#i hope this isn't offensive to ask
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random-stuff-doo-bop · 1 year ago
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Genuine question, is fionna and cake transphobic? I’ve seen people talking about how gender-bends like this are transphobic but a lot of people don’t seem to have a problem with fionna and cake so idk what to make of the show.
Feel free to ignore this if it's a bad/offensive question but yeah if any people (specifically other trans people) have any thoughts on this, I would appreciate hearing them, bc I don’t want to support this show if it’s pushing harmful stereotypes or something. But I also don’t want to like. make a big deal out of this if I’m overthinking it. Idk, I'm just confused
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spirk-trek · 6 months ago
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Your tags on the snw post... You're right and you should say it!!!
With all the shit I've seen about it online was really surprised how much I actually liked snw, it's really a solid show. Yeah the chapel/spock romance is questionable but they did so many things right and really captured the spirit of the TOS (it being a good mix of serious and whimsical)
yes!!! so much whimsy!!!
i actually feel guilty about not voicing my compliments as loudly as my complaints. i'd hate to be the reason someone doesn't at least give it a chance. i think i'll make a post about some of the parallels to tos that i thought were particularly clever/well done before season three comes out :) also, the new characters are great!
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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 8 months ago
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I have a question for my autistic mutuals. What's something you'd like to see in more autistic characters? As in: what autistic traits do you feel like never get represented? And, if you'd like to share, what's something you wish people would stop doing with autistic characters? Or maybe an autistic trait you feel like gets misrepresented a lot?
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chaosisdying · 10 months ago
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I have the urge to use the third person for me sometimes, but I'm scared to do that irl because it's weird (nothing wrong with weirdness, I love it personally lol), so people (my family mostly) will belittle me and treat me like a kid,, I mean they already do but... I don't wanna be treated like that more...... it feels ugh... very bad 😔
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loveisurvival · 1 year ago
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saw one of your reblogs and i'm not sure if you know (i was really upset after knowing this) that sakura is actually white. she's as tan as she is because of her training. the only poc character in danganronpa is angie.
please if there is a god out there do not fucking let this start discourse in my inbox or comment section or reblogs or anything. please. please I'm begging you. that being said
I already knew that she's normally pale and that her training gives her a tan, but it still just rubs me the wrong way when she's drawn as pale even tho she's still drawn as buff? if that makes sense. sorry I have the worst speaking skills in this entire world
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meowmeowmessi · 2 years ago
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https://twitter.com/BarcaTimes/status/1627562485950586881 this shit again, wallahi romero is such a weirdo 😭😭. i bet he's taking credit for the extention not being signed yet as if leo waiting to see how the ucl pans out wasn't always a given?? like he wants to win the ucl, it makes sense???? some people tried to be like "oh you can't say he's wrong bc he only talked about the extention, not messi going to barca" but first of all yes he did, second, he's doing it again now lol. this man has zero access to and no relationship with messi and he's talking about what leo's supposedly saying to his entourage???? and some people are even blaming kun saying he's telling romero stuff just bc they do business together ���. it baffles me how its the exact same pattern of catalan outlets or even laporta himself "reporting" on a messi return just to end up making him look bad and like he's turning barca down and people still buy into it. if he truly wants to go back and laporta grovels for it (a personal request) then good for him but romero??? drunk twitch streamer on laporta's payroll quit speaking on the world champion challenge 😐
gerard romero my detested oh my godddd
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i swear the culers who are desperate to have messi back choose to turn a blind eye to the fact that he's infamous for being laporta's lapdog just bc it suits their agenda. i don't think i have much to say regarding this entire transfer saga bc you've succinctly explained everything already, but might i just mention what a fucking clown romero is? i didn't see his interview with araujo myself but i saw twt posts about it, and the fact that he tried to bait the kid into saying something potentially offensive about vinicius (obviously for the clicks) by showing him memes instead of asking him, you know, actually relevant questions is so telling. araujo literally sat there like 😐 you could tell he was feeling like he'd been put on the spot (but thankfully he handled romero's prodding with grace). what's wild to me is how culers were getting a laugh out of it too like bro what happened to shame 😭 i swear these people get the kind of "journalists" they deserve actually
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amirasainz · 1 month ago
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Could you make younger girlfriend x Lewis Hamilton. Maybe there are some rumours and then she visits the paddock with Lewis. The wags and drivers aren't to sure about this at first, but in the end see how happy the couple is. I know this isn't what you usually write, but it is my birthday today and it would make me ver happy. 🤭💗☺️
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💜
Love has no age
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The first time Yn had stepped into the paddock as Lewis’s official girlfriend, the buzz had been deafening. Rumors had swirled for weeks about Lewis dating someone new, and when the truth finally came out, it was all anyone could talk about.
“Did you see her? She’s so young!”
“Twenty? Isn’t there, like, a fifteen-year age gap?”
“What do they even talk about?”
Yn had tried her best to block out the whispers, clinging to Lewis’s hand as he guided her through the chaos. He’d been her rock, as always, his calming presence grounding her in the midst of all the speculation.
“They’ll come around,” Lewis whispered in her ear as they walked to his garage. “They just don’t know you yet.”
---
Yn hadn’t expected her first encounter with the other WAGs to feel so…awkward. She sat at the hospitality table, surrounded by the glamorous women who had known each other for years. They were friendly, of course, but Yn could sense their hesitation. She was the youngest by a mile, and the age gap between her and Lewis hadn’t escaped their notice.
“So, Yn,” Carmen began with a polite smile, “how are you finding the paddock life?”
Yn straightened in her chair. “It’s exciting! A bit overwhelming, but everyone’s been so welcoming.”
“Everyone?” Kelly raised an eyebrow, her tone light but pointed. “The media hasn’t exactly been kind.”
Yn hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Rebecca jumped in. “The media is never kind. Trust me, you’ll get used to it.” She offered Yn a warm smile, her hand briefly brushing against Yn’s arm in a reassuring gesture.
“Thanks,” Yn said, her voice soft but grateful. She appreciated Rebecca’s kindness, even if she still felt like an outsider.
Carmen leaned in, placing a gentle hand on Yn’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re here. Really.”
Yn’s heart swelled at the gesture, and for the first time that day, she felt like she might actually belong.
---
By the end of the day, Yn found herself laughing with Rebecca and Carmen like they’d known each other for years. The initial awkwardness had melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie. Carmen had an arm draped around Yn’s shoulders as they walked through the paddock, while Rebecca kept a hand on Yn’s waist, guiding her through the crowd.
