#i’d do it all myself it’d be so pretty…
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F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit
drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto
warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮
a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea
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So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.
Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.
Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.
We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.
So, AITAH?
Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.
So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."
I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."
She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.
But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.
So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?
Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!
I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.
Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”
I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.
So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?
Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.
So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.
A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.
Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.
Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.
So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?
Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.
Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.
A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.
Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.
Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.
So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?
Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...
So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.
The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."
He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.
Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?
Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!
So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.
Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.
The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.
So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?
Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement
Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.
I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!
One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.
So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?
Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.
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#sera write's#formula 1#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#f1 fic#oscar piastri smau#lando norris smau#charles leclerc smau#lewis hamilton smau#carlos sainz smau#max verstappen smau#george russell smau#franco colapinto smau#oscar piastri#lando norris#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#carlos sainz#max verstappen#george russell#franco colapinto
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i like the freedom of movement that comes with renting but i like to think i’ll own a home some day
#i just want a townhouse in a smaller seaside city up north…#chevron patterned wood flooring + mediterranean style backsplash tiling#i’d do it all myself it’d be so pretty…
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i want. to write a novel. one day
#most of the original stuff i do is short fiction which i do really enjoy#but the idea of smth long that came totally out of my head. it appeals#i’m busy tho and writing long is really hard for me#ideas come out of me pretty focused and tight it’d take a lot of work to like find the places that could be expanded#i have this one idea that’s been w me for literal years#i’ve tried to write it a few different ways and it’s never worked#like there’s a half finished short story of it in my google drive#but like. there’s a hypothetical 6k version of it and also a hypothetical much longer version of it#it’s definitely that level of idea. definitely definitely#ik i could just like commit to trying to do it lol at the end of the day all i need is to invest myself into it#intimidating tho. anything over like 1.5k takes me so much brain power shdjfks i’d be in for the long haul#cool b does cool things
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let’s fulfill the prophecy • minsung x reader
M D N I 18+
Synopsis: you and your best friends, Minho and Jisung, don’t mind talking about your sex lives and desires. Though one night when Jisung makes a suggestion about a fantasy all three of you share, you can’t help but take the offer.
WC: 2.9k
Warnings: PURE SMUT, pwp, smut, afab!reader, softdom!minho, switch!reader, sub!jisung, bsf!minho, bsf!jisung, piv, unprotected sex (PEE AFTER SEX AND USE PROTECTION), same hole double penetration, threesome, vaginal sex, double creampie, jisung is super vocal while minho isn’t, oral (f&m receiving), nippleplay (f&m receiving), some m/m action, breeding kink, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, good boy), friends to idk what(lovers???)…probably forgetting some- tee hee sorry
a/n: imma go touch grass now just like chan told us
Even though your two best friends are boys, you never thought much about talking to them about your sex life, they never hindered from telling you theirs either. So tonight didn’t seem any different.
The three of you gathered around the short wooden coffee table that laid in the middle of the living room, blabbing about things that happened this week.
“Ooh! There was a girl that was all over Minho this week!” Jisung exclaimed as if he just remembered the most important thing in the world. His words peeked your interests, you turned your gaze over to the previously mentioned boy, giving him a knowing look.
Minho’s shoulders rose from being put on the spot, “She wasn’t all over me…she was just there?” Minho furrowed his brows in a questioning manner. “She was totally into you! She was hot too!” Jisung said matter-a-factly, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin. Minho simply rolled his eyes at him.
Minho isn’t necessarily the type to have one-night stands unlike Jisung who likes to play around a bit. “Well what about you Ji? You’ve snuck your way into anyone’s pants this week?” Minho changes the subject. Jisung’s eyes usually light up like a kid on Christmas when he’s asked about his sex life. Liking to recall everything while you and Minho just sit there listening…internally disturbed at some of the things he says.
Though, this time, Jisung’s eyes didn’t have that spark. The round cheeked boy simply shook his head, “I’ve been left blue balled all week. That one girl I told yall about got a family emergency notification while we were grinding on each other!” Jisung threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
You let out a snort and Minho chuckles at his words. “What about you?”
“Me? Nah, haven’t gotten laid in a few weeks. Though when I went to the bar last weekend these two random dudes offered to do a three way with me-“
“Shit, a threesome sounds like so much fun! I wanna do one!” Jisung cut you off, “How was it?!”
“Well if you would let me fucking finish- I turned them down cuz my friend I was with puked.”
“Aww, would you have said yes if she hadn’t puked?” Minho pokes at you jokingly.
“Yeah probably, it’s seems like it’d be intresting- but at the same time I’d want them to be trustable people since I’m guessing it’d hurt like fuck! Don’t wanna be just left to clean up myself, you know.”
As you rambled you failed to notice Jisung suggestively nudging Minho with his elbow. Minho stared between him and you, before realizing what Jisung was indicating. “Jisung what the fuck?” The black haired boy stared at the younger. You look between the two confused.
“Oh c'mon Min! It’d be fun don’t ya think?!” Jisung whined, Minho continued staring at him as if he was crazy. “What is it?”
“This dumbass just suggested that we have a threesome.” Minho spat, though he’d never admit aloud that the idea slightly aroused him.
“Wait…you wanna try it too, right Ji?” You ask, Jisung nods frantically in response. “Do you wanna try it Min?” Minho stared at you as if you’d lost your mind by agreeing with Jisung. “I mean…I guess, but won’t you think it’s weird?”
“Oh c’mon! It’s for scientific research to determine if we like it or not.” You whine just as Jisung had done prior. “I guess.” He answered unsure. You notice his uneasiness, “Hey, if you don’t wanna do it we won’t.” Minho smiled at you appreciatively, “No, I want to do it.”
“Are we doing this or what?” Jisung grinned, popping up from his spot on the floor and making his way to your bedroom door. Your heart raced with anticipation, you’d be lying if you said you’d hadn’t thought about this before…when your best friends are as hot as Minho and Jisung are, how could you not fantasize about them at least one time.
You bolted up from your spot on the floor and towards your bedroom, pulling Jisung inside. “C’mon Min!” Jisung called out to the elder who just watched as the two of his best friends just ran off to a room to have sex together. Nonetheless, Minho rose from his spot, walking towards your now open bedroom door. As Minho neared the door, he watched as Jisung had his lips attached to your neck.
You tilt your head, allowing him more space to nibble and suck at. Your eyes shifted to the man who was standing at your door, you motioned for him to come over. “We’re actually doing this then?”
Minho sighed, arousal shooting quickly to his cock. “We can stop if you want.” You stated, Jisung whining at your words. Minho shook his head as he neared the two of you. “You guys are actually insane.” The feline-eyed boy chuckles, cupping your cheek in his hand. You melt into his touch with a sigh.
Small moans began flowing from your mouth as Jisung bit down along your collarbone before licking a stripe on the spot. “Ji,” You scrunch your eyes, hands flying to his hair. Jisung pulled away from your neck with a smirk. As Jisung fully removes himself from you, Minho decides to take the lead and back you towards the bed, falling onto the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.
Minho guided you gently to lay down. “You sure you want this?” He stared down at you, he noticed how flushed your cheeks were and the multiple marks that Jisung had left on your skin. “God yes, shit, this might just be an excuse at this point.” You bashfully confess, turning your head away to avoid eye contact. “Oh, she thinks we’re hot!” Jisung piped up, you felt the weight of the bed dip to your left. Jisung hovered over you, his face coming into your sight. “Don’t worry babe, I’ve thought about this before too. How could I not, you two are ridiculously hot.” He grins before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
Your eyes follow Jisung’s as he turns his gaze to Minho who just stands there, lip caught between his teeth. “He’s probably fantasized about this more though.” Though you weren't looking at him, you knew he wore a teasing smirk. “Oh fuck you Ji.” Minho groaned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “That’s what I’m trying for you to do.” Growing annoyed, Minho pushes Jisung onto the bed, harsher than how he guided you down.
“Hey pretty,” Minho turned his gaze to you, his eyes burning with lust, “Wanna help me out with this one while I take care of you?” You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, Minho’s sudden change in demeanor fully arousing you. You quickly rise from the bed and straddle Jisung’s hips. Jisung stares up at you with rosey cheeks. “You gonna take care of me baby- oh fuck!” His teasing was cut short with the roll of your hips. His hands fly up to your hips, trying to guide you to move faster, but you’re faster, slapping his hands away. “If you’re a good boy I’ll let you touch later.”
Jisung groans loudly at your words, you note how his cock twitched under you at the pet name. You continue rolling your hips into his, soft whimpers falling from both of your mouths. Suddenly, a pair of hands start trailing along the curves of your body, trailing their way down to the hem of your t-shirt. You could feel Minho’s warmth behind you. His hands stop right at the hem, as if the boy behind you were asking to continue. You were quick to nod, pleas flowing from your mouth.
Minho tugged your shirt up and over your head, your chest now almost fully exposed to your best friends. Jisung watched as you grind down on him as Minho took your shirt off. He could see how your nipples pebbled through your bra. Jisung’s hands unconsciously moved to touch them, but yet again you smacked them away before he could touch you. “What did I say?” You tsked.
Jisung simply whined. “Shirt.” You order below, he’s quick to understand what you mean, peeling his shirt from his body, tossing it somewhere in the room.
You stared down at the flushed boy, his abs flexed and his nipples hardened. You reach down and pinch one of his nubs, twisting and pulling at it as whines flow from Jisung’s mouth. “Fuck, baby c’mon! Lemme touch you already…I wanna touch you.” He babbles. You hunch over, taking one of his nipples in your mouth, nibbling at the nub teasingly as Jisung’s cock throbbed against your cunt. “Holy fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Suddenly you’re pulled away from Jisung’s chest. Hands harshly gripping your hips before hesitantly cupping your breasts, you throw your head back, resting it on Minho’s shoulder. Minho takes this as a chance to suck at the skin of your neck. Trailing his teeth along your neck before leaving feather kisses under your ear.
Your hips rolled needily into Jisung below you. The latter staring up with an arousal driven gaze as he watched you grind into him, the feeling of your warmth against him, Minho kneading at your tits and his mouth all over your skin…the skin that he, Jisung, wanted to so desperately touch. “Baby…please. I’ve been a good boy- I’ll keep being a good boy, just let me touch you.” Jisung fisted the sheets next to him as your hips edged him towards his climax.
“Fuck, Imma cum.” He warned. And almost immediately you lifted yourself from him, a broken moan slipping past his lips from the loss of friction, Minho also frowning at the loss of contact with your tits. “Baby, why’d you do that?”
“You said you were gonna be a good boy, no?” You teased him, his round cheeks flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red. You smirk at his reaction.
You tugged at the elastic waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs till you could kick them off somewhere. Both Jisung and Minho watched as you removed the articles of clothing, the sight making their cocks throb in their pants. “Min, care to help tease him for a bit.” You offered, your eyes burning into Jisung’s. Minho nodded, his eyes turning towards the younger boy. Minho didn’t fail to notice the bulge Jisung was sporting through his jeans.
“Pretty boy, you want help with these?” Minho smirked, his fingers trailing along the hem of Jisung’s jeans, looping around one of the belt loops. “God please- fuck Min!” Jisung groaned, willing to do anything at this point to be touched or touch someone. Jisung reached for Minho’s wrist but stopped himself, assuming he’d get rejected again.
Minho let out a deep chuckle before wrapping his fingers around Jisung’s wrist and guiding it to his face. “I’ll let you touch me for now.” He cocked his head as his fingers worked Jisung’s zipper down. You watched as the two boys maneuvered around to get Jisung undressed, until Jisung laid there fully naked. His cock erected, resting on his lower abdomen. Your mouth watered as you stared at the pretty boy’s cock. You wanted him in your mouth- no you needed him in your mouth.
