yes, one that was provided by one of the gods themselves, Hera. She asked for an Ares kid to complete this for her. You’ll think about it, won’t you?”

Clarisse nodded slowly.

“Perfect. Now, get back to your activities.”

Clarisse left his office like that. Her mind was clouded, and she didn't really know what to do.

Of course she had to take it, this was another great opportunity to show how great she was to her dad, and how far her training has come.

But she couldn't help thinking: what about you? How would you be if she had left? Quests could take up any amount of time, and what if something happened to her? Or you while she was away?

“What was that about?” Luke appeared next to her, catching her by surprise. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“A quest. They specifically want me.” Luke nodded, and he had that weird thoughtful look on his face that made Clarisse’s nose wrinkle.

The two of them hardly got along well, but as cabin counselors they had to be civil. She looked around at the trees as they walked together towards the training ground, that is until Luke spoke your name.

“Do they know?” He asked. She shook her head.

“No other campers but you knows.” He just nodded his head again. He smirked and looked at her.

“Can't wait to see how that goes.” And then he turned and walked the other way, leaving Clarisse standing there in slight shock. What was that about? Did he know something she didn’t?

She shook it off the best that she could before walking to where you were.

There was a smile on your face as you helped an eight year old boy from the Hermes cabin hold his sword properly. She watched as you stepped back and let him swing it at the target, clapping your hands and laughing a bit once he finally got it right. He ran to give you a hug, and you hugged him back, and she could tell from where she was that you were praising his abilities. Clarisses heart felt so full, and all though she thought it was impossible, she could swear she was falling for you even more.

Maybe Silena was right, and she is a stickler for domesticy. Maybe a quest wasn't what would make her truly happy. Maybe it was a life with you.

“Clarisse!” You were running towards her and she caught you in a hug.

“Hey. I was actually hoping that we could talk for a bit.” The smile stayed on your face while confusion clouded your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Sure, okay.”

The two of you walked into the forest together, stopping in a clearing which happened to be Clarisse’s favorite place at camp. Other than wherever you were. You took her hand in yours in a way that she assumed you thought would bring her comfort, but it just made her heart beat faster.

“The gods want me to go on a quest.” She blurted out. Your face and mood fell and you took your hand out of her grip gently.

“And what did you say?”

“Well, I'm technically still thinking about it, but I think that this could be good for me. Hera wants this thing done for her, and you know that I have trained for this, and it would be nice if my father would recognize me at least once. But I also- Angel? Are you okay?”

You looked as if you were about to cry, one hand hovering over where your heart is and the other almost covering your mouth. You were shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Clarisse didn’t like it one bit.

She moved towards you, placing her hands on either side of your shoulders and helping you sit on the ground. She put your face in between her collarbone and neck, stroking your hair softly as you sniffled.

“What’s wrong?” She was unsure that you would answer, but you shifted your head a bit back.

“This is just like my nightmare.”

It all kind of made sense now.

“I had them, for like, a week before I first went to your cabin. It’s always the same some how, with you accepting a quest from Hera and never returning, or you go missing and I have to be the one to find your body, or I go with you and I can’t do anything about that stupid monster you fight, and I just-” You were crying, Clarisse could practically feel them burn into her skin.

“I don’t want to lose you Clarisse. Not on a dumb quest or ever. I don’t know what to do without you.” Clarisse nodded a bit and fiddled with a piece of your hair.

“I chased away the dreams though, right?” She had no clue if you would appreciate any type of small joke she made, and she figured she was dead when you pulled away from her a little and looked into her eyes, your lips slightly parted in what she could only guess was surprise.

Then you leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.

She was surprised, just like how she was when you had first hugged her. You pulled away quicker this time, fear evading finding your eyes for the split second before Clarisse pulled you back in, returning the kiss you first started with as much passion as she could possibly convey. You were both breathless the next moment once you realized that you had to get air.

“I don’t know what to do about the quest.” Clarisse whispered. She didn’t know why she did, but she felt like something could break if she didn’t.

“I don’t know either.” You responded, your voice as low as hers.

“I-... I think I like you.” Clarisse confessed.

Although they weren't exactly the words she wanted to say, (She knew for a fact that she was in love with you), but it still felt as if a slight weight was lifted off of her. You leaned back into her, so close that she could practically feel the smile that grew on your face on her lips.

“I think I like you too, pretty girl.” And she smiled too.

“Why do you call me that?” She tilted her head as you leaned back and laughed.

“Because you're pretty.”

The way you said it with so much certainty, as if you knew she could rival Aphrodite herself, made Clarisse feel bubbly, and she wasn’t someone who would ever really feel like that.

She didn't know what she would do about the quest.

She didn’t know what you would do if you found out if she ever accepted, or what punishment she would face if she were to turn it down.

But Clarisse La Rue was in love with you, and she would protect you from those nightmares for as long as you let her.

[racinggirl]

you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

[missmarveledsblog]

THE BABYSITTING TRAP (18+)

Summary:  the gang made  a plan to set steve up and Y/n hopper up, did they expect it to go so well ?

Warning : smut , soft dom steve , praise kink , daddy kink , hair pulling   , spanking just steve unleashing his inner eddie to be fair . also everything nancy did and tension during season 4 we're just going to pretend it was us instead.  steve being fluffier than his hair . this is 18+ minors not welcome

As far as failed night go , he was starting to think this was possibly could be the best night of his life.  All he had to do was well  tell her how  he felt . which kinda was hard to do watching to move around her trailer wearing his t-shirt  making them popcorn  to watch a movie alone , together . the girl of his dreams , one that stood by everything , one who appreciated him .  little thing she would do told him as much  when they were hanging as group. she stop them teasing him about his failed love life , made sure eddie didn't eat his favourite snacks if he was running late , hell even having his favourite snacks there .  how she would actually listen to what he had to say during the whole upside down situation .  checking his wounds and making sure everything was healing  or cleaned properly.  how when he was pulled under water she was straight in after .. maybe shit he was idiot . the kids were right and it was right in front of him the whole time . he for once didn't think of his action , when she came over he helped her with placing the things down not before pulling her on to his lap and  cuddling her close , god her giggles made his day, a melody he could listen to on repeat he was sure of it .  " what has gotten into you harrington, not that i'm complaining  " her smile , that damned smile could make anyone's day brighter  . " something that took me way too long to do " he said proud his voice didn't squeak or waver  . " and what would that be " god he had the usually confident teasing yet kind and caring y/n nervous.  " taking that step   ,  a step we both wanted , to finally stop kidding myself and finally go after the girl i want so bad it physically hurts sometimes , making sure no one can take her away " he smiled leaning up and capturing her lips with his .  she wanted to punch herself the shit she  used to say about how ridiculous movie kissing was bullshit . she could literally eat her words with how wrong she was .  how his lips against hers felt like they were meant to be there . two puzzle pieces connect to reveal the whole picture. souls reconnecting after eternity searching for  each other , nerves coming to life , fire work the lot . 

