#it's so bad i don't even have words for how bad it is

[madamechrissy]

Passenger Princess

Pairings- Sylus x f! reader

Contents/warnings- you are begging Sylus to let you drive his classic car, but he never lets you! So you decide to be a bratty kitten, and suck him off to distraction. How's that work for you? MDNI- oral (m receiving) fingering, teasing, Sylus being cocky lol, established relationship, car sex, creampie, cum play, Sylus talking filthy, just a little 2k smutty oneshot hehe (also reader is a bad driver lmaoo)

Sylus always makes you a passenger princess, he never ever lets you drive anywhere. Even when he's bringing you to his mansion, he'll arrange a fancy, sleek black car to pick you up. You're a very good driver actually! You just maybe hit curbs sometimes - and once you hit a mailbox - but that's it! Also you backed into your garage but that's not even a big deal!

You pout all the time about it, begging to drive one of his many, many vintage sports cars - especially that 57' Chevy Bel Air, but Sylus just gives you that amused look, that smirk with those lidded, garnet eyes of his. 'That's real cute, sweetie' he'll purr those words out, patting your head and snatching his keys back. He's so fucking tall he loves to watch you jump, trying to snatch them back.

The two of you just left dinner at the fanciest restaurant tonight, and are headed to spend the weekend at his place. Sylus only loves the best things after all, the finest red wine still dances on your tongue, the most expensive cologne lingers in the car, spritzed along his inner wrist, tantalizing you more than you ever really admit.

You begged to drive tonight again, but of course he refused. "Sylus, seriously, let me drive this car just once! Please."

"Kitten," he trails off, eyeing you in the sleek little black dress he bought you, a big hand resting on your bare thigh now. "Those looks don't work when it comes to driving by baby."

"Am I not your baby!?" He chuckles again, white teeth glinting as the lights flash from the cars passing by.

"You are, but just sit next to me, I love looking at you."

"Look at me drive then, I'm sexy driving."

"I'm sure you're gorgeous when you hit random things," he earns another glare.

"It was just once."

"Mmm, I'm just a more experienced driver," you pout and cross your arms, earning his chuckle. "I'm so not letting you drive this one either, if you hit a curb with these rims-"

"I won't! Sylus I thought you loved me," you're playing him and he loves it, chuckling as you lean close while his car drives on the dark, empty highway. His fingers slip up your thigh and you can't hold back your whine. "Don't distract me."

"Be a good girl, and I'll make sure to make you feel so good you forget all about driving my car," he pecks a kiss on your forehead, shifting gears and speeding up then. The sight of your white haired boyfriend doing that always fucked you ovaries up. You shift in your seat, he notices, his lips quirking up now as he eyes you from the side. "I'm a good driver, and I need you safe."

"How good of a driver," you trail off, fingers drifting down his chest then, over the black button down dress shirt. You watch his jaw set, tense, vein popping out under his pale skin. "Should I test your skills?"

"You're a bratty kitten tonight, did you have too much wine?" You press a kiss to his throat, watching his adam's apple bob when you touch his cock over his slacks, he sucks in a breath, so quiet he thinks you didn't hear. "Sweetie..."

"If you can drive perfectly with my mouth on your cock, then I won't even complain anymore," you're leaned down now, unsnapping your seatbelt. He glares. "You think you'll swerve when you cum?"

"Put your seatbelt back- oh fuck, Kitten..." He's done for when you unzip him, tugging his thick, veiny cock out of his black silk boxers, the reddened tip is already leaky pearly white drops. "Tch, you want me to punish you later?"

"Yes please," he sighs, tensing when your tongue flicks over his slit, tasting the drops that are somehow so sweet, just like all of him. "If you swerve once, even once - I get to drive."

"How will you know, with my cock down your little slutty throat?" He's teetering on that edge now, desperate as you suck more of him, swirling your tongue now. He lets go of the steering wheel for just a second when you fucking hum on it. "That's... you're fucking... diabolical, you..."

You'd giggle if your mouth wasn't full of his huge cock, if you can't already tell how badly he wants you. You'd been teasing him all night under the dinner table, you live for his punishments - when he'd snap and put you right in a mating press, overstimulate you to the point of tears, and he knows you love to push him there. A little game, back and forth, till one of you snaps.

You're sucking harder now, cheeks hollowing, as a hand slips to your hair, tugging at it, the pain so good you moan. "You just wait, I'll tie you up and not let you cum, hmm sweetie? That what you want, me to toy with you over and over, and no release?"

Your tummy clenches as you choke on him, soaking wet by the time he's bucked his cock up inside your throat. Sylus can hardly focus- not that he'll admit it, but you feel so good, your throat contracting around him, taking more and more. He can feel your hands trembling as they grip his thighs, feel you taking all you can.

"Mnh..." You're whining out around him, drinking up every gasp, every time his cock throbs, hitting the back of your throat so deep. He slips his free hand down, sliding your dress up, your ass bare with just the lacy red panties he bought you to wear tonight. You're soaking them when his finger touches you, and his cock gags you just perfect.

"Already ruining my gift? You're so slutty, aren't you? Needy little thing," you're just sucking him, head bobbing, when he slips a finger inside you, moaning softly. "Oh, you're that wet"

You pull back for a moment, thighs pressing together at the stretch, his long finger snug in your tight little cunt. "Please, more."

"Thought you were 'in control' hmm? playing with me all night, don't you have a cock to deep throat, sweetie?" He's lost now, his reddened tip glossy from your spit, you suck him again, deeper, whining out when he curls his fingers, just the tips of them, a cruel tease.

He bucks up again, slipping a finger in deep - his fingers are so long, they're almost at your cervix at this angle. You're gasping and choking on him, shoulder pressing the steering wheel, but this man is still somehow driving perfectly. You can't feel a single swerve, even when you pull back to peek at him, lips coated in his precum and your drool.

"Fuck you're so pretty like this," he whispers, sitting at a red light with his foot on the brake, brushing your lower lip. The light goes green and you jerk his cock up and down, while he presses a finger in, and he swerves just a bit, cursing now, his dark brows low. "Oh you little brat."

You giggle now, swiping your lips with a little glint in your eyes that makes him want to fuck you so hard they roll back. You touch his tip and lean over, kissing up his neck, enjoying when the man that calls you kitten fucking purrs like one. "You okay, Sylus? Too much?"

"Tch," he pulls off to the side of the road suddenly with a sharp turn as you try to suck his sensitive tip again. You gasp when he yanks you up my the hair on the back of your neck, tugging sharply, those eyes flaming red in the night.

"Can I drive home then, since you swerved - Mr 'I can drive so much better than you' hmm?"

"Sure," you blink in surprise, but the look on his face is dangerous, your heart races when he continues. "Once I'm done with you."

"D-done with me - ah!" Sylus yanks you on his lap, you're trembling, the little sports car shaking as cars fly by, and he's slipped two fingers knuckle deep, you gush down them as he rocks them up and down, watching your face flush, you bite your lower lip, trembling.

He yanks them out with a suctioned pop, out of your squelching cunt now, before putting those fingers to his lips. You watch with your heart racing, cunt pulsing around nothing while he runs your slick on his lips like a gloss, sucking your cunt off those thick digits, exhaling and then eyeing you.

He caresses your cheek tenderly, as your breaths come out in little pants, firm on his lap. "Panties to the side."

"Sylus... here?" You look around wildly, and he smirks, tugging your hips down. "Oh my god I..."

"Panties. To. The. Side." You immediately obey, and Sylus sinks his tip in, stretching you out, you're quivering around him, he drinks your cry up with his hungry mouth, tongue slipping in with a filthy stroke. "Too much for your little cunt?"

You shake your head, lost for words when he angels his hips, his lengthy cock pressing in, inch by inch into your slick little hole, gummy walls gripping him, even better than your mouth. He sees your eyes roll back, as your cunt gushes down his length, wetter and wetter as you cry out his name.

"She can hardly take me, hmm?" his whisper tickles your collarbone, as he tugs a tit out, running his fingers along your nipple. You arch into it, struggling to take more of him. "Should I even let you cum after all this attitude?"

"Pl-ease... I'll be good... p-promise..." He lets out a scoff, tugging you all the way down his cock then. You're so full you cry out, nails pressing into his shoulders through the dress shirt, then he lifts you, dragging on your spot. "Ah!"

"No, I'll just use you tonight, sweetie," you're lost when he does just that, moving you up and down his cock like you're nothing, leaning the seat back and pounding up into your cunt. Your head almost smacks the roof, but he protects it, even as he's talking shit. "Just my pretty toy, aren't you? Just for me to breed, fill your cunt up?"

"Y-yes, yes, ah!" You're so close, while his thick, veiny cock stretches and stuffs your walls, his filthy words mixed with sweet ones, kissing the taste of his precum off your lips desperate, as he tugs you even closer. "M'close, please Sylus, I'll be g-good."

"No you won't," he huffs, smirking as he rolls your hips on him, but then he slips a thumb down, finding your clit, watching your pretty face as your head falls back. "But I'll let you cum, since you're so fucking pretty when you do. I'll give you what you need, sweetie."

"Ngh!" He's rolling his thumb over your clit with the perfect pressure now, eliciting desperate cries from you, as he kisses your throat, sinking his sharp teeth in at the base of it, right over your collar bone. You rock your hips and shatter for him, pulsing all around him, milking him then and there as he groans, lifting you up as you're still shaking.

He fucks you hard then once your orgasm crashes, lost in you, no more teasing no - he fucks you in deep, brutal strokes, all while he has a hand on your head to protect it from thwacking his roof, whispering your name over and over. "Can you take all of me, huh beautiful?"

You just nod eagerly when he pours so much cum inside you, you're convulsing as he thickens, sliding you down his cock once more, plump lips kissing yours messy, desperate. You're clinging to him, nails digging into the back of his neck as your fingers tug his hair, the white load of cum already pouring down.

"Fuck, you took all of it, didn't you?" He bites your lip, pumping more, your aftershocks milking him further. "Cunt is just made for me."

"It is, mnh," he smiles as he he pulls back, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Oh god, what are you planning?"

"Nothing sweetie," he drawls out those words, chuckling deeply then when he pulls you off him now, cock a dripping mess of white ropes and clear sticky strands of your arousal. "Just that you're going to drive with my cum dripping out of you."

"Sylus, I can't drive now," you whisper, too fucked out - shaky and dizzy. He shoves you in the driver's seat, and you gasp, staring at him as he zips himself up. "Sylus I really can't focus!"

"You wanted to drive home," he leans over, touching your cunt and scooping up some of his cum that pours out, slipping long fingers in your mouth. You suck eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. "Mmm, you can be a good girl. Drive home then."

"Fuck." Thighs shaking, tummy clenched, you realize you can't even drive right now, glaring daggers at him as he laughs at you.

"Something wrong sweetie?"

You never ask to drive again, not when the entire time he's fingering his cum back inside you.

ahaha this was just too fun I love Sylus hehe

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

[protectoroffaeries]

I've mentioned this story in various tags before but the whole thing is a little long for that, and relevant enough (I hope) to warrant a rare reply from me.

So I'm a trans man, but I'm also very likely intersex. I know this because as a teenager (16), I started growing a ton of hair everywhere (hirsuitism), and my parents were worried I might have PCOS, though I don't have any other indicators of that. Nor was I complaining about the hirsuitism - I had a beard LONG before I got access to T, and that worked for me. But they explained PCOS to me, and I was like well, I'll do the tests for that because if I do have it, I want to treat it. So I do ALL sorts of really invasive medical testing, during which 1) I develop a complex about how my genitals look because of how the doctor described them (combined with the hirsuitism, this is what makes me think I'm intersex) and 2) I learn I do not have PCOS.

Still, there was a lot of hullabaloo about the hair, especially the facial hair. So, even though I was not having sex and expressed zero desire to start hormonal birth control, I was prescribed it because literally everyone in my life except me was Worried About The Thick Dark Hair On My Face And Body. And like, okay, my parents have their flaws (more on that later), but they did what they thought was best for me, so I was like if they are so worried about this, I will try it.

And it did soften, lighten, and minimize the hair growth! But it also exacerbated my severe anxiety and depression in two separate ways: 1) it intensified what I now know is gender dysphoria, and 2) it literally altered the way my thought patterns function. It's hard to describe, but basically, my mind is very active, very chaotic, and very "loud". I am always thinking about a dozen different things, jumping around, visualizing words and images a lot. When I was on BC, all of that disappeared. It was silent. When I wasn't actively doing something, my brain felt turned off. It was uncanny and uncomfortable for me, and as a creative writer, it made it impossible for me to mentally work on writing projects in the background of day-to-day life.

I knew my parents would not understand either of these things (I never received any mental health care as a minor either, despite desperately needing it since I was a young teen), so I just stopped taking them. Just got rid of them in secret.

(I want to pause and say I am very pro birth control and birth control access. Even though it was bad for me, I know many people who use it treat chronic health conditions of their own, which is not even mentioning the way that being able to have sex without the risk of pregnancy is life-changing for the better. I believe it improves the quality of life for people who have an informed choice and the ability to go on and off it as they so require.)

Now, I have a younger sister who is also trans. She has known she's trans since she was very young. She tried to come out multiple times throughout her preteen and teen years before our parents acknowledged that she was serious. When she was 16, she begged them to let her go on estrogen. And they told her no. Even though the psychiatrist they got her straight up told them they'd be bad parents not to (my sister is still understandably mad about this tactless approach, but I can't say they were wrong).

They said they were worried she would regret it, that it was an adult decision, that she should wait and make it on her own, that they didn't want to be responsible for it if she changed her mind later, etc. etc. And I've always found this argument fascinating because I was like well. You put me on estrogen when I was 16 even though I was neutral to it, and then you created an environment where I felt like I couldn't be honest about how badly it was hurting me. And they have always staunchly maintained that was different. Which it was! My sister had been telling them for like half a decade she was a girl. And I told them I wasn't bothered by the fucking beard.

And so like, circling back to the children's rights and trans rights point - we were both sixteen. It was the same hormone. But the anti-trans fearmongering and parents' rights rule of law made it so that they had the power to choose to hurt us both in order to make us conform to our assigned sexes, even though we directly told them what our concerns were and weren't.

And look, I love my parents, I don't think they're like, demons or anything - I think they were ignorant and extremely scared about how the world would treat their queer children. But I will say, that also, they were not that interested in medical care beyond preventative care. Acute issues were handled at home. Chronic issues weren't treated at all - and I spent a decade self-managing severe, untreated OCD that makes me a bit resentful of that.

Like I'm in my mid-20s now. I've spent my entire adulthood thus far trying to make up for these parents' rights medical assertions that were wrong for me. That I conveyed, in all the ways a kid who loves their parents and is subjected to their control can, were wrong for me. And my sister's in the same boat. It's absolutely the same fight, trans rights and childrens' rights.

in a world where a prominent branch of anti-trans activism focuses on fearmongering about "parents' rights," trans rights and youth rights become inextricable.

trans kids deserve to be called the right pronouns and the right name by schools and doctor's offices, regardless of "parental consent." trans kids deserve to undergo the right puberty at the same time as their cis peers, regardless of "parental consent."

the very concept of "parents' rights" is a smokescreen that enables the abuse and dehumanization of children by adults. this is bad for cis kids, too.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hello new Superman fans! Welcome to the fandom. We're SO glad you decided to show up, even if maybe your stay here is brief. Stay as long, or a little as you want to.

