#like every other month they are asking for money and whenever

[sidesteppostinghours]

I need to stop finishing fics when i have to sleep. but anway. heres 1.3k words of f!chentega, plus a bit of unnamed sidestep for funsies.

Chen is cutting Ortega's hair.

They've both settled into her living room, a bottle of beer set on the table. She's buzzed, not drunk, just enough alcohol in her system to get the words flowing easier. Chen, ever responsible, hasn't touched a drop. He focuses on cutting and brushing, mechanical hands careful not to get the comb tangled in her wavy hair. Julia, meanwhile, is talking, but about what, she couldn't tell you. Half of her thoughts are elsewhere, eyes closed as she lets Chen work.

Cutting Ortega's hair has become their own little ritual. Every few months or so, whenever her hair became long enough to bother her, she would call Wei over to cut it down to length. Sometimes she returns the favour, though that mostly entails grabbing a razor and shaving until it was completely cropped. Not like this, where skills actually mattered to make the results look good.

It was suggested to her, uncharacteristically, by Chen. About a year or so after she first cut her hair, she was lamenting to him about how she missed having short hair. She was just talking– she didn't expect him to take it seriously, but about ten minutes into her rant he had looked up from where he was typing on his computer and asked, "Do you want me to cut it?"

She had given him a look. "You can do that?"

He shrugged. "I know some styles. I can make it look decent, at least."

"Are you sure?" she'd asked, still skeptical. Not that she wouldn't be grateful, but-

"You don't have to deal with the stylists anymore," he pointed out, and that had been that. She found out later on that he learned how to cut hair from his siblings. He would mostly do it on his brothers, though sometimes his sisters too, when the money was tight or his family didn't feel like heading to the stylist.

It's nice, sitting here and talking to him like nothing else matters. A moment of reprieve to catch their breath in the pressure bomb that is their lives. Julia cracks a joke, and Chen huffs in amusement, though he doesn't stop cutting. She takes another pull from her bottle.

Maybe one day she'll ask the questions she's been meaning to. They still haven't talked about whatever this is. Neither Chen nor Ortega are good with their words, and there isn't much that isn't already said by the pocket moments they spend watching eachother navigate the world. The look in other people's eyes when somebody calls Wei "he". The way the stylists purse their lips whenever Julia walks into the studio. The understanding was unspoken but mutual, though Ortega could never place what. Chen might be able to, but until she decides to ask, she wouldn't know.

She will. Someday. Just not today, sitting in front of her TV, talking about God-knows-what and content to let him work till he finally steps away.

"Finished."

She opens her eyes, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror though its propped up on the table next to the beer. They've done this enough times already that she knows it will look good. Instead, she watches as Chen puts everything away, combs, clippers, the works. She nabs the scissors from the table, spinning it on her finger. When he goes to grab them and finds nothing, he looks up and sighs, the corner of his lip twitching at her antics.

"Julia, you're going to stab someone's eye out."

"Hey, I can dodge scissors," she insists, looking at him innocently. "Can you, Marshal?"

His face is caught halfway between exasparated and unimpressed. She chuckles and acquiesces, handing the scissors for him to pack into his bag.

It's not often nowadays that Julia gets to spend time with Wei outside of the Rangers. He was always busy as the Marshal dealing with the mess she left behind, and when she wasn't busy at the HQ or fighting villains, she was twelve balls of yarn deep into her own investigations. The quiet moments were rare enough that it feels precious to watch him like this, walls down, for once without the furrow in his brow as he worked. It makes him look softer.

It makes him look handsome.

"Hey, Wei?"

He turns to face her, still holding the scissors. "Yes?"

Julia could be completely wrong about everything, of course. He could recoil the minute she cups his face, or push her away as she pulls him in. He could, but he doesn't, and his lips are warm when they meet hers. His breath tastes better than she thought. She doesn't know why she would think otherwise– Julia was the one drinking beer the whole time. She traces her thumb over one of the scars on his cheek, rough yet soft, and a part of her wonders what it would be like to run her tongue over it.

It's a beat or two before anything happens, long enough that she worries she really did misjudge. Then, ever so slowly, Chen settles a hand on her face, careful, almost afraid. Not even touching the hair he spent the past thirty minutes working on. His hand moves from her cheek down to her chin, gently tilting her head upwards to make it easier from where he's standing. Julia wraps a hand around his neck and brings him down lower, and he obliges like putty. No trace of the hard edges she'd come to see as his staple, just a tenderness she never remembers seeing in him before.

It's harder to break the kiss than she would like. Wei doesn't resist. He's still holding the scissors. She half expected him to have dropped it, but instead he's gripping them tight enough that she wonders if they'll break.

"Julia?" Brittle. Out of breath. Still looking at her lips at first, but then his eyes flit to the side of her face, and with a breath that's not quite a huff, he tucks a stray strand of hair she hadn't even noticed behind her ear.

"Thank you," she whispers, barely loud enough to be heard in the silence of her apartment. For being her friend. For being the only goddamn woman left in Los Diablos that really got her. For caring enough to keep her hair out of her face.

She says none of this. She just turns back around, not looking to see Chen's face as she takes another pull from her bottle.

———

"I think Chen has a crush on you." 

"Oh." She stops, looking at you with an expression you can't quite interpret. "You do." The words are careful, hesitant. It's not a question, but it's not not one either. 

"I do," you say, frowning at her reaction. It's not the explosive confusion you were expecting, more a quiet "oh, shit" moment as the ball drops. She hasn't even raised her voice yet. "I'm pretty sure he has for a while." 

"Did he...tell you that?" 

"Not in so many words, but he has his tells." 

"He does," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. There's a sigh punctuated by a string of quiet curses. 

"Did you already know?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. She didn't react the way you thought she would. Did she pick up on it? Has she just been ignoring it the entire time? 

"In a way," she admits, looking away to the coffee machine like she wants to make herself another cup. 

"Why haven't you done anything about it?" Knowing Ortega, she should've ambushed Chen the moment she suspected that was the case. 

"It's complicated." She shakes her head, dispelling whatever thundercloud was brewing behind her static shielded mind, then turns back to you with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him. In the meantime, you can tell me why you're here?" 

You can't help but frown. She's taking this too well for something to not be going on, but from the look in her eyes, you're not getting any answers right now. 

You'll find the time to pry one of them about it. Later. It's not a secret those two can keep away from you forever.

[tariah23]

Here we go again

[no-144444]

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants. 

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 

Newsflash: extremely. 

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 

You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 

Even walking around the apartment naked. 

But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

 He would honestly be pretty good. 

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 

He fucks you all night. 

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 

He heard you two last night. 

He was 4 doors down. 

Oops. 

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 

They ask him what for. 

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 

He didn't really care. 

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk. 

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 

He has to make up for lost time, right? 

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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 

He has absolutely no shame about it either. 

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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 

The month was torture though. 

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 

You were impressed at how long he lasted. 

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot. 

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 

He heard you, of course. 

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 

He vows to win next year. 

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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 

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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do. 

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 

 But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

some jayvik headcanons to pass the time and ignore the pain

There is a Viktor fan club at the academy. He is unaware. They discuss his projects, his accent, his looks. Meetings are the last Thursday of every month.

Jayce accidentally stumbled into one of the meetings. They barely played off they were talking about his partner. (He still can't find any info on the "book" they were talking about, thinking Caitlyn would be interested.) (He forgets that Victorian-looking men with accents aren't on her radar.)

Jayce also has a fan club. He is aware of it. (They have invited him to meetings). They talk about his projects, his hair, his face, his line of mugs. Their banner is one of his shirts. (He is unaware of this part.)

Viktor is also aware of the club. (He gave them the shirt.)

Jayce and Viktor both hate the cold (Jayce for the snowstorm, Viktor for his leg) so whenever it was winter they were bundled up like the kid from A Christmas Story.

Viktor mixes up metaphors. He constantly uses malaphors (unintentionally) and Jayce doesn't have it in his heart to correct him. "All the ducks are aligning" is his favorite by far.

Jayce tried learning Viktor's native language to surprise him one day. (I imagine it as a mix of Czech and Polish). He ended up saying a mix of a whole bunch of nonsense, so confidently) which made Viktor laugh himself into a coughing fit.

more under cut cause this is getting long

(Viktor couldn't look at Jayce for two days after without laughing.)

Viktor has a sweet tooth, Jayce has a savory one.

Their third year as lab partners, a section of the library caught on fire. The culprit was never found. (It was them, and they both blame the other.) (It was Viktor)

Jayce enjoys suspenseful novels. Viktor, when he can be persuaded, enjoys historical fiction.

Their mortal enemy is the student who's lab is across from theirs. Viktor hates him because he's egotistical with no real skill. Jayce hates him because he always complains they're making too much noise. Their mortal enemy is unaware he is their mortal enemy.

They have a "days without incident" chart in their lab. Incidents no longer include cuts, scrapes, bruises, small explosions, broken prototypes, because if they did it would always be at 0.

Their fifth year, the auditorium stage caught on fire. A group of first years were blamed. (It was Jayce, though Viktor thought it wasn't a big deal.)

Jayce is organized, Viktor is not. Jayce puts things in organized shelves, Viktor puts things where he knows he'll need them next. This is a point of tension for the longest time, until Mel stepped in and told them to either compromise or get two of everything.

They got two of everything.

Jayce designed Viktor's cane (after the first one broke) and his leg brace.

Viktor can play the harp. Jayce can play the piano.

Everyone believes Viktor is the one keeping Jayce under control in experiments. (as referenced in this post) No one knows besides Heimerdinger that Viktor learned lab safety in a drug den. The counsel refers to Viktor as the "sane, calm one" but only Mel and Cassandra know the truth. Both think it's funnier to not deny it.

Viktor stays at Jayce's place most often. Jayce secretly moved most of Viktor's things to his place, until officially asking him to move in.

Jayce also helped design a new back brace for Viktor. It was more comfortable, made of thick cloth, and relieved so much back pain he started crying when he tried it on. This is what got them together, because Viktor kissed him in thanks, and Jayce was like "finally!!" and started kissing him back.