Needing air they reluctantly pulled back , both shit eating grins on there faces .  " about time harrington i was beginning to lose hope " she sighed dramatically head falling against his chest. " hey you could have said something you know " he defended finger lifting her chin to make her eyes align with his . " maybe i was scared " she bit her lip which wasn't a lie  , she'd been the same telling the group they were seeing things .  " well i was was terrified , i mean imagine losing this beautiful , kind , sweetheart , kinda an asshole sarcastic woman and one of my best friends because i told her i love her so much it drive me insane" he bared it all everything he was feeling over the years . " wait love " she sat up looking at him fully searching his eyes  making sure it wasn't some stupid prank between him and the kids or eddie .  " love like full blown burn the world down for you love " he  repeated .  what words failed , actions didn't she crashed her lips against his  hungrily showing him how much she loved him , how he made her go on when she thought she couldn't , how he gave her the strength to fight when she felt weak . steve harrington held a place in her heart  since the moment she met him , those puppy brown eyes had her locked , hook , line and sinker .  she pulled the back of his neck in a bid to get closer , while her skin burned with a need  only he could satisfy .    a quick turn of positions and she was now straddling the man she dreamed about for so long .  steve kissed back harder like she was his only source of oxygen while his hands land on her hip pulling her closer .  like it was on instinct her hips rolled making the man  under let out the sexiest almost primal moan she had ever heard . it was surreal she had steve the hair harrington moaning beneath her .   " if we gonna do this baby girl then we are going to need that bed of yours " a husk almost whisper against her ear making her whimper. steve harrington made her  give out the neediest whimper  something she wasn't aware could happen.  " take me to bed steve " she moaned feeling his strain against his jeans . 

without be breaking the kiss , he lifted her effortlessly up off the chair , holding her steady as he kissed down her neck  the t-shirt he love seeing on  her was now in his way . she could feel her skin almost burn with desire pulling the shirt over her head showing  the pink lace bra hiding underneath . " i definitely died and now in heaven" he teased kissed down her chest as he hand pushed her bedroom door open and kicking it closed . laying her softly on the bed as she pulled her shorts off . " eager are we " he smirked seeing the lust blown eyes , kiss bitten lips and it was all for him .  " please steve fuck touch me , kiss me do something " she kneeled before him pulling him by his waist band .    "yeah i died and this is heaven " he growled pushing her on her back while giving her almost a bruising kiss .  licking , biting down her neck as he unclasped her bra sitting up to admire her , the dream he had were nothing in comparison to the real deal. " fuck you are so beautiful baby girl " his hand giving teasing pinches to her now hardened peaks .  " oh you like that huh baby" he grin bowing his head . at first it teasing kitten licks , before a hiss broken moan came from her lips feeling him sucking and  biting her nipples soft mouth making her core throb with a need . her panties drenched at the way he handled her in such as short space of time.  she felt a fire burn deeper when his kissing began to continue down her body .   even touch of his lips felt like her wildest dreams coming to life yet it still wasn't enough she needed more of him , all of him . " can i take these off"  he asked a false coyness lilt to his deep husky voice. " fuck yes please i need you " she whimpered . " oh baby girl daddy's gonna take care of you , be a good girl and sit back while i eat this little pussy of yours,  can you do that " fuck this was definitely a dream ." yes daddy i'll be good " .   she hissed feeling his finger sliding up and down painful slow yet not even where she wanted . " all this for me such a good girl ..mmm you taste fucking heavenly i knew you would my sweet beautiful girl " he moaned tongue swirling tasting her slick . never did he think he would have her  tasting so sweet on his tongue dancing on his taste buds it was safe to say he was already addicted. " mm fuck daddy " she cried feeling his tongue swirl around her puffy clit sending her head crashing against the pillow  the pulling his hair and her back arching at the sensation . steve harrington ate pussy like it was a five course meal and his last meal all in one . she felt her coil tighten and windup so tight she almost screamed when it snapped making his actions faster lapping up her orgasim . " fuck i'm doing that daily fucking hell baby you taste so good " he groaned wiping her juices from his face.  

" now i need to be in that pussy because i near damn came in my fucking boxers like a little virgin , can i fuck you my sweet girl " he smiled down seeing her blissed out face.  she couldn't speak all her mind consisted of was him and him needing to be inside her . " too cock drunk speak  that's ok daddy will take care of you " he growled teasing his cock through her folds coating him up ,underestimating his own control but slowly he began pushing in , feeling the softness of her walls  it was like she was made for him and him  alone .  she couldn't help the pleading and begging that flew out of her mouth nor if someone told her this would happen she'd laugh in their face yet here she was doing just that  .  " FUCK" she cried as he began to thrust hitting spots in her body she never knew where there ,  her nails  scraping down his back in a bid to pull him closer anyway she could but what surprised her most was when he pinned her hands above her head , fucking her into the mattress like it was his main goal in life  turning her on more that she even thought was possible . babbles and moans filling the room along with the filthiness spewing from the  mans mouth .  " daddy fuck just like that " she cried wanting to grab him but hell even the restricted movement made it better somehow. he let go of her hands gliding them down pinching her nipples as he passed them before he began circling her clit  . " we cum together baby i can feel it  " he growled as she clenched around . " now " his thrust sloppy then she felt his cum filling her up painting ever part of her cervix as she herself clenched down milking ever part of it .  " fuck that was...." she panted . " totally happening every chance we get .. i totally agree" he joked pulling out of her. " steve you know i love you too right .. so much it drives me insane " she leaned up lasily kissing him as he pulled her to his chest .  

bonus : 

" i'm not going in there but it's safe to say the plan worked and dustin is traumatise " robin nodded face in pure disgust. " who knew harrington was a kinky fuck " eddie smirked . " can we please just go " dustin whispered . " come on we can get the money of steve for therapy " robin led him toward eddies van . " HARRINGTON YOU ARE MY HERO " eddie yelled in . " munson come on before henderson barfs in your van " robin hissed. 

[jirsungs]

ep 13: my wonderwall, at least i hope so

word count: 1.5k words

It's already been two months and three weeks since you and Jisung started hanging out. That's also how long the overthinking thoughts of whether you really want to pursue this relationship or not have been torturing you as they're kept in a locked folder in the back of your mind. 

You knew you and Jisung had to have the talk at some point, but every time you tried, the timing was always a bit… off.

The first time you tried was two weeks ago, at another Rockway gig. It was getting on your nerves that a bunch of screaming girls came to that particular performance of theirs, especially when some of them were eyeing Jisung and losing their minds every time he looked over in their direction to play his typical drummer role of pleasing the audience correctly. Even though he caught their attention the whole night, you caught his, which is how you succeeded in pulling him aside after Rockway finished their performance.