“You’re stuck with us now,” Rebecca teased. “Hope you’re ready.”
“I think I can handle it,” Yn replied with a grin.
Alexandra watched them from a distance, her jaw tight. It wasn’t that she disliked Yn—she just didn’t understand how someone so young and seemingly perfect could fit in so effortlessly. The other WAGs adored her, the fans couldn’t get enough of her, and even the drivers were charmed by her sweet demeanor.
---
“Yn!” Lando called out as he approached the group, a wide smile on his face. “Finally, someone who makes me feel less like a baby here.”
Yn laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “Glad I could help.”
“She’s not that young,” Lewis interjected, stepping up behind Yn and wrapping an arm around her waist. His tone was playful, but there was a protective edge to it.
Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no offense! I think it’s great. You two look happy.”
“We are,” Lewis said firmly, pressing a kiss to Yn’s temple.
The other drivers gradually joined the conversation, each of them making an effort to include Yn. Oscar cracked jokes that had her in stitches, while Charles teased her about her taste in music after overhearing her playlist. Even Max, who was usually reserved, made a point to ask her how she was finding everything.
“They like you,” Lewis whispered later as they walked back to his motorhome.
Yn looked up at him, her eyes shining. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. “But even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. All that matters is us.”
---
Despite the initial skepticism, it didn’t take long for Yn to win over the entire paddock. Her kindness and genuine nature were impossible to ignore, and soon, she was at the center of every conversation. The fans adored her, flooding social media with messages of support and admiration.
“She’s like a ray of sunshine,” one fan tweeted.
“No wonder Lewis is so smitten,” another wrote. “They’re perfect together.”
The attention didn’t go unnoticed by Alexandra and Kelly. Alexandra couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy every time she saw Yn surrounded by people who seemed to worship her. Kelly, on the other hand, was struggling with the fact that Yn’s presence had overshadowed her pregnancy.
“I don’t get it,” Alexandra muttered to Kelly during a quiet moment in the paddock. “What’s so special about her?”
Kelly shrugged, though her expression was tight. “She’s nice, I guess.”
“Nice doesn’t make you the center of the universe,” Alexandra snapped. But even as she spoke, she knew her frustration was misplaced. Yn hadn’t done anything wrong—if anything, she’d gone out of her way to be kind to everyone.
---
Over time, even Alexandra and Kelly couldn’t resist Yn’s charm. During a group dinner, Yn had complimented Kelly on her outfit, sparking a conversation that lasted the entire evening. By the end of the night, Kelly was laughing along with Yn and the others, her earlier resentment forgotten.
As for Alexandra, it was a quiet moment during a race weekend that changed her perspective. She’d been feeling particularly stressed, and Yn had noticed, pulling her aside to ask if she was okay.
“No one’s ever asked me that,” Alexandra admitted, her voice soft.
“Well, someone should,” Yn replied. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. It’s only fair that someone looks out for you.”
Alexandra had been taken aback, but she couldn’t deny the warmth she felt in that moment. From then on, she made an effort to be kinder to Yn, and before long, they’d developed a tentative friendship.
---
Lewis couldn’t have been happier. He loved seeing Yn thrive in the paddock, surrounded by people who cared about her. But more than that, he loved Yn herself. She was everything he’d ever wanted—kind, intelligent, and full of life.
“You know you’re amazing, right?” he told her one evening as they sat on the couch in his motorhome.
Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I’m just me.”
“And that’s more than enough,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
Their love was obvious to anyone who saw them together. Lewis was always touching her in some way, whether it was a hand on her back, an arm around her shoulders, or a kiss on her forehead. He was protective but never overbearing, always making sure Yn felt safe and loved.
“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Valtteri told Lewis one day, nodding toward Yn, who was deep in conversation with Carmen and Rebecca.
“I know,” Lewis said, his voice full of affection. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
---
By the end of the season, Yn had become an integral part of the paddock family. She was no longer just “Lewis’s young girlfriend”—she was Yn, the girl everyone adored. The WAGs were her closest friends, and the drivers treated her like one of their own.
As for Lewis, he couldn’t have been prouder. Every time he looked at Yn, he was reminded of how lucky he was to have her in his life. And if anyone had doubts about their relationship at the start, they were long gone now. It was clear to everyone that what Yn and Lewis had was real.
Age was just a number. What mattered was the love they shared, and that was something no one could deny.
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jimilter · 3 months ago
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the ferrari guy | jjk.
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You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself. 
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pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note:  helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3
— masterlist | feedback!
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↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05
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On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns. 
Needless to say, he is beyond mad.
"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.
"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?" 
"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"
"Uh, yes, si—"
"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.
"She is hiring an assistant, sir."
"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"
Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."
Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO. 
There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so. 
Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"
"Sir, I—"
"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"
Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.
But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.
↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?
Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.
You heard that in the middle of the night?
He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.
I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)
His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.
Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.
God, he’s going insane.
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The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."
Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”
Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”
Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”
“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.
“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”
What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”
“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”
“Jovial?”
“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”
Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.
“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.
Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours. 
You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?
You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.
And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.
There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.
Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?
Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.
Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?
“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”
Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.
The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.
But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.
“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”
Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”
Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”
And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?
Awe?
He can't freaking tell.
“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”
Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips? 
When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”
Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale. 
Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?
Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.
“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”
Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”
Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.
This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?
And, in fact, why did he come here?
The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?
Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with. 
He wants to punch a wall.
What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.
He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.
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Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?
He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.
Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.
And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"
You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"
Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”
That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”
Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”
“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”
“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”
You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs. 
“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”
Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”
Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”
You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”
“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”
“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”
Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well. 
Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.
“You met him, didn’t you?”
His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”
You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”
Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.
And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.
“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”
He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.
But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.
"What?"
"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.
You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"
"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"
"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"
Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"
"What? What the hell did he do to you?"
He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"
You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"
"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"
You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."
He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"
"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"
He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.
You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."
Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.
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© jimilter | 2024
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changetyre · 5 months ago
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this ideia just came through my mind and now im obsessed with it
so its a lando X reader where she went with him to film chicken shop date and amelia notices how funny the reader is and starts to "flirt" with her too and the reader flirts back
all this situation make lando giggling a lot and amelia suggests to the 3 of the become a couple and the internet gets crazy lol idk
Picked the wrong date II Lando Norris x Reader Ⓢ
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SUMMARY: You convince Lando to accept the invite to chicken shop date telling him it would make a hilarious video knowing his shy and awkward personality. What neither of you expected was the connection between you and Amelia.
WARNINGS: none? it's short and not proofread.
A/N: This is definitely a request different from what I normally get so I was kind of just winging it;) still hope you enjoy it.