My name's Orla, I've been in the comics fandom for over twenty years, and I have been a comic reader for over thirty.

I'm here as your friendly guide to all things Superman from the comics perspective!

First off, I want to convey that the fantastic movie you just saw is referred to as an "elseworlds" story.

This means it is a story that takes place in a totally different universe from the comics, and it has no relevancy to the main comics at all!

Elseworlds are a lot of fun as they give creators an opportunity to explore comic characters, new teams, and even comic events, in a world that doesn't have decades or lore attached! Think of it as official fanfiction.

As a result, character origins, motivations, appearances, ages, team combinations, moral alignments, and even personalities might be drastically different from the comics, the source material.

Please do not think this movie is a full spectrum representation of the depth of comics.

But Superman has always been woke, that part is 100% accurate.

While you're puttering through tags here on Tumblr you might have come across a few things that I'd like to address with the truth.

Because in the Superman fandom, we care about the truth, that was one of the most poignant themes of the movie - getting the truth out there.

Unfortunately, the fandom is full of a lot lies and misunderstandings, or partial truths. So without wasting any more time let me deconstruct a few things.

Long post below.

1.) Kon El/Conner Kent

Fandom: "This is a Clex baby that Clark abandoned for his parents to raise and owes Lex child support, and his name is sometimes spelled Connor or Konner or Kon El Kent." The above is partial truth, but the only statement that is true is that he shares 50% of Clark's DNA and 50% of Lex's, making him on technicality a child of them both, but the comics use the word clone. This is not the first origin of Kon, in fact for the first 10 years of his comic lifespan he was a human cloned from a man named Paul Westfield, and his genes was altered to just look like Superman and he had meta abilities in the form of TTK. He was not a clone of Clark to start. Geoff Johns in 2003 retconned this origin to make him instead a Clex clone, and then launched off a hurtful eugenics narrative where Kon was written to believe there was a risk of him being evil because one of his genetic donors was evil (which didn't make sense because Paul was evil himself). Just coming from watching the film, I want you to remember what Pa told Clark - it's not up for parents to decide who their children are, that's up for the person to decide. Genetics do not dictate morality. And this is why this retcon put a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths. This is not to say you cannot enjoy it and find it compelling, and it can be compelling, but please understand what this retcon is - a retcon. Clark never abandoned Kon ever in the comics. He never was "weird about having his DNA stolen". He never held him being a clone against him. He never purged him when he found out he was half Lex (Batman was the one that made a fuss about it but people don't want to talk about that, I'll explain more below). There is no child support. That's not even how child support works. Neither Clark or Lex raised him and Kon doesn't formally see either as a father. Lex isn't even on his radar as "family". Clark is family however and he is sort of caught in this nebulous space between an older brother and a parental figure but in all honesty, it's a nonnuclear role. Kon's name is Kon El or Conner Kent. He is like an immigrant who has a birth/family name, and a given name. His given name is Conner Kent, his birth/family name (even though he did not have it when he was born) is Kon El. They do not combine, yes a lot of people do this, they are wrong. Please spell them correctly. Kon meaning "abomination" was a thing in main comics only briefly, and it is now no longer canon.

Originally, it had no meaning when Clark gave it to Kon. Clark did not knowingly name him abomination. This is false. Kon is not dating Tim Drake, that is not canon, and he really doesn't care who Tim is dating right now. Sorry.

2.) Lex Luthor is a good dad to Kon.

No, he isn't. I cannot even begin to explain how little care he has for that boy. He does not care for him in the slightest and only ever thought of him as a tool and a weapon to serve him.

3.) Clark is a BAD DAD to Kon.

No, he isn't. I cannot even begin to explain how much care he has for that boy. He trusted him so much, he trusted him with the people he loved most and feared for the most: his parents. He is not without faults, and a lot of them have more Doylest than Watsonians explanations for why he failed Kon in various things, but in general he loves Kon tremendously.

4.) Batman anything

Look. The Batman and BatFAM fandom is a huge monolith and a lot of the fans (not all) can be very weird, aggressive and outright vile to other characters without knowing that they are being unwelcoming to the greater fandom. That being said... Metas are allowed in Gotham, Batman has ZERO power to stop them from entering, and many (like many of his own rogues) live there. Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern, lives there. Dinah Lance, the Black Canary lived there. Ragman lived there. Duke Thomas, one of Batman's bat-brood lives there. Metas are allowed in Gotham. For some reason, many in the Batfam fandom, have decided that this trope is hilarious and fail to see the parallels of this and fascism, oligarchy, xenophobia, and in current events, ICE operations... Anyway this is not a thing that is canon, it was only canon in an elseworld's comic starring Barbara Gordon. Batman might not want other people in his city from time to time, and he claims to want to work alone, but he can eat shit and live, and he does. The comics call him out on this all the time. The Batfam are very frequently glazed in fandom at the expense of other characters by people in some pretty uncomfortable and sometimes vile ways. Example: the Green Lanterns are often painted as stupid or weak to prop up a Bat-character as better than them. Or a Super character is depicted as stupid an incapable of solving a mystery when Clark is an investigative journalist and has solved many mysteries on his own before. Or, in Young Justice circles, Bart Allen (a speedster character from The Flash) is an infantile child who needs his eyes covered in front of people kissing when he is the most punk of any of his team. My point here is, if you are NEW to the fandom and you see a lot of bat posts that use other characters to prop said bat-characters or their ships, have some extreme suspicion about how far removed this is from anything in reality and embrace it as CRACK FANFIC. Because that's what it is. If you ARE interested in the Batfam they are a compelling group of characters with a lot of depth and nuance, it is just a shame that much of the fandom space, fanon, has flanderized many of them down to basic tropes and their depth has been lost in many areas. If you like this, that's fine! It's your life, but please remember that there is more out there.........

5.) The comics are so confusing and contradict each other all the time and have rebooted so many times, every other year, there is no canon and no point in reading them.

This is a partial truth but there is nuance. The comics due to their nature have many writers taking on a character and when you have so many hands on one person, personality sometimes shifts and material is lost/forgotten/written over. But I promise you - you read enough comics you start to understand that barring something really unhinged, personality is consistent. There IS a canon. The comics do not reboot every other year, there have only been 3 major ones and once you know the DATES of these it's really simple. Comics really can be simple and many characters just start at #1 for reading. There are hundreds of fans that will gladly point you in any direction and will enthusiastically share their reading lists with you if you ask for help. We're desperate for comic readers and connections and love new fans. We are twirling our hair and kicking our feet when you ask for a reading list. Reading them is like reading a book, it's reading, it makes you think, it is good for you.

And finally

6.) Lois Lane doesn't do anything in the comics other than be a damsel.

Please. The movie you just watched provided you with one of the most breath taking takes of Lois I have seen. Lois Lane is a superhero in the comics where her curiosity, bravery, and passion for ending fascism is paramount to her character. She loves journalism and has a deep love and respect for the field and she is very, very good at it.

This is all for now I have for you. If you are curious about anything else regarding comics or source material, please reach out to me and I will love to help explain some things.

Note: this is not me saying fanworks with the above themes or tropes are bad or shouldn't exist, those are fanfiction where there are no rules, BUT, a lot of these themes have been confused for facts where new fans genuinely believe the above are real things that happened in the comics and are accurate depictions of characters and themes. I am here to sort out what is fanfic, and what is fact. Because we live in a world where respect for the truth, any truth big or small, is dwindling and that is a tool of fascism.

[formulafanfics13]

Lactation kink with ollie please?

Want a taste? - OB87 🔥

Masterlist

summary: ollie's been patient. sweet. soft. but ever since your milk came in, he's been different. hungrier. needier. completely obsessed with your tits. tonight, he finally breaks — and you let him have everything.

warnings: lactation kink, dom/sub power shift, breast worship, nipple sucking, milkplay, oral (f receiving), finger sucking, begging, creampie, soft possessiveness, obsession, established relationship, implied pregnancy/postpartum body, soft dom!ollie, long smut

It starts with his eyes. You catch him staring at your chest more often than usual, not in the casual, boyfriend way. In the desperate, feral way. Like he's starving. Your tits are fuller now. Heavier. Sensitive. Ever since the milk came in, they ache if you go too long without a pump. Or a mouth.

"Ollie," you tease one evening, catching his gaze stuck on your cleavage, "you're drooling."

He blushes, but doesn't deny it. "You don't get it," he mumbles. "They're... perfect. You're perfect."

You raise an eyebrow. "You want a taste?"

He chokes. Literally chokes on his own breath. "You're joking."

You aren't. You're already shirtless when he enters the bedroom. Lying back against the pillows, tits on full display. No bra. No top. Just you. Waiting. His mouth parts instantly.

"Ollie," you purr. "Come here."

He obeys like he's under a spell. Sits beside you on the bed, staring like you've invented religion. "You sure?" he whispers, fingers hovering just above your nipple.

"You've been staring all week," you murmur. "Be a good boy and suck."

That's all it takes. His mouth wraps around your left nipple like he's dying for it. You cry out, the suction is strong, greedy, needy.

He moans as the milk starts to flow. Swallows it down like he's thirsty. His hands cup the weight of your tits, squeezing gently, thumb grazing your other nipple until it hardens.

You watch him suck like he's been fantasizing about this for weeks. Maybe months.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes between gulps. "You taste unreal."

You tangle your fingers in his curls. "Slow down or you'll choke."

He doesn't listen. He switches sides, now latched onto your right tit like a man obsessed. He moans louder as more milk fills his mouth. The sound of him drinking, moaning, is almost enough to make you come untouched.

"Feel how hard I am," he whispers when he finally pulls away. His chin's wet. Your nipples are red and leaking.

You slide your hand into his boxers. He's rock hard.

"Fuck me," he begs. "Please. I need it so bad."

You ride him slow at first. Letting him feel every inch. Tits bouncing with each thrust. Milk dribbling down your chest. He can't stop touching them. Grabbing. Kneading. Licking. Begging.

"Let me come inside," he pants. "Fill you up. Keep it in. You're already so full for me."

You moan, it hits a nerve, his filthy words crashing into your already sensitive body. He sucks one nipple back into his mouth as you grind down harder.

"Look at you," you pant. "So obsessed. Is this what you needed, baby?"

He whimpers. "Yes. Needed this for so long. Please let me keep sucking while I come. Please."

You nod. And he does. He spills inside you just as your milk spills across his tongue again.

It's a mess. A perfect, unhinged, soaking mess. But he doesn't stop. Keeps sucking. Keeps thrusting.

Until you're both soaked and trembling and breathless and entirely his.

Later, when you're panting against his chest, still leaking slightly, he whispers, "Next time... can I fuck you while you feed me?"

You don't even hesitate. "God yes."

[gothicfied]

hey... can you please make a part 2 to your squid game fic where the reader is a teen but.. like.. have her die? anyways your writing is so good!

Squid Game (S2/S3) characters with a teen (18) reader Part 2

(Read Part 1 here)

Pairing: Various characters x teen!fem!reader, !!platonic!!

Warings: Mentions of death, violence, choking, stabbing, implications of misogyny, canon character death, reader literally DIES, this is set in Season 3, the giving-birth situation, idk I'm very bad at writing violent scenes I'm sorry😞🥀, this is basically just angst, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

Tags: @katscloudy @applepie1000 @calijimenez @nightlark100 @okayiamkassandra

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I WANTED, but I was so busy with school and speaking exams and ahhhhh I was so stressed all week long. This is probably really, FOR REAL THIS TIME, the last Squid Game request I'll write for, because I can already feel my interest in it dwindle. So sorry, but I really enjoyed writing for it again! Stay tuned for the football fics I can now finally continue lololol

જ⁀➴ A revolution in this kind of setting, who were you kidding? You were stupid enough to believe in it, but maybe this proved that you actually were naive like everyone said. Young and naive, with not a clue how the real world actually works. Gi-hun immediately stopped you from taking a guards gun and said that you're way too young to be handling something like this. "The adults are going to handle it." You heard him say as a group of players advanced further into the building.

જ⁀➴ It all quickly came crashing down and mamy lost their lives. You were mostly just sitting in your bed uncomfortably, trying not to look at the gruesome sight of the dead pink guards. It was destined to fail, you kept telling yourself, there was no way you could make it out of there now. And for some reason, people still decided to vote 'O'.

જ⁀➴ Dae-ho wasn't talking to you (or anyone for that matter) anymore. Just a day ago he was so determined to free everyone here and get out alive, to give you your life back so you could actually enjoy your last teenage years, but now that people were starting to blame him for the failed revolution, he kind of shut down. You missed talking to him about your worries terribly, even though you've only known him for three days or so. You quickly lost track of time in this place.

જ⁀➴ Geum-ja was still the one that comforted you the most. She'd get it, right? She's a mother! And motherly she was to you. As you expressed your panic and fear, she was quick to calm you down with a tight hug. The overall mood was gloomy and silent. No one really dared to say a word and you resented everyone who kept putting money over people's lives.

જ⁀➴ The next game terrified you the most. Whoever was controlling this place already set the right mood by displaying a literal human chandelier of the dead rebels while everyone else walked to the next location. When you noticed Jung-bae you were sick to your stomach, quickly looking away to avoid any more trauma. Holy shit, what kind of monster would even do that? Yes, you were convinced, you're naive and dumb and too young to understand anything.

જ⁀➴ You didn't quite know what to make out of a game called 'Knives and Keys'. At first you were even to shy to up to the gumball machine that was standing in the middle of the room. All eyes seemed to be on you, like everytime. Before that, you took pride in being the youngest because you thought of yourself as strong and confident, but no you were not so sure anymore. The longer you hesitated the more comments you got thrown at your head:

"Come on kid, do something!"

"This is why you don't let a child participate..."

"How is she even still alive?"

જ⁀➴ The roles were pretty self explanatory. Red ones would chase the fuck out of the blue ones with knives like crazy people. The blue team had keys that could supposedly open the door to the exit. Bad thing is, the red team has to kill im order not to die themselves. The way your faced dropped at the sight of the blue sphere in your hand was no joke. "Don't worry about it," Hyun-ju said, who also was on team blue, "I'll help you with everything. You don't have to do this alone."

જ⁀➴ It was a frenzy of walking around, taking care of the very pregnant Jun-hee (who also sprained her ankle while tumbling down the stairs) and trying to unlock every door you saw. You were the quickest of all, which is why Hyun-ju told you to go ahead and see if any of the four keys you carried with you fit in any door. You had the scare of your life, quite literally, when you walkes into the hands of a red team member. His hands were trembling as he held out the knife to your throat, but he couldn't do it. "I can't kill a child!" He exclaimed and hurried away.

જ⁀➴ Secretly, you were also looking out for Dae-ho and Gi-hun, who became like father and brother to you and now just left, but to no avail. Everytime you heard someone scream, you were scared it was one of them. Hyun-ju showed you that it didn't mattwe if you were team blue or team red, she could kill anyone. If you get out of here, you swore to yourself you'd be more like her.

જ⁀➴ Timing couldn't have been better when Jun-hee's water broke as the four of you took a quick break in one of the rooms. What the fuck? That was probably the only thought that was existing in your head. You panicked at the sight of her giving birth because.. yeah, what the hell? Geum-ja quickly told you to guard the door outside and make sure to alert them if someone was approaching the door.