“Jisung, can I talk to you for a moment?”

It wasn't the right time or place, sure, but you had to get this off your chest because your heart felt like it was on a ticking time bomb.

Jisung joins you in the corner after he frees himself away from the girls around him once Chenle gets his signal that he’s desperate for a way out. “What’s up? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you. I know this isn't a good time right now but I seriously need to say this.”

He only raises his brow, “Okay.” He's anxious, but he doesn't have time to dwell on how he's feeling when he's worried about you. The way you’re visibly stressing out has him putting the pieces together on why you called him over, but as Chenle and Jeno said, he was going to wait for your lead.

“I like—” 

You. I like you. That's what you were supposed to say, and so much more. Until some dumb overly excited girls came over and interrupted your private conversation. 

The squeals of “Jisung, you did soooo well tonight!”, “You were so hot up there!” and “Can I get your number?” sounded blurry in your head with how irritated you were getting.

Yeah… You ended up leaving Jisung and the party in general despite the sad protests from your friends on how “you needed to cheer yourself up.” But, you brushed them off by telling them that it was impossible to do that right now. 

So, you ended your night in your apartment alone with the accompaniment of a big bucket of cookie dough ice cream, multiple episodes of How I Met Your Mother, and no friends or Jisung by your side. 

You tried again the week after, but just like last time, it did not turn out so well.

You should've known that it wouldn't work because it was during a hangout with both of your friend groups, specifically hosted at Jisung and Jeno's apartment.

Jaemin, Haechan, Chenle, and Yeonjun were busy being loud as they screamed over one another during a game of Mario Kart 8 in the living room while Jeno helped Ning finish a two-thousand-piece puzzle downstairs. And, Mark and Renjun were nowhere to be found due to them both having different plans set for that day.

Which left you and Jisung in his room. Alone. He originally brought you up here to show off his new collectibles, so you weren't sure how you ended up watching a movie with him on his bed.

It seemed like the perfect time to tell him, it really did. But just as you were about to open your mouth, your phone rang, leaving you on the phone with Renjun for three whole hours while he ranted about someone who pissed him off at his group study session. And by the time your conversation with Renjun ended and you hung up, Jisung was already occupied by a game of Super Smash Bros with your friends in the living room. 

You're still mad at Renjun for ruining the moment.

And now, you're here, a few days after, in Jeno and Jisung’s apartment once again, but this time, sitting on their living room couch with him right next to you. 

Neither of you spoke during the movie you were currently watching, probably because you both wanted to ignore the awkward tension that's been spiraling around the two of you for the past few weeks. But to you, now seemed like the perfect time to break that. It was dark out and you were both left alone as Jeno had to leave to run errands. 

“Ji, can you pause the movie?”

Without asking, Jisung mutters “Sure.” before grabbing the remote control and pausing the movie.

With his attention on you, you sit up and fix your posture on the couch, which he mirrors. You thought fixing your appearance would help balance yourself from the overcoming emotions you knew you were going to have at this very moment. 

“Okay, well—”

But then, you get interrupted again. Not by Jeno walking in, or a random phone call from one of your friends, but by him.

“Wait! Before you tell me your thing, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

Despite the small annoyance that was creeping on you, you dismissed it and instead, anticipated what he was going to say. Most times, you didn’t mind how oblivious Jisung was, but right now, you really wish he could read the room and let you say what’s on your mind. You hope he’s going to say the same thing you were going to say, but he didn’t need to interrupt you for it…

Your silence cues him to continue, “You remember Oasis? You know, the band I told you about?” You nod. “Okay, um, there’s this one song by them, it’s actually one of my favorites. It’s called Wonderwall, it’s kinda like a love song but uh—I’m not saying we’re in love ‘cause obviously we’re not—”

“We’re not?”

Shit. That’s not what Jisung meant.

He panics, “No! I mean–yes? Fuck, I dunno, Y/N.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

The thing is, you know that he didn’t mean anything bad out of it, then how come you felt your heart break into two hearing how unsure he felt about you? Should you even confess right now? No, this doesn’t feel right.

The room is full of complete and uncomfortable silence with no other words said, and it annoys the hell out of you. You can tell it bothers Jisung just as much because you watch him mentally stress out in front of you, his face in his hands as he lets out an exasperated sigh. Both of your minds were pushing you to fix the problem, but you can’t. You don’t know how to. This is new for you both, and that’s the problem. 

Just as Jisung grasps a new idea in his head, he sees you physically pull farther away from him before you grab your bag from the side and stand up from your place on the couch. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your voice coming out quavered, “I–um, I gotta go.”

Scared to see his reaction or hear his voice, you thought what was best. You escape. You rush out of his apartment, giving him no time to react at all. The last sounds Jisung heard were the slam of the door and the words Chase after her, don’t her go from the little voice in his head.

Jisung knew you were hiding yourself away from him again. He noticed it the first night you hung out and some moments after that, but he felt that it was insensitive to bring it up out of nowhere. Right now was one of those moments. 

When you’re outside of the apartment, you’re met with Jeno who’s looking at you, puzzled and worried. Even though it felt like your world was crashing down on you, the way he almost resembled a Samoyed dog and how you could imagine the cogs in his brain turning lightened your mood a little bit. But just like Jisung, you gave him no time to say anything. 

“Y/N!” You hear Jeno call after you after you quickly walk away. 

Just like he expected you to, you ignore him and he watches you rush down the stairs. Many scenarios were circling in his head right now, but he didn’t want to assume the worst before he asked Jisung himself.

Jeno inserts his assigned key into the key slot before turning it, the door unlocking right after. He walks in and sees no Jisung in the living room or kitchen. 

There’s no way that kid escaped. He thinks.

He’s about to let it pass him by until he notices Jisung’s door slightly cracked open. He walks over and gently pushes it to reveal the younger one sprawled on his bed. Though he knows it’s not the best moment, he snickers at the sight. Oh, Jisung's in love. 

Then, he hears a pouty “You know, I can hear you, Jeno.” come from Jisung before he watches him switch positions on his bed. His disheveled hair and the I fucked up expression he’s wearing tell Jeno all he needs to know. 

Already knowing he’s going to be here for a while, the said man opens the door more to give himself space to get comfortable. He rests his body against the doorframe, folds his arms then sighs, “Alright, what’d you do, kid?”

“I messed up.”

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

note: i had my considered "sad songs" on repeat the whole time i was writing this and i think i memorized every single song by the time i was done with it ☠️ also, new twt pfps 😱 (they made me feel better) but i am wishing our dms couple all the happiness in the world ☹️

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm @mrshwang-park @neozon3nha @joyzluvr @aerivrs @nosungluv @haechology

[weaselandfriends]

The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

And in 2024—

In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years  and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

[odezsmi]

good n plenty

pairing: rin okumura + reader

warnings: light angst, hurt w/comfort

now playing 🎶 : good & plenty by alex isley, masego, + jack dine

an: hello !! this is my first time writing fics on tumblr ! while written elsewhere, i thought it would be amazing to try this out here now bc now or never lolol.