Money was exchanged after the Academy/Counsel found out they became official. Shoola, Mel and Cassandra got a big payout. Heimerdinger had no idea about the bet, mostly because he thought they were already together.

This led to the fanclub war. Jayce fans vs Viktor fans, until a hero came around (Sky) and was like, why not both? (And thus, the Jayvik fan-club was born)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Can we get some Sugar Daddy König X Sugar Baby Bimbo!reader that actually is a little oblivious to the fact she is a sugar baby, "oh the colonel? He's just a fwb who likes to pay for dinner and buy me expensive gifts that's all, he's just like really nice"

Konig really doesn't know where to put his money. He bought a house, a car, and a collection of guns that already go over legal limits. He was thinking about buying a second house somewhere warm, but then he thinks about having to take care of that property too, and his head starts to hurt. He wants to put his money into something nice - he has investments, usually something that Hutch is telling him to invest too because he knows more about tech and crypto and other useless stuff. And the colonel still has a huge chunk of money lying around every month. He didn't even notice that he started to pay for your...everything, at first. Even when you were just friends, you were playing this perfect little game of him bringing you money and you never taking your wallet out of the bag. He likes to spoil you. Gifts, food, new clothes - he doesn't knows anything about clothing brands and expensive gadgets, but you start to chirp about wanting new heaphones or a brand of lip gloss that is sooo trendt eight now, and he likes to listen to you speak. Maybe he is playing his old-school fantasy of having a hot, popular girl actually talk to him instead of bullying and yelling. Maybe he is trying to compensate for his lack of female attention. Maybe he is trying to buy you. He knows that you aren't using him because, by god, your pretty little head is too empty to conjure such a scheme. You're always so surprised when he brings you gifts, and you thank him so cheerfully. Bouncing on his cock like a good girl, not because he is asking you to, but because you really just want to cheer him on. Sucking his cock and spreading that expensive lip gloss all over because he is such a cool dude, much better than your friend's boyfriends. Your friends are so jealous about you having such a great sugar daddy, but you don't even realize that Konig is one. Honestly, if you weren't the one initiating sex, he probably wouldn't even ask you to. He brings you gifts and pops a boner whenever you hug him, and then you get sad because he is lonely and rich and so so miserable, you'll just straddle his hips and ride him until you both see stars. He never asked you to have sex in exchange for gifts. You just...like to accept them. And you like sex. Konig simply likes you too.

[blondieeu]

salvatore. nanami k.

cw: filthy, age gap

reader is 23, nanami is like 30-45 if you have a problem then go away

an arranged marriage with nanami.

your parents selfishly gave you away to him as a business move. on your end it was involuntary, but on his it was just something so he could take over his fathers business faster that required having a wife.

nanami kento is way older than you— at least got 10-15 years on you. he woke up early, worked out, shaved his face every week and stayed in his office for most of the day, giving you space. nanami was grown.

nanami kento was also a very traditional man, hence why your parents chose him. he enjoyed a traditional household. nanami worked during the day, handled business, his fathers business that he was in the works of taking over, and you? he only expected you to play the housewife role, giving you money when asked for various tasks. he only really asked for you to take care of the house and laundry.

you tried your best to not like him— to spite your parents. you really tried to ignore him every night when you went to sleep in the same bed together, you tried to stay quiet when he asked vague questions about what you wanted for dinner or what you wanted to do that day.

but you couldn’t ignore how attractive your husband was. he was mature and he always smelled good. you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together when he got a faint stubble on his face when it neared his time to shave again.

so after a couple months of moving in together you’re sitting at the dinner table, on the topic about trying to have sex or not. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you didnt wanna have sex with nanami. even if you were pissed that your parents married you off, you did like your husband.

“we don’t have to.”

he said it bluntly, taking another bite of the pasta as he sat on the other side of the table. he was dressed in a collared shirt, a tie neatly around his neck.

you quickly picked up the glass of wine on the table. glass barely even touched before you started drinking regardless of you being well into the meal. you didn’t drink wine.

“i wouldn’t mind trying.”

he didn’t have any real expression on his face as he ate. glasses a little further down his nose than usual as he finished the pasta with one last big bite.

“okay. we’ll try tonight then.”

“ohhnnnggshiiittt”

nanamis cock was fat and gritty. must’ve had about a million veins on it because you swear you could feel every single one. he was well groomed as well, he kept it hairy but to an extent which was expected from him.

he knew how big his cock was. he knew it was big all the way from when he even brought up the topic of having sex to begin with. getting into the bedroom and having him avoid taking his cock out until you were all prepped and in a daze.

and nanami made you feel so full with him. could feel him all the way up in your stomach. he made fucking sure you knew he was in there too from the way he pressed and pushed around at your abdomen whenever he got a chance.

your husband had your ass at the end of the bed. all perked up for him as he stood behind you on the floor. nanami had his hands on both sides of your upper back as he pushed you farther down into your shared comforter.

“does it feel better like this? or in the—previous position?”

his voice sounded out of breath, quiet subtle groans coming from him as he waited for his question to be answered. his pretty blond hair falling out of its usual perfect place but his pace never ever faltered.

it was honestly sickening for nanami to seriously expect a response from you like this. your body so hot, kisses and sweat coating it with your face so fucked out. eyes glossing over and your mouth half open, head bobbing with every stroke he gifted you.

the various pornographic noises that left your mouth bounced off the walls and throughout the house along with the even worse sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass over and over.

“n-amiiii”

“talk to me”

your new husband was quick to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you up from your position on the bed. forcing your head to rest on his shoulder and letting his hands glide along your body.

his fingers traced symbols and letters—his name— on your clit, the other pinching and pulling at your breasts while he kept rocking his hips into yours, mindlessly. your hands wrapped around both of his wrists, pushing at his waist and thighs softly.

“s’good nami”

“yeah?”

the blond started to kiss at your neck, his stubble tickling you but his motions never stopping. he was so experienced at this, made you feel so naive, inexperienced.

blondieeu xx

a/n: haven’t written for my fav in a while and i had this locked up in my drafts!!!

[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[chuulyssa]

from people you know to people you don’t: singer!geto

singer!geto with his silver rings clinking against the mic stand when he adjusts it mid-performance. with his fingers running through his long, dark hair just to play on the bad boy persona the media has made of him. with his spot under the spotlight in front of thousands of people to see, who lets the crowd chant in some of the vocals in the chorus while he laughs, gripping the mic and pointing it to his fans, his black painted nails gleaming in the stage lights.

singer!geto who avoids interviews, questions, and who doesn’t sing love songs... but somehow his fans always end up finding love letters in his cryptic lyrics. and he always leaves them unconfirmed too, just smirking whenever paparazzi ask if they’re real or fiction. always answering “my fans are my muse” whenever pressed about his inspo.

singer!geto who leans into the bad boy image of him by the media because it’s much easier to do so than to explain the quiet loneliness and crippling depression he has felt since high school. because it’s much easier to be seen with a new woman every month than to confess to his entire world.

singer!geto who finds himself thinking of you late at night, about what it all could’ve been had he not been so selfish. he doesn’t understand if he’s selfish or just protecting you, but whatever it is, god does it hurt him, and a little voice in his mind hopes you’re hurting as much as he is right now, not being able to touch the skin of your face, or the softness of your lips in his big and lonely penthouse.

singer!geto whose eyes are always searching around in his concert, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces just so that maybe he could find yours, and maybe that would mean he was finally forgiven for pushing you away for so long, for always having his name in headlines linked to other women who aren’t you, for always being so scared of his own fans for you.

singer!geto who’s lyrics are always penned at three in the morning when his imaginations of you are the most vivid. and he swears to his pr team he’s not in love, never has been. yet they all question how the words pour out more sorrowfully than they would have if it had been all just stupid stories of broken couples.

singer!geto who doesn’t know where you are right now after he cut you off that night. so he travels around the world in the guise of his world tours, and doesn’t forget to explore the whole city in case he finds you in the marketplace buying your favourite fruits like he used to, or in the store with the snack you used to share with him on movie nights, or in the shopping mall where he swore he would buy you pretty dresses when he grows up and becomes rich.

singer!geto who wishes he knew how to grow up happy, who wishes he never dreamed his dream now that he has achieved it, who still wants what he wanted all those years ago so selfishly. even after all those “you have to sacrifice to achieve your goals” he says to the world, he wishes you would unblock him on your instagram just so you could match pfps again, so you could post him on your stories saying “my pookie” again, and even though he said he hated when you called him that, he would kill just to hear it spill from your lips one more time.

singer!geto who would always question why most successful people said money couldn’t buy everything, but has now realized that they were right. money couldn’t buy the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way you smiled at the new song he wrote, or the way you kissed his calloused fingers after a long practice session.

singer!geto who looks at small things at the shopping center and thinks you would like them, so he buys them even though you aren’t here to savour them anymore. he doesn’t remember how often he’s been questioned about this habit of buying clothes that won’t fit him, or things on his shelf that most certainly could never match his style. he could go on and on about the meaning those carried for him, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

singer!geto who’s a coward, too afraid to take your name in front of the crowd of his thousand or so fangirls. what if you didn't like the spotlight? what if the girls got a bit too crazy? was it his fault for picking this career after all? was it his fault he fell in love with you more than he did for the strings of his guitar?

singer!geto who climbs up on stage for the final day of his tour, and it’s in the old city you used to live in. the old high school the two of you would go to was long demolished, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the love you held for him was destroyed along with that building as well. but among the low murmurs of the crowd, and the light falling on their faces, his eyes search for just one person almost habitually.

and he finds her.

you.

singer!geto who’s always been a bit shy when it came to singing in front of you. so when he sees you in the audience, his voice falters, and he forgets his purpose, and although he isn’t quite sure if his delusions have finally caught up to reality, or if his imagination has become progressive enough to project his feelings in the real world, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint as if to demand if you were real. if you were really there.

singer!geto who you smile timidly at, too small in the row of his million or so fans, too much of a speck in the sea to be noticed by anyone else. but he notices. he always notices. and you think this is the first time he has taken this long to tune his guitar on stage, and the others might have missed the faint pink on his cheeks. he was always shy.