“Minnie, can you prep me?” You asked Minho though your eyes remained on Jisung’s cock. Minho’s gaze shifted from Jisung to you. He noticed your staring and shifted over, freeing up space between Jisung’s legs. “You sure?” Minho asked as you bent over, leaving your ass exposed to him. “Yeah, I am…are you guys?”
“Fuck yeah.” Minho breathed out. “Can one of yal fucking touch me…please?” Jisung cried out, his cock leaking precum as it throbbed painfully.
You roll your eyes playfully before leaning in and taking the whining boy into your mouth. A waterfall of ‘fucks’ and ‘so good baby’ fell from his mouth, Jisung’s eyes screwed shut, but not until he started feeling vibrations against his cock. His eyes snap open, seeing how you took his cock into his mouth so easily, your lips so pink and wet around his shaft.
Another wave of vibrations surrounded his cock, he finally noticed that they were your moans. Your moans as Minho ate you out from behind, wet sounds of your juices mixing with his spit as his fingers pumped into your sopping cunt. “Fuck Min, keep doing that! She’s taking me so well!” Jisung cried out, his knuckles were white with how tight he was holding on to the sheets, just like how he was holding off his climax as best he could.
“I think you’re good now, pretty.” Minho said with a huff, his face wet with your arousal. You pulled away from Jisung’s throbbing cock with a ‘pop’.
Swinging your legs over the younger’s hips, straddling him as you had previously. “You ready Ji?”
“More than ready, princess.” Your eyes go wide at the sudden nickname, your heart unreasonably hammering into your chest. You shake your head out of it. The messy haired boy hisses as you guide his cock towards your entrance.
You sink down slowly onto his cock, the two of you letting out pornographic moans at the feeling. His cock fit you so well, you could feel every vein and curve of his cock as you unconsciously clenched around him, prompting him to buck his hips slightly.
Jisung’s gaze fell on your face, how your eyes scrunched up with pleasure as you began rolling your hips onto his, the new feeling already edging you both towards an orgasm. His gaze fell to your lips and how they formed a small ‘o’ shape as breathy moans left them. Fuck, he wanted to kiss you so bad. You must’ve picked up on his desire because before the two of you knew it, you were kissing.
Lips moving sloppily against each other as your hips started moving faster and as Jisung started thrusting into you. “Sungie.” You whimpered into the kiss, his hands flying to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. Jisung didn’t even care if you’d be upset at him touching you. But you didn’t care, you need his hands in you. “I’m right here princess.” He cooed as his hands made their way down to your hips, steadily holding as he thrust into you.
You moan into the kiss when you feel something else probing at your entrance. It was Minho’s finger. The older boy watched as his younger friends made out like hormonal teenagers. His finger traced along the rim of your pussy which was currently taking Jisung. “I’ve waited a bit, no?”
Minho smirked as he pushed his finger inside your hole, both you and Jisung letting out moans.
Minho worked his fingers in and out of you, stretching your hole even more while Jisung pounded into you. “You ready?” Minho asked, his hands rubbing circles on your waist. “God, need to feel both of you- fuck, now please Min- fuck Sungie!”
“Oh fuck!” Jisung and you moaned simultaneously as Minho pushed his cock into your tight cunt. The stinging pain of both of their cocks only turning you on more. “Fuck, Imma cum- fucking shit.” Jisung warned, his cock twitching deep inside you along Minho’s. “Fu...f-fill me up- you’ve been a good boyf fill me up baby.” You slump your head against his as Minho pounds you from behind.
Jisung spills over the edge, filling you up with every last drop of his seed, your pussy milking him so perfectly. Minho continued rutting into you, Jisung cried out from the overstimulation but nonetheless didn’t pull out. “Fuck, Minnie Imma cum- fuck Min!” A tear fell from your eye as your mind went blank with ecstasy. Your climax hit you like a truck as you squirted around both of their cocks, leaving Jisung’s abdomen soaked.
“Fucking hell.” Minho grunted at how tight you clenched around him that it sent him over the end. His hips stuttered as he filled you with his seed, both his and Jisung mixing within yours.
Your body felt limp as they both pulled out. The icky feeling of their cum rushing down your thighs made you cringe. Minho guided you to lay on your back before running off somewhere.
Both you and Jisung laid there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving and faces flushed.
“We just did that.” You huffed out a laugh.
“We just did that.” Jisung confirms, his voice sounding so raspy.
Minho returned with a warm towel, nudging your legs open before cleaning you. “I love you guys.” You said after cleaning up everything. Minho turned to you with a small smile on his face, his hands moved to cup your cheek before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. The two of you pull away, a grumble catching both of your attentions. Your gaze shifted to Jisung who pouted, wanting a kiss for himself.
You giggle before giving him a kiss as well. Jisung melts into your touch so easily, “I love you guys too.” He sighed into the kiss, pulling away before cuddling you into his chest. “You guys are still crazy for that.”
“Oh c’mon Min, you know you liked it.” You scoff, the feeling of Minho’s arms wrapping around both you and Jisung comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I love you guys too.”
#skz#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#lee know x reader#lee know smut#minsung x reader#minsung smut#minsung#Lee know#lee minho smut#lee minho x reader#Lee Minho#han jisung x reader#han jisung#han#skz han#han smut#jisung smut#jisung#jisung x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#han x reader
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Tom Saves The World
Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.
But not always.
I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.
I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.
The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.
And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.
Which never, ever happens.
My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.
At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.
But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.
Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.
I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.
She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.
It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.
And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.
I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.
Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.
The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.
There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.
They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.
To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.
Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.
Enter Thomas Briggs.
Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.
Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.
Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.
And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.
He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.
The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.
One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.
Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.
I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.
I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.
He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.
And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.
I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”
He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”
“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.
He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”
I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”
It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.
But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.
Wild, huh?
--
This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.
And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.
#short fiction#dyce's supers universe#comics inspired#sometimes something just goes right#horseshoe repair
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...What happens if I put a full twenty dollars into the urban fantasy vending machine?
it's been on the backburner for over a year, so nothing fresh, but for twenty dollars in the urban fantasy vending machine, here is a short vignette I haven't touched in a year and a half
The room was crisp and bright, all sharp edges and polished monochrome. The sun shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, refracting off the sparkling glass and steel spires that carved out the skyline and focusing with almost suspicious precision directly into my eyeballs. I slumped down further in my chair and squinted across at the empty desk. Everything was too damn bright.
“Can I get you anything, detective?”
The voice that rang out from behind me was innocent and musical. The woman it belonged to was not.
I scowled. “Absolutely not.”
“Suit yourself.” I could hear the indulgent smile. “The coffee’s very good, you know. I don’t settle for anything less than the best.”
“I’m sure.”
“And with a nose like yours, I’m sure you already knew.”
Water boiled, and a rich, bitter scent coiled through the air. It was good. Probably that Blue Mountain stuff, or - no. It had to be Turkish. Of course she’d do Turkish.
I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled harshly. There was no way around it - I was exhausted. I’d hit the 48-hour sleep dep limit back on Saturday and had been burning through raw determination ever since. It was damn stupid of me, frankly. I probably couldn’t even handle arithmetic right now, let alone solve a mystery.
But it’d be real stupid of me to accept a drink from the most notorious poisoner in history, so I was just going to have to deal with it.
I reluctantly opened my eyes and the world blurred back into focus as a tall figure briefly eclipsed the dazzling display of sun-sparkled skyscrapers. A coffee cup settled on the desk with a soft clink. There was a rustle as she settled into the high-backed chair and leaned forward. The sun caught in her golden braided bun and played across the shoulders of her elegant black suit. Pale, slender hands clasped the coffee cup with practiced precision.
“So,” Medea said. “How can I help you today?”
Her eyes were honey-gold. Granddaughter of Helios, the myths had said, and the sun certainly seemed to be in the habit of favoring her. Her corporate empire dealt in energy. Geothermal, hydroelectric, solar, even nuclear - all those shiny, clean alternatives that were slowly outcompeting the old oil-burning models. Her power stations were already keeping the lights on for half of the eastern united states. It was a hell of a niche she’d carved out for herself, and like everything else she’d ever done, she was stunningly good at it. Then again, for a demigod princess and compulsive social climber, the world of corporate politics must’ve felt like a home away from home.
Her gaze was steady and level, like I wasn’t cutting into her busy workday. Like she had all the time in the world.
Well. She did, didn’t she?
I sighed. “There’s a new drug on the streets.”
“Is it Tuesday already?”
“This one’s different.” I rubbed my eyes. “Right now, they just think it’s a hallucinogen.”
“And?”
“It’s not. It shows what’s really there.”
The coffee cup froze halfway to her lips. “How much?”
“Can’t tell for sure. Sounds like they’re seeing fairies, sprites, goblins, standard hidden world stuff… but I’m pretty sure it cuts through glamour. Might even go deeper, start showing shifter’s true forms.” I leaned back. “The secret world won’t stay secret for long if the users and abusers start comparing notes. I was half-tempted to take some of the stuff myself just to find out how much they know, but I’m not exactly a neutral test subject.”
“Yes, between your physiology and your temperament, that would be very unwise.” The clink of her cup cut off my half-hearted retort. “Do you have any mortal friends who might be willing to take the plunge?”
I barked a bitter laugh. “All my mortal friends are wizards or cops.”
“Unfortunate. I see why you came to me.” She leaned back, lacing her fingers together. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
Damn. Damn. Why was I surprised?
“That kind of potion isn’t really my style anyway,” she said. “Illusions and the breaking thereof are rather… outside my typical wheelhouse.”
“I know, I know.” I rubbed my eyes again. “I didn’t think you were making the stuff. I just hoped maybe you knew something. Nobody knows where it’s coming from.”
“The Goblin Market?”
“Obviously some people are dealing it through there, but I don’t have a supplier.”
“Tricky.” She leaned back. “What’s the delivery method?”
“That’s the weird part. It’s topical.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Unusual. No ingestion or injection?”
“No.” I dug into my jacket pocket and pulled out the scuffed stainless steel tin, then dropped it on her desk. “Kid up in Wicker Park saw me, dropped this and ran. Broad daylight. I wasn’t even changed.”
“You do cut an intimidating figure regardless.”
I scowled. “I don’t know what he saw.”
She nodded once, then gestured at the tin. “Do you mind?”
“Be my guest.” I sank deeper into the chair.
She delicately picked up the tin and traced a nail around the lid. “The container is mundane.”
“Yep.”
She turned it in her hands, the battered metal catching the light. Then she cracked the lid.
I braced myself and squeezed my eyes shut. The smell was overwhelming and utterly unidentifiable - syrupy, sickly, wormwood and petrichor and rot. The headache I’d been nursing intensified.
I heard her sniff. Lucky woman. She had to try to smell the stuff.
“Otherworldly ingredients.” There was a click and the smell dissipated. I risked cracking an eye open. She’d replaced the lid and was staring at the container pensively.
“What do you think?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe I should be asking you. If I want to identify the makeup of an unknown mixture, I need a full lab and the favor of Hekate. You just need your nose.”
I groaned. “All I know is it’s weird and I hate it.”
“Weird?”
“Weird! I can’t pin it down. It almost smells like something, but” - I waved my hands vaguely - “it’s all wrong.”
Medea stared for a moment, then set down the tin. “Detective, have you ever been to fairyland?”
“I assume you’re not being euphemistic,” I said, rubbing my eyes.
“No. I’m referring to the realm of fairy. Built on the ruins of Tír na nÓg, ruled by the Fairy Queen, land of glamour and illusion, home of the people of the hills. You must be familiar.”