"Hey, it's so nice to meet you. Thank you for coming." Amelia walked over to greet Lando with a handshake.
"Likewise, and I'll be honest if it wasn't for this one I don't think I would've come." Lando laughed pointing back at you.
"Oh really?!" Amelia laughed as she greeted you with a hug. "Are you a fan of the show?" She asked you as she pulled away.
"Big fan, I'm obsessed with your videos, especially the ones with Finneas and Aitch." You replied honestly.
"oooh fun times." Amelia smiles awkwardly making you laugh.
"Go sit down baby." You nudged Lando as you saw someone waiting for him to get mic'd up.
"Right." Lando kissed your cheek then the back of your hand before finally letting go.
"Aww, how cute." Amelia stayed next to you as she was already prepped. "How long have you two been together." She asked.
"Just over two years." you blushed just thinking about your time with Lando thus far.
"Aww, well he's lucky to have you, you're stunning." Amelia complimented you.
"Isn't she just?" Lando smirked overhearing.
"Oh stop it you two are making me go red." You giggled walking over to an empty seat behind the cameras.
_________
"I know you followed me a long time ago and I didn't follow you back," Lando confessed.
"Wha-" Amelia feigned offense. "Yeah, that's true I was gonna bring that up"
"I was just playing hard to get." Lando laughed awkwardly making you smile at his awkwardness.
"Maybe you'll follow me back? Actually, I don-"
"I do actually follow you back now." Lando revealed.
"You do?" Amelia asked surprised.
"Well yeah but to be honest only because she made me." Lando pointed over to you.
"Hmm, maybe I should be on a date with her." Amelia joked making both you and Lando laugh.
"Maybe you should. She's great." Lando giggled.
"Hmm, why don't you give me your number after this?" Amelia asked you.
"Sure will baby." You played along.
"Ooo baby." Amelia giggled, twirling her hair at you jokingly all while Lando couldn't stop smiling.
"You stealing my girlfriend?" Lando joked.
"Hmm, we'll see by the end of this," Amelia said as she took a bite of a fry.
"Cool." Lando looked down laughing.
_
"I just looked at my calendar yesterday." Lando joked pretending he wasn't aware of this interview until yesterday.
"I've known about this for years, it's in my diary." Amelia said making Lando laugh.
"Oh yeah? Your personal diary? What did it say?" Lando asked.
"It said, date with Lando Norris secretly a plot to get with his girlfriend who is crazy beautiful and will be sitting out of frame but just in my line of view throughout the entire date." Amelia improvised all while you couldn't help but laughing.
"It said all of that?" Lando asked laughing too as he looked over at you to see you giggling along.
"Oh yeah." Amelia tried holding back her laugh too.
"Your plot is working honey." You commented.
"Yeah, I figured." Amelia nodded confidently.
_
"You know I've never been to a race." Amelia pointed out.
"You should come." Lando replied, and you could notice the honesty in the invite.
"I would love to," Amelia replied eagerly. "Maybe she can show me around while you're looking for the on button on your car." Amelia winked at you.
You couldn't hold back your laugh. "I'll show you anything you want." You flirted along.
"Anything?" Amelia raised her eyebrows suggestively.
You had to hold back a laugh to flirt along. "Anything." You reaffirmed.
"Woah some things are for my eyes only baby," Lando spoke to you trying to hold back a laugh.
"It could be for our eyes only Lando," Amelia suggested to Lando.
"hmm, I'll think about it." Lando played along able to control his laughter and pretending to think about it.
_
"I heard it's quite hot in there." Amelia continued.
"Yeah, it gets very hot," Lando confirmed. "Yeah, sweaty and-"
"Even hotter if I was in there," Amelia added.
Lando chuckled looking down shyly. "Even hotter if she was in there." Lando quickly recovered pointing over at you.
"Hmm true true." Amelia nodded corroborating.
_
"Can you drive?" Lando asked.
"Uhm-" Amelia hesitated.
"That's a no."
"Just a- we'll just move on." Amelia brushed past the question.
Lando silently sniggered. "It's okay y/n can't drive either."
"See you drive and y/n and I can be your passenger princesses." Amelia pointed out.
"Oh right so like a throuple situation or?" Lando asked.
"Uh well yeah I guess so I'm not sure I can get her without you so." Amelia shrugged.
"Right, that's settled then." Lando shrugged too as if concluding the plan.
Amelia looked around for a bit silently. "Sorry, I'm just imagining that happening and it's great." She smiled dreamily.
-
The rest of the date was similar, with jokes and awkward laughter, as well as flirting between you and Amelia and occasionally Lando.
You knew F1 fans would love this when it came out and there was no doubt they'd love the little added comments from your side.
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imsiriuslyreading · 1 month ago
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being a POC in the Marauders/HP fandom is really interesting to me because it seems and feels like a really predominantly white space, which, hey, nothing new! and that does come with some challenges. for the most part, they're fairly under the radar.
it's things like being able to count the POC in a discord server on one hand, even though there's 100+ people in the community.
it's people not taking into account racial dynamics whether that be in a fic, or in a tiktok, tumblr, whatever. there are innate power imbalances in our society (regardless of what country you live in) and to assume because this fandom is a largely open, liberal and leftist space, that they don't carry over to fandom, is exceptionally naive. buuuuut, we live and learn, so people can and should be given a certain amount of grace. but what is unforgivable is to have them pointed out to you and for you to dismiss, ignore or belittle them. Not only that, but you as a white person, do not get to be the forgiving voice to another white person when they make one of these mistakes. please please please respect and understand that.
there's also (and i'm sorry if this is controversial and frankly it makes me really nervous to even write this), a trend of assigning ethnicities, cultures and races to characters in stories without having a proper understanding of them, or having a particular reason for doing so. I'm never going to sit here and say "you as a white person shouldn't write about ____ race!", because I don't believe that. but what I would really, really love to see, is for white creators and writers to ask themselves some questions beforehand:
what does the race of this character add to the story outside of me chasing clout with a particular group of people/is it necessary for me to be writing the lived experience of a culture/ethnicity I've never taken the time to learn about?
if so, why?
am i the right person to be doing this?
are my actions outside of my writing towards these POC reflective of this?
i also think it's really important to remember that unconscious bias is a thing, and it's really easy for us to spot in your writing if it isn't something you've addressed. Not only that, but even if you write the most well-researched POC in your fic, even if you're sharing posts about Lebanon and Palestine, none of that matters if your actions when interacting with us show us that you are indifferent to the power dynamics at play with you being a white person, often with a large audience, in this space. virtue signalling is spectacularly unhelpful if you're writing checks your ass can't cash.
that being said, I think throwing 'racist' around as a term at people who make mistakes is really unhelpful. because every situation has context and nuance, and dogpiling never helps anybody. there are opportunities for learning, developing and understanding here. but please remember, if a POC tells you something is upsetting, harmful or offensive - even if other POC haven't said that to you - it's not your place as a white person to dismiss that.
anyway, hope that helps, love u very much xo
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erwinsvow · 9 months ago
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little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…
sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)
hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡
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in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.
that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.
you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.
it seemed easy enough for rafe though.
he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.
rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.
rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.
until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.