“you’ll like this one,” he says as if you haven’t already liked the hundred songs he wrote before.

singer!geto who keeps forgetting the next lines of the song he wrote, and instead keeps adding lines that feel more raw, more real than anything anyone has ever heard before. and he has always refused to sing love songs, then why is this one about wanting to be braver to keep a relationship he quit, his fans wonder. but how would they know that singer!geto performs under the stage lights every night, but he has only ever felt seen when he was with you.

singer!geto who tumbles downstage immediately after the performance, hearing the chants of his name only distantly, just so he can scream at his managers to find the pretty lady in the purple dress he had bought for you so long ago and forgotten about after thinking you would’ve thrown it away just like he had done to you.

singer!geto who finds you walking up to him with a sheepish smile, and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t want to believe it is real — he wants to meet you alone, not in front of all the prying eyes of his team. his eyes are wide and his lips are quivering, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the hand you extended to greet him.

“hi,” you introduce your name, and his shaking hands meet your firm ones.

he stiffens and nods, surprised by the formality but not completely so. his fingers clutch tightly around the back of your hand that he knew so well, but now it just feels so unknown. he desperately tries to claw at you, or rather what he remembers of you, the one who has haunted the lyrics of his songs for so long.

his voice is trembling when he says your name, though it feels foreign on his tongue now. have you changed so much that you forgot him?

“i’m a fan, can i have your autograph?”

you could have the whole man if you requested, sweetheart.

but you don’t know it.

you don’t remember.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

a/n: i have my math 3h paper tmr wtf am i doing here

[itsjusthockey]

All I Want For Christmas - Jack Hughes

Wow guys, I’m back from the dead

Please interact because It’s fun

Do we want a Christmas series (I was gonna do one last year and then just didn’t because I don’t know)

I have other ideas brewing if this gets a lot of love

Anyway…enjoy

w.c 1,326 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

What do you get a man who has everything? Money? Check. Fame? Check. The best girlfriend in the world? Double check. Everything Jack Hughes could ever want, he had. And unfortunately for you, that makes it very difficult to buy him a Christmas present.

For the past almost three years, whenever you’ve asked about it, Jack always says the same thing: he doesn’t want anything, and not to waste your money on him. Normally, you'd be okay with that—college is expensive, and the savings you have go toward your future. But still, it’s your favorite time of year, and you want to get him something, anything, to show just how much he means to you.

To make your life easier, this year, you’ve come up with a new plan. If you can’t get an answer from Jack, you’ll go to the next best sources. Your first call is to Ellen and Jim, who kindly explain that Jack had gotten to them first and he doesn’t want anything from you but your undying love and affection. Well, he already has that, so the call is mostly a bust.

Next, you call the Captain. He laughs, telling you the same thing as the parents, and he even adds a “He’s got everything, kid. Don’t stress about it.”

Your final hope is a FaceTime with Luke. The second he answers, you beat him to the punch.

“If you say Jack just wants my love for Christmas, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Luke bursts out laughing, which you don’t find remotely funny.

“Sorry, champ,” he says, grinning wide through the screen. “I’ve got nothing. I don’t even know what I’m getting him.”

You let out a frustrated groan and bury your face in your pillow. It shouldn’t be this hard to find a gift for your boyfriend, and the days are counting down. You stay like that for a minute, until Luke calls your attention back to him.

“Stop stressing so much. You could get him a Yankee candle and he’d love it.” He pauses. “Or, hear me out, maybe you just listen to him and don’t get him anything.

Another groan escapes you, and you finally pick your head up. “That’s the thing, Luke. He always gets me the nicest things every year, and everything I get him feels... not as good.”

Luke rolls his eyes at your state. “Come on, you know he’s got the big bucks. Don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself to compete with him.”

You know he’s right, but it still doesn’t help. You give up on ideas for a bit and talk to Luke about whatever’s going on in his life. He’s still single, still slightly dumb, but he’s every bit still one of your best friends—much to Jack’s dismay.

“I actually do have an idea for you,” Luke says suddenly.

You sit up, eager to hear any suggestions.

“Come to Jersey for the break. Maybe the whole thing. You know that would be the only thing he’d want.”

You deflate like a ballon, a heavy weight coming in your chest. Even still, you try for a minute to work it out in your head. You’ve got your own family who expects you home, a job to manage, and grad school applications to finish. As much as you’d love to drop everything to be with Jack for a month, it just doesn’t make sense in your current situation.

Luke senses your unease like he always does and recovers. “It was just an idea. A stupid one. I forget you’ve got a lot going on.

You force a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t go away. You put on a facade and talk to Luke a bit longer until your stomach growls and you excuse yourself to make dinner.

You’re halfway through cooking a pasta recipe from TikTok when your phone lights up. You assume it’s Jack, and you’re proven right. You prop the phone up just enough so you’re in the frame and answer.

“Hey, J,” you say, sounding more tired than you want. “How was your day?”

“It was great, mostly. Except, I heard through the grapevine you’re trying to get me a present.”

He teases and you try to laugh, but the sound dies in your chest, and before you even know it, tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Wait—what’s going on, babe?” Jack’s voice is full of concern, and that makes you start crying even harder.

“I'm fine, J,” you manage, your voice is quieter than you like. “I’m just...overwhelmed.

Jack falls silent for a moment, and you want to hang up, but you know if you do, he’ll blow up your phone until you answer again.

“Is it... me?” He ask, and your heart cracks again.

You let out a sharp laugh. “No, Jack. Not by you—just by life.”

He nods slowly, and for a second, you can practically feel how much he wishes he could be there with you.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks, his voice is so sweet and so sincere that it almost kills you.

You wipe another tear away and finally give in to what you need to ask. “You can tell me what you want for Christmas.”

This time, he laughs, and it lifts your spirits just a little.

“Fine. I want one of those journals you write in. You know, the one with the prompts. That’s all I want.”

You turn the oven off and sit down at your table, making a mental note.

“Okay, that’s all I needed to know.”

The call falls silent again, and then Jack says something that makes your chest tighten all over again.

“(Y/N)... all I want, I already have. And I’m not just saying that. The only thing that could make me happier is having you here with me. But I know you’ve got your own stuff going on, and I can’t pretend to understand it. I need you to stop stressing about me. I’m good, great even. And seeing you hurt... that’s the only thing that’s making me hurt.”

You swallow hard, wiping away another stray tear. You nod silently, but finally break just a little bit more.

“I just wish I was with you,” you finally admit.

It’s true. Every time you hear his voice, things start to smooth out, and it’s even better when you’re together. You’ve done long-distance your entire relationship, and you’re starting to get really sick of it.

“I know. But we’ll have a week together soon, and it’ll be the greatest week ever, okay?”

You nod again, a small smile tugging at your lips. You finish your food and let Jack talk about whatever he feels like, the sound of his voice settling the tightness in your chest. You talk for an hour, long after you’ve finished eating and cleaned up. Finally, when your eyes are growing heavy, Jack bids you goodnight, and you hang up the call.

After your nighttime routine, you buy the journal he asked for from one of your favorite sites, and settle down under the sheets, wishing he was on the other side of the bed. You try to fall asleep right away, but of course, you think for a while, and the weight of your life situation hits you again. Maybe it’s time for a change—something to give you more time to be with the be thing that truly makes your happiness. Before you even know it, you’re pulling out your computer again and typing. You have another Christmas present idea, and you’re sure it tops anything you could ever think to buy him.

[msgses]

boyfriend!remus

boyfriend!remus who shows you all of the secret spots he's found on the marauders map and gives you advice on how to sneak out.

boyfriend!remus who wouldn't accept help from his friends but quietly asks if you understand the coursework, willing to sit down for hours to understand.

boyfriend!remus who leaves you baskets of chocolates every week full of your favorite sweets from hogsmeade, sometimes with love letters, sweaters, and other assorted gifts if he's feeling good.

boyfriend!remus who pretends he doesn't get jealous but sulks around his friends after seeing you with a guy in class.

boyfriend!remus who told you about being a werewolf early in the relationship because he was afraid of hurting you. when reassured, he made sure madam pomfrey gave you all the knowledge you'd need to stay 100% safe.

boyfriend!remus who doesn't have a lot of money to spend but 90% of it goes to gifts for you. he hardly buys anything when he goes to hogsmeade with his friends but will dish out when you go together on a date.

boyfriend!remus who lets you steal all of his sweaters in the colder months and begins to knit so he doesn't run out of them. but you steal those, too.

boyfriend!remus who can't stand it when his friends touch his hair but lets you play with it whenever you'd like. he hates when it gets in his eyes but only agreed to get a haircut if you did it.

boyfriend!remus who doesn't really celebrate birthdays but let you throw a party in the gryffindor common room with all of your friends and his. the marauders were thrilled and went overboard on the decorations.

boyfriend!remus who admits late at night that he fell in love with you after your first date, never looking back since. he tells you, "i'm gonna marry you one day."

[darkbluekies]

Dr kry x nurse reader

Like imagine nurse reader was college student wanted to be a nurse to learn some medicine or help people sick and taking care old people

Sea sick

Doctor!yandere OC x nurse!reader

Summary: being the only one to be granted as Dr Kry’s apprentice on board a hospital ship ends in tragedy

Warning: yandere, sinking ships (fictional ship and incident), poisoning, indirect killing, mentions of dead bodies and autopsies, blood, sharp objects

Word count: 8k

A/N: a lot of people hav wanted a story where darling is a nurse and I have tried writing it so many times over a year, but haven't been able yo. So I tried changing location and it seemed to work, so it is not exactly what was asked, but I hope that it is enjoyable anyway!

He stands on the promenade deck, watching out over the harbor, breathing in the fresh air. People carried on stretchers catch his eyes. 

He used to get sea sick during his first weeks out at sea. There was something about how the ship rocked back and forth during the stormy days that made his stomach turn inside out and want to eject the food he had eaten. But now that he's been here for three months, it's barely noticeable. He hasn't thrown up for three weeks. A new record. 

He has grown to like the rocking motion of the sea, but doesn’t care much for the people he shares the ship with. The female nurses try to invite him into their cabins, the male nurses fight over who will be his apprentice and the doctors either watch him with jealousy or ignore him. It’s only for a few more months, until he has saved up enough money. Until everything is over. 