“Of course I am.”
“But you’ve never been there?”
“I don’t do otherworld travel if I can help it.” I sat up. “Why?”
Medea idly traced a finger over the tin. “The bones of the fairy realm are very real, but for the most part, the realm is a beautiful illusion starving for reality. Your senses are entranced by a perfect, glamorous experience, but your body and soul waste away. Surely you’re familiar with the harmful effects of fairy food?”
“On paper.” I glanced at the tin. “You think this is some kind of illusion?”
“Just the opposite.” She tapped the lid sharply. “Fairyland is nothing more than the eternal dream of the Fairy Queen, but Tír na nÓg is as real as you or I. A land of promise and plenty, lost to ruin when its link to this world withered away. Its denizens fading to shades, its fruits and flowers rotting and decaying where they grew.”
I frowned. “This… this isn’t your area. Why do you know so much about this?”
She sighed. “Really, detective. Did you really think, over three thousand years, I stayed entirely in the mediterranean?”
“No, of course not-“
“After my flight from Athens I broadened my horizons significantly. I have visited the realm of Fairy several times.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course, after the Tír fell to ruin, the quality of ingredients I could acquire plummeted rather dramatically. Gossamer illusions make for poor potions.”
I tried to cut through the fog in my head. Things were coming together. “You… think this was made in fairyland?”
“I think it was, at minimum, made from fairyland.”
“The smell… is odd. Like a floral perfume gone wrong. Rot making everything sweeter.” I scowled. “Not an illusion. Illusions don’t smell that bad.”
“Good,” she said. “Then some industrious denizen appears to have scoured the far edges of Fairyland to acquire ingredients from the ruins of the Tír.”
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favorite insomniac | spencer reid
a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words
You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all.
Obviously not great. But not insomnia.
Tonight, however, is not a usual night.
You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM.
Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable.
You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows.
And then you give up.
There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him.
“Hey,” he says, voice raspy.
Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.”
“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep?”
His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?”
You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart.
“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–”
“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?”
“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.”
“That’s nice.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound.
“What did you call me for then?”
Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.
“Wanna go for a drive?”
Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.”
“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”
“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?”
He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”
“You're what?!"
"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.
"Now? You have a car?”
“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds drabble#my fics#couldn't find a cuter pic of spencer on a phone so its payphone image u have to suspend ur disbelief
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And Yet..
Paring(s): jj maybank x fem!reader
Summary: two people who should be together simply can't find their way. In other words, JJ can't let himself be loved and can't let her go.
Author's note: This one is brutal so prepare yourselves. Realistically, JJ would totally self sabotage any chance of happiness because he can't handle how it makes him feel so that's exactly what this is. Thank you for all the feedback on 3 seconds! If you like when it hurts, then this is for you!
Part 1: Three Seconds
-------------------
He left.
It’d been hours and none of us knew where JJ went, only that he left. While JJ storming off was a normal feat, he always came back.
Now normally, I would have been looking for him, knowing exactly where to look. I’d find him and we’d avoid everyone until he felt like he was ready. This time was different. He never looked at me the way he did today.
A look of pure betrayal.
John B had gone MIA with Sarah while Pope and Kie were handling everything we needed to look for the gold. Me? I was trying to find a way to cope with the sudden JJ sized gap in my life.
It was brutal trying to get through the entire day without collapsing. Everything felt dull. I decided going home and hiding out in my room was the only option. It spared me the looks of concern from our friends and gave me the freedom to cry.
My room felt abnormally empty and cold. My stomach rolled as JJ’s words played in a brutal loop. I crawled into my bed where I curled into myself tightly, hugging my knees to my chest to create some type of pressure.
He’ll come back. He always comes back.
I jolted awake to pounding on my window.
“-wake up. He needs you. It’s bad oh my god it’s really bad.”
Scrambling off the bed, I pushed the curtains aside to see Kie’s panicked face. “Kie, what’s going on?”
Her face filled with relief as she pulled me into her. “We need to get to the chateau now. He’s not making any sense and bought all of this stuff.”
Nausea rolled in my stomach.
“JJ-“
She cuts me off. “He needs you.”
I left the house in seconds, hopped into the Hayward truck and we took off. I nibbled on my nails, glancing at Kiara in the drivers seat. Her face was painted with worry and her leg bopped up and down displaying her nervous energy.
Kie moved one hand from the steering wheel and threaded our hands together, squeezing tightly.
Pulling up to the chateau, I see LED lights tangled up on the trees, shining lights reflecting on the yard. How was there power? The hurricane had taken everything out.
Before I could figure it out, I heard a commotion that drifted up the drive way.
“Where is she? You said Kie was getting her.”
My heart jumped to my throat. I hold onto Kiara tighter as we move toward the raised voices.
Something twisted in my chest as I took in the hot tub and lights suddenly decorating John B’s yard.
JJ is shouting at Pope now, slurring his words slightly, before taking a pull of the champagne he clutched in his hand.
“Look man, she’s here. She’s here, JJ. Calm down.” Pope announced, pointing in our direction, before placing his hands around his head and taking a deep breath.
Awareness ran through me. JJ turned his body to face me, his gaze flicked to mine.
He said nothing yet his eyes said everything. There was an openness that seemed to make him vulnerable.
“You came.”
A tug deep in my chest urged me to move closer. “You asked.”
“Okay, now that she’s here. What did you do, JJ? Where did all this come from?” Pope asked, but we all knew the answer.
“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, ya hear?” JJ laughed, the aviator sunglasses slipping down slightly. His blonde hair slick with water stuck to his forehead as he messily poured champagne into a glass. “Salud!”
Pope let out a noise of disbelief, “How much did this cost?”
“Uh, pretty much all of it.”
I moved around, taking in the inflatable floaties that filled up the yard, while biting the inside of my cheek. He spent all of the money.
“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”
I tuned out their arguing. There was a reason he acted out and bought all of this pointless shit but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He knew. He knew he needed to pay for restitution.
A blanket of dread covered my body like an old blanket as the consequences of JJ’s actions finally settled in. Another sense of dread hit when I knew I wouldn’t leave him.
“You could have paid for restitution or better yet, helped us buy supplies.” Pope said, shaking his head in clear frustration.
They weren’t seeing this for what it was. Something was wrong. Yes, he was reckless and rash but like I said before, most of the time he does those things because something happened.
“Okay Pope. Well, I didn’t do that. I got a hot tub for my friends,” JJ choked out, “I got a hot tub for my friends. Screw that, I got a hot tub for my family.”
“JJ, what the hell?” Kie whispered.
Something in her voice made me turn back around quickly and that’s when I saw it.
JJ stood at the center of the hot tub, one hand clutching the champagne bottle while the other hung loosely at his side. His gold necklace moving back and forth shining under the lights, but that’s not what caught my eye.
What caught my eye was the purple and blue bruises that littered his chest and ribs. A high pitched ringing filled my ears as my body felt like it began to float.
This. This was the reason he spent all the money.
My hand covers my mouth as I let out a choked sound.
Hearing the noise, JJ turns to me, his face entirely shattered, tears causing the crystal blue orbs to shine.
“Do you see what I did? Look what I did for you,” He cried out as he held out his arms, staring at me with such vulnerability I could feel my knees start to buckle.
Tears freely began to fall from my face as I took inventory of just how many bruises covered his body.
“No, stop being so emotional. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”
My feet moved on their own accord. Fully dressed, I threw one leg over then the other ignoring the burning from the heat of the water.
He reached for me the moment my body hit the water just as my arms circled around his neck. JJ curled his body into me, the champagne bottle forgotten, his arms circling around my waist digging into my lower back, clutching me like a life line.
My legs knocked together as the adrenaline and helplessness kicked in. I began counting in my head my breaths because I knew in this moment, I couldn’t afford to break down.
Not when he was broken beyond belief.
My fingers threaded themselves into his sun-kissed locks, brushing from the nape of his neck to the top of his head and back again. I pressed my lips onto his head, not letting my grip loosen for one second.
“I love you.” I murmured over and over again as sobs wracked his body, his head in my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. “I got you, it’s okay. I’m here, Jayj.”
I glanced up helplessly and see Pope and Kie staring at us, both of them clearly distraught.
I beckon them over with a nod in my head and instantly JJ and I are covered in warmth. Their arms wrapping around us both, whispering words of love to him.
We stayed like that until our skin got pruny, not wanting to move until he was ready.
When the time did come, I could tell by the way his grip on my waist loosened and his sobs quieted down. Brushing the hair out of his face, I brought my face close to his, “You ready to get out now?”
JJ nodded.
“Kie, can you set out some of John b’s clothes?” I asked her, moving to get out. She nodded and pope followed her inside.
JJ followed closely behind me. His fingers laced with mine, trembling slightly as the night air bit at our soaked bodies.
Shuffling into the chateau, our friends were sprawled out on the couch with Kie strumming away at the ukulele.
“I left the clothes in the spare.” Pope said, his eyes locked on JJ.
I shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks, Pope.”
Once we were in the room, I shut the door as JJ shimmed out of his shorts. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grabbed the towel from the bed and began to dry him.
I could feel his intense gaze on my face the entire time. Biting back a smile, I whispered, “Can I tell you something?”
“Please.”
“I really like the hot tub.”
JJ tilted his head back and let out a surprised laugh. The sound of his familiar laugh caused a wave of warmth to crash over me, causing a zoo of butterflies to swarm my stomach.
“It is a pretty sick tub, isn’t it?” He smiled.
“It is. Very kooky of you.”
He narrowed his red rimmed eyes at me, “Take that back.”
I couldn’t have his my grin even if I tried.
“JJ the kook? I could see that.”
He sends me a cheeky smile in return. Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, I drag the towel along his shoulders before heading towards his chest. My hand stalled slightly as I saw how angry the bruises were, the hue of the purple and blue causing my stomach to churn.
My head moved carefully as I pressed my lips softly along each bruise, fluttering my eyes shut. I feel familiar rough hands tangling themselves in my hair and he lets out a sharp breath.
Opening my eyes, he tilted my head back with his fingers gripped the nape of my neck. A storm brewed in the crystal blue eyes, flicking between every emotion.
His thumb slowly drew my bottom lip down causing his eyes to darken with each passing second,” Thank you.”
Tremors wracked my body at how close we were, our breaths intertwined filtering into my bloodstream.
JJ shifted forward allowing his lips to softly brush mine. The moment my lips parted, he pressed his again almost like he was inhaling my every breath.
Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine and repeated, “Thank you.”
“I got you. I’ll let you change-“ My words got cut off as he grabbed my arm to stop me in my tracks.
“Stay.”
And so I did.
_______________
I blinked at the alarm clock that read 3 a.m and slowly rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I could hear the sound of the skeeters buzzing outside the chateau and felt a strange sense of calm at the quiet.
Reaching toward the other side of the bed , my hands were met with empty cold sheets. He was gone.
I closed my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath as I willed for this nightmare to go away. We still had a lot to work through, but I thought after last night, he finally understood how fucking in deep I was. I was all in, completely and utterly in love with him. It’s always been him.
Pushing my body up, I slowly bring the sheet up to my chest covering my naked body from the cold. A sharp tinge of fear hit my chest as I noticed a presence at the end of the bed that was quickly replaced with an immense sense of relief.
JJ sat on the edge of the bed with his bare back facing me, his elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. A small smile played my lips as I shuffled over, my hands slowly trailing themselves over his shoulders and pressed my lips softly against his shoulder blade.
“Can’t sleep?”