“You know you really don’t have to be here, right? feels like you’re monitoring me at this point.”

“Monitoring you? I can’t simply spend time with my boyfriend?”

The words came off as playful, but while his tone mirrored yours, you knew what he meant.

See, Rin Okumura eventually had come to terms with who he was. While it took a bit longer than he had wanted, he knew who he was inside and out.

Being Satan’s son was the heaviest burden anyone could carry, and Rin had fallen victim to that.

With every event that had transpired so far in his life, from the Blue Night to Kyoto and other following events he accepted the fact that he was Satan’s son.

Satan. A fallen angel, once radiant and powerful, who defied divine authority and was casted out of Heaven. A symbol of evil, human frailty even and the enemy of God. A being who sought to destroy God’s children and bring nothing but destruction.

But Rin Okumura?

Oh, nothing hurt more than to see how wrong people could be about this careful being.

Rin was anything but destructive. If anything, he’s more gentle than anyone you’ve ever met.

With the kindest words and the gentlest of gazes towards you, you never understood what it was about you that caught his eyes.

And each time you asked whether it be a joke or not, you were always met with his softness and light words.

“Because you see me.”

And that, made him more human and less of a spawn.

You saw him for his eccentric self, whether it’s over his cooking for him and his brother. Or how Kuro slept the previous night and he’s showing the 45 pictures he took.

Whether it be how he’s excited he’s invited out of a simple game of baseball with the other ex wires or an older woman took time out of her day to chat with him, you saw him for who he was.

Not what he was forced to be.

Sometimes though, the reminders of who he is catch up to him and he’s left shaken up with fear and doubt. The fear of his friends leaving him for good, of losing Yukio, or even losing you.

You received a call at 3 am and now you’re snuck into the dorms, not caring that he’s seeing you with crazed hair and your athletic-based pajamas.

“Plus it sounded like you realllllly wanted me here. Didn’t we just have a date? Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” The cheesy grin was enough to make the boy scoff.

“Hey- I have a cat I can also talk to-“

“Who I can’t understand-“

“And go back into my super comfortable twin bed by myself. Well. With him too.”

It wasn’t long before you were laughing gently at his banter, reminding yourself Yukio was asleep down the hall.

If he were awake he’d certainly scold you two for being up so late.

“Well, can Kuro enjoy some nice chamomile tea and spend time with you like this?”

It was unfortunately also a late night with heavy storms, the drops pattering against the windows. It was loud and clear for the two of you, and you had managed to distract Rin for a bit from it (in case he felt guilty for making you come here).

As he glances over at a window from the empty cafeteria, you stare at his features for a bit and exhale through your nostrils.

What you would give to ease his troubles, to take away all of his fears and insecurities. It was a late night and he clearly had a nightmare, one which his friends had shunned and demeaned him for his heritage.

While not possible with all you guys have been through as exwires, who are you to dismiss that?

You’ll never understand the full extent of it, but you’ll be there as much as you can for him.

“Rin?”

His head turns from the window to look at you, a puzzled look on his features.

His expression was precious enough you’re already smiling, eyes crinkled and teeth showing. Thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you hum.

“You’re… you’re so good. You’re just… a beautiful being.”

The words caught him off guard, and both of you sat in a moment of silence.

Him? Good?

Are you sure you’re talking about him?

“But-“

“You’re a gift from the universe, a blessing to many. You’re choosing a life for yourself, and defying anyone else who disagrees. Who tells you what you should be and what you are. Except…” You frown, and that worries him for a moment.

“I wish you saw how wonderful you are from my eyes.”

Wonderful.

Wonderful? All he can remember being called is aggressive, a brute, hell even a thug.

But a blessing? Wonderful? Satan would be laughing if he heard the formal.

But…

Hands withdrawing from him, you chuckle to yourself out of meekness. “Maybe that’s a bit much. Sorry if it was weird-“

Your words died in your throat when his arms engulfed you, yelping a little from the force. Your arms hung in the air uselessly as you tried to look at your boyfriend.

“Rin?”

“Stay the night with me.”

“Huh? But-“

“Please.”

The word is forced out, in a way which you understand in a snap. His hug was tight, body trembling and voice strained.

Brushing his locks down for comfort, you stand from your chair and nod. “Okay.”

With you in his arms, his soul was able to find a little bit more peace. The tranquility of the rain and him holding you close to his chest brought on sleep to him.

For so long, he had been haunted by the echoes of his past, the weight of his bloodline threatening to drown him in despair.

But in your arms, he found sanctuary — a haven where his flaws were not condemned, but embraced with love and understanding.

And just like that, he fell asleep and remained asleep throughout the rest of the night.

Until of course, a very hungry cat woke him up and an irritated younger brother scolded you both for this recklessness.

It was all worth it in the end for Rin.

(teehee I didn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes; I wrote this at 2 am.)

[sebscore]

the other drivers finding a hickey on gen z driver! reader and trying to find out who gave it to her it would be so funny😭😭

WHAT HAPPENS IN MONACO, STAYS IN MONACO

pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: hickey. innuendos. rushed writing (lol, I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack pls).

author's note: thanks for the request! I know this has been in my drafts for a long time so I'm very sorry that it took me a while!! hope you still see this <3 also thank you to @12-seconds-to-live for the title inspo!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

The Monaco Grand Prix was always one of the highlights of the season- the prestige and luxury it brought forward was matched by no other race.

It was also the home of many F1 drivers, including herself. So it wasn't too out of the ordinary for a bunch of them to get together and celebrate in one of the many clubs the city had to offer.

''Y/N, we're going out later tonight, wanna join?'' Pierre asked her, all of their media duties done for the day. Lando, Charles, Max, George and Alex amusingly looked at her, already knowing she would never pass the opportunity to party.

She scrunched her nose, feeling the teasing coming from a mile away. ''I, uh, actually have other plans.''

''What do you mean you have other plans?'' The frowns on the guys' faces didn't do their obvious confusion justice. ''You're seriously saying no to a party with us?'' George was flabbergasted, he had known her for years and in all that time she had never refused.

''I am saying no this time.'' Y/N chuckled, their faces too funny not to laugh at.

''Even the girls are coming,'' Lando said, referring to their girlfriends, ''you can say no to us, but you surely can't say no to them.'' He tried convincing her, knowing about her soft spot for their girls.

Y/N loudly sighed, glancing away for a moment. ''I already told Lily I wasn't coming so that won't be a problem.''

''She didn't tell me that.'' Alex argued, almost offended by his girlfriend not informing him.

The young woman glimpsed at him, a smirk on her face. ''Well, there are many things she doesn't tell you that she tells me, Albono.'' She ended her sentence with a wink to the Williams driver.