They’ve just picked up a town hall full amount of wounded soldiers and new nurses. Doctor Kry has heard that his new trainee will be among them. He scans the crowd of people walking towards the gangway, trying to guess which one will be his to deal with. He hopes that they are obedient — he has no interest in scolding them — and that they aren’t stupid. 

“Watching the fresh blood?” a voice asks. 

He turns to the side to see one of the other doctors coming out to look at the new herd. Doctor Hart is an asshole, always in everyone’s business. One could almost think that he was getting paid for it. 

“You could say that”, Doctor Kry replies shortly. 

“How many dead, do you think?”

Doctor Kry let his eyes wander over the crowd below. 

“Fifty, maybe”, he says. 

It’s a cruel game, he knows that, to guess how many won’t survive the trip to the mainland. But he doesn’t know how to converse with the other doctors unless he joins in on their sad games. 

Sometimes, he plays with the nurses out on deck. There’s all sorts of games tucked away in boxes, ready to be taken out whenever.

“I heard that your trainee will be among those”, Doctor Hart says and nods down at the group of waiting people. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“I don’t know”, Doctor Kry replies shortly and stops leaning on the railing. “I should go find out.”

He doesn’t wait to hear the reply. He’s not sure where to go for his trainee to find him, but he decides to go to his cabin — if not to be at a static place, then to get away from everyone. Him getting a trainee must be the only hot topic they have. 

He navigates the white naked steel corridors to get to his cabin. It’s hard to believe that this naked ship should be covered with polished oak panels, golden details and expensive paintings. None of that can be afforded to be lost, in case the ship is sunk. 

They have lifeboat drills every morning to make sure that everyone on board knows what to do. Since they rotate staff often, those drills need to be done. They’re boring, but handy. 

The ship is nothing more than an empty shell of what she’s supposed to be, stripped of anything that gives her personality. All that’s left is bare necessities, nothing for pleasure.

He opens his door and walks in. The room is small and only contains a bed and a desk, the walls bare steel. It has a rectangular window overlooking the forecastle and he can’t help but think that he has gotten one of the best cabins on the ship. He knows that doctors, officers — both military and ship — and a handful of passengers, get better cabins than  the wounded or nurses. 

Doctor Kry sits down by the table and opens his notebook to write. He has time to finish two pages before there is a knock on the door. It’s a drastic knock, as if the person on the other side of the door is either nervous or eagerly excited. He stands up, not knowing what to expect as he opens the door. Outside stands a young thing, with their hands clasped in front of them. You take him by surprise. You’re not what he expected — but then again, what had he been expecting?

“Are you Doctor Kry?” you ask. 

“Yes, I am”, he replies. 

“I’m told that I am your apprentice.”

He lets his eyes wander over you. You seem so … small? You’re younger than he had thought, and there’s something naive about you. He can’t help but wonder what events has led you to end up here. 

He realizes that he can’t have you standing out in the corridor forever and steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You walk past him into the small room and look around. 

“You have a better cabin than I do”, you say with a small — nervous — laugh, as if to bring some kind of humanity into the conversation. It’s as if you want to skip right past the awkward small talk. You grimace. “I have to share a cabin with five others. We only have a small porthole.”

Doctor Kry closes the door. 

“What’s your name?” he asks. 

“Oh, sorry”, you reply quickly, eyes widening with realization. “Y/N.”

Doctor Kry can’t help but tug at the corner of his lips. 

“Are you always this light-headed, Y/N?” he asks.

You look down in embarrassment. 

“No, doctor”, you say. “I am just nervous. I haven’t done anything like this before. Sorry, doctor.”

“Sit down.”

You look around for somewhere to sit and end up on his neatly fixed bed. Doctor Kry sits down on his chair by his desk. You fiddle with your hands in your lap as your eyes follow him. 

“You’re going to be my trainee, which means that you have to listen to me at all times”, Doctor Kry says. “The medical field is a profession that requires precision. One faulty move and someone could die. Is that clear?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I’m responsible for you, so I don’t want you doing anything stupid, do you get that? No breaking rules, no stupid behavior.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He stretches his neck. 

“This doesn’t have to do with you but I will tell you this anyway, in case it should occur”, he says stiffly. “If any of the other nurses give you any trouble, you’ll come tell me right away, understood?”

“Yes doctor”, you reply. 

“Good. In that case, let's get started. A lot of people have boarded the ship today, and we need to check up on them. You might have thought that you’d get a day to settle in, but that’s not how we do things here. On board, things can happen at any hour of the day and you need to be prepared.”

You nod. 

“Good”, he says, pleased. “Let’s go then, we have work to do.”

When he stands, so do you. He walks towards the door and so do you. You follow him through the corridors like a puppy, in silence. You don’t say anything. Maybe this will work for him after all?

You come out to the main staircase, a pathetic excuse of what it should be, and walk up a flight of stairs. What should be the lounge is now an operating theater and bedroom to wounded soldiers. He can hear you draw a breath as you walk in. The smell must hit you, he guesses, the smell of pain and blood. 

You follow him around the open room as he talks to different men and women who have all kinds of painful injuries and sickness symptoms. You’re quiet behind him. When he’s done with his round, he takes you out onto the promenade to get you some fresh air. You hold onto the wooden railing. 

“That can be unpleasant”, he says, leaning onto the railing beside you with his elbows. “Especially if it is one's first time. You’ll get used to it.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect”, you reply. “I knew that it would be … bad … I just didn’t know what type. Tomorrow will be better. Now I know what to expect.”

You give him a small smile. Don’t give up on me yet, I will prove myself to you. You are weirdly cute. 

“Why are you here if you lack so much experience?” he asks.

“Good question”, you sigh. “Money problems, I suppose. My family has it rough.”

“How long will you be here?”

“A few months, until I've saved enough money.”

Doctor Kry nods. “Same here.”

“Is life on board tiresome?” you wonder. “What do you do out on sea?”

“Some play deck games, some write, draw or read”, Doctor Kry says. “Some spend time with the wounded. Everyone comes up with different activities.”

“I would like to explore the ship, see what the home I will have for the coming months contains.”

“If you want I can give you a tour.”

“Really? Thank you, I would love that.”

You follow the doctor inside again. He decides to start from the bottom of the beast and show you up to the very top.

The orlop deck is the one right above the boilers. The two of you shouldn't wander further below, in case of danger. The orlop deck contains a mailroom and the cargo hold. It's chilly inside the ominous cargo room. Wooden boxes stand in groups.

“These contain everything from weapons to medical equipment to food and alcohol”, Doctor Kry says and taps the top of a wooden box. “Some people — of the military staff, I've been told — sneak down here to steal some of it. I wouldn't advise you to explore down here. The ones you'll meet will most likely be drunk beyond measure and not trustable.”

“I understand”, you say.

“That being said, let's go upstairs.”

G-deck is filled with bunk beds, rows and rows of them. Walls that used to separate cabins have been demolished and left are the marks on the floors where they should stand. People are in bed, either sleeping or chatting with each other. They’re wearing bandage.

F-deck was the same as G-deck, filled with bunk beds and cabins. 

E-deck has a pool with crystal clear water. It’s a simple pool, only there for exercise. It used to have much more detailing, a children’s part of the pool and some children’s floating toys. 

“It would be nice to swim here”, you say. “After long hours of standing.”

“I think it is nice”, Doctor Kry says. “I haven’t used the pool yet. I think it’s seawater but, like I said, I haven’t tried the pool yet.”

Before he has time to think, you’ve crouched down, sunk your cupped hand into the water and taken a lick. Doctor Kry gasps and twitches forward.

“What are you doing?” he questions. 

“It is seawater”, you say. 

He grabs your wrist, pulls you up on your feet and shakes your hands free of the water.

“That is disgusting, do not do that again”, he says sternly.

You laugh slightly, meeting his eyes. Doctor Kry shakes his head, but has to restrain himself to not smile. 

“Get out”, he says, nodding at the door. 

You walk before him. Your youthful behavior is going to wear him down. 

D-deck has more dim corridors than the others you’ve explored. Doctor Kry stops in front of a steel door with his hand resting on the handle. 

“This room is the morgue”, he says slowly. “I don’t expect you to like this room, but I do expect you to treat it with respect. Don’t do anything ‘fun’ here, like you did in the pool. Understood?”

You nod. Doctor Kry opens the door. A chilly wind blows through you. You hug yourself. The room is colder than the winds up on deck and you look at Doctor Kry to see if he’s also feeling the cold. Along the walls of the room are numbered hatches. You don’t need him to explain what is inside them. Doctor Kry opens a door to the right, showing a small room with an operating table on it. 

“Have you ever performed an autopsy?” you ask. 

“Many times”, he responds and closes the door. 

“Do they get … easier every time?”

“Easier? I wouldn’t say easier, but you learn to shut off your brain. You’ll learn that too while working here.”

He walks you out of the morgue. D-deck also contains even more wards. 

C-deck has the first class dining saloon, now nothing more than a school cafeteria. The tables are simple, the chairs looking uncomfortable. A few men sit by a table eating. Doctor Kry is quick to get you out. 

B-deck has more cabins and open wards, along with an enclosed promenade deck filled with beds, where patients can rest in fresh air. There’s nothing left of the verandah cafe, the suites have been emptied and the hairdresser doesn’t have the equipment that it once had. 

A-deck is the only deck on the ship left with some of her old personality. The lounge has some armchairs and couches and the smoking room still has the painted glass windows. You look at the painted mermaid on the window. 

“It’s beautiful”, you say. 

“It is”, Doctor Kry says. “I think it has something to do with Greek mythology, but I haven’t asked.”

The enclosed promenade deck the two of you had been on is on the same deck. Boat deck, on the other hand, has nothing enclosed. Nothing to shield anyone from wind or rain. Rows upon rows of lifeboats stand in their davits, collapsible ones are positioned on the roofs for easy access. 

“Okay, I think you’ve seen it all”, Doctor Kry says and sighs. “Not much, as you can see. Majority of it have been removed in case anything would happen to the ship.”