જ⁀➴ Oh, you wish you could've been strong enough. For them at least, if it wasn't for your own sake. Male players from the red team all seemed to hunt you down for one reason: You're young and vulnerable. When your back was turned, because you took a quick peek inside to see if Jun-hee was doing okay, it was foreseeable that someone would grab you from behind. The man choked you from behind, cursing you out at first because you voted 'X' and then because you're a woman. Your hands scratched violently at his wrists as you tried to wring yourself from his grip but the man, so you learned, will always be stronger.

જ⁀➴ When Hyun-ju ripped the door open, it was too late for you and too late to catch the guy who had stuck that stupid knife into your throat. You thought death would come gently for you, but in those last moments you finally understood what all the elders tried to tell you.

[atsa-star-wars]

Hard agree with OP. (I commented under my main, @alexthespaceace.) Here are some of my favorite comments and/or exchanges in case the comments to this post blow up and makes these ones harder to refer back to.

(It'd be nice if there'd been more to the Anakin/Padme relationship than being necessary to make Luke and Leia. As the Puzzle in a Thunderstorm guys often say in early "God Awful Movies" podcast episodes, "You're the movie!" The Powers That Be could've made a non-toxic relationship, but that wouldn't have been good cinema or shown what a shitty person Anakin grew up to be.)

===

jedi-enthusiast Original Poster @askteamgrey Relationships do not necessarily equal attachment.

Relationships are just having feelings for someone and forming a bond with them---whether those are familial, platonic, or romantic.

Attachment, as I've already outlined above, is being unable or unwilling to let someone go, no matter what that might mean for you or them, because you don't want to go through life without them.

They’re two separate things that have the ability to intersect.

ladystonedwolf only seen the movies, but anakin was told by a room full of adults when he was a kid that missing his mother was dangerous. that environment would emotionally stunt any kids ability to healthily process attachments and fears of loss

Avatar alexthespaceace That room full of adults thought he was too old and too prone to attachment (read: selfishness and obsession) to be fit for Jedi training, and Episodes II and III proved those adults right.

fai-gensou Pretty sure this whole argument about attachment wouldn’t be happening if the word obsession was used. Because Anakin didn’t love Padme; he was obsessed with her. You don’t care if your obsessions and your actions to keep it harm you or everyone around you

batidodehuevo I think you are wrong. Anakin didn't turn to the dark side because of his attachment to Pade, it was because he wanted to possess her. In the original triology they already prove that there is nothing wrong with being attached to others. I also miss that Anakin is acting out for Padme because the last time he had a dream his mother died and when he went to Yoda to talk about it he literally told him to let go because people die and there is nothing to do about!

alexthespaceace Yoda doesn't have all the details, and part of the Jedi religion, which borrows heavily from Buddhism, is accepting inevitabilities, like death, even the death of a loved one.

jedi-enthusiast Original Poster @batidodehuevo buddy, attachment IS wanting to possess someone—it’s about not wanting to ever let them go and being willing to do anything, no matter how heinous, just so you won’t have to. Attachment doesn’t mean love and the OT still goes along with Lucas’s message that attachment is bad.

And Anakin literally didn’t tell Yoda anything about Padme dying or a vision, he just said “i’m having dreams of someone close to me dying” (and Yoda even had to badger him to learn that much)—which is-

jedi-enthusiast Original Poster @batidodehuevo -pretty standard for a nightmare and very likely to happen in war. Not to mention that literally no one knew about Anakin’s visions of his mother and that they came true except Padme! Obi-Wan thought Anakin was having dreams and didn’t know what they were about, and Anakin never told him anything else! No one else knew!

So Yoda basically told Anakin that it’s better to celebrate the life someone lived and appreciate the time you had with them rather than being sad and angry-

Avatar jedi-enthusiast Original Poster @batidodehuevo -about not getting more time with them, albeit in typical Yoda-speak. Which is literally advice given in grief counseling. Not to mention that Yoda can’t read Anakin’s mind, so he can only give vague advice to a vague statement.

What else would you have had him do?

clairaworlds Also Anakin constantly undermines her autonomy in tcw. It bothers me so much. She's such a badass in that show and Anakin spends 100% of his time with her telling her not to do stuff she's fully capable of doing or dismissing her work in the senate as not as important as his work in the fighting. It's made me irrationally upset since I first watched the show at like 10

Ngl I think a lot of people, when they talk about Jedi and attachments and how "the Jedi should be allowed to have them," just plain ignore the single most important show of attachment in all of Star Wars.

Padme and Anakin.

Obviously people bring them up 24/7 when they want to bash the Jedi or pretend that Anidala is the epitome of a "healthy relationship" (lmao), but when it comes to the actual point of how their relationship is framed and how it highlights how attachment works/what it does---suddenly all the discussion around Anakin and Padme disappears!

Anakin's attachment to Padme and his unwillingness to let her go is LITERALLY what ends up killing her!!!

He has dreams of her dying, becomes convinced that those dreams are what's gonna happen (despite the unreliable nature of visions), and---instead of actually telling anyone anything in enough detail so they could actually help---he:

- Starts working with a Sith Lord

- Massacres a Temple full of children, the elderly, the injured, etc. and the people who were caring for them

- Helps commit a genocide

- Overthrows democracy

And then, once Padme won't support him vying for them to control the galaxy, he becomes convinced that she's betrayed him and attempts to kill her---then, later on, because of Anakin's actions Padme dies.

----------

THAT is what attachment is and what it does.

Attachment is being unable, unwilling, to let someone go, no matter what that might mean for you or them, because you don't want to go through life without them---and the people you try to hold onto so tight ultimately get crushed in your grip because of it.

Think of it like holding someone's hand.

Non-attachment would be, when the other person wants to stop, letting them slip away and being happy with what you had while you had it---being content whether they choose to stay by your side or run off to go do something else.

Attachment would be, when the other person tries to let go, tightening your grip or grabbing their wrist---hurting them because you don't want there to even be a chance that you would be without them.

----------

So no, the Jedi were not wrong to teach non-attachment and they should not have "changed their philosophies so they were allowed to have attachments" like some people have suggested, because attachment is unhealthy and selfish and all it does is end up hurting those around you.

[starmy-sky]

Paws and Promises

Pairing: CEO!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Summary: You fiance has not once shown up to your wedding planning dates, in fact, he barely shows up at all. After ten months of being engaged and still no wedding or even solid plans for the ceremony, you seek comfort by adopting a cat that randomly showed up on your porch the same day Minho was supposed to go on a business trip.

Or... Minho gets karma for being a bad fiance by being turned into a cat.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Engaged!AU, Break Up, Negligence, Longing, Cat!Lee Know

Word Count: 4.1K (Masterlist)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"How long is the trip again?"

"Two weeks, Y/N."

"So I should schedule our wedding planner interviews by the third week?" You try to catch his eyes, but they were everywhere but on you. It's been like that for a while.

Minho busies himself packing a suitcase, letting out a half-minded hum. "Why can't you schedule it any other day? You're available."

Because you want it to be with him. You wanted to think of the motif with him, the flowers, the decorations, the guests, the cake flavor, the venue, the rings. It should be about you and him, not just you.

But... perhaps you're being too sentimental. You look at Minho now as the successful CEO he became from all his hardwork, he's serious, strategic, stoic. Unlike the Minho you met in your senior year of high school, the one that was silly, loud, and cheeky, sneakily slipping into your heart by acting both nonchalant while seemingly never getting enough of your attention.

Almost like a cat.

Maybe the Minho now isn't the type to want to be involved in menial things like planning the wedding, in fact, it seems as if he has no plans to be wed anytime at all, he's much too busy now.

You look down at your ring, a glimmering diamond adorned it while the metal that wraps around your finger forms into swoops that border the diamond. It's very beautiful, though he never explained to you why he chose that design, you always find yourself admiring the ring, a symbol of a future with him.

You smiled, trying to ease your feelings as you always do. "I'll keep that in mind." You answered, leaving the conversation to die once again.

...

It rained the day he left for the business trip, the sky mirroring your feelings of sorrow as you're reminded that he'll probably be a ghost the whole two weeks.

He's already pretty elusive when he's there, staying at the office late and going in early in the morning. You've always been thankful for him, providing for you even before you got engaged and letting you quit your less than ideal office job when he did propose.

Your thoughts were cut off when rough scratching rings from the door, panicked mews accompanying them as you rush to open.

A tuxedo cat barges into the house as if it lived there, grumbling in annoyance as it pounces on the rug to dry itself from the rain.

As it does so, it starts to screech at you. "Y/N, Y/N, it's me! I'm Minho, I have no idea what happened, but you need to call an ambulance or a vet, or even a wizard!"

"Honey, honey, it's okay, you're safe here..."

"No the hell it's not okay! I got turned into a cat!"

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." You gently shush the cat, stepping closer inch by inch.

"Can't you understand me?!"

"Aww, I wish I can understand what you're meowing about, honey."

"...I'm doomed."

It was supposed to be a normal day for Minho, an unluckly, but albeit normal day. As he's about to leave for the airport from the office, he realized he forgot some documents at home.

He decided to leave his luggage in his office and drive back home to get the documents. As luck would have it, his car breaks down in the middle of the rain. He curses the sky as he opens the door to check if there's any way to get home, only for lightning to strike accompanied by blinding light.

The next second he opens his eyes, he had paws and whiskers and he was only a few inches off the ground.

Scared, he runs home as fast as he could, clawing at your door and now he's here, utterly doomed.

...

It's been five days and Lino, the name you have the cat, had no intention of going back outside. In fact, he struts around the place like he knows it by heart.

His relentless meows have not gone away either, at least once an hour he sits by your side or jumps to stand face to face with you and frantically meow his heart out, almost like he's desperately trying to make you understand him.

You just sum it up that maybe he's just a really active and talkative cat, and you continue to indulge him by nodding and smiling and scratching behind his ears and chin.

Minho puffs up frustrated sighs everytime.

"Magic exists and I was cursed to turn into a cat, Y/N!"

"Lino, you're demanding more food? You just cleaned out your whole bowl 20 minutes ago." You giggled as the cat seemed to stomp at your reply.

"You didn't put enough and you know I have a big appetite. Oh, and you have to find out how turn me back into a human!"

"Aww, my little kitty is upset, you want some pets?" You scooped up the grumpy cat and placed him on your lap on the couch.

"No, I don't want pets, Y/N! Can't you see that this is your fiancé in front of you?"

He swears it was the cat side of him that immediately calmed down and leaned into you touch when you started to scratch his chin. And it was definitely that same side that pawed at your hand when you stopped.

As his eyes slowly closed in content, a picture frame on the side table caught his attention. It was a picture of you and him.

Minho sits up immediately and leaps to the picture. "Here, here!" He points at the picture of himself and then his cat body.

You stand in shock, looking at the picture of you and your fiance. "You're right, Lino..." Minho felt like he could leap in joy at your response.

"I should call him... it's been almost a week since we last spoke."

He meows in protest, but it was too late as you already went ahead and grabbed your phone.

Minho remembers that he left his luggage and phone in his office when he drove back home to get some of the documents he forgot. His office was completly inaccessible to anyone when he's away and his phone was in silent mode.

Of course no one was gonna answer you. But you didn't know that. Minho stares at you in frustration first, still not being able to effectively communicate with you.

But as he looks up at you again, the faint expression of excitement replaced with slow defeat as you call goes to voicemail, his eyes soften from that of annoyance to... he doesn't know.

But he doesn't like that look on your beautiful face.

"Hey, my love, just calling in to check on you. I'm sure you must be busy, but I want you to know that I really miss you, okay?" Despite your mood shifting when he didn't answer, you tried to keep your voice happy, unaware of the knowing look from the cat beside you.

He listens intently at your words. "Take care of yourself and don't skip on sleep or meals. Okay, I love you... c-call me when you can."

You end your message, looking back at the cat with a smile that held back the emotion in your eyes. "Well, that could've have gone better."

"He's busy, you know? And every second of his day is important." You sigh, leaning into the couch cushions and closing your eyes. "Can't expect him to be thinking of me too when he's already got so much on his mind."

Minho thinks he could spare a call and maybe a few texts, just so he doesn't ever get to see that solemn look on your face.

He gets back up on your lap, cuddling into your stomach, and for the first time since he came in, he stays quiet, purring softly as if to comfort you.

You look down at him and smile, "Thank you, honey, I needed that."

...

Your heart never rests, and everyday you did the same thing, calling him and never getting answered, leaving a voice message that never seems to be heard. Minho sticks by your side each time, and your glad that you have a companion that cuddles up to after each disappointing call.

His little cat heart begins to ache a bit. He shouldn't have gotten used to it, to shrugging off your missed calls, to replying late to your messages, to not being there. Not when your lips turn into a frown that he had the privilege of usually never seeing before because he actually made you happy back then.

He made you happy back then...

But now? He can't even see what he makes you feel because he's never there.

And when he's here... he's a stinking cat!

You wipe your tears before they make it past your cheeks, looking at the lack of any reply on your phone. The ring on your finger glimmers beside your phone, reminding you of the promise of marriage that never seems to come.

Minho's cat eyes find the same ring, and a guilty feeling consumes him. That ring, it looks out of place on you finger, and he knows why.

...

Two weeks.

He's supposed to be home today.

Yet still no reply.

Lino has calmed down now, no more meowing fit and screaming in your face or trying to make you understand, though he still does have some weird behavior like using the toilet instead of the cat litter you bought him, tucking himself next to you in bed like a human, going into Minho's office and just staring at the papers on his desk. And for a cat, he's awfully afraid of heights.

No matter how much of an odd cat he is, you have to admit that without him, you would have been in a depressive spiral trying to contact Minho. You've been left hanging for so long that you actually started to get worried that something may have happened to him.

"I should call his assistant, right? Something might have happened and he couldn't contact me." The cat bounced from his loaf position, walking eagerly to you.

"That's a great idea! Then they'll tell you that I didn't make it to my trip and I'm missing."

"Okay, here I go." The phone rings and soon his assitant picks up.

"Hello, you are calling Lee Corp. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I was just wondering if there's any news on Minho over there. If he's okay and whatnot."

"Oh." The voice at the other line seem to turn snarky as she realizes who you are. "Ms. Y/N, if Mr. Lee is not responding to you, then he must be very busy and has no time to check his phone."

Minho's head turns, he's never heard his assistant speak in such a condescending voice, especially not to his fiancé.

"There's no need to worry, Ms. Y/N, the team and I take good care of him, so your worry is not needed. I'm sure Mr. Lee is fine, and you should not bother contacting him because it might interfere with his important business."

Minho leaps to you lap, grumbling and hissing at your phone speaker. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Wait... can you call him for me? I just need to talk to him..." You pleaded, but you're met with a scoff.

"Ms. Y/N, there's no need for a call, Mr. Lee will be home soon and you can continue to cling to him as you please." The assistant hangs up at that, making you stare at your phone in disbelief.

Minho too was stunned by the sheer unprofessionalism of his assistant, he wishes he could have said something to defend you, to let you know that he won't let her speak to you like that.

Though for you, that call was a shot to your heart more than anything, inflating your insecurities as you stare at your reflection on the screen.