"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."
"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.
"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"
you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.
crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.
but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.
rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.
he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.
"wasn't feeling good. came home."
"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?
"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.
"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."
"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.
rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.
the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.
"you okay?"
"yeah. fine. you okay?"
if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.
"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.
"no, it was too short."
"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.
"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."
"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"
fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.
"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.
your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.
in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.
"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"
you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.
rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.
"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"
"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"
"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"
"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."
yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.
"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."
"rafe, i-"
"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.
"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.
"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."
"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."
"it's hard enough to be mean to you."
"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."
"no problem, kid."
"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.
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tbaluver · 6 months ago
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Hiii , can I ask for headcanons on how LaDs boys act around an introverted reader?
(´。• ᵕ •。) Hope you have a good day♡
When You're Introverted- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi anonnie ! i hope this was alright and you enjoy! have a good day/ night! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
He enjoys spending quiet quality time together with you. Whether it's your shared activities or your own favorite separate activities. Overall he just adores spending time with you. He would find activities for the two of you to do. He'll try to learn about the things you take pleasure in.
He'll help you with things you weren't comfortable doing. He's always ready to speak for you. If you were nervous to order your own food or if your order was wrong then he would happily talk to the waiter and do everything for you. If you wanted to do anything outgoing, then he would gladly help you get comfortable doing so. He'll be right by your side the entire time.
He did not mind you were an introvert. Sometimes you two would sit in comfortable silence when you didn't have anything to talk about it and he would enjoy it. He'll mostly just drift off into sleep but you didn't take any offense to that because you know how sleepy he can be.
Some of your dates includes late night strolls with him or anywhere that isn't crowded. One of your favorites is watching the stars in the park at night. It would be peaceful and quiet especially since there wouldn't be that many people around. He would just love you for you and treat you as his equal.
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Zayne:
As an introvert himself, he understood you pretty well. He doesn't mind it all either. When you're together, there's a peaceful, easy silence that feels just right. There's no pressure to talk between the two of you. Most of your dates are in quiet, less crowded places so you both can feel comfortable and relaxed.
Or if you don't want to go out in public then you both can spend time at home. He doesn't mind as long as he's with you. You both can spend the evening curled up on the couch reading something or watching a movie together while enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
He would probably be the one to initiate anything intimate like hand holding. He would ask if you were okay with it or if you were comfortable. He would slowly intertwine his fingers with yours and finds your flustered face adorable. A small smile would slowly appear on his face. Or small affections like kissing you at the top of your head or cheek until your more comfortable to do more.
Your talks can range to a lot of topics. He's one of the best listeners ever and he'll listen intently to anything you have to say. The space that you two make in the relationship is very safe and understanding. He appreciates your thoughtful insights and enjoys having conversations with you.
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Rafayel:
He has no problem if you were an introvert. He is patient to wait until you were comfortable around with him. He would start off by including you with activities or ask your opinions on things until the comfortable air starts to form between you two. He would respect your needs for space and alone time or if you needed to recharge your social battery.
At first it took you some time to open up to him but once you did, Rafayel was really happy about it. The misconceptions of introverts don't talk isn't true, it just depends on the right person so when talking with Rafayel it just seemed natural and it clicked. You can talk to him for hours and he was more than happy to listen and talk with you more. The times you would laugh at something, he would always comment that he loves hearing you laugh.
He loves that you're a great listener and he even enjoys quiet time together. While you do your own thing, he'll be right beside you painting or sketching while music is playing in the background.
He would invite you to his exhibitions and would stay by your side as he talks with the sponsors or directors. If you felt like you wanted to leave then he is more than happy to leave his own art exhibition with you and take you somewhere more quiet and peaceful. He'll deal with an upset Thomas later.
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Sylus:
He doesn't mind if you were introverted one bit. He finds it to be quite adorable at times.
When you were comfortable enough, he loves to listen to you talk about anything you were interested in. He loved hearing you talk about your passions and anything you wanted to talk about. He would also respect it if you wanted some alone time until you were ready to hang out again.
He would stick by you if he invited you to any big event. He knows you can start to get nervous with all the people around you so he would either have his hand on your back and stroke it softly to calm you down or he would hold your hand and give it a gentle squeeze for reassurance. He knows that you don't like having attention drawn to you so he will happily take the lead in any conversation you don't want.
If you two were at a restaurant and you didn't receive your order right, he'll handle it for you. He'll be the one to call the waiter and ask if they can bring you the right order. He'll also be the one to order your food and happily pay for the purchases himself.
He takes care of everything calmly. Especially when any scenario could happen or if you felt uncomfortable. He will ask if you want him to do something about it.
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pomefioredove · 9 months ago
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So idk if I'm requesting in the right place. But I would love a twst scenario with a yuu that just says all their intrusive thoughts. Like just out of NOWHERE, as they reach for a water bottle hanging out with the first years they go.
“I robbed a house back home”
Or when Azul tries cornering them with the twins for something they just blankly turn to Floyd going.
“duck off you look like you can't steer a shopping cart”
But feel free to do it with whoever you want and if you don't want to do mine that's perfectly fine and I hope you have a great day :)
certainly!!
summary: reader who speaks all their impulsive thoughts type of post: headcanons characters: heartslabyul, octavinelle, scarabia, diasomnia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral author's note: for some reason I had the hardest time thinking up new nonsense, so many of these dialogue lines are from lewis carroll poems, which I have a wonderful nostalgia for. check those out as well!