His shoulders tensed the minute my lips touched his body. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
Confusion filled every fiber of my being as I finally took him in. I could feel the weak stitches that held my heart together suddenly begin to tear.
I opened my mouth and closed it. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared at the side of his face, the face that I spent hours admiring, that refused to even look at me.
“I thought after last night-“
JJ shook his head in disgust and let out a dry breath, roughly tugging at the messy strands on his head.
“We fucked. It’s not like that’s something we’ve never done before. It doesn’t change anything.”
Like I said before, I understand him. I know him and I know exactly what he’s doing. That doesn’t stop every part of me from feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the chest.
“JJ, please don’t do this.” I inhaled a shaky breath as I clutched the sheer tighter to my chest, almost like it was an armor against his cruel words, words that I knew came from a place of panic. Yet, it hurt just the same.
“Do what,” JJ said, getting up from the bed to face me, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “You made it clear what side you were on and it wasn’t mine.”
“Stop twisting what happened. You forget that I know you, JJ. I know you,” I stood on my shaky feet, the sheets wrapped around my body. “You think I dont know why your treating me this way. You’re dad doesn’t decide who you are.”
Desperation burned in my blood as I once again tried to grasp at straws. He was always finding excuses to run from me and each and every time, JJ took a piece of me with him.
“Shut up. I’m not doing this shit with you.”
“You have no idea how special you are do you? How easy you are to love?” It was an honest question, one that seemed to anger him if the clenching of his fists was any indication.
“Stop-“
I cut him off. “Because you are. Special, I mean.”
JJ said nothing. His gaze met mine, and the blue eyes I thought matched the ocean perfectly, showed a battle of emotions.
I took the opportunity to move closer to him, fighting the urge to curl up and cry at the look of utter confusion on his face.
Luke had successfully beat it into him that he was worthless, useless, and would never amount to anything. This, this look on his face was why I stayed.
He didn’t know. He really didn’t know the effect he had on people, on me.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached to touch the bracelets that decorated his wrist. All of them being gifts from me.
“You’re fiercely loyal to the people you love. The family that you chose for yourself. It’s almost frustrating how you don’t see it,” I muttered, tilting my head up to search his eyes. “I mean, fuck JJ, you took the fall for Pope because you didn’t want his future to be ruined. You went to jail and now you’re on probation.”
“Please, stop.” His plead was weak at best.
My fingers danced along his jaw, my voice wavering slightly at the tightness in my chest. “You sat with my everyday during summer school so I wouldn’t be myself. No one does that, JJ. Especially not here.”
He had to know I was telling the truth.
“So please, listen to me when I tell you that loving you has been the easy thing I’ve ever done.”
Despite the immense beating my poor heart has taken, it still beats with a naive sense of hope.
Hope that sky rocketed when JJ reached forward to twirl a strand of my hair in between his fingers, almost as though he was memorizing how it felt.
“Such pretty little words.” He hummed. “How many other guys have you told that too?”
I recoiled back in shock.
“Pretty little words won’t get you anywhere. You wanna fuck, I’m down. But that’s not gonna stop me from mackin’ on other chicks.”
Then he dropped the strand of my hair, along with every hope that he could love me.
I chose to then focus on my anger that slowly began to bubble to the surface.
“Like who? Your gonna start mackin’ on Kie?” I launched the question at him, my voice raising an octave in disbelief.
“Maybe. At least she knows when to leave.”
“Stop talking to me like that,” My voice broke at the end, the burning in my eyes getting too hard to ignore. “You’re hurting me.”
All I could do was stare.
Here I stood, heart bleeding, begging a broken boy to love me back. And maybe that wasn’t fair for me to ask, maybe it was too much but a large part of me thought he felt something. Even if it was a fraction of what I felt for him because at least it was something.
Anything.
“You’re never going to let me love you, are you?” I ignored the sharp stab in my stomach as I finally said the question I already knew the answer to.
JJ’s head snapped up in shock at my question. “I never asked for you to love me.”
“You showed up to my window every night because you didn’t want to go home. You hold my hand, you kiss me, you fuck me. You come to me when you can’t fucking sleep. You sleep in my bed. You teach me to surf and take me everywhere with you. You ask for my advice and god forbid I don’t answer the phone, you have a melt down.” I was shouting at that point, my voice loud enough to wake up our friends who were sleeping in the living room but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“You need me, I’m there. You got arrested, I bail you out. You get in a fight, I clean you up. JJ, you showed up in my life and surrounded me. You’re fucking everywhere. How could you not expect me to fall in love with you when you do these things?”
The laugh I let out was one of a broken girl, one who had completely lost herself in a wave of chaos known as JJ Maybank.
The door was right there. And yet, I couldn't get my feet to move.
“Because I don’t fucking understand it, okay? Because I’ve never had the luxury of someone looking at me the way you do and it makes me physically fucking sick.” JJ took several strides until he was pressed up firmly against me, his fingers threading themselves into the nape of my neck.
“The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m suffocating, don’t you get that? And yet, I can’t fucking thinking straight when you’re not by me.” He choked out, his face was white with panic.
I could feel myself start to crumble at his words. Welcome to the club. “Yesterday, you said I wasn't enough for you.”
JJ nodded, his eyes staring straight into me with such intensity I had to swallow.
“You know why I said it. You know how I get. The way you look at me,” He swears pounding his hand against the wall,” Fuck the way you look at me. You make me feel like I can be a better person, that I have the potential to do something great.”
“Because you can-“
“No I fucking can’t. You give me this hope that I can be better and then something happens to remind me that I can’t and it crushes me. It fucking wrecks me.”
I roughly wiped the tears that blurred my vision and asked, “So what are you saying?”
The silence caused the anticipation of his answer to intensify, making breathing almost impossible.
“Sometimes, being with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering for the last time.
“Then you have to let me go.”
He shook his head,”Thats not what I want.”
“Let me go, JJ. If not for you, then for me because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You haven’t even been able to say it back. You completely own me, every thought I have is about you.”
“You own ME.” JJ shouted, his hands in his hair tugging it in anger. “And it completely terrifies me and then I say the first thing I can to make the fear go away just so I can get a moment of peace. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
In a way, I couldn’t really be angry with him.
No one’s every really described just how dangerous loving someone can be. How they consume every part of you until there’s nothing left. Until suddenly, you can only breathe when you’re around them. When your very mood depends on the expression of their face. The pure feeling of ecstasy that covers your body in a layer of electricity the moment you’re around them and they look at you.
“You love me,” At my words, JJ looked almost relieved, like he finally understood why he felt so many things at once,” but you can’t let yourself love me.”
And yet, despite this revelation, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.
A tortured look passed his face as he pressed his back against the wall and slowly slid down.
“You need to let me go because I love you to the point that I cant bring myself to leave. So if you don’t want me, if you can’t be with me then do this for me. If you don’t, I’m going to keep giving you every piece of me until there’s nothing left. “
I guess you never truly understand until it happens. Until you get physically ill when they’re upset or filled with warmth when you see them tilt their head back and laugh. When you see them and suddenly the world is just a little less overwhelming, bearable even.
When every fiber of your being is tuned into one person.
Gripping the sheet tighter, I moved in between his legs and settle myself on the floor. The moment I did, JJ engulfed me in his embrace. His presence soaked through my skin leaving the intoxicated feeling in its wake.
“I can’t,” He shook his head fervently, “ I can’t do that.”
I understood him, because I couldn’t either.
“What are we going to do, Jayj?”
JJ pressed his face against my throat, “I don’t know.”
We weren’t okay, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nothing had been solved and yet, we sat on the floor wrapped in each others embrace.
So I said the only thing I knew to be true and give him yet another piece of me, “I love you.”
“I know.”
There we were. Two souls irrevocably intertwined in a mass of love and hate that were broken beyond recognition. Neither of us being able to leave the other.
And yet, all I could focus on was his inability to say he loved me back.
_____________________
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I’m an anarchocommunist that thinks a lot of other anarchists are stupid. For example, I don’t think that most people will just make insulin or do garbage collection/processing out of the kindness of their heart, and I also don’t think if it was genuinely done out of the kindness of their hearts that it’d work great. My idea is that for the “getting people to do the shitty jobs” question, the people that do those jobs should be compensated better in some way. Maybe a larger/nicer house, I’m not sure on the details. But other anarchists will say “all labor is equal”, and while I’d like to agree in the “work is hard” sense, I think things for the obvious common good, like teacher or garbage man or doctor deserve some sort of reward over other jobs. And for the efficiency of the labor, I think *specifically for labor* there needs to be some sort of organization, and we can use what’s worked before. We don’t need to have bathtub insulin if there’s a factory right there, and if there’s no connection from the insulin factory to doctors/pharmacists and truck drivers then it won’t work either. Really, my main problem with Marxism/Leninism or Stalinism or Maoism or any combination of those is that there are specific people with far too much power over others. I’m ok with light power in the way of “man you gotta drive the firetruck to the burning building even though you hate the dude that lives there”, but I’m not ok with the idea of a supreme leader or representatives in a political sense due to as I’ve amounts of power obviously corrupting people.
Really I’m sending this to you to get your criticism of my ideas- I think you’re pretty smart, and even if I disagree with you on some issues, I think I agree with you on others. I also want to say that not all anarchists are… like that.
So, years ago, before I started reading any Marxist theory, this is about where I was at politically. If you think about any of the practicalities, you come up to points where, very clearly, the maxim of 'no authority at all' conflicts with being able to do anything. If you're seriously considering how society could be better organised, if this is something you actually intend on bringing about, then you make some amount of concession to reality - as you did with the firetruck example!
Now, myself, I went on like this for a good while, coming up with methods of truly democratic organisation that wouldn't be susceptible to the types of totalitarianism I'd heard about, ending up very similar to your position. I was interested, however, in how these 'failed experiments' that I'd learned devolved into bureaucracy started out, and I started reading up on the history, and realised, with some discontent, that what I'd developed, once I'd made all the concessions for reality that would be necessary if this system were to be the actual one real human beings lives depended on, was essentially identical to the Soviet system.
From there, I read up on Marxist theory, still basically wary that this had all, at some point, been taken over by an evil dictator, but able to see that the earliest stages, at least, had been exactly what I was imagining, but put into practice. Reading the theory, reading how their experience experimenting with different forms of organisation, and the failures of some types, had led them to discover what did and didn't work, and adjust accordingly, made me suddenly appreciate why certain things were done certain ways. The harsh experiences of civil war had revealed certain dynamics and mechanics in the way society and production worked, which translates into political theories that bore out results I wouldn't have expected (and neither had the communists who had discovered them through practice!).
Eventually, with some chagrin and a significant deal of excitement, I realised that much of what I'd passively absorbed about socialism, many of the common-sense maxims that I'd been taught by capitalist society about the nature of power and so on, were very much artifacts of a decades-long war against these communists and the system they'd built, carried out by exactly the corporations and empires I had thought myself opposed to.
I won't critique any individual point of yours, but I will enjoin you to try out some Marxist theory - Dialectical and Historical Materialism, or Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, or Principles of Communism, or even the Communist Manifesto, and to read between the lines of whatever capitalist source you read on socialism, to notice every [citation needed] and wonder what actually happened such that someone felt the need to make something up.
#when it comes to marxist theory I don't understand it fully on first read at all.#often I'll go on to read something else and come back to it with that new text in mind - and come to a much better understanding of both#so if you do take my advice I'd ask you to bear with the text even if it seems impenetrable or transparent
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Words: 4,988 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, innuendo (duh, it's Negan), injury, fear and anxiety, frightening scenarios Summary: Returning after the run, Daryl gives Negan a talking to and things between Negan and the reader seem like they may have changed. A/N: oh shit, oh sHIT, OH SHIT Previous part
“Well, here we are again,” you sighed, tugging open the door of Negan’s cell.