He doesn't need you, you are only a bother to him, you cling to him while he tries to move forward. Maybe that's why he's so miserable in your relationship.

Tears start to quietly fall from your eyes as you let your thoughts take over you. Minho immediately paws at your face, but you avoid it, hugging your legs and crying into your knees, keeping yourself hidden from his gaze.

You feel his paws at your side, his body trying to snuggle closer to you, but no matter how much you try to appreciate it, no amount of comfort can make you feel better right now.

...

It was another rainy night, still no sign of Minho despite him supposedly coming home today.

You prepared Lino's dinner, but he seemed far too anxious to eat.

He can't eat when he sees you constantly looking at your phone with a deep thought, typing up something only to delete it later.

He wonders what could be in your mind, you might be mad at him, he understands. He also wonders if he's ever gonna turn back to human, or is he just forced to watch as you begin to believe that he has left you with no explanation.

Your phone starts to ring, and he immediately bolts to your side on the kitchen counter.

You're calling him again, and he hates that he can't answer, that he can't make up some excuse so you don't have to believe that he's ignoring you on purpose.

Unsurprisingly, it goes to voicemail. You sigh heavily, as if bracing yourself to let it all out on a recording that you're not even sure he's gonna listen to. He does the same, his heart pounding at what you could possibly say to him.

"Hey, Minho, I don't know if you're getting my messages, if you are, I don't even know if you bother to listen to them."

"I wanted to talk to you about us, and what I've been feeling."

Minho's eyes never falter from your dishearted figure.

"I haven't heard from you this entire two weeks, and honestly, I haven't heard much this past few months."

"I know, I'm sorry, my love."

"And I know it's unfair to demand your attention when you're already so busy, but I... I-I just wanted to see you more, and for you to see me too." You try to contain your sobs, hoping to let out more words before your an incoherent mess.

"You deserve my attention, and so much more."

"I have loved you since we were in high school, and more and more every single day after that."

"I feel the same way..."

"But maybe your love isn't the same as mine anymore. Maybe you grew tired."

"Please don't say that..."

"A-And that's why I feel like I should let you go."

"Please don't let me go..."

"I want you to be happy, Minho, to find someone that you can love wholeheartedly. To love your past, present, and make your future beautiful."

"That's you, Y/N."

"Please know that I do still love you and-" *beep*

*Voicemail has exceeded the time limit.*

"God I hate you too..."

Minho looks up at you, his cat eyes glossy. He wishes for you to keep going, to let it out and let him hear all of his wrongdoings.

"I hate you for promising me that I'll be marrying the love of my life, I hate you for ignoring me when all I wanted was to love you, I hate you for taking away the Minho I fell in love with for a decade. I hate you for making me love you no matter how much it hurts me."

Your phone lays flat on the counter, catching your tears as you cry your message into the air.

"I just wish you're here right now... so you would know how much it hurts."

"I'm here..." He meows at your sorrow, head down in shame.

The sound of metal hitting marble catches his ear, and in the next second he sees your figure returning to your room, while beside him, your ring wobbles slightly before it lands flatly right in front of his face.

...

It took two hours before the sobs from your room has calmed down, two hours before the storm outside picked up to accompany thunder. Two hours and he stays planted in his place.

Minho silently stared at the ring on the counter, his eyes trained on it as if it was a threat. He lays on the counter semi-loaf, paws under his chin as he stares unblinking at the ring.

Stupid ring. Ugly, meaningless, basic. That's what he thinks of it.

You derserve better, not just the first thing he saw when he went into the jewelry store. He got a random ring, proposed to you on a random day, and treated it like it meant nothing.

He did it because he was scared, he saw the way you started looking so down months ago, he saw how you no longer lit up the way you did around him, he saw the space between you expanding and he couldn't have that.

He was scared to lose you, so he proposed. And the way you lit up again ten times brighter brought him a sense of security.

Candles eventually burn out and he saw that even after getting a ring, you never escaped the emptiness that haunted your relationship.

It's his fault, for working himself to death, for acting like his work was his life, for thinking that one gesture is all it takes to make you happy again when all you ever wanted was him.

You deserve better, a better ring, a better fiancé.

Minho whimpers slightly, tears clouding his dilated eyes. He doesn't blink them away, he just stares at the ring as if it led to all of his mishaps.

He designs a ring in his mind, one that isn't just a band with an expensive diamond stuck to it, one with meaning, with designs that capture you and him. He imagines giving it to you on the anniversary of when you agreed to be his girlfriend, under twinkling stars and surrounded by fireflies, on the hill he took you to have a chilly night picnic. You would scream yes and he would almost roll down the hill in full excitement.

Instead he proposed in your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. You still cried, you still smiled so happily and kissed him in fervor. He knows that no matter what, you would be grateful, but he beats himself up for not even making an effort.

And now you're slipping away...

You emerge from the bedroom, still with bloodshot eyes, but no longer hiccuping sobs. "Lino, still didn't eat, honey?" You scratch under his ear, and only then did he close his eyes to lean in to your touch.

Minho looks up at you, "I love you, Y/N..." He mutters the most heartfelt meows you've ever heard from a cat. It's a shame you can't understand him.

You sigh, seeing from the still full cat bowl that the cat did not really feel like eating. You slowly lift him off the counter, craddling him in your arms. "How about we just go to bed now and then you can have a big breakfast?"

He hums as he snuggles into your embrace, and you smile at how he seems to really understand you. His heart aches at how beautiful your heart is, how it's always been, because he feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in your arms.

You lay in bed, placing him on top of your chest. He loafs on you, and you both quietly stare at each other.

"Tomorrow, we're gonna go to my mom's house. And we're gonna stay there for a while..." He sees a packed suitcase placed by the closet, the closet just open enough for him to see the lack of your clothes in there.

He also notices the missing items around the room that you would normally keep in there own places. Other than your presence, you completly wiped the room of you.

"Don't go..." He gently meows at you, eyes once again filling with tears.

"Are you crying, honey?" You asked worriedly, knowing you're not getting a response. "Why are your eyes so sad, my sweet kitty?" You pet him gently, heart aching at the sight of the glossy eyed cat.

"Don't leave me..."

You think that maybe he's attched to your home and he doesn't want to leave. "It's okay, honey, you'll always be with me."

"I should've been... I should always be with you..."

His meows sounded like painful whispers, eluding to a feeling you can't quite understand from him. You press a kiss on his nose, comforting the seemingly distressed cat.

Thundet roars outside, and a flash of light appears to blind the entire room.

"Don't leave me..."

You breathe heavily, your eyes wide.

"Minho?"

Lino the cat was gone and suddenly it was Minho on top of you, legs in between yours while his face hides in the crook of your neck. You feel his tears warm on your skin as he exhales sobs against you.

He expects you to push him off, to berate him and leave right now, he clings on tightly just in case.

But instead, he feels one hand brushing through his hair and another soothing his back. "There there, my love, it's okay..."

And because it's you saying it, he believes it.

...

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"The lightning turned me into a cat and I was trying to tell you for two weeks but you couldn't understand me." Minho was tucked under the blanket after changing from his suit to his nightwear, looking at you with boba eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"So you're Lino?" He nods at your question.

Your heart drops, he has seen you moping and hurting and even breaking down. "That's why you weren't answering my calls?" He nods again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." He lifts his hand from beneath the blanket to hold your hand. "Not just about these two weeks, but every single day I made you feel neglected. We promised each other that we'd always be there, and I got so used to you always being here when I come home, I forgot to be here for you when I am home. I was consumed by work, by always trying to be on top, but I forgot that all of this... was for us, for my dream future with you."

Tears stain both of your cheeks, and though Minho was never fond of talking about feelings or getting too serious, he finds that talking to you and you finally understanding him was a huge privilege.

"Minho... I dreamed everyday of our future, and I can't imagine myself still being here while you work yourself to death and-"

"I know, and I won't do that, not anymore. Not when my favorite person is always home waiting for me. I can't imagine a future without you, Y/N, you're all I've ever loved about life..." He sits up, caressing your hand with both of his, feeling your fingers.

"I-I'm sorry I took off the ring, Minho..."

"No... I should be sorry, for giving you a crappy ring in a crappy proposal..." He sighs, remembering the lack of thought in a supposedly meaningful event.

"I was crying happy tears that night..."

"But you deserve better, and I need to deserve you again, if you would have me."

You smile slightly. "I want to have you... but maybe not with a ring right now..."

He nods frantically. "I'll take that, besides, I need more months to plan my next proposal." You giggled as he wipes away the last of your tears. "For now... let me focus on spending more time with you, like we used to.

"I'd like that..." You reply, right as he stomach grumbles, signaling his hunger. "I told you to eat, Lino."

Minho chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Can we eat now?"

You hum, leading him out of the bed and into the kitchen.

What you didn't expect was a tuxedo cat on your kitchen counter, the engagement ring in its mouth as it looks surprised at you two.

It hurried to escape through the slightly ajar back door. "What was that?" You stood in shock, looking at the window to see that the cat has jumped the fence.

"Maybe it was for the best. I already have a ring idea in my mind, anyway."

Seven months later, he brought you to the hill, just as he imagined, got down on one knee and proposed to you with a ring with diamonds placed in the shape of a cat's paw.

And it took another five months to plan the wedding because it turns out he was a lot more particular than you were gonna be.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglists (SFW): @bleuuujpg @seungpuppymongmong @princesskrystix @aquariusscollection @chims-dimple @norabugz @diekleinesuesse @like-diamondsinthesky @isadd666 @btch8008s @geni-627 @purplelady85 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @chanchansgirly @emilyywhyy @veronica123

[he4rken]

can i request some PLATONIC forsaken killers x teen!reader? if u dont wanna write a bunch just pls include 1x1x1x1, mafioso, and coolkid. the reader can be gender neutral and they have a kind of sassy and easily angered personality but it’s mainly to cover up how much they hate being in forsaken. their technique is brute force with a bit of mind games, so they kind of appear around the map randomly to freak out survivors and just uses some knife to kill them. thank you!

THEY'RE PLAYING MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, YOU KNOW I'M SCARED OF EMOS! | Killer teen!reader headcanons

— I desperately hope I understood your request right. To keep it less crowded and that it meets your wishes, I only wrote 1x1x1x1, Mafioso and of course c00lkidd (separately). Additionally it's written in headcanon formatting..? If that's the right word. (Also prattles, Noli release, obviously I'm posting two fics in one day) (side note, I'm not gonna write for Noli just yet)

WARNINGS: reader is going through a phase, basic forsaken round stuff (murdering)

MAFIOSO

— Mafioso won't necessarily... care? Sure, he acknowledges your existence but that's about it. What's so interesting about a kid running around harming other's when c00lkidd himself also exists? Nothing special here.

— But he's also petty. I don't think he'd usually indulge with talking to kids but you should at least be hitting puberty? You could definitely talk like an adult! Which was the most brightest thought he had before personally getting taken aback.

"So, how have you been doing?"

"Go away you're wrinkly and old."

— He had to bite his tongue. Just teens trying to be all tough and stuff! Which he won't even bother setting off further. Kids aren't his thing and obviously he isn't wrinkly! He's aged fine.

— First he thought you did have some personal beef with him for no reason whatsoever. But then he saw you going off on others if they were even one step too close to you.

— Genuinely what was your problem? Angsty teen phases don't last this long, certainly you must be a special case. Is he gonna bother with it? Nope! Not his problem.

— Hypothetically, if two killers in one round existed as a mode and both of you got paired up, first thing he did say to you was "you aren't killing anyone with your comments". Obviously that got a nasty reaction out of you immediately. All Mafioso did was snicker slightly, it's a bit funny actually.

— Till he got whiplash, again. You went for quite literally anybody you even saw for a millisecond! There wasn't even a thought process on any action you were doing, you just went straight for it! Most concern he actually had was witnessing you stabbing... uh, what was this guy's name again? The pizza delivery guy, over and over again even though he was long dead.

— Man, teens are surprisingly scary! He kinda did think he set off your anger more at the start, but this happened over and over and over again. Okay maybe you're just letting your anger out on the survivors since there aren't any consequences here, that's fine.... Nothing bad....

— Highly impressive in his opinion though. Maybe when you are in a good mood he could quickly shoot you a compliment on how quickly you do take care of the survivors! Or maybe nicely bribe you to catch them off guard while he ends them himself.

— But of course, he isn't necessarily gonna. How do you convince an angsty teen with anything? At least you acknowledge his small compliments on doing well! Even if majority of the time you flip him off.

— In general Mafioso wouldn't necessarily bother with you, kids aren't his thing! Especially snappy ones, he fights a lot of urges to snap back at you. At least you're useful in rounds!

C00LKIDD

— Perhaps the only one who actually wants to be around you. To c00lkidd, a kid a bit above his age doesn't matter to him, all that matters is that you both can play together and have fun!

— Your remarks barely take effect on him, worst you can get out of him is a pout with a whiny "you're so mean!" comment. That's just your way of having fun, right? C00lkidd happily attempts to come off just as sassy as you just so both of you can share the same fun, isn't that just generous of him?

— Of course when you do actually go off on c00lkidd with whatever anger reached its peak, he backs off or either stares like a deer caught in headlights, eventually his expression morphing into one where he almost looks like he's about to cry.

— He forgives you though! Perhaps he just wasn't playing right. He'll get it right till you won't lash out on him anymore!

— This can also be the only instance where you can be open with one of the killers. C00lkidd is, well, a kid himself. Maybe still really childish, but he passes enough to lend an ear. In comparison he doesn't really understand why you're upset about being here, everything is fun.... It's a game when a round starts! So why are you so upset every time?

— Again, with the hypothetical of two killers in one round, c00lkidd practically beamed. He can impress you how good he is at roughhousing, even offering on "ganging up" one of the survivors so it's fair play for both of you! But, well, your way of roughhousing was a bit extreme. Even for c00lkidd.

— It's fun when you catch the survivors off guard! They hadn't seen you around the corner so, obviously, c00lkidd is gonna give them a punch or two in a way to say "better be more attentive next time". Anything else just... Somewhat awkward?

— While it only sinks in slowly for c00lkidd after the round is finished that this was not some sort of game, it immediately sinks in that the survivors are not napping with the way you stab them over and over again with a knife in hand.

— He could really only stare. Perhaps awkwardly shuffle away to leave you to what you were doing. You were just a bit angry at that person! Surely you'll play less extreme next time.

— c00lkidd really just wants to play, even if he's a little slow on understanding your behavior. He doesn't have any malicious intent. He's just trying to have some fun with someone who's also considered a kid!

1x1x1x1 (all pronouns were used in this! Reminder they're genderfluid)

— A creation made out of hatred, I think you can guess what type of feelings they have towards you.

— Kids are already annoying. c00lkidd wasn't even an exception for 1x1x1x1, he's just a natural hater. It just adds more into his hatred with how easily you get angered. Compared to Mafioso, they aren't gonna bite their tongue, in fact they snap just right back at you which ultimately turns into a screaming match. 90% of the times both of you had to get seperated before either of you got physical. (Isn't even annoying, 1x1x1x1 would just get made fun of for getting riled up over a kid)

— With that, she just ignores your existence entirely. Getting upset over an angsty teen? Not her style. One glance and they're immediately sending daggers your way.