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Ace and Deuce are pretty much used to you saying whatever's at the top of your mind... with no filter
so used to it that it barely even registers with them anymore
whenever it's quiet, they can expect you to come out with some incomprehensible nonsense.
if you didn't, they'd probably ask what's wrong
"I robbed a house back home,"
"Yeah, okay,"
Riddle, on the other hand, gets frustrated alarmingly fast
despite running an entire dorm based on nonsensical rules, he has a low tolerance for outside nonsense
and... well, despite his name, he's not really a fan of riddles
Trey matches your energy immediately
no joke. he doesn't even bat an eye
"I eat plastic,"
"hm. sometimes I eat muffin wrappers,"
honestly, sometimes his tangents get even weirder than yours
Cater probably wasn't listening very closely when you first started going off, or maybe he's just become accustomed to riddles, though the next time you say something he just thinks it's cute
might use your "thoughtful anecdotes" as a caption for his next post
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would it be surprising if I were to say Azul is used to randomness?
Floyd has a tendency to say the strangest things out of nowhere, after all, and the sea itself can be a surprising place
he does not, however, appreciate how you keep speaking in tongues when he's trying to have serious business conversations with you
(seriously, how hard can it be to swindle one person?!)
"Please, just talk normally,"
"But the mome raths outgrabe!"
he doesn't know what that means, but it sounds like an insult
...and then will refuse to converse with you again until you're in a "better mood" (in his own words)
Jade, on the other hand, finds you quite fascinating
he keeps a little notepad on him just to jot down the things you say. why? you can't imagine. he just finds it interesting, you suppose
"'Twas brilling..."
"Really? How interesting. Go on,"
Floyd isn't really paying much attention
your funny words amuse him at best and annoy him at worse
if you ever find yourself in a bad place with the octotrio, you can just say something like:
"You look like you can't steer a shopping cart,"
and Floyd will take actual offense to that, and just straight up leave
(much to Azul's dismay)
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Kalim adds on right away
and keeps going
and keeps going... and keeps going...
"How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."
"Oh, I know! He pours waters on every shining scale,"
at one point Jamil has to pull you aside and beg you not to encourage him
"No promises!" is your answer
Kalim even buys a parrot to add onto the fun
it becomes a three-person (or two-person-and-a-bird?) act
...even if you're not really doing it on purpose
Jamil is who ends up taking care of the parrot while it squawks your old nonsense thoughts, though
he likes the parrot much better than either of you
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Malleus will entertain you based on his own curiosity
none of his other human classmates speak in such odd and puzzling words, so he knows it's a "you" thing
might try to solve them if they sound like riddles
but he mostly just thinks they're cute
"O, oysters, come and walk with us,"
"How interesting... I do wonder where you come up with all this,"
Sebek will listen to you because Malleus does, and Silver has enough nonsense to deal with as it is. will definitely fall asleep while you're talking to him
Lilia responds in like terms
meow at him? he'll meow back
in fact, he'll meow at you every time he sees you until you say something else to capture his curiosity
might go ahead and start speaking to you in tongues before you even say anything
he just thinks you're neat!
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bunnyreaper · 1 year ago
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captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation. 
soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it.  always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!
the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you. 
he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.
taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.
"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.
"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush. 
he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain. 
"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door. 
it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.
your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game. 
was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly. 
"i'm--" 
your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't. 
the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field. 
"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you. 
the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed. 
"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'" 
he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll." 
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lovebugism · 3 months ago
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Hii i saw you wanted some smutty requests so here we go:
being frisky at the fun fair with maybe grumpy!eddie? 🤭 or whoever you think would be better.
absolutely adore your writing btw 💕
hi! this is me making sure i still know how to write lol! pls ignore any mistakes bc this isn't proofread hehe but i hope you like it anon! — eddie munson may hate the state fair, but he loves the hell outta you (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)
Eddie’s too proud for the mirror maze.
Correction: Eddie’s too proud to admit that he has no idea how to get out of the mirror maze. 
You hide your giggling behind your palm when he hits another glass pane with a resounding thud. The cartoonish sound echoes through the otherwise empty attraction, along with the boy’s whispered “Fuck!” he tries hard to hide under his breath. 
His fingertips disappear under his curly bangs as he rubs at his forehead, trying and failing to find the spot that aches. He spins on the heel of his worn sneaker, and you find his pretty features bathed in rainbow neon lights and hardened into a boyish pout. 
He glares when he catches you smiling in the face of his plight, doe eyes narrowing in a look of offense — as though you were the one making him run into every mirror.
“It’s not funny,” Eddie grumbles, now kneading his temple. “I wanna go home.”
Your smile only widens. “We still have to get outta here first, Eds,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you pat gently at his chest.
The notion makes his pout deepen. His huff bounces off the glass-metal cage you’re both stuck in as he spins back around again — lest the pretty way you’re looking at him now makes him melt. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles with a shake of his wild head.
You watch him take a tentative step forward and grin at the back of him. “It’s your fault for being so in love with me,” you joke.
You expect him to turn around and glare again — or to laugh like it’s all a big joke and say, “In your dreams, babe.” But instead, he only sighs. And beneath the soft clanging of his hesitant footsteps against the silver floor, you hear him murmur under his breath, “Yeah, I know…”
His words trail off as he turns a sharp corner. A warning bubbles in your throat, then fades on the edge of your tongue a second later. Eddie rams into his reflection before he can blink. “Shit!” he curses, half-drowned out beneath your giggling and the echoing thud of his previous impact.
“Why don’t you put your arms out in front of you like a normal person?” you wonder through a bout of unbridled laughter.
Eddie grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He rubs at his forehead with his ringed hand balled in a tight fist — not because he hit his head like an idiot (this time, anyway), but because the neon lights coupled with frustration are making his mind all swimmy. If there was anyone not built for a state fair, it was undoubtedly and unequivocally him.
Knowing this, you exhale a whimsical sigh and wrap arms both your arms around him. “Aw, Eds…” you say, still laughing slightly under your breath as you hug him by the waist. 
You rest your head on his shoulder and rub your warm cheek along the soft leather of his jacket. You peer up at him through your lashes and find his face all pinched together — but softened, still, by the emerald-ocean lights overhead.
“Want me to kiss it better?” you offer with a knowing lilt in your gentle voice.
Wordlessly, and never losing his pout, Eddie nods in the affirmative.
You rise to the tips of your toes and brush a kiss against his temple. The boy exhales a deep sigh through his nose before his tense shoulders relax slowly against you. ‘Cause underneath all the metalhead exterior, of course, is just a really big teddy bear.
“Want another?” you ask when you see the plea swimming in his wide brown eyes.
Eddie, however, shrugs unenthusiastically in response. “If it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” he mumbles, though his lips ache with the urge to kiss yours.
You seemingly know this as you wrap both arms around his neck like a snake trying to suffocate its prey before kissing the breath from his lungs. 
Eddie barely has time to take a breath before you’re licking into his mouth — wet tongue running warm along his chapped lips, body so close he can feel your languid heartbeat pounding against his chest. 