Her comment had temporarily taken the focus off of her dismissal to party as the drivers laughed and poked some fun at Alex, but Charles wouldn't let her get away with it just yet. ''But what are those other plans you have, Y/N?''

''I just have better things to do, guys.'' She said, making an advance to leave the paddock and go home for the day.

''Like what?'' Max asked, puzzled by her vague answer.

''I don't know, my friend didn't say his name.'' She grinned from ear-to-ear, quickly waving them goodbye before they could stop her and tease her for going on a blind date with someone.

Y/N could hear the commotion they made as she walked away, secretly smiling to herself. ''I can't believe she's dumping us for some guy.'' She swore it was Lando who said it.

Walking into the driver's briefing the next day hadn't been like the usual days. Normally, she walked in, greeted everyone and sat down on a random chair. However this time, it went a little different.

Y/N walked into the room and greeted everyone, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of a symphony of excited and dismissed greetings back, she was met with smirks and chuckles from her fellow drivers.

''What is it?'' She asked them, not sitting down before she had an answer.

Yet, they continued acting like teenagers and giggled amongst themselves, not giving her an explanation for their weird behaviour.

Daniel was the first one to have mercy on her and spoke up. ''You had fun last night?'' The raised eyebrow didn't go unnoticed, the Australian referring to her blind date from the night before that the other must have informed the entire grid about before she arrived.

''It was alright.'' She merely said, finally sitting down on the chair next to Lewis who didn't seem to be very invested as he typed something on his phone.

''Just alright? Cause it seems like you were busy.'' Lando continued the teasing, weirdly putting his hand on the side of his neck.

Y/N frowned at his action. ''I have no idea what you're talking about and stop acting like an idiot.'' She awkwardly chuckled, unnerved by everything.

''You're the only clueless idiot in the room right now, I'm afraid.'' George commented, smiling a bit too bright in her opinion.

''I'm totally confused.'' She let out, not hiding her confusion any longer.

Lewis scratched his voice, not taking his eyes off his phone. ''We can see the hickey on your neck.'' He revealed to her, matter-of-factly.

Y/N's eyes widened, immediately hiding her neck into her sweater while she could feel her head heating up due to embarrassment. ''I just walked past all the reporters- oh my god!'' She exclaimed, angry at herself for giving them any kind of news they could gossip about.

''I'm so happy it's not me this time.'' Lando laughed, victoriously throwing his hands in the air.

''You're the victim of the week, kiddo.'' Valtteri ruffled her hair, sitting on the chair behind her and his former teammate. She weakly smiled at him, mortified at what her team's press officer was going to say about this.

A figure taking the space on the other side of her brought the woman out of her thoughts, glancing beside her, she found Mick's comforting smile. ''Don't listen to them,'' he whispered, ''so, tell me about it! Is he a nice guy?'' Mick couldn't help but be curious, they have been good friends for years.

Y/N snorted, quickly covering her mouth. ''I don't know, there wasn't much talking, to be honest.''

''Okay, gross.''

taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis

@champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads @mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1

[awkward-imaginations]

| First Impressions |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. Intrigued by how close you and Kenma seemed, Kuroo asked about you on their walk home. Kenma described you as a fellow gamer and new student at Nekoma High. Kuroo's curiosity grew so he decided to introduce himself.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff (maybe suggestive?), slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, lmao). If you find any mistakes, you can keep them.

word count: 1784

masterlist | next chapter

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he walked past your classroom. You were sitting across from Kenma at his table, happily chatting and playing on some sort of portable console. Your laughter was soft but infectious, causing Kenma to occasionally glance up from his game with a rare smile.

"She must be the new student Kenma was talking about," Kuroo thought as he paused to watch for a moment. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. Kenma didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had transferred to Nekoma High in the second year because your father had a new job, prompting your family to move to Tokyo. He also knew you liked video games and were a bit of a recluse at times. However, discovering you were a pretty girl was news to him.

Naturally, he brought it up with Kenma on their way home. “So, why didn’t you tell me your new classmate is a girl?” Kuroo asked, intrigued. Kenma looked at him, puzzled. “Does it matter? Besides, I had a feeling you'd be annoying about it.” Kuroo feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. “What? Me? Annoying?!” Kenma rolled his eyes. “You're exaggerating.” Kuroo couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, you think so?”

They continued walking but were suddenly startled by the sound of a ringing bell. Kuroo turned around to see you riding past them on a bicycle. “See you tomorrow, Kenma!” you called out with a beaming smile, waving to him. Kenma raised his hand briefly and nodded. “See you tomorrow,” he said quietly in return.

Kuroo watched you with growing curiosity as you rode away. He couldn’t help but stare a bit. Your hair blew gently in the wind, and you seemed to be in your own little bubble of happiness.

“Looks like she’s really nice,” he remarked, still looking after you. Kenma shrugged. “Yeah, she’s all right. Someone who loves games as much as she does can’t be too bad.” Kuroo grinned mischievously. “Oh, is that so? Maybe I should talk to her sometime.” Kenma sighed. “Do what you want but remember she’s new. She might need some time to adjust to everything.” Kuroo nodded with a smirk. “Sure, I’ll be nice.”

 “Ah, not too hot and not too cold,” you said as you sank down next to Kenma on the bench outside the next day. He grinned and held out a bottle of green iced tea from the vending machine. “Yeah.” You thanked him and took a sip before returning to your Chemistry Book. “I really don't know why you're still doing school stuff during break,” Kenma remarked, switching on his console. “My dad bagged my PSP last night because I was playing for too long. Sorry, dad, but time travel is basically cheating, and I didn't want to miss an event.” Kenma had to stifle his laughter while you looked at him with an offended pout.

For a while, you sat next to each other in silence, reading, playing and occasionally taking a sip of iced tea. After a few minutes, the conversations in the schoolyard became a vague background noise. The letters blurred before your eyes as you began to lose yourself in your thoughts. Since the end of school yesterday, you couldn't stop thinking about the student Kenma shared the walk home with. Even in the brief moment you passed the two of them, you realized how incredibly familiar they seemed with each other (an how attractive Kenmas friend was), why didn't they spend time together during breaks? Was Kenma just hanging out with you out of pity because you were the new girl?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further into a negative direction, they were interrupted by Kenma's voice. “Is everything alright?” You turned your head directly in his direction, his gaze fixed on the screen of his PSP. He noticed you not saying anything and continued, “I haven't heard you turn a page for a while and thought you might need some help.“ You blinked a few times into space. “Um, yeah. No. Actually... I must've spaced out; I wasn't really thinking about anything.” Except your cute friend. Disbelieving, Kenma looked up from his console briefly. You felt your cheeks heat up at the lie you just told and quickly returned to staring at your book, which you lifted a little to hide your face. “Right,” Kenma finally said and returned to his game.