— Fortunately (or unfortunately), everything either of you do is what everyone receives. Perhaps this would annoy him even more cause how dare you act similarly with others, if not perhaps you're going more extreme on him specifically too!

— But she can shrug you off, even though she practically starts fuming without barely having seeing you. He's getting upset over a kid, a kid! Obviously that's unbelievable. He can't be standing this low. So you're existence is basically nothing to them.

— Till the hypothetical two killers in one round starts. They're not having it.

— Begrudgingly, they tell you to stay out of their way, receiving not only an eye roll from you but you also flip them off. Just great.

— The round went smoothly. They haven't seen you yet which is great! It's so positive that 1x1x1x1 starts hating it too. What's even more annoying is how suddenly easy it is to kill a survivor cause they blindly run right into them.

— It's annoyingly too easy. Not even that, they're running into her while looking like they saw a ghost! They should be running away from him and not look like they're purposely running right at him.

— That's before they found out the source. And of course, it just had to be you.

— For someone who still is so young, you were oddly more violent than c00lkidd. It's not like he was purposely seeking you out, no, they just stumbled upon you while chasing down a survivor.

— Not only did you snatch their kill you also don't even get off the survivor! Stabbing them so many times they practically become unrecognizable. 1x1x1x1 could just awkwardly leave the scene, since when are kids so violent..?

— When the round was over, everything goes back to how it was before being paired up, by not acknowledging you exist. Making the round too easy? Unbelievable.... Okay maybe they were a bit impressed with how quickly the round was finished, but that faded away so quickly she immediately becomes negative about it.

— Eventually, maybe, perhaps never, she'd actually voice a bit that you've impressed him. Even though it might come out condescending. You can't really get any positivity out of them....

— They're just a hater in the end. Gotta suck it up.

[kissandtellus]

Hello! ^-^

I was thinking on requesting the LADS men tending to a sick MC (I've been sick these last days and reading them helping the MC may comfort me ;w; )

…and in Health

Synopsis: You are under the weather:(( but good thing you have your LI there for you!

Warning: Mention of sickness and vomiting, use of Gege in a heartbreaking way, but otherwise super fluffy!

💉Xavier

Xavier had finished up a rough mission against some strong Wanderers before clocking out and heading over to your apartment.

He held onto a bag that contained a bowl of your favorite soup along with a few extra blankets.

He knew you weren’t feeling good since you had called off from work that day and he wanted to make sure you were alright.

He soon arrived at your apartment door and gave it a few gentle knocks.

Xavier waited outside of your door for a few moments.

When you answered the door his heart ached at the sight of you. You were still dressed in your pajamas and wrapped up in a blanket. He noticed your pale complexion and runny nose.

His expression softened and he stepped inside before pulling you against his chest. He held you close to him and gently brushed the hair away from your face before speaking,

"You're burning up.”

You sniffle and shake your head. “N-Nu uh…” you try to stand straighter, but a cold chill ran down your spine and you grew sick

Xavier could tell you were trying to put on a brave face, but it was obvious that you were not okay. He could feel how hot your skin was against his touch, and he noticed how your body trembled against him.

He frowned and wrapped an arm around your waist to support you, leading you over to the couch.

"Don't be prideful, you're sick. Just lay down and rest." He commanded in a gentle voice.

He helped you to the couch and sat you down on the cushions before placing a hand on your forehead again.

He tsked and shook his head, you were incredibly hot and he could see the exhaustion in your eyes.

He reached into the bag he had brought with him and pulled out the bowl of soup, placing it onto the coffee table in front of you.

"You need to eat something and take some medicine." He said, his expression giving you no room to argue.

You groaned and pouted but you knew he was right.

He was always like that. Always making sure you were taken care of and staying healthy. You knew he just wanted what was best for you, and even though you were feeling miserable you couldn't help but smile a little when you looked up at him.

Xavier handed you a spoon for the soup and then placed a few Tylenol pills in your palm.

"Take these and then I'm tucking you into bed." He stated bluntly.

You leaned against him, tucking your head under his chin. “You don’t gotta do this…” you pout, wiping your nose with a tissue.

Xavier sighed and ran his hand through your hair, his touch gentle yet firm.

"I want to do this." He said softly. "You're sick and it's my job as your boyfriend to take care of you when you're not feeling well."

He pressed a kiss against the top of your head and pulled you even closer against him.

"Now stop protesting and just let me take care of you, darling."

You couldn't help but melt against him at his words.

Xavier was always stubbornly protective and you knew that there was no use arguing with him once he made up his mind.

He was an amazing boyfriend, and even though you hated feeling sick, you had to admit that being taken care of by him wasn't so bad.

"Fine…" you mumbled, burying your face into his chest.

💉Rafayel

Rafayel sighed when he heard a knock on the door. With an annoyed frown, he pushed himself up from the stool and went to open it, fully intending to give whoever dared to disturb him a grumpy remark.

He expected his assistant or maybe a stalker fan.

But as soon as he laid his eyes on you, and the miserable state you were in, any annoyance in him melted away, immediately replaced by concern.

"Darling, why are you here? You look horrible.”

“Thanks babe.” You huff, shuffling from foot to foot.

He gently reached out, placing a hand on your forehead to check your temperature, and felt the heat radiating from your skin.

“You're burning up... You should have stayed in bed, you idiot." He scolded, but there was no malice in his tone, only worry.

He stepped aside, gesturing for you to step inside. “C'mon, come in. You're obviously not going anywhere like this."

You sniffle and shuffle in. You were wearing one of Rafayel’s sweaters, shivering like a small dog. “I-I wanted to see you. We have our date tonight…”

He closed the door behind you, shaking his head in mild disbelief at your stubbornness.

"Darling, as lovely as it is to see you, I think our date can wait until you're not a walking fever."

He watched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to suppress the chills from your shivering.

"You look like you're about to collapse. Have you even been taking care of yourself?"

He gently took you by the wrist and led you over to the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down.

"Stay here. I'll go get you something warm to drink."

He left you in the living room and walked to the tea pot Thomas insisted he purchase.

A few minutes later, he returned to the living room, carrying a steaming mug of what smelled like peppermint tea in one hand, and a blanket and pillow in the other.

You curl up in a tight little ball. Normally you were the one taking care of your drama king of a boyfriend, but now the tables were turned.

He gently placed the pillow under your head and draped the blanket over you. He then sat down on the edge of the sofa, setting the mug of tea on the coffee table in front of you.

He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of you bundled up like a little burrito.

"The mighty bodyguard, brought down by a simple cold. Who would've thought?" He teased, gently patting your head.

He watched as you attempted to glare at him, but the effect was a bit ruined by your sneezing and sniffling.

"Don't give me that look. It's not my fault you have terrible self-care habits." He reached out, tucking the blanket tighter around you. He then took the cup of tea from the coffee table and held it out to you.

"Drink this. It'll help soothe your throat."

“I can thank of other ways to soothe my throat,” you tease with an arched brow as you take a sip.

He chuckled and propped his head up on his hand. “Oh Cutie, we both know that’ll just make it worse~.”

💉Zayne

Your efforts to hide your illness from Zayne proved futile as he entered home after his shift. The lingering smell of antiseptic that he carried with him after work couldn't mask his keen sense of concern.

He knew the smell of sickness, he was accustomed to it. he took off his white coat so just his scrubs remained. “Darling, are you awake?” he called out into the house.

Zayne made his way through the house, following the scent until he found you hidden away in the corner of the bedroom. His expression softened at the sight of you trying to stay strong, even when you were feeling down.

"How long has it been going on?"

He kneeled before you, gently brushing his fingers against your forehead to check your temperature. His touch was comforting, and his voice filled with concern. Worry clouded his eyes as he tried to assess your condition.

“I’m not achoo sick!” You pout. You reminded him of how cats acted when they felt sick or weak, hiding away so others couldn’t see your weakness.

Zayne couldn't help but chuckle at your stubborn denial, but he quickly composed himself, "A sneezing kitten, it seems.”

With utmost tenderness, he swept you up into his arms, ensuring you were wrapped securely in a bundle of blankets. He carried you to the living room, gently situating you on the couch, taking extra care to ensure your comfort.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with your diagnosis, my little snowflake," he teased, a soft smile gracing his lips.

He fetched a cup of your favorite tea and some medicine from his medical bag, setting them on the table before you. "While the tea may help with your congestion, I must insist that you take this medicine. We wouldn't want you feeling worse now, would we?"

With unwavering support, he stayed by your side, ensuring your every need is met, all the while his gentle gaze never left you.

"I'll make arrangements to stay home tomorrow I can't bear to leave you alone in such a state."

Your eyes narrow at the liquid medication that was supposed to taste like “elderberry”, but the smell alone made you want to throw up all over again. “No.” You huffed and hid your face under the blanket.

"Yes,” he insisted firmly, though his voice was laced with affection. He knew how much you hated medications, but he also knew how important it was for your recovery.

"Snowflake, you won’t get any better like this.," he gently coaxed, his touch on your cheek gentle.

"Afterwards, you can have all the sweets you want. Deal?"

You poked your head up. “But it’s so gross…”

He chuckled softly, "I'm afraid not even my position as Chief Cardiologist can make the medicine taste better than it is," he admitted with a hint of amusement, his touch on your cheek is tender and assuring.

"I know you can get through this, Snowflake. It'll help you recover faster so we can return to our normal routines. But this," he gestured to the cup of medicine, "isn't just about medicine it's about caring for you in every way I can."

His words were soft but firm, a steady promise of support.

You pinch your nose as you take the cap full of medicine. Your entire body shivers and you fight the nausea. “That’s fucking gross…”

A low laugh escaped from Zayne's lips. "Language, Snowflake," the reprimand held no real edge, only the warmth of his affection.

"Your bravery is noted and appreciated, even if it is in the face of foul-tasting medicine," he teased, his voice gently playful as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"You see? Not so bad after all. Now, what kind of sweets would you like?"

You cling to his arm, ignoring the roughness of his scrubs, “You.”

It took a moment for his brain to register your answer, but when it did, a soft chuckle escaped him, and his cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink.

"Well, then, it seems my Snowflake has a sweet tooth that can only be satisfied in the realm of my embrace," he teased, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

With a gentle pull, he drew you closer, enveloping you. "All yours." he murmured, placing a tender kiss upon your forehead.

💉Caleb

You are lying in bed, miserable and sick. Your head is throbbing, and your nose is stuffed full of tissues. Caleb walks into the room, carrying a steaming mug of tea.

"Hey, Honey. How are you feeling?" he asks as he sets the mug down on the bedside table. He sits down on the edge of the bed. His hand reaches out to feel your forehead.

“I feel like death.” You admit, rotting further into the bed.

Caleb chuckles at your dramatic description, though concern is written on his features. He takes your hand in both of his, rubbing it gently.

"You poor thing." he murmurs, his tone sympathetic. "You definitely look like it.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze, groaning at another throb of your skull. “Can you get me the medication in the cabinet? Wait actually-“ you stomach turns, and you try to move fast enough to grab the waste bin. “Fuck-“

Seeing the color drain from your face, Caleb acts quickly, grabbing the bin and holding it in front of you just in time as your stomach turns. He winces sympathetically, rubbing your back with his free hand.

"It's okay, get it out." he encourages, his voice gentle. Once you're finished, he sets the bin aside and helps you lean back against the pillows.

"Stay here," he says firmly. "I'm getting those meds."

Your hand weakly shoots out to grab his sleeve, your eyes are filled with tears. “D-don’t go. When I get sick I…I think about us back at the Lab. I just need you here…”

Caleb pauses at your words, his gaze softening. He gently untangles your hand from his sleeve before interlacing your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm here." he promises, his voice thick with reassurance. His other hand finds your hair, gently brushing the strands back from your face. "I'm not going anywhere."

He sits back on the edge of the bed beside you, his thumb caressing slowly back and forth across your knuckles.

You rest your head on his shoulder as he hums a tune under his breath, trying to lull you back to sleep. “Don’t go….”

Caleb shifts so that you're leaning against him more comfortably, pulling the blanket around you both. His free hand moves gently across your back in slow, soothing motions.

"I won't." he whispers, his voice soft and reassuring. He leans down and presses a tender kiss against your temple. "Close your eyes, sweetheart. I'm right here."

Despite the throbbing pain in your head, fatigue washes over you, aided by the comforting presence of Caleb beside you. He continues to hum his soothing tune and run his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and tender.

Gradually, your breathing slows, and you feel your body relaxing into the mattress. The tension in your muscles begins to melt away as you start to doze off.

"That's it." Caleb murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just rest. I've got you."

As you stir from your sleep, you immediately notice the absence of Caleb beside you on the bed. The sudden loss of his warmth sparks a moment of panic, and you call out his name in a trembling voice.

A moment later, Caleb appears in the doorway, carrying a bottle of medication. He notices your distressed expression and quickly crosses the room to your bedside.

"Hey, hey." he reassures you, sitting down beside you. "I'm right here. I just went to get you something to help. How are you feeling?"

You say nothing, arms reaching out as you fight back your tears. “Gege….”

The name you had dropped long ago, makes his heart ache. He realizes it’s not just his sick partner in the bed, it’s the little girl who went through so much. Caleb immediately reaches out in return, his expression softening further when he sees your emotional state. He pulls you into a m embrace, cradling your body against his chest.

"It's okay, Pipsqueak. I'm right here." he whispers, his voice tender and soothing. His hand rubs soothingly up and down your back. "You're safe and I'm not going anywhere."

💉Sylus

You are sick, extremely so.

You were supposed to train with Sylus for boxing. You enter his home gym with a hoodie pulled tight around your head. “Sorry I’m late…”

Sylus looked up from securing his boxing gloves, eyebrow quirked at the sight of you bundled up like a bear in the winter.

"You alright there, Sweetie? I didn't realize you'd come dressed for a snowstorm." He padded over, hands gently reaching out to tug at your hood. "It's not even that cold in here, you know."

A chill runs through your body and you sniffle. Wearing clothes like this to visit Sylus wasn’t out of the normal, nor were the dark sunglasses you wore. But you weren’t hiding from the public eye this time. “I think I’m sick.”

He tilted his head, studying your appearance. His hands reached out, pulling off your sunglasses to get a better look at your face and swollen eyes.

"Sick? You do look a little pale." He hummed, reaching a hand to touch your forehead.

His skin felt pleasantly cool compared to your own, you even leaned into his touch.

"Alright, no training today.” He quickly stripped from his hand wraps.

You pout and pull the strings of your hoodie tighter as if the fabric can hide you away.

“No. You promised.”

Sylus huffed out a soft laugh. "I think you being sick trumps a promise. Besides, this is an opportunity for me to dote on you. Who knows, I might discover a new talent I possess other than hitting hard which is nursing my princess back to health.” His teasing tone was tinged with care.

Sylus leads you out of the gym and towards his living room by the shoulders like guiding a toddler. “I know where the living room is Sy.”

He rolled his eyes, his grip on your shoulders staying firm. "And I know how stubborn you can be, Y/n. You're sick. Let me take care of you," he replied, steering you to the living room and making you sit on the plush, overstuffed cushions.

As you settled into the comfort of the big couch, Sylus disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear the sounds of him rummaging around.