“Is there a risk of something happening?”

“The ship is painted white with a green line and big, red crosses. People know better than to sink a hospital ship.”

“But at night you can’t see what color the ship is painted.”

“I assure you that has been thought of. I will show you. Meet me at my cabin at sunset.”

“Okay.”

You knock at his door as the sun is resting on the horizon. Doctor Kry stands up from his chair a bit too quickly.

“Good evening”, you say. “I’m here.”

“So you are”, he replies and grabs his beige coat. “Let’s go, we can get dinner afterwards.”

You follow him out to the main staircase and up to the boat deck. The red shade above you is fading into dark blue skies. Wherever you look, nothing breaks it. You follow Doctor Kry to the stern where you have a good view of the ship. A strand of green light lights up the side of the ship, big spotlights turned to the red crosses. The green light gives your face a magical shade, one which makes the doctor stare at you when you’re not looking. 

“You can sleep soundly”, he says. “As you can see, there are lights showing other ships what we are. Now, how about some food?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of you walk back inside and make your way down to the dining hall. You don’t say anything, but the way your hand travels the railing down the main staircase makes him smile. 

You get a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Doctor Kry leads you to a table full of doctors where he always sits. Not because he likes their company, but because he doesn’t want to sit with the immature nurses. 

“So this is your apprentice?” Doctor Hart says, eyeing you. 

“Yes”, Doctor Kry replies. 

You sit down beside him. 

“I’m Y/N”, you say, remembering how you had forgotten to introduce yourself to Kry earlier. “

“You are a voluntary nurse, right?” a doctor asks. 

“Yes.”

“What training do you have?”

“The absolute minimum, sir. I didn't have time to learn more before being sent here.”

“That’s why they’re my apprentice”, Doctor Kry says before anyone else has time to say something that could invalidate your lack of knowledge. “I’m supposed to train them.”

“You have gotten an unfortunate fit, Y/N”, Doctor Hart says jokingly. “Kry is a good doctor, but probably the most boring man I have ever come across.”

You frown, looking between him and your mentor. 

“I wouldn’t say that”, you say slowly. 

Doctor Kry looks at you with a small smile before taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“If you ever get tired of this boring man, I could always use a trainee”, Doctor Hart says with a small smirk. 

The other doctors laugh. You give them a small, uncomfortable smile.

“Let them be”, Doctor Kry says warningly. “You don't have to be an ass to the newcomers.”

He turns away from them, looking at you. 

“Don’t listen to them”, he whispers.

“Okay”, you reply quietly and give him a thankful smile.

He spends the rest of the dinner conversing with you, completely ignoring the other doctors. He asks you about your family life, the members in it, what your favorite memory is. For the first time in months, he's had a purposeful conversation, one he won't forget the second he leaves the dining hall. You've only been here less than a day and yet you've managed to put color in this white steel beast.

“I shouldn't keep you”, he says suddenly. “I suppose that you're tired. You should rest. I will see you tomorrow morning. Will you find your way to your cabin?”

“I think so”, you smile. “Thank you.”

“Be at my door at seven tomorrow morning.”

You nod. Doctor Kry gives you a small nod before walking away. His heart pounds in his chest, already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Days go by. You spend every waking hour with your mentor, following him like a dog. You don't get why everyone else calls him strict, why some pity you for having him. And some pity themselves for not being picked. It's a weird feeling, you find, that everyone has a divided opinion of you and you have no idea who thinks what. All eyes on you, and none seem to be in your favor.

Doctor Kry is awoken by knocking on his door. Still in his drowsy state can he recognize the pattern. You have a unique sense of knocking. The darkness still covers the sky.

You're standing outside, wet to the bone, wearing your pajamas and a guilty look in your eyes.

“You told me to tell you right away”, you say quickly. “I'm not sure if you meant that literally but … I have nowhere else to go.”

Your voice dies out. Doctor Kry frowns, looking at your wet form up and down.

“What happened?” he asks suspiciously.

“They locked me out.”

“What are you talking about? Who locked you out?”

“The other nurses.”

What?

“Why are you wet?”

“They threw water on me and threw me out of the room. I-I guess that it was a joke but … I didn’t really … find it funny …”

He can tell that you're shivering, although you're trying your best not to show it. It makes him unexplainably furious.  

“Come inside”, he says and steps aside.

He's quick to grab his towel from his trunk and wrap it around you. You sit down on his chair.

“Did they say anything to you?” he asks. 

“Not from what I heard”, you reply quietly, shaking slightly. “Everything went on so quickly. I barely had time to wake up before I found myself in the corridor.”

“They threw you?” Doctor Kry asks, trying to understand. 

“Grabbed me by my arms and threw me out.”

“You must have hit the opposite wall in the corridor.”

“It’s fine.”

He feels his heart tug. His poor little apprentice, getting thrown around like trash. He knew that the nurses were assholes, but he is appalled that none of them even tried to befriend you. He knows that it’s because of him. In some way shape or form, it always leads back to him. It’s his responsibility to take care of you now. And, like hell, he’ll do it.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes to start with”, he says and removes the towel from around your body. “You’ll get sick if you keep them on any longer.”

He helps you remove them and dress you in his spare pajamas, offering you his bed. 

“Don’t go back to that room”, he says. 

“Why?”

“I feel like I am responsible for you and that’s why I can’t let you back there.”

“What do I do then?”

It’s such a simple question, but it makes him feel even more determined to take care of you. You’re asking him how to proceed. You trust him enough to let him decide what should happen to you. It’s enough to make him hear his heart in his ears. 

“You’ll stay here for the night, and I will decide what to do with you in the morning”, he says and removes the cover of the bed. “Why don’t you go to bed while I get you a hot cup of tea?”

“Okay, thank you, doctor”, you say quietly. 

“Of course.”

He smiles as he walks out, but the second he closes the door he feels a pain in his heart. He has been with you for two weeks by now and every day has been a pleasure. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this excited to work. Every meal, he spends it with you. He plays deck games with you on your breaks and play board games in the lounge at night. You’re interesting to him without being annoying. Everyone else gets on his nerves, being too much, too loud, too clingy and too … much. You, somehow, seem to be just perfect in every category. It’s such a rare trait for him to find. He doesn’t care that no one else understands it —  on the contrary, he finds it great that he is the only one you spend your time with — but he hates that the others are childish enough to mess with you because of it. 

Sea air must bring even the sanest people to madness. 

The morgue flashes before his eyes and he stops right in his tracks. He wants to. Oh, how he wants to. But there’s no way that he could play it off. On a secluded place like a ship, there was no place to hide a crime. Nowhere to flee if he did get caught. He’ll figure it out, though. They won’t go unpunished. 

He gets the cup of tea and makes his way back to the cabin.

“Drink this”, he says and holds the cup to your lips. “This should warm you up.”

He notices how you’re trying to take the cup from him, but he won't let you. Wants to feed you. You drink slowly. 

“What do I do from now on?” you ask. 

“Well, firstly, I will talk to your roommates”, the doctor says. “Tomorrow morning. You can take my bed, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, I can’t do that. I’ve troubled you enough, doctor.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tucks you in and opens his trunk to take out a shirt to use as a pillow. 

“Doctor, please”, you say. “I can take the floor.”

“Don’t be absurd. Enough of this, now go to sleep.”

There’s no use in fighting him, he will not budge. You try to lay as still as you can, but it’s hard to drift off to sleep. You’re unaware that Kry is awake as well, having an even harder time getting some rest. The only thing he can think of is how angry he is at those nurses … but also a particular happiness. They sent you his way. In an unofficial way they sent you right into his clutches. 

The very next morning, he awakens to find you there, in his bed, sleeping peacefully. He stares at you. There is something so heavenly about you. Something alive, among all this death and suffering. 

He changes into his uniform before walking through the ominous corridors of your room. His knock must have echoed in the room because he can hear a few surprised gasps.

He recognizes the tired face that opens.

“If you don't mind, I'll grab Y/N’s things”, he says and, before waiting for a response, pushes past into the room, hitting their shoulder intentionally. “Where are they?”

“Under that bunk bed.”

He follows the pointed finger and grabs a brown bag. 

“You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know”, he says without changing his normal calm tone. “I thought nurses were supposed to be caring, but what do I know? I never spend time with them. And now I see that it was with good reason.”

“What makes you so special?” one of the nurses scoffs. “There are a lot of doctors people would choose before you too.”

“I'm aware of that, and I'm very thankful for it. But you shouldn't forget that there is a hierarchy on board. I might not fall for your charms, but I can still get you downgraded to kitchen staff.”

He walks out. You're still sleeping when he returns to his cabin and he decides to go get you breakfast.

“Wake up”, he says and places the tray on the desk. “I've gotten you breakfast.”

“Really?” you ask and sit up. “Thank you so much. And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives you a cup of coffee. 

“I brought your things”, he says. “I don’t think that you should go back to that room at all. I will try to get you into another cabin.”

“Oh”, you say. “Thank you.”

“You say awfully many ‘thank you’s.”

“Well, you do awfully many nice things for me.”

He tries not to show how happy he gets, but his ears burn a crimson red. You get out of bed and walk over to your bag, looking around for something. 

“I want to give you something”, you say and hold your hands behind your back. 

“What?” asks. 

You take out a little porcelain dog, a spitting image of a Golden Retriever. 

“I don’t have much”, you say, “but I really value this little thing. Take it.”

“No”, Doctor Kry says simply. 

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Which is why I can’t take it.”

“Please?”

He looks at the little dog in your hands and the pleading look in your eyes. His hand reach out and take it in his hand, knowing that he won’t keep it. He will find a way to give it back to you at a later time. But he has to accept it for now so that you don’t feel stupid. 

He places it on his desk and gives you the cup of coffee again. 

“What will we work with today?” you ask. 

“We’re picking up some new people.”

Everytime they pick up new people, he’s reminded of your limited time. One day, sooner than desired, you will walk off the gangway … and someone will take your place. No. Never. He doesn't want anyone else other than you.

Among the newcomers, you find a child. The six year old boy seems to like running along the big ship's decks. 

You and Kry observe him from the promenade boat above.