His head swims. His stomach swirls. His mouth waters for more. His head pulls back from you all the same.
“Whoa,” he mumbles, slightly slurred, as his lips click audibly from yours. His chcolate eyes are noticeably lidded, and his mouth is distinctly rosier. The sight of your work makes you grin, similarly kiss-struck. “What are you doing?” he wonders aloud, trying to laugh.
“Kissin’ you,” you answer like it’s obvious.
His heavy eyes flit past you to peer further down the maze. They dart wildly back and forth like he’s looking for extra bodies through the glass panes. Your smile widens. “Fair’s closing, babe. There’s no one else in here…”
You trail off and press your mouth to his neck. Not exactly kissing him there, just smoothing your lips up and down the thrumming tendon of his milky white skin. You hear him sigh like he’s annoyed by it all, but his ringed hands find purchase on your hips in surrender. 
“The shit you get me into…” Eddie huffs at the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut when your teeth scratch at his pulse.
“You love it,” you assure with a smile into his skin.
He squeezes at your hips, as though in warning. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”
“Is it?” you hum sarcastically while, at the same time, nudging at his crotch with your thigh — where you can feel his cock beginning to harden through the thick fabric of his jeans. “‘Cause it kinda feels like you love it.”
“I hate you,” you hear him announce in a low grumble, just before his hand reaches for your neck. You can feel the warm silver of his rings along the back of it when he grabs you there,  pulling you away from his skin to press his mouth mercilessly to yours.
Your back hits the mirror with a dull thud, and you try not to think about how Eddie had run into it minutes prior — lest you break into another giggle fit in the heat of the honeyed moment. You just tangle your fingers in the boy’s silky, wild curls and let him make a mess of you. 
It’s all teeth and tongue. So messy, you can feel a mixture of your saliva on your chin. He kisses you with a brutal adoration, like he’s biting into the sweetest of apples.
Eddie grabs your leg with the hand not cradling the back of your neck. You can feel his rings leaving indents on the warm skin of your thigh from how ardently he’s holding you as he urges your knee up to his hips. You wrap your calf around the back of him obediently, skirt creeping scandalously up your lap. 
A whimper sounds in your throat when Eddie grinds his hips forward, trying hopelessly to soothe the aching of his stiffening cock. The coarse denim presses mercilessly to the wet spot forming in your panties. The unforgiving metal of his zipper nudges at your clit. The world spins around you.
When white lights reflect suddenly in rays along the many mirrors around you, you figure it must be the stars in your eyes. Until someone bangs along the far wall at the edge of the attraction, anyway — a dense and distant thud, thud, thud — as though they were beating the glass with their fist.
Your heart lurches into your throat. You and Eddie part from each other instinctively, squinting at the bright light as you search for the person behind it. Through many layers of distorted glass, you find a figure all in khaki — wearing a cowboy hat and a gold badge on his chest. 
Chief fucking Hopper.
“You got one minute to get the hell outta here!” Jim demands in a distant, but no less stern voice.
Eddie gapes, stunned silent, as the throbbing of pleasure between his legs starts to ebb. He’s even more horrified when you start to laugh aloud to yourself, like all of this is funny to you.
“We’re gonna need a lot longer than that, Hop,” you shout back, still giggling as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Eddie’s navigational skills are shit—”
Chest swirling with equal parts embarrassment, frustration, and longing (an albeit dangerous concoction), Eddie grumbles under his breath and reaches for your hand. “Let’s just fucking go,” he mumbles like a rumbling storm cloud as he leads you down the glass maze with a soft but unyielding touch.
“Wait— Watch out,” you caution when you catch him stomping in the wrong direction. 
Your words are punctuated by a metallic thud and Eddie’s pained shout. “Fuck!”
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toxicanonymity · 11 months ago
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it's hard (stepdad one shot)
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3k words, stepdad!joel x f!reader
“Can I tell ya somethin'?” He whispers. “What?” You ask. He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
SUMMARY: You're at their house xmas wk. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, angst, pining, fluff, possessive!joel, sneaking around, outercourse, unsafe p in v, mess of cum. reader can sit on him. Mood board is for mood. A/N: Title is an album by The Who.
It’s Christmas week, only a few days after your first time with Joel, and you’re staying at their house. You show up later than you said you would, and Joel has already asked where you are. The truth is, you're nervous. You’re not sure you want to have sex in their house, and you’re also not sure you can resist.  It’s too mortifying to think about getting caught. There are plenty of other places you can do it–your apartment, a motel, a car. You’re trying to be smart and slow down. 
When you show up, your mom’s car isn’t there. Joel is in the kitchen wearing his standard gray joggers, a tight white tee, and socks with coconuts on them. No shoes. He lights up when you walk in. "Hey," you mutter and he replies in kind as you close the door behind you. You survey the living room where there’s a pillow and blankets on the sofa, and you pity him for a moment.  
“Oh,” he goes over to the christmas tree and plugs in the multicolor lights. “Merry Christmas week.” You stand there with your bags, not really sure what you’re doing, or feeling. He approaches you cautiously. 
You look at each other for a few seconds until you're both comfortable that the other still feels the same way. 
“I'll take those,” Joel finally offers. As he takes the bag off your shoulder, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you,” he mumbles. His shirt rides up as he slings the bag over his shoulder and you follow him upstairs. He glances back and teases, “Caught ya lookin’.”
Once you make it to your bedroom you ask, “where's mom?” 
“Grabbin’ dinner. Guess we’ll eat when she's back.”  He puts the bags down on your bed and steps toward you. You don’t step away. He gently pulls you into a hug. You inhale his scent as his arms wrap around you. 
The embrace lingers, and you can't ignore the warmth of his mostly-soft package pressing against you. 
You begin to whisper, “I don't think we should. . .”  trailing off when you realize you're not sure where to draw the line. Every second in his arms, you're less and less sure. 
“Okay,” Joel murmurs. He kisses you on the cheek–slower, more tender than his initial greeting. “Whatever you want,” he adds. He presses his lips into your cheek again, and they linger for a moment before he drags them away. 
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, then pull away, cheeks burning as his arms reluctantly loosen and his hands slide down, skimming your sides as you step back. 
“I'm gonna unpack,” you mutter, glancing at your luggage, cheeks warm. 
“Yeah,” Joel scratches one side of his beard. “Okay.” 
One day at a time. Have some self-control. You pull yourself away. 
He nods, looks down, and turns around to leave. His back is sooo broad.  You want to reach out and run your hand over his muscles, but you know you wouldn't stop there.