You glanced around the room, the decor a testament to a comfortable yet practical lifestyle, a balance of elegance and comfort, much you. You had insisted Sylus include such plushies and less spiky things and guns.. A soft quilt was draped over the top of the couch that you quickly pulled over yourself while you suppressed a cough.

When Sylus returned, he held a tray adorned with a steaming bowl of soup, a mug of fragrant tea, and a couple of medicines. He set it down on the coffee table in front of you, then sat down beside you, an arm resting around your shoulders.

"Alright, princess, let's get you better. Soup first, then medicine?"

You couldn't help but smile at how Sylus took charge, even though your heart skipped a beat or two from his closeness, how his arm pulled you tight against his side. Being fussed over like this was nice, even if it meant confessing your weakness by being sick.

"Soup first," you agreed, reaching for the spoon. "Thanks, Sylus."

"Of course, Sweetie." he replied, running a hand over your head affectionately, "But don't think this means I'll always be this soft, alright?"

“Aw dang, just when I was starting to like it.”

[m4mmonthebest]

// AMAB reader, AFAB volt and Eddie. Pet play. Overstim and edging.

One particular bad argument has you storming out of the Breaker Room fists clenched.

When you don't come for over a week, Volt and Eddie have to stop themselves from running to you and begging you to talk to them. All the others coming to have a fun time find themselves worried over their attitude. Volt tries to keep the happy facade but can be seen spacing out and sighing when he thinks nobody is looking.

Eddie continues doing his job but in such a shitty mood people try to avoid him all together. It comes to a point where some of the objects in the house come to you telling you to make up.

You don't want your fight to make everyone else's lives more miserable, but you also have your pride. You decide that a punishment will be enough of an apology for you.

"...Livewire..."

Volt wants to run to you, but he contains himself. Eddie looks at you with sad eyes that make you want to kiss him until he feels better.

"Hey. Up for a drink?"

While the mood is sour at first, it quickly becomes warmer and warmer, as they begin to realize how much they've missed you, your laugh, the way your eyes wrinkle when you smile, your voice, and your touch.... they really miss your touch.

You laugh, you don't even know about what and your face gets closer to Volt's. You open your eyes to his bright red face, a look on him like someone looking at a starry night for the first time.

Your hand lands on his leg gently and he has to look away in shame.

"Livewire... I'm - I'm sorry. "

"We...We are sorry."

You'd like to smirk but using your judgment decide not to. Instead you look into their eyes first Eddie's and then Volt's.

" You can do better than that."

They both look taken aback by your words. Not sure exactly what you mean but their hearts feel a bit pained at the words.

"By that I mean... you can make it up to me."

Their ears perk up at the mention of those words. Many thoughts fill their brain, none holy.

".... We'll do anything. Just say the word."

...

They weren't expecting to be blindfolded and legs tied up to their arms. They lay down on a bed, legs spread open, their cunts wet with excitement.

You slap their genitals and their bodies jump, they whine out loud.

Your hands expertly teases their folds, making sure to pay just enough attention to their clits to be pleasurable and also to make them mad.

"F-fuck- Livewire-!"

You don't let them get to the bring, giving them enough to feel like they're burning, but not what they want. It comes to a point where they try to hump your hand just so you can slap their pussies.

"Please please please Livewire please!"

"What do you want Volt...? You know this is about me having fun not you, right?"

You can feel Eddie choke a sob when you slap their cunts again, roughing up their clits with your palm.

"I know- fuck- we know- but please-"

You give them what they want, at least that's what they think at first. Your fingers expertly work the boys until their legs are twitching and they're saying your name like a prayer. But when they're about to cum...you stop.

"F-fuck fuck you!"

Eddie didn't meant to say that out loud, but being teased like that for more than 20 minutes was taking its toll on him.

You can see actual tears leaving Volt's eyes as he bites his lip quite hard. You can feel both of their bodies twitching and shaking, cunts begging to be filled.

"Do you think you deserve to cum?"

"Please-"

"Do you think you deserve to cum?"

You can hear a full on dog whine leaving Volt's mouth. You decide to pamper him, one of your hands massaging Eddie's cunt while the other caresses Volt's face. He melts into the touch, small whines leaving his mouth as he forces his face further into your palm.

"Fffuuuck-"

The room fills with Eddie's grunts.

"Volt is being such a good boy. Maybe he deserves a reward?"

Volt's whole demeanor shifts, and if he had a tail he would be wagging it. He tries his best to maneuver his body without seeing and tied up, without much effort. You decide to help him out and you position him in your lap. When he feels your hard cock on his face he begins to mouth at it, licking it and sniffing it.

"Good boy. You're a good boy aren't you!"

"Arf ...❤️❤️❤️"

You're a bit sad that his hair is made of literal electricity, or else you'd be petting his head.

You hear a sad whine from Eddie, which you know is because you're not paying much attention to him, just playing with his cunt to mess with him further.

"Are you a good boy Eddie?"

"F-fuck off-"

"Hmmm.....maybe I should just fuck Volt instead then?"

Volt's ears perk when you say that, pussy twitching with excitement. You see Eddie's neediness fighting against his own pride.

"Ah but don't worry. I'll get you to say it. I'll make a quick trip, be right back."

A string of saliva connects your clothes cock to Volt's mouth, and at the separation he begins to whine sadly, it seems like you've played with him enough for him to forget his usual smooth tongue.

"Don't worry puppy, won't take long."

You leave and they start to feel your absence seconds later. Volt continues whining, a low sad whine which makes Eddie's heart break. He's feeling damn needy himself, he just want to be pampered, damn, his pride is not letting him but please call him a good boy. Please just tell him he's doing so good for you. Eddie tries his best to move with his arms tied to his legs, which causes him to roll onto his side right next to Volt's face. He kisses whatever he seems able to catch with his lips, and in return Volt does the same.

It's true, you don't take long, but when you come back they're in the middle of a heated make out session.

"Well. And who told you guys you could do that...?"

Both of them immediately stop their kissing, and they try to move to their original spots but seem unable to.

"Poor puppies. Let me help you out."

You separate them, causing a sad moan from both of them.

"Shhhh none of that. I'll give you what you want finally."

"Well. To Volt. I've got something else for you Eddie."

Eddie swallows hard, nervousness creeping under his skin, but he also feels himself clenching at the thought of what you've prepared for him.

You get rid of your pants, positioning your cock with Volt's cunt and he moans beautifully, he's also panting... tongue sticking out.

You grind against him slowly, while you prepare what you've bought.

You position a small vibrator on Eddie's clit, inserting another longer one inside of his vagina. He grunts at the intrusion, eyebrows furrowing tightly.

He seems to be shaking now. A small whine escapes his mouth, which he quickly tries to cover up and fails when you activate both of the toys.

"AAAAGH!!!!"

You don't spare him. Maximum intensity since the beginning as you slowly begin to make your way inside of Volt.

Volt's walls twitch wildly, as his whines become progressively needy.

The room is filled with the sounds of Volt and Eddie's voice. Eddie sounds like he's getting tortured, loud moans get broken by desperate sobs as he cums intensely, you can see him squirt all over the bed as his legs shake.

Volt is not holding up great either, his panting gets progressively faster, moans escaping through his whines. He sounds just like when a dog is crying for its master in a desolate room, but these are not cries of sadness, but blissed out ones.

"Hey puppy, want me to come inside...?"

If you thought Volt couldn't get any whinier or louder, you were wrong. He sobs between each loud whine, as he tries getting you as deep as possible.

You can hear Eddie scream again, a loud fuck and a distraught sob leaving his mouth as he cums for the third time.

Your thrusting gets erratic, and with one more deep thrust you paint Volt's walls white.

Not a whine, not a moan, not a sob or a grunt but somehow the four of those combined come out of Volt, as his cunt basically chokes you, extracting every single drop of your seed.

You pull out, which makes the man below you pout. Of course, you don't forget about Eddie, turning off the toys.

His legs twitch as best as they can in his position. You quickly untie both men and bring them to rest their heads on your chest.

They pant, and you begin to soothe them by kissing their faces and softly moving your hands through their bodies in a soft manner.

"Good boy Volt."

He makes a sort of purring noise, rubbing against your chest.

"And... good boy Eddie."

He melts into your touch, he's extremely tired and he really wants the praises. This time he will even whine if you want him to.

"Such a good boy. You're a good boy aren't you?"

He nods, hiding his face on your chest.

"Can you say it...?"

He mumbles something really softly. You can't help it, you love to tease him.

"I couldn't hear that."

" 'm a g-good boy."

Damn. The blush on his face, the pout on his mouth and the glossy eyes threatening to spill tears pull at your heartstrings.

You rub his hair and scalp and he lets out a pathetic whine. Volt joins in even with his tiredness, not a word comes out of his mouth but just noises but even that is enough for Eddie to feel loved.

The tears do spill, and you make sure to kiss them all away.

"Good job, both of you."

The breaker box stays closed for a couple of days and most objects are unable to find you. You stay with Eddie and Volt through those days, making sure they're feeling loved and helping with the soreness that you left.

[firelilyfox]

a promise from the past

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: He saw you sacrificing yourself to safe his life. Now Bucky has to live with the guilt of loosing you - the love of his life. He is convinced that without you, life is not worth living anymore.

Until you return to him.

Wordcount: 2k ish

Warnings: anxiety. depression. (happy ending I promise). grief. loss. trauma. death. kissing. reunion. dating Bucky. established relationship. bad mental health. mention of injuries.

_________________

The heat under your feet almost drove you crazy. Your hands clung to the only thing that kept you from falling into the burning death.

Bucky. 

He was trapped under two heavy gas pipes, which crushed his upper body with each passing second. You could see how hard it was for him to catch his breath and by the painful expression on his face you could tell that at least one of his ribs was broken.

"Hold on tight! For god's sake, hold on tight, doll!” he shouted desperately. His fingers were like a vice around your wrist, already bruising the skin.

“Bucky...” your voice was no more than a frightened croak.

You could see how Steve, on the other side of the engine room, fighting with a handful of soldiers.

And then your eyes slid down again.

Gas tanks that exploded.

Flames that spread miles high.

Fear spreads in your muscles and makes them freeze. But the knowledge of the inevitable swiped away all thoughts from your consciousness.

End station. From here there was no escape.

You look up at Bucky. Tears blurred your vision. A grotesque smile was on your lips. In the face of your situation, it seemed strangely calm and gentle.

"Bucky, I'm sorry."

The words chased naked fear into his beautiful face. Darkened his clear, blue eyes in horror and despair.

His grip tightened. Your joint began to crack under the pressure. "No! No, love. Please don't do this to me!”

Your fingers loosened her clamp grip around his forearm and you feel how your arm slowly slipped from his hand. “It's okay. Someone has to get out of here. You have to live.”

He squirmed under the crushing weight of the pipes. "There is no life for me without you! That's not right. That can't have been it! Never.”

Bucky gathered his strength and tried to pull you over the edge of the platform with one arm, but couldn't. His shoulder was at an unnatural angle and he screamed.

Pain and despair resulted in an animalistic sound that even rose over the deafening rant of the flames below you.

You're sobbing. “Promise me you'll surive. No matter how. You have to survive.” You turn your arm so that Bucky loses his grip and can only grab your hand in the last second.

You give him a sad smile. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. Never forget that. We find each other in the next life. Promised.”

You let go of his hand and fall into the flames.

When Bucky woke up from the nightmare, he was sweaty. His pulse racing. And he was shaking all over his body.

The room lay in impenetrable darkness, but that did not reassure him at all. With wild glances, he searched his bedroom for a sign. After something that indicated that you were still with him.

But there was no one. Like every time he woke up from that dream, he realized that the same thing had happened.

Back in 1943.

You have fallen into the flames, sacrificed yourself for Bucky and bound him to a promise that he rather would like to break.

The promise to survive. It feels like he's dying. A little more every day.

Bucky turned on the small lamp next to him, leaning against the headboard of his bed. He looked at his hands.

His left hand - bionic, unnatural and cold. His right - still his own. Human.

He could still feel how he held you with it. Feel how his grip on your arm loosened.

He hated his hands. Wished he could cut off both of them.

His thoughts flew to the night of his rescue mission. He was held captive and tortured. Steve and you gained access to the Hydra base just to save him. He could still remember your face. How it appeared above him when he was tied to the examination table in a delirium. Even when he was completely pumped up with drugs and didn't even know how he had landed there - he recognized you.

Your lips felt warm and soft on his. They tasted salty because you couldn't stop crying.

You found me. He had said in a broken voice.

I'll always find you. You replied with a smile.

Bucky shook off the images. Since he had to relive his worst moments from Void, the images were clearer than ever. His therapist had advised him to write down these dreams and memories so that he could process them better.

He was tired of writing the same words. Again and again. His gaze slid to the pile of notebooks on the floor next to his bed. Not a single page left empty. Each page showed exactly the same words as the previous one.

Bucky stopped long ago putting the words on paper. He just wanted it to stop hurting.

"Wow, you look even more shitty today than usual."

John Walker drank his coffee from a cup printed with a hamster whose eyes were unnaturally large. Above the disfigured animal were words that Bucky could not decipher. It was one of Yelena's cups. She enjoyed printing them with some memes.

„Eat shit, John.“ 

His eyebrows shot up. "Woah. Calm down, dude. I didn't want to hurt your ego.” He paused for a moment to think about what to say. "Your hair looks great today."

Bucky showed him the middle finger. John nodded and devoted himself to his hamster cup again.

“Good morning, guys. We have a lot to do today.” Yelena entered the common room with a tablet in her hand and typed wildly on it.

"Without me. I have my own obligations," Bucky muttered irritably and raised a hand defensively in her direction.

Yelena frowned. "And that would be? A withdrawal? Bucky, you look terrible.”

"I told him that, too," John remarked.

"Who said what?" Bob entered the room together with Alexei.

Bucky sighed.

Ava appeared as if out of nowhere and opened the helmet of her suit. "Bucky looks like shit today."

Bob gasped. "That's not a nice thing to say, Ava!"

"I wasn't. John and Yelena said that. I just repeated it!”

“How long have you been standing there? Are you spying on us the whole time? That's pretty perverted.” John grunted indignantly.

„Ha. You wish.“ Ava snorted.

Bucky felt his patience finally shretched. He hit the stone table top with his fist and cracked it. A tense silence settled over the Thunderbolts.

"I'm busy," Bucky said threateningly calmly and disappeared from the common room.

He still heard how the others wondered about his strange behaviour, but that didn't interest him anymore. Lately, he didn't care at all. He knew that the others didn't mean it badly, but all Bucky wanted - was to be left alone.

Bucky spent the day throwing himself into training. He burdened his body so much that no more thoughts had room in his head. He ran away from them. Hit them. Tried to chase bullets into them. To push them away with pure muscle power.

Nothing helped.

His body was shivering with energy, pulsating with adrenaline, and yet he felt paralysed. Like the memory of you hanging on his back - impossible to shake off.

Guilt and infinite grief were all he could feel.

"If you continue to beat up the poor thing like this, it will report you for assault."

Bucky looked at the completely demolished concrete pillar. He had unintentionally put up with it. The punching bags were too soft and too light. They gave no resistance. So he could at least feel the pain of his flesh hand on impact.

"What do you want, Yelena?"

She snorted amused. "Damn, you're in a bad mood today. I thought you'd took it out on the architecture by now.” She nodded meaningfully to the pillar.