Not sharing your thoughts just caused them to stir up in your head again. You felt the need to express them verbally, otherwise you wouldn't be able to concentrate all day. But before you could breathe in enough air (and courage) to ask Kenma about his friend, he came running towards you, grinning broadly. “Oy, Kenma, why haven't you introduced me to your new friend yet?”

While Kenma didn’t seem bothered to look up from his game at all, you turned your gaze to Kuroo. Your eyes met for a second, but before he could say anything else when he came to a halt in front of you, Kenma sighed and answered, “Because you spend way too much time on your university prep courses, nerd.” Kuroo gripped the back of his neck with one hand and put on an apologetic look before shifting his attention back to you, “I’m Kuroo Tetsuro,” he said his voice deep and smooth.

You noticed that your heart was beating a little faster and for an uncomfortably long second you couldn't get a sensible sentence together in your head. “I'm L/N Y/N, nice to meet you”, you finally brought forth, still looking at him. Your first impression wasn't wrong, he looked really good. Tall, broad shoulders with an athletic posture, dark, messy hair with piercing eyes. Had Kenma really just called him a nerd? Him?

Kuroo's smile widened as he noticed your lingering gaze. “Likewise. I’ve heard you’re quite the gamer,” he said, trying to keep the conversation light. You shrugged. “I dabble. Although my father has just banned me from it so that I can concentrate better on school.” 

“Ah, I see,” Kuroo remarked. “No wonder you two befriended each other rather quickly.” Kenma, still focused on his game, muttered, “Yes, but now Y/N reads boring text books during breaks and I have to take on the bosses alone.“ You laughed nervously, the sound drawing Kuroo’s attention even more. “I'm sure I'll get my PSP back soon if I get better grades this school year”, you said, your confidence evident.

„If it’s nothing else, maybe I can help you with that?“ Kuroo asked, leaning in a little further towards you. It was then you noticed his uniform, which he wore in a laid-back, effortless style. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and his sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows. He had even ditched the blazer altogether, giving him a relaxed and approachable look. Your face must’ve given away, that you had no idea what he was getting at.

“By tutoring, of course,” Kuroo added with a playful smile, leaning back slightly as if to give you some space again to process his offer. You blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. “You would help me with my studies?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “Of course,” Kuroo replied smoothly. “Anything to help a friend of Kenma's.“

Kenma, still immersed in his game, shot Kuroo a quick, knowing glance but didn’t comment. You looked at Kenma, seeking some sort of silent approval or encouragement, but he remained focused on his screen. “Um, that would be great, actually,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips. “I could definitely use some help with chemistry.”

“Perfect,” Kuroo said, his grin widening. “We can start tomorrow after school, if that works for you.”

“Sure, that sounds good,” you agreed, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement. “Thank you, Kuroo.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, waving off your thanks. “I’ll make sure you get your PSP back in no time.”

Kenma finally looked up from his game, giving you both a thoughtful look. “Just don’t let him distract you too much,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’ll try my best.”

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the break, you gathered your things and stood up. Kuroo and Kenma followed suit, and the three of you started walking back to the school building together.

“By the way,” Kuroo said, falling into step beside you, “have you joined any clubs yet?” You shook your head. “Not yet. I’m still getting settled in and figuring out what I want to do. Why are you asking? Did you want to advertise yours?“ Kuroo noticed your teasing tone, but ignored it for now. “No, well, maybe a little. I’m the captain of the volleyball team. You should come watch us practice sometime.“

You hesitated for a moment, you knew volleyball from you friends at you former highschool, but their team wasn’t very good. To be precise, "good" was never a word you would think of in connection with their team to begin with. That's why the sport has remained uninteresting to you so far but the idea of watching Kuroo during practice was too tempting to resist. The thought of seeing him a little sweaty and worn out from training made your heart race. You could already picture his shirt clinging to his toned body, hair damp and falling into his eyes. The image made your cheeks heat up, but you quickly pushed the thought away, trying to stay focused on the conversation.

You nodded frantically. “Sounds interesting. Maybe I will check out your team.” Kuroo looked at you, smiling, he porbably noticed your little mental excursion. “Great! From next week on we practice after school every day. Just drop by the gym anytime.”

“Just be prepared for Kuroo to show off,” Kenma added and Kuroo chuckled. “I don’t show off, Kenma. I demonstrate. There’s a difference.”

As you reached your classroom, Kenma turned to Kuroo. “See you after school?”

“Yeah, see you,” he said, giving both of you a small wave before he added with a wink, „Ah, Y/N-Chan! Don’t forget about our study date tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you promised, watching him go with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. As you settled back into your seat, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe there was also a good side to your father taking your console.

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱? ⦒ ✶.*

pairing(s): ethan winters x afab gn reader synopsis: ethan can't sleep again. as his doting partner, you reach under the sheets, giving him temporary solace to his nightmares at the village. content: smut 18+ only mdni, soft dom ethan, hand & finger kink, sensual, oral (m! receiving), deepthroat, finger fucking, body worship, pet names, hurt/comfort, events in re8, mentions of trauma, nightmares, scars, stitches & prosthetics. a/n 2: please check out my friend @emilzke's ethan winters x reader work called 'rebuilding' which i absolutely love (she got shadowba-nned so give her some love thanks!) a/n: belated birthday gift to @obsolescent, one of my favourite people on this app! sorry this took so long! ! even if its not your bday anymore, hope you still had a good night lovely! enjoy! also inspired by this art of ethan. « 2.2 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

It all started from a little small talk, quiet reassurances of ‘how was your day’ shared intimately under the privacy of the moonlight and each other’s eyes until both of you drift into slumber. The bed, in which you rest together when night falls. Two bedside tables, lived in, and for a moment, a sense of normality has returned.

Ethan was restless in his sleep—a side effect from full-day’s work of software debugs and upgrades that he maintains on the daily. Or perhaps, something more. Something that happened in the village that he spends every minute trying to forget. And despite the passing of seasons, the memory lingers like persistent heat.

His hand fidgets under the covers, shifting fingers up and down in desperation to find yours, as if you might disappear, kidnapped by the shadows of his nightmares and he’s back there again, finding missing flasks, patching you together piece by piece like a detached puzzle. But what he’s actually looking for are parts of himself, that seem to still sit underneath the crumble and debris of the buried village.

“R-Ro…” Ethan’s voice hitches out—frantic, weak.

Through muffled strings of your sleepy breath, you rummage under the sheets to find his hand.

“My dear… It’s me. I’m here.” You turn around to lean into the column between his neck and shoulders, made perfect for you. The moment your hands meet, Ethan clasps them tightly, before relieving, loosening in your reassurance. “You’re okay now. Rose is okay.”

Ethan’s eyes open lightly and just like you promised, Rose is in the cot by your side, gentle baby's breath floating through the air. He brings you closer to his chest, just to nestle into your warmth as he peppers kisses on the crown of your head.