“Home, sweet home,” he quipped, staring inside. He rubbed a hand over his short hair briefly, hesitating only for a moment before he stepped inside and turned to stand in the space where the door would soon close. “Can’t exactly say I’m glad to be back.”
You had your own mixed feelings again as you shut the door and the thunk of the heavy metal latch slid into place, securely locking him inside. What would be required for him to truly earn the next step of more freedom? He’d stayed when he could have run. Surely that was something, but uncertainty churned in your stomach. You paused, one of your hands coming to grip one of the bars. You could almost taste the tension like smoke in the air. “I—I just wanted to say—”
“—that you had a fucking amazing time out there with me and you’re completely heartbroken to see it end?” he interrupted, smiling at you. “Oh, and you regret not jumpin’ my bones while you had the chance, of course.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling a little yourself. “I wanted to say thank you. I’m fully aware that the entire situation could’ve been—you could’ve made it much worse. You could’ve left. Hell, you could’ve probably killed me if you wanted to…”
Negan’s expression grew serious. “Like I said before, I don’t want to hurt you. And I have no intention of doing so.”
“Negan, if it came down to me or your freedom—”
“I wouldn’t,” he said strongly. “I already chose to stay, didn’t I? I’m—not even entirely sure why myself,” he laughed dryly. “Might regret that when I’m staring at these same four fuckin’ walls again in a few minutes.”
You felt your cheeks warm with an inexplicable flush again and you had to break the gaze between the two of you. “Well,” you said, dropping your grip on the bar, “thank you, Negan.”
He couldn’t help smiling when you said his name and he leaned forward on the bars now himself at the same moment you drew back. “Have I told you that I love the sound of my name leaving your lips, darlin’? Say it again,” he grinned. “I’m gonna imagine all kinds of scenarios in my head where you’re sayin’ my name as soon as you’re out of here…”
“Stop,” you reprimanded him.
“Aw, come on! You’ve gotta give me a little play here. Was I not a total gentleman on the outside? I kept my hands completely to myself on our dinner date.”
“Dinner date? That’s what you’re going to call heating up MREs while we were trapped in a basement with a mummified dead guy?”
He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face, chuckling a little. “Yeah! It seems pretty on-brand for the apocalypse. And by the way—don’t think I wasn’t tempted to get a little handsy. You were wearing my spare layer after all, and it’s only natural that I thought about what it’d be like to take it off of you and keep going.”
“Enough, Negan!” you snapped, completely aware that your face had to be bright red from the feeling of the heat washing over you. “Jesus!”
“Too far?” he asked, still grinning.
You ignored him. “Daryl is gonna bring you lunch.”
“Daryl? Wait—why?”
You were already heading toward the door but you turned to look back at him, continuing your progress out with a few backwards steps. You shrugged. “Dunno. He said he wanted a word with you.”
Negan swore under his breath. “Shit… He’s probably gonna give me another lecture.”
You smiled and shrugged. “Probably. I’d behave if I were you, if you ever hope to see four different walls again. I’ll see you this evening.”
“Hey! Wait!” he called after you once more as your hand was on the door. “You should go get that hand looked at. Even if they can’t stitch it, you should make sure it’s not infected! I mean look at the state of the bandage, doll.”
You did glance down at it and it was grey with dirt and dust. “Yeah, alright. I will. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”
It wasn’t long before Daryl came thudding into the room with a tray for Negan. Negan looked up from his seat on his cot and rested his book (one of the ones you’d brought for him) over his knee.
The archer put the tray down and kicked it through the slot a little abruptly, sloshing some of the water out of the cup. Negan cast his eyes up toward Daryl’s scowl. He saw the muscle in his jaw tense. He couldn’t help smiling at him. “Problem?” he asked.
“Might be,” Daryl drawled, crossing his arms, “if ya ain’t careful.”
“Oh, I’m always careful, Daryl,” Negan said, leaning back as if at his ease.
“I saw the way ya were lookin’ at Y/N out there today.”
The smile on Negan’s face faded slowly. “How was I looking?”
“You know how and I know how,” Daryl growled, pointing at him emphatically through the bars.
Negan shrugged and tried to play it off, but his heart was hammering nervously in his chest.
“I dunno what happened out there or what you think is happenin’ with Y/N, but ya better watch yerself, asswipe. If I hear of the slightest thing that’s off, if I suspect any of this ‘good behavior’ shit is an act, tha’s it. It’ll be the end of all your free time outside of these bars. Ya can rot in here for all I care. Ain’t like ya dun deserve to. And if I find out that yer tryin’ to pull some bullshit over on Y/N, if yer tryin’ to manipulate yer way outta this cell—I’ll kill ya myself.” His blue eyes were fierce and sharp and Negan gulped uneasily beneath them.
“Daryl—”
“Nah,” he snapped. “I dun give a shit about a thing ya gotta say. ‘M just warnin’ ya, Negan. Got it?”
Negan licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Oh, I’ve got it hotrod,” he said, following it up with a smirk, just to annoy Daryl.
“Good.” And he stalked out.
The day got away from you, mainly from sorting through the supplies, helping with the rationing, and getting yourself cleaned up after the long ordeal outside the walls and a little better rested. It was already evening before you remembered you’d meant to stop into the clinic about your hand. Anyone in the clinic surely would have left for the night already, and since it wasn’t a pressing issue, you decided instead to change the dressing yourself and check in with Siddiq in the morning.
Instead, you got a tray of food ready and headed back down the dim street toward the jail. When the door swung open you saw Negan standing at the small window of his cell, trying to perhaps soak in the last bit of light as the sun went down. He had his small lantern lit already and it cast everything in a warm orange glow. He turned at the sound of your footsteps and greeted you with a small smile before ambling over toward the cell door, hands in his pockets.
“You alright?” you asked, sensing something in the air.
“Peachy, doll,” he said. “Daryl and I had a swell chat earlier.”
You sighed heavily and gave him an apologetic look. “I hope he wasn’t too tough on you. I told him you were a huge help outside the walls.”
“Oh, he just threatened to kill me again is all,” Negan said, sinking down on the floor close to the door, fiddling with the empty water cup on the tray. “No big deal.”
You set his full dinner tray down on the chair beside you and copied his position on the floor outside the bars. “He’s—just protective. We’ve been through a lot together.”
Negan chuckled. “Protective is an understatement,” he said, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, leaning back with his palms on the cold floor. “I can’t blame him though. A guy like me with a history like mine? I probably deserve more than a little threatening.”
You gulped, feeling torn about agreeing with him or not, so you stayed silent. That divided feeling that sat somewhere deep in your chest was becoming familiar. There was a beat of silence and Negan could read worry on your face. He wanted to pull you out of it.
“Hey—you look great, doll,” he said softly. It was almost a whisper.
You glanced up at him, one of your eyebrows arching up in a question. Then you glanced down at yourself and laughed. “I showered and changed into clean clothes. It’s not like I’m in a ballgown, Negan.”
“You don’t need to be. I’d take you covered in walker guts if the opportunity presented itself,” he said with a grin.
You winced. “Gross,” you retorted. “I think you have issues.”
“Unequivocally,” he agreed. “Doesn’t mean what I said isn’t true.”
You shook your head and sighed a little. Over his shoulder, you noticed the book sitting open on his cot. “Which one did you go for?” you asked, nodding toward it.
“Oh, the western, of course. Cowboys and damsels in distress? Shoot-outs? ‘This town ain’t big enough for the both of us?’ Fuck yeah,” he said, glancing back at you, still smiling. “Thanks again, for bringing me those by the way. It’s a big improvement over the one I’ve read fifteen fuckin’ times.”
You hated that you noticed the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled and the deep dimples in his cheeks, nearly hidden in the scruff of his beard. You ducked your head, nodding and trying to clear your throat of the inexplicable tightness that had materialized there. “No problem.” Your eyes landed again on the lunch tray sitting by the slot. You were about to reach for it when you caught sight of the pebbly red shapes still on the plate. You frowned. “You didn’t touch your raspberries,” you said, nodding toward the tray in front of Negan.
“Yeah, actually, I saved them for you,” he said, nodding toward them. “You said they’re your favorite and since the crop was bad this year from the drought... you should have them. You deserve them more than me.” He nudged his tray slightly back toward the slot so you’d be able to reach them if you slipped your hand through.
You looked at him curiously for a moment, a little surprised by this particular consideration, and then reached your hand through to grab one. Before your fingers could touch the ruby red fruit, you let out a small gasp of surprise as Negan’s hand closed softly around yours. He hadn’t moved quickly. On the contrary, it was slow and fluid but you were somehow still shocked by the sudden contact. His touch was warm and gentle. His thumb smoothed over the back of your hand and slipped underneath to your palm. He turned your hand palm up so it rested in his and his thumb traced the lines from your wrist up toward your fingertips then drifted back down and pressed lightly into the concave center of your palm and ghosted up the graceful shape of your thumb. You were frozen, stunned by his touch, your lips slightly parted and your eyes a little wide, a little hesitant and questioning. You felt as if your heart had stopped and your lungs refused to work. You were finally able to tear your eyes from your hand in his, back up to meet his gaze. His expression, his hazel eyes were astonishingly soft.
“‘M sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to startle you. I couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, drawing his hand back from yours. His eyes searched yours, trying to read what you were thinking. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since I bandaged up that other hand of yours. You have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve really had any human touch?” Your hand hovered in the air for a moment once his fingers left, and Negan picked up the remaining berries and dropped them into your palm. Your skin was still tingling from the contact and you couldn’t be sure if your heart was beating or not.
You blinked, trying to break whatever spell had settled over you, and then hurriedly grabbed his empty tray and got to your feet, nearly stumbling back from the bars.
Negan rose slowly, watching you carefully, suddenly anxious. “You alright, doll? Was that—”
“I’m fine,” you cut him off quickly. “I just—I should go,” you said hastily. You grabbed the tray with his evening meal off the chair beside you and pushed it through the slot where it hit the toes of Negan’s boots.
He nodded, his eyes narrowed as he tried to read what was going on in your head. “Okay. Hey—before you go, what’d the doc say about your sliced up hand anyway?”
“Oh, uhh—I didn’t get over there today. Just—got busy. I’ll go by in the morning,” you said, already backing out toward the door.
Negan nodded. You looked half-frantic and he felt another pang of anxiety. Perhaps that had been too much… “Y/N—Look, I’m sorry if that was—”
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m fine! It’s all fine,” you said hurriedly, your heart racing now. You felt slightly light-headed.
“Are you sure? Because I think you turned those raspberries into jam,” Negan said, glancing down at your hand and there was red juice dripping out between your fingers and dotting the floor. In the low light, you could’ve mistaken it for blood.
“Shit,” you swore, looking at the remnants in your hand. “Fuck me, what a mess… I—I’ll clean that up… later.”
Negan watched, perplexed and worried as you hurriedly left without another word, his brow furrowed heavily over his hazel eyes. Fuck. Had he royally fucked up? Maybe he’d be seeing Daryl sooner rather than later…
_ _ _ _ _ _
You’d hardly slept. You were overwhelmed by what you’d felt when Negan had simply held your hand in his, had run his fingers over the underside of your wrist and across the back of your hand. Your stomach was churning and you were unsettled all night, tossing and turning on your mattress and staring up at the ceiling watching the shadows change while sleep evaded you.