“Why is there a child?” you ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to let a little boy run around?”

“His parents must either be military, a nurse or wounded”, Doctor Kry replies.

You let go of the railing. Doctor Kry follows you with his eyes as you make your way down to the boy. You introduce yourself, take his little hand and ask him for his. Nicholas. You play with him. Doctor Kry can’t look away. You’re a natural with children. The little boy seems to have genuinely fun with you. You’re running along the deck, back and forth. You pretend to have a hard time catching up with him, making Doctor Kry smile. He’s not much for children. They’re loud, unpredictable and lack consequence-think. He hates all of it. But you seem to have a natural talent for it. The boy seem so comfortable with you. It’s adorable. 

“Doctor!” you shout. 

“What?” he replies without raising his voice. 

“Come down, let’s play something!” 

He sighs and lets go of the railing before making his way down to you and Nicholas. 

“This is doctor Kry”, you tell the boy. “He won’t bite you.”

“Bite?” Doctor Kry scoffs. “Since when have I ever bitten someone?”

“That’s what I’m saying — you won’t bite him.”

“I never bite to begin with.”

“That’s what I’m saying, so what are you arguing about?”

“Y/N- … nevermind, I’m getting nowhere.”

You laugh. He shakes his head disapprovingly, but his heart aches fondly. You’re like an annoying fly buzzing around, but he doesn’t want to kill you. 

You play curling on the deck and you throw lamely to let the little boy win. He tries to match it, tries to follow your lead. 

The image doesn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day. The only thing he sees is you with the little boy. 

“Doctor, be careful!”

He doesn’t notice how he’s slipped with the scalpel and cut himself in the palm. With a hiss, he backs away from the man on the operating table. You grab his other arm and pulls him with you. His head is awfully cloudy. The only thing he sees in front of him is your smile when you played with the boy. 

“Sit here”, you say and place him down on a chair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes … yes, I’m fine”, he says and clears his throat. 

You clean his hand and wrap it in bandage. Your touch makes him want to pass out. But it also makes him want to yell in frustration. How could he slip up that easily? He has never been distracted during an autopsy and suddenly seeing you with a child puts him out of balance enough for him to slip the knife?

“You need to be careful”, you tell him.

“I know”, he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t enjoy hurting myself.”

“I didn’t mean that, I know you’re careful, I just-”

He realizes that he’s made a mistake. 

“I know”, he says, cutting you of before sighing heavily and continuing in defeat. “I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not angry with you.”

He could never be. If anything, he’s furious at himself. 

“It’s okay”, you say gently. 

You let go of his bandaged hand. 

“It should be okay now”, you say. “But I don’t think that you should go back.”

“I won’t”, he says. “They need a steady hand and clearly my isn’t.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, doctor. It happens to the best of us.”

He sighs and stands up, keeping his eyes on a point above your head. 

“Let’s go out”, he says stiffly and clenches his jaw. “I need air.”

“Do you want to be alone?” you ask. 

His reply comes short. “Just come.”

You nod and hurry after him out on deck. His entire body screams anger. You don’t dare to open your mouth, scared to upset him even more. Instead, you follow him like a shadow around the promenade deck. He suddenly stops and looks at you, as if he just only realized that you are still here. You back away a few steps to give him space. He flinches forward, as if his body wants to walk over to you, but his brain stops him. He wants to hug you. Wants so bad. But it is not professional. 

“Maybe i should go”, you say. “I think that you need some alone time to think. I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“No, wait”, he says and grabs your arm. “Don’t leave.”

You look at him questionably. 

“Let’s just sit”, he says and pulls you over to the deck chairs. 

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask hesitantly. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“It’s not directed at you”, he says.

“Okay, but you’re still upset. I know that you hurt yourself, but it’s okay, it’ll heal quickly.”

“It’s not just that.”

He never makes mistakes. He never slips up. You’re becoming dangerous for him.

“Do you want to tell me?” you ask.

He shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s cute how worried you are about him. He gives you a smile. 

It feels like a dagger through the heart when you tell him that it is your last week on board. What do you mean that you’re going home? You just came here. His mind spins as he tries to come up with something. He needs you here on this boat — or wherever he is — to work properly. Both figuratively and literally. He feels like he performs better, both in the operating theater and as a human. 

The cut on his hand has healed by now, but he can still feel the burning sensation of your fingers against his skin. He can’t — won't — forget it. He kept the bandage, despite the blood on it.

You need to be kept here … and he needs to come up with a solution on how to keep you. He could make you trip down the stairs and have you break a leg. No, you could still return home with broken bones. He could tie you up and lock you in, but if you screamed loud enough someone would hear you through the thin steel walls. You need to blend in. How does one blend in, in a floating prison with wounded people. 

Oh. Of course.

He makes his way to the medical supply room, looking around for something — anything — that he can use. He finds a little green bottle. You shouldn’t drink it straight away, but if he dilutes it in water, it should be fine. 

He decides to mix some of the dangerous substance in your tea the following mornings. For the first few days, there seem to be no symptoms of his little poisoning. Until the fourth morning when you’re not at his door when he expects you. He gets himself dressed and out of the room, marching down to your new — own — cabin. He knocks on the door. 

“Y/N, are you awake?” he asks. 

“Yes”, he hears your voice through the door, your voice thick and hoarse. 

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He opens the door. You’re lying in the bed, curled up with your arms over your stomach. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

You shake your head weakly. “Not well. My stomach really hurts … I think that I’m going to throw up. I haven’t been able to go get a bucket so I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

“I’ll get you a bucket.”

He leaves the room. Out in the corridor, he can’t help but smile. It’s finally kicking in. He had been worried that it wouldn’t work until you had left the ship … where he can’t care for you. He gets a clean bucket from a storage closet and returns. 

“Let’s get you up right”, he says and helps you sit up. 

The motion alone is enough to have you throwing up. He places the bucket under your mouth, letting you empty yourself. 

“I’m sorry”, you hiccup. 

“It’s okay”, he replies. 

“I don’t think I can work today.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

He opens the window and sits down by the desk. 

“You don’t have to stay here”, you say weakly, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be fine”, the doctor says. “I can see that. You took care of me, now I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s different. I just put on bandage.”

“So? You weren’t skilled for more. I am, and I intend to put my knowledge to use.” 

He stands up abruptly, deciding to start right away. 

“Let’s get you some fresh air”, he says. “This open window won’t do.”

“Doctor, I can’t move”, you say, eyes widening. “I-I’ve tried, but I-I … I can’t.”

He frowns. Has he done too much? 

“My stomach hurts so much and my limbs don’t seem to want to move.”

“It’ll be okay”, he says shortly and lifts you up in his arms. “I’ll do the moving for you.”

He walks slowly along the decks, so as not to make your nausea even more unbearable. He walks out to the enclosed promenade where rows of beds stand along the walls and places you down in one of them, making sure to get you in the sunlight. With a smile, he tucks you in.

“Some fresh air and sunlight will do you good”, he says and sits down on the side of the bed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I suppose you haven’t had much this night. I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be safe.”

You nod and make yourself a bit more comfortable. 

“It’s hard to not be nauseous when the ship moves so much”, you mumble. 

“I have the bucket, you can vomit as much as you’d like”, he says. 

“In that case I won’t vomit at all. Because I don’t want to.”

Doctor Kry scoffs with a smile. 

“I know”, he says. “Try to rest now.”

He sits by your side until you’ve fallen asleep. You are so unbelievably sweet. In every single way. Doctor Kry stands up to go empty the bucket. He walks out the enclosed promenade, out onto the open deck and throws the contains over the side. 

“What’s with your apprentice?” Doctor Hart asks, walking over to him with his hands in his pockets. “Rumour says that they’re sick.”

“Yes, they are”, he says shortly. 

“Weren’t they going home this week?”

Do not remind me.

“They were”, he says, even colder. “Not anymore. I can’t let them go back if they have some kind of sickness. Better for them to be isolated here where it can’t spread far.”

“Is it contagious?”

“Yes, very. I think that you should stay away from them — tell everyone else to be cautious and keep distance as well.”

He grimaces and quickly backs away from him, walking away. Doctor Kry smirks and shakes his head. 

And you consider yourself smart enough to be a doctor? 

“What are you doing?”

The little boy is back. Nicholas stands a few steps behind him, watching curiously. 

“I’m emptying a bucket”, Doctor Kry answers, trying not to sound short and cold like usual. You like this kid and if he’s impolite to him, he’s sure he’ll hear about it from you. 

“Why?”

“Because there was vomit in it.”

“Ew! Did you get seasick?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, not me. Y/N’s not feeling well.”

“Is Y/N sick?”

“Yes.”

He looks worried. His best friend isn’t feeling well? Doctor Kry sighs. 

“Do you want to come and meet them later?” he asks. “They’re resting right now but you can come visit when they’re awake again.”

“When is that?” Nicholas asks. 

“I don’t know.”

“How will I know then?”

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t wait to hear more dumb questions. Doctor Kry walks straight back to the enclosed promenade and places the bucket by the bed. He sits down by your legs and takes your hand. 

A few days go by. He continuous to poison your tea, and help you throw up. When your body doesn’t want to do it anymore, when it’s too exhausted to work for your benefit, he has to help. 

“Alright, open your mouth”, he says, brushing any type of hair away from your face. “This will not be pleasant, but I need you to throw up, okay?”

You sit beside him on the bed with the bucket in your lap, hugging it tightly. Your unsure grimace is enough to answer. 

“I know”, he sighs. “It’ll be quick. It won’t hurt.”

“Okay”, you mumble and nod, opening your mouth. 

He reaches in with his fingers until they touch the soft part of the back of the mouth. Your mouth is warm and soft, making him feel light headed. As soon as you gag, he pulls his fingers away. You hover over the bucket for the thirteenth time in twenty four hours. Doctor Kry pats your back. 

“There you go”, he says. “See? Quick and easy.”

“Easy?” you cough, giving him a stern eye. “Nowhere near easy.”

“Okay, maybe not easy. Bad wording. But it’s over now. Good job, I’m proud of you.”

A sad smile appears on your face. You lean your head onto his shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Doctor Kry tenses. His heart stops. 