“Did you sleep?” You coo, hands running up his naked torso just to feel them against you.

“A little. I’ll go back to sleep soon. Just need a second.” His chest heaves in front of you, and from what you know about Ethan, his quickened heartbeat will only take a while for him to calm down.

You look up to see him, and find that his eyes are wide awake, simply staring at the ceiling, as if counting sheep to hypnotise him back to sleep. Through lidded eyes, Ethan sees you; and smiles at how you look. His hands move unthinkingly, bringing them to your face before he even realises he’s caressing it, sending a gentle shiver of warmth through your spine.

“Ah.” Ethan puts his hand in the air to stop him, chuckling bashfully. “Sorry for keeping you up. Get some sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

“I’m awake now.” You grumble, catching his hand in the air back to your face, like a toy stolen from a child. You press his hand on your cheek, keeping him there, which Ethan has no problems with.

His hands are different now, you thought as you run your fingers down his hand, feeling every stitch, bump, and rough texture that ran along the back of his palms before hitting you with the cold knuckle of his metal prosthetic fingers along where his ring and pinky finger should have been.

What used to be the compliment getter for Ethan, through the bruise and burns had lost its natural shine, not even his superhuman healing speed is immune to the scars. But to you, the rugginess simply enhances his beauty. Stitches tracing like a map to a treasure, red patches of scar like cherry kisses gracing along the soft plush of his palms. You love it all.

Those are proof of Ethan's survival—That was all you wanted. To hear and feel his presence in the mundane. Side by side with the man you love. But to him, he lost something that day. A part of his soul ripped apart, still underneath the crumble and debris of that buried village.

“Do you need help sleeping?” Your half-lidded eyes can’t obscure your devilish glint in your eyes, hand rustling underneath the sheet, obscure him from the view of what you’re about to do to him. His eyes meet yours, staring right back in disbelief, but simultaneously unable to resist what you have to offer for him in this quiet night.

“Now?” He seems to be genuinely considering the idea. “What if Rose wakes up?”

“She won't if you keep quiet.” You bring his hand to your lips to pepper kisses on his hands, slowing as you’re licking the length of each finger. The pain goes away, replaced by lust, but only ever so slightly.

“Can you do that for me?” You pause, waiting for his answer, and he nods surely. “Good boy.”

Wasting no time to help to get comfortable, you dive your head under the covers just to resurface as a lump under the sheet. Ethan clears his throat in anticipation as you tuck your fingers into boxers, removing just enough for his cock to spring up and meet you in the face.

You run your tongue at the tip of his crest, swirling in small circles to tease his precum out of him, in which he squirms, pushing in his legs slightly before relaxing. It was difficult to see where you are in the darkness of the sheets, but you make do, finding where his crest meets his shaft and following it down the rest of his dick to find the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

When his cock is wet enough to your liking, you meet his tip with the soft seam of your lips, taking his length inch and inch at a time as you tongue around his hardening cock. A low grunt escapes his lips, and you can hear his thoughts fading him as you play with him some more.

He places his hand on your head, blood surging down his body, not quite wanting to hurt you, or accidentally snag on your hair to make it painful.

That’s who your husband is, even when he’s enjoying, he would never want to hurt you. Or at least tries not to.

“O-Oh... m’ god, so fuckin’ goo- Nnh.” That is your cue to move in deeper, hopefully to catch him between words and leave him hitching his breath as you finish him under your nose. Your tongue clashes against his dick that only fills your mouth, eventually leaving no room for your tongue to explore him. The bobs of your head become more messy and difficult, and his whimpers only make you even more excited.

“L-Let m’ see you, babe.” Ethan stifles the words out, lifting the covers up, and you’re embraced by the light of the bedside lamp. A glimpse of Ethan’s silhouette and his round beady eyes staring right into your position that exposes you and the hunger you have for him.

With you now able to see, you catch how his eyes snap shut, brows twist in, feeling every single pulse climbing through his body. His hand that rests on your head grows tighter, one that is neither rough or gentle, just a reassurance and consolance of what you are going through. You feel yourself pooling from how lewd it all sounds.

“Fuck, how did I get married to someone like you?” Ethan whines, bumping his head into the headboard behind with a light thump, but he doesn’t care. You are right in front of him, and he’s taking in the sight of you in with every glimpse of attention he can offer.

The tip of the dick is at the back of your throat. Only now you feel the gag reflex—but you shut your eyes tightly, holding in a little longer until the feeling surely goes away. This is when you feel his hips jerk up against you, thighs widening to welcome you as he whimpers bitten pieces of your name until his spine shakes from the fervour of affection you have been pouring into him.

“G-Get off… I’m fuckin’ gon-gonna…” Ethan’s raspy groan erupts through the room, melodious to you, as his hand struggles to push you off, made weak for any movement from how your skilled lips have treated him.

Ethan falls back to the sheets, with one final grunt, unloads himself directly onto your tongue. And you accept, letting your sore jawline hang wide to receive the fruits of your labour. His hand untenses from your head, abandon to the side of him in order to recollect his thoughts.

You reach over the bedside table to retrieve the tissue box in order to spit out his cum for disposal. You roll back to your side of the bed, checking at Rose's slumber, and when you did you bring the sheets upwards, preparing for your sleep.

“Good night, Ethan.” Are your final words creeping a yawn before turning the lamp off.

Ethan pauses to catch his breath for a moment, then wraps his hands around you, coaxing warm kisses into your neck: “How’d you expect I sleep without tasting you first?”

“I’m on morning shift tomorrow. Need my eight hours.”

“You sure?” There it was. That sweet voice lined with a hint of mischievous tone. The one you can’t resist.

“I’m very sure.” You don’t hesitate, because you know it will give yourself an opening.

He runs his hand up your belly, slightly exposed from your lifted shirt, pressing strokes that almost feels like a massage. Ethan seems to know where to touch you every time to untense you. “By the time I’m done, you’ll sleep like a baby.”

You can be convinced. You can be convinced very much. Especially with how he reaches down to tease you, and knows how your body betrays mind, with how you have wet a patch in your underwear.

“Not very honest, aren’t you?” Ethan lets out an amused grin, as if returning the favour of what you’ve done to him at his barely awake state. “You’ll still get your eight hours. I’ll make you come in five minutes. Guarantee it.”

You roll your eyes and wave at him to go ahead, but secretly, your clit is pulsing at his forwardness, increasingly eager to let him please you. In which Ethan helps himself, running a teasing finger up the length of your cunt just to stop at your clit, swirling lazy circles which only earn a groan from you that Ethan has been desperate to hear all night.

“Etha-an… Hnng… B-Babe…” The feeling run into your veins, growing in need, knotting itself low in your stomach. He delivers as he promises with only his nimble fingers, through slick and slurp, explores the depths of you, finding the spot you desire with skilful ease. You let out a soft moan, closing your eyes to feel him filling you with his fingers alone, and encourages him to continue.