Bucky remained silent. With a gloomy look, he waited for Yelena to get to the point.

"Ugh, fine." She rolled her eyes. “We were on the road today and uncovered some of Valentina's greasy businesses. Among other things, a test laboratory in Brazil.”

She handed Bucky her tablet. Some documents were opened on it, but that was not what made Bucky almost faint.

There was a picture. Black and white and a terrible quality. But he recognized the person immediately.

"Impossible." He swifted through the data for more precise information. After a date when this image was taken.

"She's here, Bucky." The look on her face told him that she put the pieces together. Of course she did. Yelena always knows.

His world turned. He felt her tip over and he threatened to plunge over the cliff into endless nothingness. "What?"

Yelena nodded and Bucky had already disappeared from the training room.

Impossible.

No way.

He had seen you die. Bucky had allowed you to sacrifice yourself. Your death had been the greatest sin of his entire, far too long life.

But there you are. Surrounded by the Thunderbolts, which all looked pretty worn and dirty. You stand with your back to him as Bucky enters the room. But he would recognize your frame everywhere.

"Impossible," he murmured.

Yelena shurred past him and booted at the others to scare them out of the small hospital room. They obeyed reluctantly.

"How is that possible?"

You glance over your shoulder and your heart stopped. He still looked the same as he did back in 1943. Still the same beautiful face and the same clear, blue eyes. Only they were marked by pain and repentance. His hair was a little longer than it was then. And he was bigger, stronger.

Rougher. 

“Hi,” your voice was nothing more than a fragile whisper. But it broke the invisible barrier between you and Bucky didn't waste another second. With two long steps he was with you and closed you in his arms. Your body snuggled perfectly against his. The feeling of home flooded you.

You could feel how wildly his heart pulsed under your cheek. His smell clouded your senses. He even smelled like back then. How is this possible?

"I thought I'd lost you, doll." Bucky pressed a kiss on your hair without freeing you from the hug. "Impossible."

A tear-choked giggle came out of your mouth. "You repeat yourself."

Bucky leaned back to look at you. He noticed every inch of your face. Every little thing. His thumb stroked your cheek, wiping away the tears you couldn't hold back any longer. His fingers laid in the curve of your neck, gently brushing over the sensitive, soft skin.

Although, not quite.

Bucky noticed the scars for the first time. They showed sideways over your neck, up to your lower jaw and disappeared under the collar of your shirt.

Sheer horror was reflected in his eyes. You put your hand over his and avoid his gaze.

"I don't look quite the same as I used to. For the most part, everything is the same, but the fire has left its mark on me."

Bucky remained silent for a moment. You almost expect rejection, disgust in fact. Then he gently put his bionic fingers under your chin and lifted it so that you had to look at him.

"You are as beautiful as the day I lost you."

Then he kissed you.

His lips rested gently but firmly on yours. An invitation. A welcome home for your lonely heart. You get up on your tiptoes to give yourself completely to him. Your arms found their predetermined place around his neck.

Bucky pulled you closer to him, firmly and vigourously. It felt so good - real - to finally have you in his arms again. Your body was made for his. Your heart was connected to his, he could feel it. Your kiss tasted salty. Just like he remembered.

As you stepped away from each other, breathing heavily, Bucky touched your forehead with his, closing his eyes. He absorbed this moment. Called to mind that this was real. You are real. You're alive.

"You found me."

"I will always find you."

————————————-

Thank you so much for reading! 💙 All interactions are highly appreciated ✨ (but please don’t copy my work)

BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

[shapeless-roadkill]

ruined by fury

you are angry. you are angry and everyone knows it. the fire within you will not die, cannot die. for if it dies, you wont have a reason to burn. your rage simmers close to your chest, it boils near something you wont touch. you are angry because it is easier than anything else. you are angry because you choose it over pain. you are ruined because you cannot feel anything but your own ire.

--

an undoing influence

Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

--

utinam ne illum numquam conspexissem

translation: if only I had never seen them You're a person stuck in the past. You relive the good and the bad memories over and over until you remember that they are long gone, never to be relived, never to be fixed. You cannot change the past, and that haunts you.

--

neptune

you've been hurt, deeply. you're scared to make connections again after all that's happened, and you have a hard time believing people genuinely care about you. you tend to be a loner, struggling to fit in with acquaintances, and you probably feel like you're socially awkward. you're probably involved with various forms of art, music, or dance. you have detailed dreams and may be in touch with your spiritual side; the earth is your home and you feel most at peace in nature. your friend groups tend to be small, you don't interact with many people. though you've been hurt, you know that you still believe in the kindness of humanity. in the past or present, you feel like you haven't been loved the way you should be. despite all this, you are one hell of a light. the things you make are truly beautiful, and you are trying your best. you should be proud. Allow yourself to be adored the way you deserve. i love you.

--

a lotus flower, glimmering a dark pond

“seeing the mud around a lotus is pessimism, seeing a lotus in the mud is optimism.” ― amit kalantri, wealth of words — you're writing to your inner child because you want to show gratitude, paying homage to the ugly, murky waters that you've grown up in. perhaps you've experienced some of the rough conditions throughout your life at home or even in your own community/heritage overall. but despite this, you've learned how to rise above all of the adversity, as you've anchored your roots into the mud, just so that you could stay afloat and swift beautifully throughout life. remember, the muddy water never touches the inside of the lotus flower, as the layers of petals protects the purity from within.

A COLLECTION OF UQUIZZES THAT I PERSONALLY THINK ARE GREAT FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

What Tarot Card Are You? → LINK

What Color Does Your Love Feel Like? → LINK

How Are You Ruined? → LINK

Answer Some Questions and I’ll Read Your Vibes → LINK

What Latin Phrase Are You? → LINK

Let Me Assign You a Love Language → LINK

How Do You Best Like to Be Loved? → LINK

Which Tragic Character From Ancient Greek Literature Are You? → LINK

Go Through a Nighttime Routine and Ill Tell You What Kind of Villain You Are → LINK

Let Me Assign You a Celestial Body → LINK

What Human Emotion Are You → LINK

Choose Some Films and I’ll Tell You What Random Yet Oddly-Specific Film Trope You Are → LINK

What Is Your True Role in the Story? → LINK

Let Me Psychoanalyze You but Also Be Nice → LINK

If You Were a Deity, What Would You Be the God Of? → LINK

Which Rage Language Are You → LINK

Write a Letter to Your Inner Child + I’ll Tell You What Flower You’ve Blossomed Into → LINK

Why Are You Unlovable? ( Based on Things My Exes Told Me ) → LINK

[darlingxs-blog]

I followed you!! Just in the prologue alone! It’s so so good and I’m so so excited!!

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

MasterList

Masterlist - Saja Boys x reader "Soulbound"

══════════════════════════════

Basic Concept

General Warnings (will be changed soon)

Chapter 1 - "Every story has a dumb start."

Prologue - "Twisted Fates."

Chapter 2 - "Hostile denial."

Chapter 3 (TBA..) - "What is forbidden will be enticing."

To be continued!!

══════════════════════════════

Wattpad ver.

A/N- WAH!! Thank you all so much for following along and showing support! This means sososo much to me and I seriously love you all!! I decided to drop the masterlist today because the third chapter isn't even close to being finished and I don't want to just randomly stop posting...though I do feel bad for the people reading it on my wattpad account since I can't really publish a materlist there..

To Anon- you're words mean so much to me, like I couldn't begin to explain it so I hope you don't mind that I'm using your submission as a part of the masterlist...I have a reason I swear but I don't wanna yap anyone's ear off

A/N (just some things I wanted to say about myself as the author, you don't need to read)- yes I know that my writing isn't the greatest, and I'm trying to get better!! But this is my first fic I'm writing without using AI to spellcheck and grammar check at all. I didn't realize how hard it was until now 💀.

I stopped using AI when I started writing the prologue because I realized how harmful it was to earth and to my own creativity, I genuinely couldn't think of an idea without making sure Chatgpt agreed with me (which it always did cause it was programmed to do that) so I truly appreciate all the help and all the support I'm getting with a fic that was completely my idea and written by myself only fills me with so much happiness

I love you all sososo much!!

[formulafanfics13]

Welcome to the circus - F1 WAGS (& friends)

Masterlist

summary: When Alexandra brings you — her best friend and famously private supermodel — to brunch with the F1 WAGs, it sets off a chain reaction no one is prepared for. You’re elegant, mysterious, and instantly beloved. And when the girls go home? The grid loses its collective mind.

warnings: light chaos, group chat energy, flirting, obsession from afar, f1 drivers being down bad, wags being iconic, reader is intimidatingly hot and terrifyingly normal

The restaurant was already humming when Alexandra arrived.

Tucked into the shade of a lemon tree courtyard in the Monaco hills, Le Jardin was the kind of place that didn't need a sign, just a valet, an off-menu champagne list, and a permanent reservation under the words The Girlfriends. Every hostess knew what that meant.

Every hostess also knew not to ask too many questions.

Twelve of them were already there when Alexandra swept in, heels clacking softly on the polished stone. Carmen waved first, smiling from beneath a pair of tortoiseshell Prada sunglasses. Beside her, Lily Z was mid-laugh with Magui, and Kika was already holding a mimosa in one hand and her phone in the other, recording something for her private story. A chorus of hellos rang out — Rebecca, Kelly, Heidi, even Eli, with her legs tucked up on the chair like it was her living room. Alicia and Isabella were sharing a plate of burrata and whispering something about a designer being over.

But they all fell silent when they saw who walked in behind Alexandra. You. The model. The one half the grid followed, quietly and obsessively. The one who never posted too much, never tagged her locations, never did obvious press. You'd done Vogue Paris. You'd done runway. You'd gone viral more than once, but you'd never been accessible. And yet there you were, following Alexandra into a WAG brunch like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Everyone," Alexandra said, looping her arm through yours with a smirk, "this is my bestie. Finally."

Your voice was soft. Warm. That signature, careful smile. "Hey. So good to finally meet you all."

The silence lasted just a second too long. Carmen was the first to recover. "Oh my god," she breathed, eyes wide. "You're even hotter in person."

You laughed, bright and unbothered. "I hope that's not disappointing."

"Fucking the opposite," muttered Lily M-H under her breath, fanning herself.

The table erupted into motion.

Chairs scraped back. Rebecca practically yanked you into the empty seat beside her. Kelly was already pouring you a drink. Magui shoved her sunglasses up onto her head and leaned across the table, whispering something like are you single? because half this grid would die if you even blinked at them.

You took it all in stride. You always did. That was part of it, part of why the men whispered about you in hushed tones, part of why the drivers' group chat had lit up the second Alexandra posted a photo with you last month. You were a mystery. A low-voiced, high-cheekboned mystery in a backless sundress.

"So," Carmen asked, chin on her palm. "How long have you two been friends?"

"Three years," Alexandra answered for you, grinning. "She's the only person who didn't give a shit I was dating Charles."

"And now she's the only person Charles would probably risk it all for," Kika added, raising an eyebrow. "You should see his face when she posts on insta."

You sipped your mimosa. "Charles is sweet. But definitely not my type."

Alicia leaned in, curious. "And what is your type?"

You smiled. "I don't think he's on the grid."

Magui blinked. "Wait, that narrows it down to the team principals."

Everyone groaned. You just laughed again, slow and honeyed. "I plead the fifth."

The brunch unfolded around you like silk — flirtatious, chaotic, indulgent. Someone ordered truffle fries. Someone else knocked over a mimosa. Rebecca and Lily M-H started telling you about the group chat, and within minutes you were added to it under the name New Mother Superior. You didn’t protest.

"You don't understand," Heidi said, serious, leaning across her eggs Benedict. "You being here is like... a cultural reset."

"Like when Rihanna dropped Anti," said Eli.

"Or when Geri left the Spice Girls," said Isabella.

"No," corrected Kelly, sharp and certain. "It's like if Zendaya and Monica Bellucci had a baby and she showed up at brunch."

You blinked, a little stunned. "Wow."

"No pressure," Carmen smiled, sipping her drink. "We're just all obsessed with you."

You bit your lip and tucked your hair behind your ear. "That's mutual, by the way. You're all so much hotter in real life."

"Stop," Lily Z groaned, "you're going to make me cry."

"Too late," muttered Kika, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

When the bill came, none of them let you touch it. Alexandra shot you a wink and passed her black Centurion across the table. "Welcome to the circus."

"Wait until you find out about the grid," whispered Rebecca.

"What about them?" you asked.

Magui leaned in, eyes glinting. "Half of them are in love with you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Half?"

"Okay, maybe more."

"I heard Oscar has a saved folder of your shoots," muttered Lily Z.

"I heard Lando nearly crashed the simulator watching one of your TikToks," added Heidi.

"I know Pierre DM’d you last year," Kika said flatly. "Because I saw it."

You grinned, slow and delicious. "And I left him on read."

The table shrieked.

You fit in too easily. You were elegant chaos - the soft, sweet kind that turned heads without trying and left people wrecked in its wake. Alexandra knew it. Every WAG at that table knew it. Even the drivers knew it.

And the drivers had no idea what was coming for them when their girls arrived home...

The Chaos Back Home:

Carmen + George "She laughed at my joke." George: "I need to sit down harder."

Lily M-H + Alex "She drinks rosehip tea and the whole table just nodded like it was normal." Alex: "We're not surviving this season."

Lily Z + Oscar "She said she loves your driving style." Oscar: inhales sharply through a pillow

Magui + Lando Lando: "She was wearing silk." Magui: "She hugged me." Lando: "I'm calling my therapist."

Kika + Pierre "She said your name was Paul." Pierre: "...fucking hell."

Rebecca + Carlos Carlos: "I got lost on purpose just to ask her for directions again." Rebecca: smiling mid-toothpaste spit "That tracks."

Heidi + Daniel "She said you remind her of her golden retriever." Daniel: beaming "That still counts."

Hannah + Liam "She asked if you were the baby." Liam: smugly "I am the baby."

Eli + Kimi "She looks like she drinks poetry." Kimi: "I don’t know what that means." Eli: "She transcends."

Kelly + Max "She complimented my sunglasses." Max: "What did I post last week?"

Alicia + Ollie "She gave me her protein bar." Alicia: throws pillow "That's the problem!"

Isabella + Gabriel "I would leave you for her." Gabriel: nods "Honestly? I get it."

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! ❞

　every sip makes you even more drunk, forcing you to open up about your thoughts and worries or you have lots on your mind and got to speak up about it !

featuring. nagumo yoichi , asakura shin , seba natsuki !

content. 2.3k wc , up to 0.7-0.8k words per each drabble , comfort , fluff , a teeny tiny bit hurt , crack , characters may be ooc , spoiler - free , safe for minors , bad drinking habits , established relationships ,

author’s note. I feel like the characters are too ooc ugh, maybe I’m not made to write for the sakamoto days fandom. worry worry worry myself — I still hope you enjoy reading.

NAGUMO YOICHI.

　"ANOTHER one..." you plead.

Sliding the shot glass towards the bartender, who was in the middle of drying utensils, you could only breathe out in sorrow. But was it really sorrow if you felt sad through the drink?

"The same?" she questioned and grabbed the glass, putting it under water to wash it properly.

"Yesh..." you slurred over the word and tried to get the right sight of her. "I hafe him."