“I’m so tired”, you whisper. “My body hurts.”

He hesitates before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Your scent clogs up his head. 

“I should be home by now”, you whisper. 

“I know”, doctor Kry whispers comfortingly. 

You break out into sobs. Doctor Kry swallows. He can imagine how you must feel. Body broken and unresponsive, not back home with your family like you had planned and anticipated … and you can’t do anything to stop it. Doctor Kry turns your body to him and hugs you. Holding you feels like heaven. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if you were made for him, and him only. You were born to be his.

“I'm sorry if this is unprofessional”, you mumble. 

“It's okay, you're sick”, he replies thickly

He closes his eyes, enjoying the embrace. It’s everything he could — and have — ever dreamt of. His own little patient, in his arms, where they belong. Only for him. Oh, God, he can never let you go. You will be here for as long as he is, and then he’ll take you back home to him. Whether you like it or not.

“I’m cold.”

“I'll go get you some more blankets.”

He dreads to let you go but he can't deny your request. Your warmth disappears from his embrace. 

He decides to hurry, wanting to get back to you as quickly as possible. As he walks down the main staircase, he feels the entire ship shudder and hear a loud ‘bang’. He has to grab onto the staircase railing to not fall over. The sound of porcelain crashing onto the floor in the distance hits him. He hurries down.

A man covered in soot runs past him. One of the men from the boiler room.

“The ship is flooding!” he shouts in full panic. “We're sinking!”

Doctor Kry widens his eyes. There's no way, right? They're a hospital ship! No one in their right mind would sink a hospital ship! His mind forgets the blanket. He needs a lifebelt. Not a blanket. 

He runs past the room where you had stayed first, and he can see the nurses inside trying to scramble their belongings into small purses. Without thinking, he marches over, shuts the door and grabs the nearest fire extinguisher to break the lock. He throws the fire extinguisher to the side and hurries down the corridor, opening the first door he finds. It's a cabin for female nurses. He reaches over one of the bunk beds, to a net where lifebelts Are kept. He pulls down two and runs out. 

The floor has started to shift beneath him. He can tell that it tilts to his left. She's going down by the stern.

He runs up the stairs, trying to push his way through a flood of people desperately climbing upwards. He wants to shout at them, but it won't matter. No one else will listen or care. Instead, he uses force to push himself through the crowd.

He has to get to you before anything happens. There's no certainty in how much time there is, but there is a certainty of death if he doesn't hurry up. 

He runs through packed corridors, ripping open your door.

“What's going on?” you ask with wide eyes.

There's something horrific with your fearful eyes. Everything about you is dull and tired, besides your panicking eyes. 

“We've been hit”, he says in a steady voice and forces the white lifebelt over your head, tying it tightly around your body. “We need to get to a lifeboat as quickly as possible.”

“What?” you ask in shock. “What happened? You said that we were okay, that nothing would happen to a hospital ship!”

He doesn't answer. If he does, he's worried that he'll snap at you. Instead, he lifts you up and carries you out of the room. He makes sure not to trip, but carrying you through tilted spaces is harder than he expects. Giving up is not an option, however.

The boat deck is crowded. He manages to get through to a lifeboat and sits down with you in his arms.

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“It's okay”, the doctor whispers back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

He holds you tightly when the lifeboat slowly sinks towards the water, scared that you might fall off. 

Seeing the ship from afar as the lifeboat makes its way away from it finally puts things together in your head. You gasp. You had been on that … and if Kry hadn't come get you you would still be on it, waiting for death.

The bow slowly rises out of the water, dripping with water. The sun shines right on it, as if it is the ocean’s main attraction. The room where doctor Kry locked in the nurses is far underwater by now. He hides a smirk under his hand. He had promised that they would be punished for what they had done. They'd have a chance if they hadn't been childish.

“I never thought that I’d see something like this”, you say. “I never wanted to see the bottom of a ship.”

“Me neither”, the doctor replies. 

“Will many die?”

“No, not many. I’m sure of it.”

You creep closer to him, shivering although you don’t feel any cold winds. He holds you tighter. 

The only thing left of the floating hospital is a steamy, bubbling mess, filled with debris. It’s like you can hear her hit the ocean floor. You can’t help but wonder what position she is in, if you’ll ever get to know. If anyone ever will dive down and check. If that will be possible.

“It’s so silent”, you whisper and meet his blue eyes. “It shouldn’t be silent … should it?”

“I don’t know”, he replies. “What is the other choice? People screaming?”

You shake your head quickly. Don’t want to imagine that.

Hours go by. When the evening comes, you’re picked up by another ship and given blankets and food. Doctor Kry stays close to you, not letting anyone get close. He sits in a protective position beside you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning everything and everyone around him. 

The little boy clings to a woman who you guess is his mother. He doesn’t seem to understand what has happened, how lucky he is, and you hope that he never will.

“What will happen now?” you wonder quietly.

“I will continue to care for you until you are well”, he says. “That’s what will happen. I will take care of the rest, you don’t have to worry about anything. Just lean on me and everything will be alright, okay?”

You nod. Doctor Kry smiles and straightens his neck. 

“Good.”

You look up at the colorful evening sky and sighs. No one died this day — apart from a few nurses who doctor Kry didn’t like, but he will never tell you that — and that is a comfort. But you’re unaware of the plans doctor Kry has for you. And maybe that’s for the best.  

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Secret Admirer 🎀

Yan secret admirer and you went to same high school. The day he saw you he fell for you immediately and have been looking after you from afar as he is too shy to confess his feelings to you

Yan secret admirer making sure no boys come near you and if someone did next day mysteriously they just disappear

Secretly paying for yours meals, keeping gifts such as your favourite flowers, jewelery you liked, your fav snack with notes

he spends money on you like crazy as money is not a issue to him. His parents are god level rich

You knew you had a secret admirer by all this gifts and stuff you keep getting. But who is this person? you have no idea

yan secret admirer who has secret cameras installed in your room

whenever he can't see you in person from afar he just watches you through cameras

His favourite thing to do? Watch you

After you finished your college you took a job at a company

Guess what? Your company just get purchased by a global company suddenly

And now he is your ceo

If someone bullies you they get fired

Your paycheck increases every damn month why? Because the ceo thinks you are very hardworking

Even if you just come and sleep in the office still your paycheck increases because according to him no one is more hardworking in this company than you

You are the employee of the month every month. Period.

And as a gift for your hardwork for the company you get diamond, rubby, emerald jewelery or a Europe trip or a yatch trip with him as a boss - employee bonding time

Soon you figure out that the secret admirer is none other than your ceo but you can't run away from him as he reminds you of the contract you signed with the company for your job which now suddenly implies if you quit work before the time you have to pay a huge sum so you just do the damn job while ceo pampers you with everything

He even has a huge mansion get built with a huge garden, greenhouse, fountains, swimming pool, library, huge french windows just like the house ideas pins you have kept saved in your pinterest. And even got the dog you wanted and the engagement ring ready as you have always wanted. Thanks to all the pins you saved in your pinterest and the notes you have kept saved in your phone.

He is all set to ask you to marry him. And no is not a option. And even if you said no he has his security team ready for plan B which is kidnapping you and marrying.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[moonstruckme]

Prince Sirius plz? 🥺 only if you want to

Thank you for requesting!

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’d thought originally that the dinner was set remarkably early, but three hours in, when everyone had finally stood from the table after the fourth course, you finally understood why you’d sat down to eat midafternoon. You’re beginning to worry you’ll be here all night. You wonder if princesses are allowed to fake headaches. 

“Yes, of course,” you say, relieved that the baron whose name you can’t recall seems to be exiting the conversation. “It was really lovely meeting you.” 

He inclines his head, smiling in a way you can’t decipher. (Is he onto you, or is he just being kind? He’s been perfectly friendly while you’ve spoken, but for all you know he could go and snitch to the Queen about what an embarrassment you are straight away.) “You as well,” he says politely. “I hope we’ll have a chance to get to know each other better soon.” 

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” you reply, though of course you’re sure of nothing. For the life of you, you can’t even conjure an idea of who this man is. But thankfully, he’s backing away without seeming to have noticed your ignorance. “Nice speaking to you!” 

You take a breath once he’s gone, glancing around to be sure no one else has set their sights on you for the moment. The atmosphere in the dining room really isn’t as intimidating as it feels in your head. The decor screams old money, but the dark wood table and chairs make things feel a bit more cozy, and a gas fireplace at one end of the room keeps you all warm while casting a natural, orangey light on the people closest. You’d gravitated towards it instinctively, not realizing that of course everyone else would do the same. You cover a yawn with your hand, somehow at once on edge and exhausted.

“Well done.” You jump at the smooth voice behind you, only to recognize it a second later. Your head turns just as Sirius comes around you, a brief touch to your elbow serving as an apology for startling you. He’s smiling, that practiced, extra-suave one you’ve become familiar with seeing at these functions. 

“That was good,” he tells you. “Did you know who that was?” 

You shake your head, smiling too in relief at seeing him. “No clue.” 

Sirius inclines his head like suspected. There’s a sparkle in the corner of his eye as it catches the light, and you realize he’s wearing an almost imperceptible amount of glittery makeup. Your lips give a tug. You’ve noticed that whenever Sirius is with his family, he’ll do anything to set himself apart from them—whatever he thinks he can get away with. He slouches, or he talks to someone his parents appear to be shunning, or he wears a dark gray just slightly distinguishable from their pitch black. You can’t help but admire his boldness; stepping even an inch out of line with any of the royals you’ve met terrifies you, and from what you’ve gleaned Sirius’ parents aren’t the most forgiving of the bunch. 

“Well,” he says, “you passed it off rather well. You know he was flirting with you, right?” 

You feel your mouth drop open before the tilt of Sirius’ lips reminds you to close it. “He was not.” 

“Oh, come on.” Sirius raises a brow. “He wasn’t being subtle about it, don’t tell me you didn’t notice. He asked for you to show him around the grounds.” 

“That seems normal.” 

“Doll, you’ve been at the palace less than a month. Everyone here tonight knows these grounds better than you do. He obviously only wanted to be alone with you.” 