He spreads you, adding his second finger now, the cold metal of his ring finger, lacing them on the length of your cunt with practiced ease. The contrast between cold and warm only excites you more. Ethan dotes on your sweet voice, slipping the two curled fingers in and out through a perfect angle that pushes a muffled groan between clenched teeth.

“God, baby.” He takes that as a sign to continue faster and harder, jamming his fingers until the sound of your slick permeates the air, every muscle clenching at him. “You like it when my finger fucks you, huh?”

You let the sensation continue, allow yourself to completely give away control to the man you love. Let him take care of you, like you always do to him. Ethan is merely returning the favour. A slight pain enters through his sensitive finger that still aches from a past wound, in which he winces, and you catch on almost immediately.

“Y-Your hand…”

“Shh… Just be quiet and feel good.” He smiles, not intending to stop anytime soon. Ethan quickens his pace, before you start squeezing into his fingers, demanding urgency, speed through how your thighs close in, as if that would allow more friction on your naked skin.

You open your eyes now, and all you see is sincerity in his eyes, fixed upon you this whole time to make sure you are indeed enjoying what he’s doing to you. And somehow, that is the one action that tips you over the edge, rippling high moans through the back of your throat as you chase your own high directly between his fingers.

“Wow.” Ethan whistles, a bemused grin hanging by his lips as he feels your juices release, spilling on his fingers. “You came so much.”

Ethan brings his fingers up his lips, admiring his handiwork, dripped in your sweet juices, before putting them into his mouth. He runs his tongue around the sides of his slender fingers, savouring every part of his reward.

“Heh. Told you I just need five minutes.”

“That was ten minutes, Mr. Winters.”

“Maybe I can beat my record?” Ethan winks, quite terribly, frankly, and despite how his silly charms would normally convince you, this time, you are functioning with five hours of sleep.

“Don’t even try, Ethan.” He shrugs, slightly defeated, as he joins you into the cosy embrace of your shared bed.

...

“In the morning?”

“Are you serious right now, Ethan?”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. god i'm so feral for him, every night i'm plagued by the thoughts of ethan cradling me to sleep and whispering into my ear (yes this is a marriage proposal). tags: @valsthea @httpsuguru @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[beababoobies]

Oh, oh! I love him this snake boy so much! May I request a sort of part two to Somethin’ Stupid where it fouces on their relationship afterwards?

Pentious getting the love he deserves? Yes. Absolutely. I’m on it. You got it boss, we love the silly snake boy!

Somethin’ Stupid - Part 2.

part one here! Sir Pentious x Reader. words : 1k.

Ever since that night - full of tears and embraces, kisses, and even some discovers of more of a certain body part than you had expected - your life at the hotel at flipped. It went from dejected rehabilitation as your complete last resort to something out of one of those stupid teen romance books you read when you were still alive. 

Your days were still spent trying to get into Heaven, sure. You still had to do all the motions of rehabilitation, you still had to get up early and deal with Angel and Husks’ bickering, your favourite wall being consistently blown up, and Charlies’ occasional toxic positivity breakdowns where you were worked out of your mind. But you did it hand in hand with your anxious, yet charming serpent boyfriend. 

You spent your nights cuddled up against him, you had even given up your room to share one with him. You had also learned that he could shed. Not your favourite thing about it, to put it nicely, but you accepted every part of your little ball of insecurity. Because he was your little ball of insecurity. And he made you feel like the prettiest sinner in every ring of hell. 

He would bring you flowers, compliment you at any chance you wanted. He was good in bed - though that was just a bonus. He listened patiently, and he gave you your space. And now that you could actually get close to him, you discovered that not only was he adorable, he was also your new best friend. Your personalities fit together like a puzzle piece.

And here you were, thinking all this, cuddled up against him with him gently holding you to his chest, listening to him go on about his old rivalry and big fights. His egg boys - who were practically now your egg boys as well, and you loved them dearly. He started on about how he admired you for so long. This, you wouldn’t mind listening to. 

“I thought you were the mosssst beautiful a ssssinner could be.” He says with a soft sigh, hand rubbing small anxious circles into your back. “Thought you had to be an Angel, becausssse I didn’t know ssssinnerssss could be that angelic.” He hums out, pressings a kiss to the top of your head, cuddling up against you, feeling content. He looked the most relaxed in the past weeks than you’d ever seen him. 

“You were very.. oddly charming.” You day with a small giggle, looking up to see him all pouty and confused, making the smile on your face grow wider as you try not to laugh at his expense. “You’re clumsy, and anxious but.. you don’t try to hide it behind anger.” You say as you lean up and peck his cheek, watching his face grow red. You sigh contently. “You’re so unforgivably vulnerable and that’s why I love you so hard.” 

He melts at your words, bottom lip trembling and you giggle, nuzzling your cheek against his before noticing his state, tears forming in his eyes as he tries to hold back tears. “Are you about to cry?” You say with a small giggle, gently holding his face in you palm, sighing softly. “‘S okay baby, you can cry around me.” You say with a genuinely smile.

He bursts out into a half-sob half-rant about how lucky he is to have you, how he doesn’t even believe you’re real because you’re so pretty. You listen to it with a big smile and it gets so sweet you even feel tears forming in your eyes, using your thumbs to wipe the tears away from the face of the man you love oh so much. 

“I jusssst - jussst love being around you. Can’t believe i’m with you. That you l- like me! Me! I feel like I ssshould be calling up my mom, telling her I made it.” He says between sobs and sniffles, and all you can do is nod along with his words. Sighing softly as you watch him pour out all his loving emotions to you. “I ssstood there for monthsss, thinking I don’t have a chance. Sssshouldn’t even talk to you. But I don’t even want redemption now. I have my Heaven right here..” he mumbles out the last part, looking up at you with those teary eyes, hiccuping softly.

“I think Heaven might suit you a lot better, though.” You say sweetly, gently leaning down to press another kiss to his other, now tear-soaked cheek. “Think they need someone as kind as you up there.” You say reassuringly, watching him shake his head, making you smile. “Don’t want redemption. I have you.” He says again, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Y-you know.” He starts, raising one of his hands to cup at your cheek, and so you take one of your hands from his face and cradle it against his gentle and loving touch, raising your eyebrows. “I know?” You question with a smile, watching him smile. 

“I’m glad I went and ssssaid ssssomethin’ ssstupid like….” He pauses, realizing he hasn’t said it since, piercing his lips together as he realizes the awkward situation he’s put himself in. You chuckle softly and squeeze his hand, getting his attention back on you.

“I love you?” You question, ending his statement for him. You watch as he lights up all over again, eyes still wet with tears, agreeing to your statement with a kiss, before pulling away. He nods again. 

“I love you.”