It wasn't long until tears glided down your cheeks — your shoulders began to quiver as loud and obnoxious sobs left your lips. "Ugh... I hafe him cho mush." you murmured incoherently.

"Hate who?" she chuckled, putting ice into the glass.

"Erm..." you trailed off and blinked slowly.

Who did you hate again?

"Someone." you leaned your cheek against your palm.

"Perhaps you're only drunk." she shook her head. "You don't actually hate the someone."

Her movements skilled and swift before she slid the glass back to you. Definitely, there was no need in denying. You were drunk, cheeks red and warm, daze vivid in the eyes.

"Nooo..." the denial was dragged out into the length, "I am NOT drunk..! I reallyyyy hafe someone."

"Oh really?" a hum left her lips, getting back to washing the remaining things in the sink. "Who do you hate then?"

"Yes, who do you hate?" you flinched as soon as another voice joined the conversation.

"Uh... I don't know..." the glass was about to graze your lips yet you lowered it again to answer her. "Wait..."

"I will wait." the man sat down next to you and titled his head to the side.

"B-Black medium-length black hair, black and large eyes... Err... Tall?"

He chuckled at the description, whole body turned to you with his cheek supported by his knuckles. "Really? That sounds like your husband." he gasped in surprise, feigning awe.

"My husband?" you didn't even look into his direction, yet you were still confused. "Yeah..."

Right. Your husband. Your gaze lingered on the shiny ring, cutely wrapped around your finger, before they wandered back to the new made drink. The edge of the glass came closer until it touched your lip.

"Dear, I never knew you hated me!" he said hurt, hand grasping your wrist softly.

"Hate you..? N-No, I don't." you stuttered, more sober than before — but the dazed mist was visible in your eyes.

"But I'm your husband." he chuckled and lowered your hand. "Now, now. I think that's enough for today."

"N-No..!" you reached out for the drink which was out of your reach though.

"Yes." he smiled at the bartender and placed a few bills on the counter. "Keep the change!"

"Have a good evening." she nodded and didn't watch how you two left the bar.

"Yoichi..." you whispered, leaning against your husband.

"That's my name." his arms found themselves under your knees and back again, quickly carrying you bridal-style without wasting another second.

"Yoichiiii..." you slurred out, automatically wrapping your arms around his neck. "I lobe you..."

"Well that's not what you told me moments ago." he teased and walked ahead.

"I hate you." you muttered, leaning your head against his shoulder while closing your eyes, "so much..."

"I'm sorry, yeah? Don't be mad at me." he apologised, sulking slightly like a little kid.

"No... I hate you." you stayed stubborn though, like always.

If you once made up your mind about something, you will not change it so easily. Unless it's absolutely necessary. Even in your drunken state, you're no one to easily accept an apology.

"Forgive me." he said once again, this time more firm. More serious.

You blinked tiredly, taking in his seriousness apology before tears welled up in your eyes again — now beginning to cry once again. The hug around his neck got even tighter.

"Y-You always take so looooong!" you cried and sobbed, snot everywhere. "I hate you so much!"

"Don't cry. I'm sorry, okay? I will stay longer this time." he sweat dropped.

"What d-do you mean longer..? So you're still going..!" you wiped away your tears.

"I didn't say that."

"Liar! Liar! Liar! You're sleeping... on the couch..!" you kicked your feet and slapped his face with your wet hand.

"Ack— I'm sorry! I'm not going anywhere!"

ASAKURA SHIN.

　"SAKAMOTO, can you believe it actually?" you cried out in disbelief.

The mentioned man sweat dropped as he could only watch how you began to cry and grip onto the bottle tightly. Should he stop you? Or maybe he should just leave? No, Aoi would be mad at him.

"He's so careless! Whenever you take him with you, he comes back bruised and all." you complained, tugging his sleeve.

That's not true at all. Actually only half way true. Shin tags along with him all the time, he doesn't accept no. And it's also true, Shin does come back with bruises and cuts every time.

No wonder why his girlfriend was worried despite knowing what kind of thing he does — and also his past. Yet it doesn't change the fact that you're always sick worried about him.

"Sort it out with him." Sakamoto didn't hesitate to stand up and walk away.

"Don't gooooo!" you cried out, hand reaching out for the older male.

He disappeared. Now you were alone again. You blinked slowly, gaze desperately searching for Sakamoto. Where was he? "Wahh!" your eyes suddenly starting to burn as you immediately stood up.

But the movement was too sudden, too fast for you half-asleep body to handle — making you stumble already and fall to the floor if it weren't for someone else. You lifted your head slowly.

"[name]?"

"Ah." you held his arms to back away, knitting your eyebrows in fury. "Who do you think you're touching! I have a boyfriend..! He can beat you up..."

"What a silly thing to say." the surprise faded and got replaced with a smile. "I'm your boyfriend, silly."

"You are?" you squinted your eyes, trying to recognise the man in front of you. "You look like... Shin."

"Because I am Shin."

"No... wait. I have a boyfriend?" you puzzled, getting confused with every other second passing. 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he nod his head in amusement, wrapping his hands gently around your wrists to get them off his arms. "Yes, you have a boyfriend named Shin. And I'm that Shin."

"Shin... Shin?" you repeated his name.

Without hesitation — you hugged him tightly, lower lip trembling slightly.

The action was out of nowhere, forcing him to step back in surprise. He patted your back, worry vivid on his face. But on the inside, he was cheering in joy.

Oh my god! You are the cutest.

"Ahem... W-What's wrong? Why are you crying?" he coughed in light embarrassment, rubbing your back up and down.

"Shin..." you whispered, tightening the grip around his clothes.

His eyes softened at your voice, taking in the vulnerable state of yours as he decided to handle you with the utmost care and love. "Mmh?" he hummed under his breath and mustered a smile.

"You..." eventually, you lifted your head again so he could see the furious expression on your face. "BITCH!"

"W-WHAT?"

Angrily gripping onto his clothes again, you shook him back and forth to make him dizzy — to make him feel bad. You aren't satisfied though, knowing that he did not feel the same pain and worry like you.

"How could you!? No— How can you! You always leave for stupid dangerous things and come back to me injured and don't even think about how sick worried I always am and, and..! You're so mean!"

"A-Ah, [name]..!" he caught your hands again, stopping you from shaking him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I don't mean to make you worried for me. I know how stupid I am... But please don't be mad at me."

"No. I'm still mad." despite the words, your dazed eyes softened as you pursed your lips. "I... erm hate you."

"[name], I'm sorry for being reckless and careless." he apologised again.

You furrowed your eyebrows at that.

"Please... I would do anything to change that but it's impossible. I think it's just part of me, unintentionally putting myself in danger to keep my..."

His cheeks reddened, just like yours. Yet there was difference. Yours were red from the alcohol and his were red from the sheer embarrassment, of admitting this.

"I errr... I wanna keep my loved ones safe." he didn't dare to meet your gaze again, too disappointed in himself.

Your lips formed a straight line, eyes widened ever so slightly as tried your best to process his words with a drunken mind. "Uh... Yeah..." you trailed off, not able to find an answer yet. You took time before replying, "fine. You're uh forgiven..."

"Really?" that was easy. Not that he's complaining.

"Mmh." you hummed and leaned your whole body weight against him, plopping your head on top of his shouler. "Yeah... I actually like you a looooooot. I don't hate you..."

"You don't hate me?" his eyes lit up at the words. "I love you too."

"Shin, you're so cool. Read my mind..."

"...Okay, I think you should go to sleep now."

SEBA NATSUKI.

　"UGH, I feel so sad." your lips quivered slightly.

The effect of the alcohol is kicking in, taking over your body and doing things without you being in control. You tightly gripped onto the glass and poured out all your heart's sorrow.

Maybe you wonder to whom you're saying all this? You aren't too sure to make out specific details yet you know it was a guy, a student from JCC and part of the invention apartment.

Like your boyfriend. Oh. Your boyfriend who had no time for you.

"He has no time for me at allllll!" you dragged out the last word into its length as you began to cry hysterically. "He doesn't love me anymore!"

"I'm sure he does though." the male sweat dropped.

Tears blocked your sight, blurring your view even more as you cried out obnoxiously. It fed the urge to drink more, immediately bringing the glass to your lips while crying.

"No, how would you even know! You rando!" you slammed the glass against the table in anger before it subsided into sadness again. "Ugh, he's such an asshole! Wahhh!"

"Oh, I think so too." the male agreed.

"I knew I wasn't the only one! See how he takes care of me! No he doesn't do it at all actually. He loves his hobby more than me..! I'm so sad! Can you feel my sadness!?" you exclaimed and sobbed.

"Well, I can see your sadness." he was right. You were crying, after all.

"Huh..." you let out in confusion and brushed it off again, "I think he's cheating on me... He hasn't been replying my messages for a while and he doesn't like my post at all."

It felt like you were shrinking with every word leaving your lips while you stared at the table, head feeling dizzy. "Never answers my call... Never visits me... It's always the other way around. He's cheating."

"Cheating huh?"

"Yeah! With a woman who's a lot more beautiful and attractive and cute and sweet and kind and caring and and... And less annoying, less me..." you trailed off, hand on your lap and the other around the glass, eyes glued to the table.

You were staring at your reflection, taking in the ugly sight of you crying and sobbing. "Perhaps a more loving woman. And someone he could love more." you blinked. "What do you say?"

"I believe that he isn't cheating. I know he isn't cheating."

"You're taking his sight huh... To cover him. You a friend or something?" you lifted your head slowly to look at him. "What I just beat your ass?"

Dazed eyes staring at the male who sat across of you, to be more specific it was your boyfriend sitting there. He stared at you in monotony, finding no joy in drinking like you did.

"Oh hey... You look like my boyfriend." you noted and hiccuped. "My boyfriend... My boyfriend—"

"Perhaps, I'm the boyfriend." he sighed out and stood up from his seat, walking over to you.

"You're not... You're trying to cover him huh, you bitch." you glared at him, venom seeping out. "Or you're trying to seduce me! Who are you!"

"I'm your boyfriend." he sat down next to you, leaning close to let you take a proper look.

"No... You're not. You fake. I have a boyfriend! Get away!" you tried to push him away yet he didn't budge an inch. "Fakey! Get away!"

"I'm Seba Natsuki." he introduced himself and gently grabbed your hand.

"Natsuki? Seba Natsuki..? You even got the same name as my boyfriend." you blinked and squinted your eyes. "Who are you really? Get away..."

"Should I really?" he loosened the grip around your hand, about to back away.

"No, don't go!" you cried out and held onto his clothes. "Don't go, Natsuki! Don't go to that woman! Pleaseee! I love you too much!"

"[name], I'm not going anywhere." he sweat dropped.

"Really?" you hiccuped but your head felt too heavy to even move, almost dropping.

And it did drop, too heavy for your drunken body as it almost fell to the table. Almost — if it weren't for your boyfriend catching you at the right time, hand underneath your head.

"Look at you." he sighed. "Drunk and stupid. You really think I'd cheat?"

"Yeah... Are you though..?" you kept your eyes closed.

"No. I'm sorry. I will better myself. And sorry for not answering. I had to use my phone for a project." he explained briefly, laying your head softly on the table. "And I'm sorry if it seems like I have no time for you. I will clear my schedule for you."

"Mmh really?"

"Promise. But only in exchange to not think I got another girlfriend."

"Alright... I'm cuter right? And sweeter? And prettier? And kinder, more caring, less annoying..."

"Yeah. You are a lot better, the best."

"I know."

© 2025 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

[darklinaforever]

What... ?

Or maybe it's just you who doesn't understand the word grooming and all that it implies ? 😑

And you're also trying to simplify my point and intentionally distort it ?

I literally cited Palpatine as an example of grooming, who is a man.

Also... Orlok is hot for you ? The fucking joke ! We're talking about a living, rotting body full of maggots.

Thomas is hot on the other hand, and yet I clearly criticize him in tons of posts. And he is not the only (hot) male character I take down on my tumblr by the way (even if they are endgame by the way) ?

Also you want hot men who are groomers that I recognize as such ?

Ezra and Wren on Pretty Little Liars for beginning ?

My post (or others mirroring it) literally talks about the fact that all the women I mentioned are at one point defended when they are clearly the aggressors in this context but that the men who are their victims are demonized because they are not pure heroes and are in fact morally ambiguous.

I am also talking about the tendency to want to permanently victimize female characters for something they are not to amplify the problems they already suffer.

Because obviously it is impossible for women in fiction to be attracted to these morally reprehensible men themselves unless they have been groomed.

I don't know if you realize how much of a misogynistic take this is ?

Imagine that women must constantly be manipulated in an extreme way to want a bad man or for doing bad things ?

I'm literally criticizing the fact that for many women can only be victims (even when they are not, specifically in the sense understood by these people, so grooming for Alina, Ellen and Rin), not aggressors (when they clearly are, as with Lucille and Laurel), and men only aggressors even when they are canonically the victims (like Tyler, Kylo and Thomas).

Why are you trying to turn the situation around without any real arguments ? All you're trying to do is deflect the topic.

Not to mention trying to reduce me to a worshipper of male beauty specifically ?

I'm bi.

If I defended men solely for their beauty, I would do it with women as well, especially Lucille and Laurel who are played by absolutely magnificent actresses.

Oh and using the word grooming like you know what you're talking about I guess you also think that makes you smart (not to mention all the other bullshit you just told me and that I mentioned) ?

It's pathetic honestly.

I've made tons of posts (and reblogged a lot of them as well) that explain in detail why Sesshomaru, Daemon, and Orlok aren't actually groomers. So I don't have to explain anything on the subject here.

I'd invite you to go read them, but something tells me that seeing their length (since such a subject is important and complex, it makes sense to pay special attention to it, even more so when the three characters concerned come from completely different times than ours, therefore inevitably involving talking about the historical context), something tells me that you'll probably ironically say that "it's too long and that you don't have time to read nonsense of grooming supporters !" 🤪

Because all you care about is appearing superficially morally intelligent and superior. Not really knowing and understanding what you're talking about and how to talk about it.

Either way you're clearly a troll, I don't even understand why I bother.

Goodbye.

I need to remind you of this again.

Rin was not groomed and pedophiled by Sesshomaru.

Alina Starkov was not groomed and pedophiled by the Darkling.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was not groomed and pedophiled by Daemon Targaryen (show or book).

Ellen Hutter was not groomed and pedophiled by Orlok.

But in other hand...

Tyler Galpin was groomed by Laurel Gates.

Kylo Ren was groomed by Snoke / Palpatine.

Thomas Sharpe was groomed by his older sister Lucille Sharpe.

It's funny that this trend has always used the word grooming specifically for female characters who are not victims of it in order to demonize the male characters involved (at all, or more than the story already does) for reasons probably linked to the delirium of purity culture.

On the other hand, notice that when a morally gray male character is the victim of grooming in the story, it is rather denial in order to continue to demonize the male character to make him the complete aggressor of the heroine who happens to be the romantic interest of the morally ambiguous guy.

So again this notion of victimizing the female character in order to make her the victim of the man when generally, the man and the woman in this second type of story are in fact both victims of a superior antagonist.

But this narrative truth does not interest the type of people we are talking about. No, the only thing that interests them is only to make the woman the willing victim of the man in a morally ambiguous romance that they cannot support.