You lock the door behind him and hope it isn't too offensive. As soon as he’s out, you exhale. You lay down on your bed.  You open your nightstand drawer and your heart flutters at a box with a bow on it, and your name in his handwriting. Under it, there's a new pack of batteries. 
You wonder if he's about to jerk off, but you don't wait to find out. You close your eyes and imagine him coming back through the door, unable to resist.
—------------- 
Your Mom comes home with Thai food and the three of you sit down to dinner together. Your mom makes small talk while Joel makes a mess of the pad thai trying to serve himself. Noodles are dragging behind, tethering the pile on his plate to the main container.  Your mom bristles at this in her peripheral vision. 
“So,” your Mom puts on her best interested face and asks you,“Swipe right on anyone lately?” 
Joel scoffs silently. 
“Not many,” you answer. Every time she talks to you, your heart races like you’re about to walk into a trap. This is your own doing, and you know it. 
“How many guys are on there, anyway?”
“A lot.” 
“Can I see?”
It doesn’t even occur to you to say no. 
You open tinder and slide your phone over. “Just swipe left.” 
Joel’s chewing slows down as he stares at the dating app open on your phone. Your stomach drops.
You hadn’t used it at all this week. You would’ve deleted it if you thought about it, but you’re so used to ignoring the notifications. You look at Joel apologetically as your Mom keeps swiping left.
Joel’s nostrils flare, and his breaths become faster. He swallows and doesn’t take another bite. He taps his chopsticks on his plate. 
“Oh,” your Mom addresses you. “You know who’s single?” She looks up from your phone. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at her with his brow furrowed. 
“Harold, down the street.”
“What the hell would she want with Harold?” Joel snaps. 
Your mom chuckles. “What’s wrong with Harold?” 
Her phone rings. Joel puts his chopsticks down and clasps his hands behind his chair to stretch his back. As soon as your Mom stands up from the table, he leans forward and takes your phone. 
“What’s this about?” he asks flatly.  It’s still open to tinder. His jaw clenches. He looks into your messages. At least he can see you haven’t sent any. 
“I forgot I even had it,” you explain. 
He goes to the home screen. “Good, you won’t mind.” He holds down the app and presses uninstall.
“What else ya got?” he starts scrolling your apps.
He goes on instagram and opens a picture of you in a mildly low cut dress. He deletes it and opens another picture. His breathing is still agitated. 
“Hey,” you reach for your phone. “What the hell?” You take it from his hand. “Are you gonna act even crazier now?” 
His brow furrows and he stares at the table, then meets your eyes and swallows. “I dunno.” His face softens as he looks at you.
Then he gets pensive and asks, “What do you think of Harold?” 
You roll your eyes. “I don’t think about Harold at all.” You pocket your phone and get up from the table. 
“Wait, where ya goin’?”
“Meeting a friend for coffee.”
He’s rubbing his beard like he’s trying not to say anything, but he blurts out, “What friend?”
“Emma. . . Jesus.” 
On your way out of the neighborhood, you pass Harold’s house. It feels like every time you drive by in the daylight, he's struggling to bring some kind of delivery inside - Amazon boxes, or even donuts and iced coffee. Tonight he's sitting at his kitchen table alone, wrapping a present.
—--
When you’re at the cafe with Emma, Joel texts you, Sorry.
It’s ok, you reply. 
It's a struggle not to tell Emma what's going on, but you don't. You tell her you’re seeing someone but don't want to jinx it by saying too much.
When you get home, he’s in the kitchen casually leaning with his butt and hands against the counter.  “How ‘bout some egg nog?” 
“No thanks,” you tell him, but you linger. 
“We good?” he asks, quieter. You nod as you take off your jacket, then put it in the coat closet. 
When you turn around, he’s right in your space. His eyes are red and his hair is messier than earlier, giving you a rush of desire.
“Sorry,” he repeats and reaches for your head.
You don’t pull away.
He cradles the back of your head as he hugs you loosely. You let your hands lightly skim his hips, then wrap around him. It would be a harmless hug in a different family. Until he pulls his head back, then rubs his nose against yours. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, nostrils filling with his aftershave. Then a toilet flushes in the background, and you break apart. 
“I’m going to read,” you mumble. His fingertips skim your ass as you walk away. 
—------------- 
You’re lying in bed later, still reading, when Joel sends you a snapchat. The notification makes you tingle, but when you open it, it’s not him. It’s the TV downstairs with the title card of Krampus. You get out of bed and pad over to your mom's room. You crack the door open, and she's passed out. 
You go downstairs.
Joel is lying on his side on the sofa. You and he are wearing the same pajamas you got for Christmas last year. The Christmas tree casts the room in a dim, cozy light. 
He welcomes you under his arm. Just a little cuddling, you lie to yourself.
Without much hesitation, you settle in as a small spoon so you're both facing the tv. He runs his hand up and down your side before dangling his arm over your waist.  The bulge in his pants is barely grazing you, until you push your ass back and he inhales sharply, then cups your breast, using his forearm across your torso to bring you closer. His nose nudges your neck and you can feel him inhaling your scent. His warm package nudges your ass. It's the first time you've felt him soft, like really felt him. It's still quite a bulge.
He's not soft for long. Soon he’s lightly grinding against you, hard and getting harder as the movie quietly plays. His hand leaves your breast, skimming down your soft pajama top to its bottom hem. His fingers creep under the shirt and when they hit your bare skin, the shock of arousal has you thinking very stupid thoughts. Like, maybe you should ride him on this couch, come what may. You stop his hand from going any further up your shirt. 
His arm relaxes in defeat. 
You gently take his hand out from under your shirt and bring it near your breast, where it was. Instead, he covers your hand with his and interlaces his fingers. His thumb brushes yours at a slow rhythm, and the butterflies in your chest nearly make you forget what you're trying to resist until his cock twitches against you.
He takes his hand back only for a moment to adjust himself, then his hand returns to yours. His arm wraps tighter over you. Against your back, his chest expands with each breath. The rhythmic stroke of his thumb lulls you half-asleep. 
“Can I tell ya somethin?” He whispers. 
“What?” You ask. 
He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches back to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
“I wanna do this every night,” he says. 
Your heart flutters. You turn on your side to face him. 
“I mean it,” his eyes are somber. He lays his hand on your side. He takes in a shaky breath. “I'm miserable without you.” 
“I'm right here.” 
He shakes his head. “I need all of you.” 
You look at each other for a few seconds in the light of the Christmas tree. There's not much to say. 