Fuck. This was a mess. What the fuck were you thinking? No—better question: what the fuck were you feeling? This was Negan. The man who had psychologically tormented your entire group, who had wielded the bat and murdered two of your beloved family members in front of you, who had tortured Daryl and nearly starved your community, who had ordered his men to shoot your people with poisoned arrowd.
But another voice answered. He’s not the same though, is he? He’s not him. Not anymore. You know he’s different.
It doesn’t matter. He still did all those things.
It does matter. Or do you not believe in redemption? In rehabilitation? In hope? If there’s no chance of redemption, shouldn’t you all have just killed him after the war? Why keep him alive now if there’s no future for him even if he is changed?
Fuck!
You kicked the covers off and rubbed your hands over your face as you sat up on the edge of the bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You looked down at the bandage on your hand and remembered his concern outside the walls, not just for himself but for you. And he stayed. Surely that meant something.
Fuck.
You headed into the bathroom and poured some water into the basin, splashing it as best you could over your face with your uninjured hand. Better just start the day. Sleep wasn’t coming. You just needed to put what you felt, whatever that was that you felt, aside and do your job. Compartmentalize. You could do that. Right? You were wracked with self-doubt. Maybe you should stop before this went any farther… Maybe you should go back to Michonne and Daryl and tell them—tell them… what? That you somehow were developing feelings for Negan? Fuck. No. No, you couldn’t do that. You could handle this. It wasn’t a big deal. It was one touch. You could compartmentalize. It’d all be fine…
Your train of thought was interrupted by a throbbing in your injured hand and you were grateful it gave you something else to focus on. Right. You’d better get it checked out. You pulled on some clothes and headed for the clinic.
The door was unlocked, which was a good sign that at least someone was in. You heard movement from the back as you walked in and Dante called out, “I’ll be right there!” from somewhere among the supply shelves.
You paced around for a moment and finally settled against a nearby exam table. He came breezing out in his white coat with a clipboard in his hand and greeted you with a smile.
“Sorry about that! Inventory, you know? Still my least favorite chore, but pretty important nowadays. So, what brings you in?”
“Oh, um, is Siddiq here by chance?” you asked. You knew Siddiq well from the council and generally were more comfortable with him.
Dante clicked his tongue. “He’s not in yet. Between the two of us, I’m the earlier riser so I usually come in first. Must be left over from my time in the military,” he explained with a good-natured smile. “If you’d like to come back later today, he’ll be in for sure. Otherwise, I’m happy to help now if you’re comfortable with that.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s no big deal. We’re just close from the council and everything. Thought I’d say hi. I’d rather just get it looked at, I guess. It’s just this gash on my hand from the run the other day and I just figured I should get it checked out and make sure it’s not infected or anything.”
“Alright,” he said, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. “Let’s take a look.” You started to unwrap the bandage as he set out a few items. “What’d you cut it on?” he asked.
“A sharp corner or something on a metal bracket,” you said.
“Oof,” he said, peeling off the last bit of gauze as the injury came into view. “Got yourself pretty good there! Well, let’s clean it up and have a look. This may sting a bit.”
“We flushed it out and cleaned it after it happened. It did take a while for it to stop bleeding. I was worried it'd need stitches.”
“I’m not surprised! It’s pretty deep!” he said, tossing aside the used alcohol swabs. “Any pain still? I mean, when you aren’t bumping it or trying to use this hand?” he asked, giving you a knowing look.
You shrugged. “Maybe a bit. It’s throbbing a little this morning. It’s not infected, is it?”
He examined it more closely and finally sighed and shook his head. “I don't think you have an infection, no, but it does look a little inflamed and irritated. You should be taking it easy with this,” he instructed you. “Try to limit use while it’s healing. And I’m gonna give you some anti-inflammatory pain meds that should help with any discomfort and the swelling—”
“Oh, no. Really, it’s not bad. I’m fine,” you tried to argue.
He smiled and shook his head. “Always having to act like a badass, Y/N. You and Daryl! Never taking medical advice,” he laughed. “Come on. Doctor’s orders,” he said. “I’ll be right back with them. Trust me. It’ll help.” He returned quickly with a cup of water and a couple pills for you.
You relented, seeing that he was going to insist, and took them before he re-dressed your hand.
“Big plans today?” he asked, skillfully finishing the bandaging with clean dressings.
You shook your head. “No. The usual. I need to head over to get Negan’s breakfast to him.”
“Good. That shouldn’t be too strenuous on the hand,” he laughed. “Alright. All finished up. Do you want me to let Siddiq know you were looking for him?” he asked, pulling off his gloves.
You waved him off. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other soon. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. And I mean it, take it easy with that hand! Let it heal up! Come back and see me if you have any more problems.” You waved goodbye to Dante and thanked him once more before you left. Alexandria was just starting to wake up, and you headed to grab a few things from the pantry and prepared something to take down to Negan. You wondered if he was even awake yet. He hadn’t slept while you’d been outside the walls. He might be sleeping still. Maybe you should wait… The sun was just streaking the morning sky with pinks and oranges. Your stomach flipped as you again thought of what had happened last night and you did your best to swallow down your anxiety. Were you just trying to postpone seeing him? You groaned internally at yourself.
Fuck it. What did it matter if he was awake or not? You had his damn breakfast ready you might as well just drop it off.
You unlocked the outside door and pushed inside. Turns out, he was already awake, laying on his back on his cot and bouncing a tennis ball off the wall and catching it on the rebound. He sat up hastily as you came in and looked at you hesitantly, like he was trying to read your expression carefully.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi,” you returned. You set the full tray down on the chair outside his cell and retrieved the one sitting empty from the night before. Negan got up and slowly wandered toward the bars, tossing the tennis ball back and forth between his hands. You swapped out the empty tray for the one with his breakfast on it and straightened up, surprised to see him maybe a little over a mere foot from you, separated only by the bars. His eyes were flickering over your face and his expression was heavy and serious. You cleared your throat and gulped. “What?” you asked nervously.
“I just wanted to say—about last night—”
You lifted a hand to cut him off. “Negan—”
“—if that was too much or too sudden or—I’m sorry if—”
“Negan, let’s just forget about it,” you said, crossing your arms and avoiding his brilliantly hazel eyes.
He stopped trying to talk over you and licked his lips, pursing them thoughtfully for a moment. Your posture was guarded, but he forged ahead anyway. “Is that what you want? To forget about it?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Is that what you want?” he asked again.
Just answer. Why couldn’t you get the answer out. Just say ‘yes.’ “I—”
His eyes were still flickering between yours and then journeying down to your lips. Your heart started to pound in your chest. “It’s just a simple question, doll. If that’s what you want—” he shrugged, “then we’ll forget about it.”
You were trying to answer, trying to dredge up a response when you suddenly felt dizzy and lifted a hand to your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt sick. You felt off. Something wasn’t right.
“…Doll?”
You reached out to grip one of the bars of Negan’s cell to steady yourself. It felt like the floor was slanting.
“Hey, hey—look at me, darlin’. What’s going on?”
You shook your head in an attempt to clear the growing fog. “I—I don’t know. I feel—dizzy and—”
Negan’s alarm increased as all the color seemed to drain from your face in an instant. “Hey, why don’t you sit down? You don’t look so good. Y/N? Can you hear me?”
Negan’s voice sounded like it was coming out of a drain in another room. It was warped and muffled and your equilibrium seemed to have all but disappeared. You were having a hard time keeping your eyes open and staying on your feet. The whole room was tilting.
“Hey! Y/N? Talk to me! Can you hear me? Sit down! You look like you’re about to faint! Look at me, darlin’!”
But Negan watched with horror as your body suddenly went limp and you pitched forward. He did what he could to try to stop your fall through the bars, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was in no position to be able to support you as you fell. Despite his best efforts, your head collided with a bar near the bottom of his cell and then you lay still on your stomach, crumpled on the floor.
“Oh, fuck! Shit! Y/N?” Negan shoved his tray out of the way and knelt down, reaching through the bars to caress your hair away from your face and lightly pat your cheek in an attempt to rouse you. “Y/N, you’ve gotta wake up, doll! Come on! Wake up! Open those beautiful eyes and look at me!” He gently lifted your head and his stomach clenched as he saw blood running down the side of your face and dripping onto the floor. “Open your eyes, darlin’! Look at me! Come on!” There was no response from you, no sign that you could hear him or were at all coming back to consciousness. “Fuck! Fuck!!” he growled, panicked, looking around for something to help—but how could he? He was locked in a fucking cell.
That’s it! Keys! You had to have your keys! Maybe he could get them and get out and help you—get you to help. He was about to start patting your pockets when he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye sitting on the seat of the chair outside his cell, well out of reach.
“Fuck!” He hung his head, his mind spinning frantically. “Y/N? Come on, you’ve gotta wake up!” He gently shook you by your shoulder, but still, you didn’t rouse. He trained his eyes on your back and could at least see that your breathing seemed steady, if a little shallow. He was afraid to move you too much. He rushed to the small window. “HEY! HELP! WE NEED HELP IN HERE!” he roared as loud as he could, banging on the glass, but unless someone happened to walk by, there was little hope of anyone hearing him through the thick pane. The window was shut and locked up tightly. “FUCK!”
“Okay… Okay,” he breathed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Keys. I have to get the keys… what can I—what can I use?” He stood and searched his cell. He had nothing. He had nothing that could reach… He needed something long enough to reach the chair and it wasn’t like he had a walking stick or wire hangers or even a goddamn belt in his cell. His eyes finally settled on his cot. He quickly snatched the wool blanket off the top and ran back to the bars. He extended his arm out between two of the bars as far as he could and flipped the blanket up onto the seat of the chair. It landed on his empty evening tray which you’d set aside there. He pulled back slowly and the tray moved slightly before the blanket slid off. The keys were still sitting behind the tray near the back edge of the seat. He had to be careful not to knock them off the back… if he did, it’d be completely hopeless.
He tried again with the blanket, frantically. And again. And again. And, finally, the tray fell to the floor with a clatter, but your heavy ring of keys was sitting stubbornly still.
He constantly stopped and checked on you, called your name, smoothed his hand over your hair, and tried to wake you. But you stayed totally still, unconscious. He grabbed another blanket off his bed and cushioned your head but was too afraid to try to move you much more.
He returned to the wool blanket and had just flicked it onto the chair again when the outside door pushed in. Negan froze and looked up at the figure that had just entered. At first, he felt a wash of relief. “Hey—doc! You’ve gotta help her. She just collapsed—fainted or something,” he said, straightening up. “It wasn’t me, I swear. I don't know what the hell happened.” He dropped his blanket by his side and gripped onto the bars, his voice and expression urgent.
But Dante didn’t rush into action. Instead, he stared down at your crumpled figure on the floor and then casually checked the time on his watch. Negan looked on, confused, as Dante smiled.
“What the hell are you doing?” Negan demanded. "You're suppose to help her!"
“She’s right on time,” Dante said, casually pacing forward to stand over you.
Negan’s teeth clenched together. “Aren’t you going to help her?!” he asked, incredulous.
Dante only laughed, a chilling sound, and walked over to the chair, scooping up your ring of keys off the seat. “Were you trying for these?” he asked, jingling them at Negan.
Negan stared back, a heavy shadow falling over his face. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I was.”
#negan angst#negan smith#negan imagines#negan drabbles#wicked wednesday#negan smith x reader#negan smith x you#negan x y/n#negan fics#the walking dead#negan twd
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It’s such a mind-fuck, seeing Rod’s dad — Mr.Smith — all big and pregnant. That man’s been like a second father to me, pretty much my whole life. I mean, I still remember the days when he’d pick me up from elementary school, and drop me off at my house. He watched me grow up.