“Me too,” you whisper. His nose twitches and he shakes his head like you don't get it.
“What I’m tryin’ to say is. . .I’d ruin my life for you, if it wouldn't ruin yours, too.”
You read each other's eyes for a long moment.
“What life,” you whisper.
His eyes brighten. “That's how I feel.”  His gaze falls to your lips. “We’ll get a new one.” 
You want to kiss him, but don't want to end up naked. First you warn,  “I don't wanna take off any-”  
He cuts you off with his lips. They’re soft and needy. Then his hand runs down your side, over your ass, and his fingers dig into your flannel-clad thigh. You hike your knee up and wrap your leg around him. The hard shape in his pants presses right against your most sensitive place. “Mm,”  you moan softly into his mouth.
You’re throbbing for him. So turned on. His tongue slides against yours and he feeds on your mouth as he grinds against you. His dick is fat and hard and warm.
As you move against each other, pangs of pleasure dart to your nipples, your ass, your chest. He's so hard. Your body flutters on the edge of bliss but stays there. He grabs the plush of your ass, pulling you harder against him. You break the kiss with a gasp, and he latches onto your neck. 
With a push of his hips, he moans into your neck then whispers, “can't wait to be inside you again.” you throb and gush at the thought. He grinds against you a little harder, needier, but just as slow. “Fuck, you feel good.” He rolls over on his back, bringing you on top of him. Then he sits up and lifts your knees so your legs wrap around him and you hang onto his neck.
“God I wanna fuck you like this,” he whispers, holding you against him. His cock swells harder. You're throbbing madly. You card your fingers into his hair and he groans at your fingertips on his scalp. His strong arm holds you against him with his hips lifting under you. 
“Me too,” you whisper, your legs pulling yourself closer, harder. You groan softly. “Want you inside me—fuck, just like this.”
“Can ya feel it,” he asks, “ohhh–cause I still feel it–god–every time I close my eyes.” He moans as his stiff manhood twitches against you. Your clit pulses and you gasp. He covers your mouth with a kiss as you come. Everything else fades away. His lips break away with a shudder as he explodes against you through the soft flannel, pulsing hard. Your chest flutters at the feeling.
When you're both done, he lets you back onto the sofa, and resumes his position on his side. He pulls you back against him with a sigh. You're pleasantly surprised that you don't feel a bigger mess against your back.
“Shit,” he mutters after a minute.
“What?”
“‘s’not your problem.” 
“Say it.” You roll on your back to look at him.
His cheeks flush. “M’not empty.” 
Your heart skips a beat.
“Not your problem,” he repeats, but you’re already pulling down your waistband. Yeah, it’s. . .not a problem at all.
You turn on your side again, facing the tv. You reach back into his pants, and your breath hitches at the mess of cum enrobing his slowly softening dick.
“Do it,” you whisper, and tilt your hips for him.
He quickly notches his cum smeared dick at your entrance, no longer fully hard, but hard enough. He presses on your mound as he plunges into you, dividing your insides with a sigh. “Fuck,” he breathes. Your chest feels light as your body makes space for him. 
You close your eyes as he further stiffens, growing inside you, pressing against your walls. His hand slides up your top. He gropes your breast as he retreats, then bottoms out again. Within a few strokes, he’s as stiff as ever, and you’re as full as ever. 
He pauses, fully seated inside you, throbbing. He covers you both with a blanket. You're relieved there's another one beneath you. He breathes against your ear as his hand meanders under your top again. “Inside?” 
“Yeah,” You nod.  
“Where it should be,” he pants. He moans as he slowly fucks you.
“Want it all,” you beg, getting closer and closer with the tight drag of him within you.
He adjusts his position, sliding his arm under your neck so he can grope you with both hands, hugging you tight against him.
"'s'all I think about," he whispers. "Ungghhh---when I wake up---ohh--when I go to sleep."
He moans softly and his hands feel you greedily, "whenever you're ready."
“Fuck,” you whisper. He buries himself in you slow and deep. His breath is hot on your neck. You push back on him, swallowing every inch he’ll feed your drooling cunt. He buries his mouth and nose against your head. The Christmas lights are blurry in the corner of your eye.
“Feel so perfect,” he pants. He rubs your clit and you still his hand. He withdraws part way and pauses with his tip nudging just the right spot. He just barely rocks his hips, staying right there, rubbing over it, not letting up.
You gasp and tighten with tension, then sigh as you gush on him.
“Yeah,” he pants, presses your mound for leverage, and bottoms out as you choke his cock.
He sighs and begins to pulse with even more power than you remember. A huge burst of warmth, followed by a smaller twitch, another massive burst, a slow thrust. It keeps coming, and so do you. His breaths are heavy against you, his stomach flexing into your back as he empties his load. You're overflowing with cum. Your climax wanes, and he's still pulsing even once he's dry.
It finally stops, and he rests inside.
-
You catch your breath, and the smell of sex hangs so heavy in the air that dread bubbles in your chest. You pull yourself forward, letting his cock fall out.
“Shit,” you mutter at the mess between your legs. You pull your pants up. He squeezes your hip affectionately as you sit up.
He sits up on his elbow and tucks away his worn out cock. He takes a deep breath and searches your eyes.
You don't know what to say. You reach back to feel the blanket – soaked. “This is. . .we can’t do this again.”
He whispers your name, sits up and rests one hand on your back, one on your thigh. His chest is heaving like he's waking up from a nightmare. “What happened,” he whispers. “Talk to me.”
“Here. We can't do this here.”
He sighs and swallows. “Okay,” he whispers. “Sorry.”
“You know how to use the washer, right?”
“Yeah. I've got it. Of course.”
You take off your pajama bottoms.
“You okay ?” He asks.
You nod. You yearn to lay with him, but you’re also compelled to leave that room.
You read his face and the worry on it makes your heart hurt.
“It's okay,” you whisper, then kiss him good night. It's a long, soft kiss, and he doesn't want to let you go. “It’s okay, I promise,” you assure him.
You creep up the stairs pantsless. The air is cool on the cum between your thighs until more warmth trickles out.
You clean up in your bathroom and hear the washer turn on downstairs. You can't get his pitiful look out of your head. You send him a chat when you get back in bed: Good night ❤️.
Sweet dreams ❤️🤟, he replies.
—---
----
----
Thank you for reading!
PSA - The main story to stepdad is over, and I don't commit to another arc of them, but the AU is still open for one shots, asks, HCs, whatever I get inspired on. Basically I want it to be more casual without expectations.
There will be another post this month, because I already wrote the smut.
@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @nervousmumbling
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