All these years of me being best friends with his son, hanging around at their house… and, after the better part of a decade, I never would’ve thought that I’d ever see Mr.Smith pregnant.
Seems like just yesterday when he caught me sneaking back into Rod’s bedroom, after I’d given myself that pre-performance pep talk in the guest bathroom. It was the middle of the night, and Rod and I thought that everyone in the house was asleep. That’s what we were counting on.
His older sister had finally turned off her Bluetooth speaker, his parents were in their room, and his brother was away for the night. Everyone was where they needed to be, and Rod and I were about to… you know… do what all guy friends do, at some point or another. We assumed that we were in the clear — ready to try things out, for the very first time — but we were so wrong.
Little did I know that his dad was coming down the hall, on the way to take his mid-night pee. The one time that Me.Smith ever spotted me in the hallway at night — looking shady in my plaid underpants — and I was fully erect, holding a long sleeve of condoms in my hands. That was just my luck.
I still remember the look in his eyes when he dragged me by my ear into the den, and accused me of having ill intentions with with Rod. His pupils were almost glowing with anger as he whisper-scolded me. Rod’s dad told me that it was normal for guys our age to explore each other’s bodies, and that, whatever I was planning on doing to his son, I was going to have to do it to him first… without using a condom.
I don’t think I’ve never been more afraid in my life, than I was then. There I was, bending Mr.Smith over the back of the couch, and pushing his filthy tightly-whitey’s down to his thighs, all while trying avoid making too much noise. I guess he thought that it’d teach me a lesson… that topping him would get my dick to shrivel up and become a limp, useless flap of meat… but, he couldn’t have been more wrong. I mean, it was weird, dominating the only man in my life — other than my father — who’d ever taken me out for ice cream after my little league baseball games… but I was too scared to question how I felt about it.
Seeing the state of Mr.Smith now, I don’t know what’s worse — the fact that Rod’s about to have an unwanted sibling soon, after being the youngest child for eighteen years… or the fact that we’re dating now, and he has no clue that I’m the one who got his dad knocked up in the first place. Hopefully, the baby doesn’t look too much like me.
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black lace lingerie
content: not sfw + this entire fic is just a trip to pound town <3 + oral (m receiving) + f!reader + reader wears a lingerie + established relationship + c0ckwarming + bonten sanzu so he has blue eyes hehe
—
Sanzu was dressed in black suit pants with his white shirt tucked in, leaning back against the headboard on the bed. You told him to sit there and wait because you wanna show him his gift. And when you do, he sits up straighter seeing you dressed in a black lace lingerie. You take small steps towards him to the bed.
He asks you to twirl and when you do, he sees it’s a backless one. He glances down to your chest, seeing it nicely tucked in the lingerie, your nipples protruding. He continues looking further down, seeing you clad in lace panties.
You see how his pants seem to tighten. And he adjusts himself on the bed. Leaning back away from the headboard to sit on the edge of the bed, he gently pulls you between his thighs by the back of your thighs. He softly travels his hands down your back, fingers tips ghosting over your skin. He is admiring the beauty in front of him. You sight in content at his touch and let out a soft gasp when his hands reach your backside, softly giving it a squeeze.
“So pretty, is it all for me?” His voice is low and breathless. You lightly nod your head, reaching your hands to put them on his shoulders. “So pretty.” He whispers to himself, his pink eyes all over your body.
Then you get down on your knees, your hands trailing down his chest along as you do so. You hear his breath hitch and he lets out a low moan when you put your hands over his erection, he’s stiff and hard, you can see the outline through the fabric of his pants. You unzip his pants, slightly smiling to yourself on the fact he’s not wearing a belt. You smile to yourself thinking it’d be faster to unzip him. As you unzipped the belt, you feel his stiff cock even more through his underwear. And you crane your head down, hearing him let out an unrestrained groan when you place your lips atop his clothed erection.
You look up at him, seeing his face flushed in heat and him breathing heavily. He throws his head back, biting down on his lower lip when you lick him through the fabric, grasping onto your hair, his fingers curling into it. You suck and lick his clothed cock, you reach your hands out to touch it and softly stroking it through the material. As you do, you see the tip twitch out of the fabric, precum leaking out. You lick the tip tentatively and moan at the taste as his grasp on your hair tightens.
“No more, I can feel myself come already.” He’s saying between pants and you pout. “But I wanna taste you some more.” You say, pulling his underwear down, taking his tip proper in your mouth. He gasps at the touch and bucked his hips, sliding almost all his size into your mouth. You feel tears from in your eyes at his sheer girth, you feel him pull your head up by your hair, his cock still in your mouth. He runs his tongue over his lip, brushing against his scars at the sight before speaking out.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gently says, breathlessly. You shake your head and with that, it sends sensations down his body and he bucks his entire cock into your mouth, you almost gag on it before hollowing your cheeks out, flattening your tongue before licking him whole. He tosses his head back when you bop your head down his length, sucking on his tip, before licking the girth.
His moans and groans music to your ears, you moan against his cock as you reach your hands down to touch yourself. Rubbing your hands over your clothed clit, you barely managed to get in a few rubs before he pulls out of you and makes you stand up, his cock leaving your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.
“I’d rather come inside you, yeah? Is it alright, doll?” Sanzu says as he pulls down the straps of your lingerie. You let out a slight nod at his words and he smiles proudly up at you. “That’s my good girl.” He says before pulling your lingerie down to your hips, letting it fall around your lap.
He leans his head in, seeing your pretty tits, so cute and small in his his large hands, he gives your nipple a lick and you gasp at the touch. Immediately reaching your hand out to grasp onto his hair. He chuckles at your reaction before licking your other nipple the same way. You pout at his obvious teasing, he looks at you with mischief in his eyes before going to work properly. He takes your pretty nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as he licks it with the tip of his tongue. You moan at how his ministrations on your breasts feel like. Sending lightings down your body. Then he gives your other tit the same attention, you pull his face against your chest closer, he sucks and nips on your nipple harder, leaving it with a pop and his saliva on your skin. He looks up at you, his face at your bare chest, you look down before he places gentle kisses on your cleavage, kissing your breasts, the underside of them before moving up while wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you onto his lap.
You whimper out at the feeling of his cock grazing your clothed clit, you roll your hips against him as a grunt leaves his mouth while peppering kisses up your neck. Then he takes your mouth in a passionate frenzied kiss. His hands trail down your bare back as he helps you move your hips against him.
You whine when you clench down on nothing, murmuring words of ‘i need you right now’ against his mouth and he coos at you telling you to be good girl. You pout as he nips on your lower lip. You reach your hands down to pull his cock out and he grins at you.
“Needy girl, so impatient to have me inside you huh?” He teases as you feel your tears well up. He croons at your reaction. “Aw sweet doll, I’m gonna fill you up in a second okay? Hmm?” He softly tells you and you nod your head, anticipation clear as day on your face. Then you feel his hand over yours that’s holding his girth and he pulls your panties aside, before sliding slowly inside you. Your head falls forward on his shoulder at the intrusion as he groans at how tight you are around him.
He murmurs words of that you can take it, such a good girl, continuously praising you in that voice of his that you love. You nod your head against his shoulder, agreeing with him. Then he bucked his lips into you, entering you fully. And you bite down on his shoulder, he winces at the sting and lays back on the bed, letting you adjust to him. He holds your hips sweetly like you’re made of porcelain and when you’ve adjusted, you tentatively roll your hips and breathy moans slips past your lips as you fall hands forward on his chest, fisting his white shirt in your hands. His hands moves from your hips to your ass, kneading the skin as he rolls you against him.
“Feels so good .” You let out a pleased moan and he smiles at you, you lean your face down to kiss his lips. As you do, he hammers into your cunt and you gasp while falling forward onto him, gripping onto his hair.
“Still feel good, my sweet girl?” He asks as he ruts into you like a man starved. You nod your head quickly. “You’re so big, I feel full.” You manage to say between your sweet cries as he thrusts into you. He chuckles by your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
The sounds of him thrusting against you, skin against skin and your filthy noises is the only thing heard in the room. He groans when he feels you clench down around his cock, he knows you’re close even before you mumble it to him, telling you ‘i know, I know you can come for me like a good girl you are.’ And through his praise alone, you feel the pressure in your abdomen disintegrate and you come, your thighs tightening beside his body. He keeps thrusting into you and his last ones were sharp and kisses your sweet sweet spot inside you before he fills you up, spurting ropes of come and he lets out a low, rough groan as he reached his release.
He shifts his body further up the bed, rests his head on the pillow as you sit up on his lap, his cock still inside you. He holds you warmly by your hips, looking down where you two are joined at the hips. His and your come formed a ring shape at the base, and when he sees you trail your fingers down your stomach to your clit, you feel him twitch inside you. You lightly smile at his quick virility. He adjusts his body on the bed, which in turn makes him slightly move inside you and you moan at the action.
“No more.” You pout and he pouts back. “I still want more of you.” Sanzu says as he rubs circles on your hips. You move your body so he is hovering over you and you cup his face gently.
“I know.” You simply say and he raises a brow at your two words. “You know?” He repeats and you hum in reply, mischief dancing in your eyes and he grins at you. “You little tease.” He says as he pulls out of you, his cock laying stiff and hard on your abdomen while he’s watching how drops of come slips out. He clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction.
“We can’t let that happen.” You hear him say and you hum in confusion. Then you feel him push his come back inside your hole and you giggle at his actions. Your giggle was cut short when he slips into your cunt again, and coos when he sees the how your abdomen slightly bulges out when he’s inside you.
You wrap your legs around his body as you unbutton his shirt then take it off his body, admiring his slender body, his body a work of art that you could stare at all day. As he admires how you nicely wrap your cunt around him, you slightly brush your thumb over his nipple and he lets out a slight gasp.
“What are you up to now, doll?” He asks as he watches how you look at his body like he is made of gold.
“Mischief.” You playfully say as you wrap your hands around his neck and he leans down while chuckling. “Oh really?” He asks and you nod your head. “Mhm.” You say and he nuzzles his face into the base of your throat, inhaling your scent. He turns your body around so he’s beneath you, a soft sigh escapes your mouth when you feel his cock move inside you.
“You have such a sweet scent.” He mumbles against your skin and you giggle at his words. “What? I’m being honest.” He says like you did something outrageous.
“I know you are.” You giggle once again and he pulls his head up to look at you before tickling your neck by playfully licking your sensitive spot. Your giggles turn into laughter and he eats the sound up by giving you a warm and tender kiss on your mouth.
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i wrote this at 4 in the morning so if it don’t make sense it didn’t make sense lmao
if you enjoyed this, please leave a reblog and a like because that would be so much appreciated <3
#tr smut#sanzu smut#sanzu haruchiyo scenarios#sanzu haruchiyo smut#akashi haruchiyo#tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu#haruchiyo sanzu x reader#sanzu haruchiyo imagines#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu bonten#tokyo revengers sanzu#sanzu x reader#bonten sanzu#tr sanzu#sanzu#bonten imagines#tokyo revengers bonten#bonten smut#bonten x reader#bonten scenarios
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bffs with the rookies- incorrect quotes 1!
Just a lil sum sum to show more abt the relationships in the AU
Y/N: A stake to the heart won't kill a vampire if their tits are big enough. Oscar: Yeah, you just catch it. Logan: Nah nah nah, deflects it. Stake? Just bounces right off. Done. Back to doing hot girl shit. Arthur: Then I just use a spear instead. Y/N: You are trying so hard to kill a vampire with big bazongas, and for what? Why would you do that to the ecosystem?
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Oscar: It’s Christmas! Are you all in a Christmas mood?! Logan: Merry crisis. Arthur: Jingle bells, jingle bells, single all the way. Y/N: Hoe hoe hoe. Oscar: Guys, please.
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Oscar: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Logan? Logan: Arthur, easily. Arthur, laughing: What the fuck, man. Logan: Well, Y/N would be too easy. She’d probably be into it. Y/N, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?
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Logan: How do I ask someone out? Y/N: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two. Logan: No! Arthur: Twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car. Logan: Stop! Oscar: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream. Logan: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.
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Y/N: Fight me! Arthur: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle? *Later* Logan: Why is Arthur crying? Oscar: Y/N kicked him really hard on the ankle.
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Y/N, to Oscar: When was the last time you let someone hug you? Oscar: *thinking* Oscar: 2012. Arthur: 2012…? Oscar: Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Logan out so I let him hug me.
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Lando: You know what? Lando: When I joined this friend group I thought you guys would be dealing with my bullshit. *Y/N, Arthur and Oscar continue screaming about mold water* Lando:Not the other way around. Logan: I dunno, sounds like you need to drink the mold water.
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Lando: Mice are having sex in my walls. Arthur: Tattletale! Logan: You're just being ungrateful. Y/N: It's their home too, you know. Oscar: So what? Don't slutshame them. Lando: The mice are fucking AND now I'm getting heckled.
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Oscar: Team A will consist of myself, Arthur, Lando, and Logan. Oscar: Team B will consist of Y/N, cause she scares me.
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How Lando and Y/n became friends:
Logan: Why aren't there friend pick up lines? Pick up lines to make friends like- Logan, to Arthur: Hey, that's a cute outfit. You know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual. Y/N, to Lando: Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire. Oscar: There are two types of people.
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Charles: I’m not mad, I just need to know why you two had a fake ID. Arthur: *Incoherent mumbling* Charles: Huh? Y/n: …You need to be 18 to hold the puppies at PetCo.
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Charles (brainstorming ideas for pranking Max): How much could a serial killer mask possibly cost? Y/n: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful. Charles: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that? Y/n: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Charles.
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Y/n: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts! Arthur, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack. Y/n, deadpanning at Arthur Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.
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Arthur, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs? Charles: It means like in hand-to-hand combat. Arthur: Ohhhh- Y/n: Both of you get out of this kitchen.
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Logan: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Y/n For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Logan: Mean.
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Y/n: Dumbest scar stories, go! Oscar: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Charles: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Logan: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Arthur: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Max: Max: I have emotional scars.
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When Max and Charles got spam called by Y/n and the group after their party:
Max: I CAN'T DO IT! Charles, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Max: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Lando: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Max: Max: I appreciate it, Max: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Charles: Max- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Lando: Max we gotta- Max: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Max: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Max, motioning to Y/n, Oscar, Arthur and Logan: NOT FUCKING THIS
#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 incorrect quotes#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#lando norris x reader#lando norris#arthur leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc
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another chase davenport fic???
A/N: Of course! I would love to make another one for you guys. I’m happy that you liked the first one!
Here’s another Chase fan fiction for ya! It’s a little on the short end, but I hope it’s still good!
Might be typos!!
Pairing: Chase Davenport x Reader
——————🧬——————
“Hey, guys.” I smiled, as I unbuckled my seat and walked out of the hydro-loop.
They all greeted me, as I walked in. “What are you doing here?” Leo asked as they all three of them walked over to me.
I shrug, “Just wanted to drop by, surprise everyone.”
“Well, color me surprised.” Bree said and we exchanged a hug.
“Well, you can color me blue. I think it really goes with my complexion.” Adam said, looking into an imaginary mirror. I shook my head and hugged both him and Leo.
“Where’s Chase?”
“Not sure, said he had something big to show us.”
“Well, I know it’s not his height.” Adam said, walking over to us after grabbing a water from the bar table.
“Guys, I’m ready to show you what I’ve been working on.” Chase stated, and I revealed myself from behind in Adam, Bree and Leo.
“Got room for one more?”
“(Y/N).” He smiled wide and hugged me tight. “What are you doing here? Thought you be on the main land, for a couple more days.”
“Well, I couldn’t wait, and had my trip cut short. So, what was that thing you were showing them?”
“Oh, I.. uh..” He said stumbling over his words, “It’s in the our sleeping quarters, but I need to put the finishing touches on everything.”
“I thought it was done already?”
“It is, just want to make sure it perfect.” He said and ran into the training room.
“Was that weird to you guys?”
“Not from how he acts normally, I’d say that was pretty normal.” Leo responded and the rest nodded their heads in agreement.
—————
We all sat down in the cafeteria area, and ate a light snack. “Hey, don’t you guys think he should be done with the finishing touches, on what he is working on?”
“Yeah, it’d had been a long time.”
“That’s how Chase always is, give him around 2-3 business days.”
“I don’t have time to wait.”
“Hey, wait, wait. Maybe give him a couple more minutes. You know how he needs to work alone.” Bree said holding me back.
“Well, I can help him out. He seems to like when I do that.” I brushed past Bree and Leon quickly ran up to stand in front of me.
“Bree, come on! I need to check on him.”
“Bree is right, (Y/N). He told us himself that he needs peace and quiet.”
“Well, I can still check in and see if he needs anything.”
I walk past them again, this time Adam stands in my ways. “Adam, don’t even try it. Try me, and you won’t get anymore food from the main land.”
I replied and Adam stepped back and they look at him, like he was crazy. “I’m sorry guys, she drives a hard bargain.”
I finally make my way to the room where they all had their sleeping capsules. “Chase, do you need help— Woah..”
I come into the room and looked around. It had been decked out with streamers and confetti littering the floor. Along with everything else you’d see at a party.
It was just so amazing and incredible.
“Guys! You weren’t supposed to let her see yet.”
“Sorry, but she threatened me with food. And you know how important it is to me.” Adam replied and went to sit on the couch.
“Chase, what’s all this for?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise, but it’s for you. All of it is.”
“Even the cake?” I said pointed over to the cake that Adam and Leo were devouring.
“Yes, even the— Adam! Leo!”
“Hey, we deserve a reward after helping you out today.” Leo said, and they continued to eat the cake.
I shake my head with a laugh and noticed that Chase looked sorta down. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just… I wanted this to be surprise. And it’s all coming apart.”
“No, it’s not.” I said, and as I say that the streamers that were tapped to the sleeping capsules started to lose its stick and the ‘happy birthday’ banner had fell to the floor.
“See?”
“Chase. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter, how many streamers fall or if my cake is half eaten.” I started as I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eyes. “It’s the thought that counts and this was very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.”
I reassured him and he began to smile a little and it made me smile seeing him do it. I let my hands drop and he took my head in his hands and placed a kiss to my forehead.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s enjoy it while we can shall we?” He held his arm out, and I looped my arm around his.
“We shall.”
#chase davenport x reader#chase davenport#lab rats elite force#lab rats elite force x reader#lab rats x reader#lab rats#wattpad#x reader#black!reader#fluff#black!fem!reader#black!writer#all inclusive#fluffed up#cute imagine
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spencer’s funeral and his partner is the special guest and roasts spencer so hard and than revels that they are getting a cat together but everyone thinks it’d a baby announcement lmaoooo or however you wanna end it
Special News
pairing: spencer agnew x f! reader
a/n: anon i love this idea so much!! guys please don’t come at me for these terrible jokes i’m just a girl really 😜 also i’m posting sm rn go me
requests are open <33
“lebron james inspired us with his baller moves. steph curry inspired us with his words. spencer agnew inspired us by being a piece of shit, so we would never follow in his footsteps.”
you’re stood at the podium of the funeral, spencer in the coffin next to you holding a bouquet of plastic flowers as he tries not to laugh.
“spencer is a gamer, and we all know that. but if he spent as much time with me as he does on world of warcraft, i’d be the happiest girl on earth, but hey, at least he has a high gear score to keep him company whilst i cook.”
you see everyone laugh as you switch the paper, angela cackling over what you thought was a pretty shit joke.
as the laughter dies down, you continue on. “spencer and me only ever disagree over stupid things, and i think to myself, he must know he’s short when he has to look up to see eye-to-eye with someone who's shorter than him, because i’m always right. i’m sure courtney feels the same about shayne.”
at this, courtney yells “FACTS!” from behind one of the cameras, and you shoot her a wink.
shayne then stares you down, and all you say is “shayne don’t worry, i’m a short king ally!” which he just smirks at.
“i have some pretty bad jokes here, so let’s quickfire some.“ you mutter to everyone.
“if sleeping on my arm were an olympic sport, he’d have more gold than michael phelps.” this earns a giggle from spencer, as you have a folder on your phone of him asleep in the most awkward ways possible, always lying on your arm somehow.
“he’s so obsessed with video games, even his posture looks like it's from a character model that hasn't loaded properly yet.“ this makes everyone cackle, spencer opening one eye to glare at you, and you just laugh him off.
“your gamer boy posture is so bad, chiropractors have your picture on their vision boards on what to improve on.”
“do you guys think that,” you exhale through your nose at what patrick has written on your prompt card. “spencer’s idea of sitting normally the same as a pretzel’s idea of being straight?” which is so bad it’s good, making you crouch down to laugh.
you stand back up after a moment, your stomach twisting over what you’re about to do. it’s going to be so worth it, but gosh you feel bad.
“spencer, my lovely boyfriend, is a mt dew kickstart addict, certified gamer girl, and a soon to be father” and at this last statement, everyone gasps, and spencer’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. he looks at you intently, and you see him experience about a hundred emotions at once
you smile at everyone, turning to a camera, pulling out a printed off certificate of adoption, a picture of a tiny ginger cat taped to it.
“we got a cat!” you say, almost proud of how shocked everyone is
as you turn to look at spencer, you hear shayne’s laugh, and you look at spencer with sympathetic eyes, mouthing ‘i love you’ to him over all the laughter. he just smiles, knowing that this cat is going to be so loved by you both. especially you. because you love him so much.
as you sit back down, spencer sits up. having come back from the dead, he has some things to say. he goes through everyone at his funeral; alex, shayne, damien, tommy, selina, and then, you.
“and finally, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n. my bundle of sunshine, blinding and hard to look at directly.” you scoff at this, and he looks at you with a look that says this is a joke please don’t kill me when we’re home.
“i mean, come on, you cry at surf's up? i guess even animated penguins have higher emotional intelligence than you.” he manages to say through a fit if giggles. spencer always teases you for this, even though he cries at the NGE film. loser.
after wrap, courtney comes over to congratulate you on your cat, and just catch up generally.
“so, cat parents hey? proud of you girl” she says with a grin.
“yeah, i kinda feel bad scaring everyone into thinking spencer gets game in bed.” you reply, earning a laugh from her.
“don’t be mean to me! i’m a player you know?” spencer says coming up behind you.
“okay, sure you are mr ‘i cry at anime’.” you snap back.
he throws his hands up in defeat, and you kiss his cheek, going off to see amanda.
“she’s so cool.” courtney says
“yeah,” spencer replies. “she’s not that bad.”
she elbows him in the ribs, and he clutches his side
“i mean, she’s the best!” he says through strained teeth, courtney doing a proud nod before catching you up.
#smoshyourheadin#amanda lehan canto#angela giarratana#arasha lalani#courtney miller#shayne topp#spencer agnew#spencer agnew x reader#smosh#alex tran#tommy bowe#damien haas#my sillies#i love them
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what do you like and dislike about airy?
CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD
well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)
i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being
“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”
>”WE CANT DIE?”
“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”
he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS
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