The reminder of your newness doesn't sting because you know Sirius doesn’t mean for it to. Your ignorance, however, is like a bruise that keeps being pressed every day you’re here. 

“Oh god,” you close your eyes, laughing despairingly. “What am I supposed to do about that?” 

“Don’t worry.” Sirius gifts you with another smile, one of his real ones. “Word will get out that we’re courting soon enough, and anyone who has less-than-professional intentions will know to keep away.”

“Right. Okay.” The idea of yours and Sirius’ fake courting doesn’t frighten you as much as it did at the conception of the plan. At the moment, you actually find it rather reassuring. You catch yourself covering another yawn. 

Sirius tuts. “Long night, hm? Poor thing.” 

Warmth tickles your cheeks. There’s teasing in the bent of his voice, but Sirius’ expression is tender, genuine. His eyes hold an increasingly familiar kindness. 

“This has gone longer than I thought it would,” you admit. “This dress isn’t super comfortable, either. When you said it would be nice, I was thinking I’d be wearing a nice sweater, not anything as formal as this.” 

Sirius shrugs, the shoulders of his suit jacket moving stiffly. “I know; it’s a lot of posturing. You look stunning, if that’s any consolation.” 

You bite down on a shy smile. You’ve learned the best way to endure Sirius’ compliments, since he won’t stop giving them, is simply to brush right past. He doles them out like candy anyway. “Do women always have to wear dresses to these things?” He nods, and you grimace. “It seems a little…” 

“Elitist? Pompous? Misogynistic?”

“I was going to say old fashioned.” 

Sirius grins. “You’re kinder than I am, gorgeous.” 

You almost roll your eyes, but stop yourself when you remember you’re not alone. 

Sirius glances around, lowering his voice. “If you want to leave,” he says, “we could always say you’re showing me around the grounds.” 

Your lips give a tug. “Didn’t you just say that was an obvious excuse?” 

“So what? We’re supposed to be courting anyway. Our families will probably have a toast the minute after we sneak off.” 

You shake your head at him, still fighting a grin. “You are going to absolutely entrench me in scandal, aren’t you?” 

Sirius’ eyelid sparkles as he drops one in a wink. “Sooner or later.” 

“Fair enough. Let me show you about the grounds,” you say, voice just barely loud enough for the courtier lingering nearest you to hear as you loop your arm through Sirius’. His brazenness must be catching. He puts on a good show of looking pleased and eager as you lead him towards the door. You lean over, murmuring, “Do you think we can change, too? I’m desperate for my cozies.” 

Sirius grins at you as though you’ve said something wonderful. He fits his arm around your waist, drawing you close just as you exit the room. 

“You’re adorable,” he says, the pretension gone from his voice now that you’re alone. “Of course we can. You’ll have to lend me your sweatpants again, though; I won’t be left out.” 

[nanaminxs]

OK HEAR ME OUT!!!!

either CamGirl!Reader and TopDonator/Fan!Jason, or vice versa, CamBoy!Jason and TDFan!Reader.

Just going from watching a stream to DMs. Maybe some crazy phone sex? Bluetooth toys?? Some personal videos js for their fan??? The streamer getting some pics back???? Who knowsss 👀

Oh baby. I’m listening. Loud and clear.

Jason Todd found himself watching different girls frequently. He’d send a few bucks, get himself off, move on, never go back. He thought with you he’d do the same. You were new, only in the industry for a few months now, but you had quickly gained a following.

They liked the innocent look you had to your face, but the way those dirty, disgusting men would degrade you and you’d get ten times wetter than you were originally said otherwise. However, no one payed you as well as Jason did. So when you started up your stream and noticed his name pop up first you didn’t think much.

The side of the screen showed the preferred amount to get you going, the pink device shoved into you set at a very low vibration. Barely enough to even get a whine out of you honestly. You welcomed in some of the older people with a sweet smile.

Then there goes 30. Before you could thank Jason for the donation the vibrator went off and you shivered. Rub yourself for me. That’s what it read. You let out a small giggle, “30 isn’t enough to get me to rub one out for you.” That sweet voice of yours rang out through the speaker of his phone and he groaned. Nearly creaming his pants at just that. No you were different. He liked you.

Jason kept coming back for you. He liked the stubbornness you put up when he sent you “small” amounts politely asking you to do more for him. But he didn’t like the idea of seeing those pretty fingers shoved into your weeping cunt while others watched as well. They could pay for that themselves.

After a few more streams he found himself in your DMs. Sending 2k for a private video of you doing whatever YOU want to make yourself cum. You were stunned to say the least. You make more than that per stream. But you’ve never had someone send that much at once!

The squelch of your pussy clamped down perfectly on that small glass dildo drove him mad as he watched you. His rough hands rubbing himself at the same pace. “Thank you Jay!” You squealed. He loved the way you gave him a perfect view of your cunt from the back, the arch of your back, just- everything you gave him!

Things got deeper between you and your new top donator and he offered to pay for a video call. You immediately accepted his request and made him aware of your “money per minute” policy which he brushed away. The call started off great, he was really cute, he was nice, funny, yadayadayada.

But now he had you under his control. Shaking his head whenever you stated you were so close to cumming- and yet another perfect orgasm RUINED! He kept up with you though, didn’t cum himself until he let you. But my golly your mouth watered everytime he stroked his fat cock on the screen.

“You close, mama? Wanna cum with me?” He huffed over the sounds of the lotion he applied to his cock as he stroked himself mercilessly. You responded to him needy.

“Please Jay- lemme cum with you, wanna cum with you!” You nodded vigorously, the fat tip of the silicone toy prodding at your cunt with every flick of your wrist, your fingers rubbing harsh circles onto that sensitive nub.

“Bet you’re wishin’ that was me, huh pretty.” He grinned, pretty white teeth on display. He made you feel seen, above sex. Above what you do. He even stayed long enough to make sure you were okay after your breathtaking orgasm.

He’s coming back. Because with you he’s never felt like some virgin schoolboy who hasn’t gotten the chance to hit puberty.

[wonysugar]

babydaddy jang wonyoung

now where do i even start with this…?? so much to unpack here

tags: lactation kink, breeding kink(?), g!p wonyoung, reader is a few months pregnant, the baby isn’t born yet this is simply wony shenanigans before that human being is fully formed!

wedding was lovely, cake was delectable, WIFE WAS PRETTY?? you were thriving

and luckily for you, on the honeymoon she just went batshit crazy on you, no really, she did! first 5 minutes upon walking into the hotel room and she was already deep inside you, fucking you ass up as she moaned out your name with pride,,, also making you uncover your mouth to hear every single one of your sounds coming out of your mouth, in unison with hers, lowkey wanting to show off to everyone in the other rooms that she was making you feel soooo good? she’s fucking her wife better than they ever would theirs, cause she’s… she’s rather competitive, you see! yes it made you rather shy, but it never hurt to step out of your comfort zone every once in a while!!

hence why, being married to wonyoung for over two years now, you’ve allowed yourself to be more open to things and experiment a lot more with her, you did things you wouldn’t necessarily do with her when you guys were dating,, for example, cockwarming! aheheh naturally

like… walking in on her doing her cute girly makeup in your guys’ room and then randomly asking her if you can sit on her cock later?? oh she gets hard on the spot i fear… and you obviously notice it and giggle to yourself; it’s poking right out of her skirt, how could you not notice it?

obviously, intrigued by the ideas you get and willing to do anything to please you, she always accepts. so, obviously, the cockwarming wasn’t an exception.

watching a horror movie on the couch and casually sitting on her hard cock, nonchalantly focused on the tv as if you weren’t literally SITTING ON HER? anywho, you were doing okay, just having a fun time and enjoying the film! she, on the other hand, was fighting only god knows what as she desperately tried not to grab you by the sides and just mindlessly pound into you. the way your walls clenched onto her whenever she moved around a tiny bit?? she was LOSING ITTT i tell you,,, so when a random jumpscare startled the both of you and caused you to jump, it was really hard to keep it in. ESPECIALLY with all of the thoughts she was getting of filling you up right then and there,,, not caring about the consequences,,

so she didn’t!! lol

if you asked her about it now, she’d cover her burning face and call it embarrassing, but yes; feeling you move around on her dick at that moment made her feel so good that she just couldn’t hold it in, she shot her load inside you.

it’s important to note that she was NOT wearing a condom! i mean, why would she?? you thought she was gonna be able to keep it together, you’re just watching a movie, after all! so why would she wear a condom for this?? you laughed it off and properly fucked her as an apology that day afterwards lol everything was fine and dandy

until the answer to that question came back up to you about three weeks later!!

womp womp guess tf what bitch!! you’re pregnant with jang wonyoung’s baby

“…what?” she stared at you blankly, still trying to process the crucial piece of information you just dropped on her on a random tuesday morning.

you sighed, trying to hide your nervousness, “that’s what the test says—“

“baby what do you mean you’re pregnant???”

now what?? no genuinely.. wonyoung’s panicking, you’re panicking, what the fuck were you supposed to do? were you guys even ready to have a child?? you had to worry about that just cause of a silly idea you had originally, you didn’t think it would end up this bad????

but turns out that it actually WASN’T as bad! considering you guys had enough money, a house in a safe environment, it was gonna work out. plus, it’s not like your sex life deteriorated. quite the opposite in fact, considering she… for some reason… found you so much sexier a few months into your pregnancy?

oh don’t get her wrong she’s always found you hot as all hell all throughout your relationship, but pregnant??? that turned on a switch she didn’t even know existed. watching you take off your tanktop before getting into bed led her to secretly thinking about all sorts of things, things you’d do to her, things she’d to you. lots of things!

until it wasn’t so secret anymore.

“my love, what do you think breast milk tastes like?”

you almost choke on your glass of water, furrowing your eyebrows at her, “…what??? i— i don’t know?” you laughed, before joking, “if you’re really that curious, you could always try and see for yourself, wonyoung.”

she didn’t take that as a joke, and you knew that.

the way her cock went rigid to the mere thought told you everything you needed to know.

so! being the amazing wife that you are, you let her try it. you let her suck on your tits during sex until milk leaked from her mouth. it was a cute request, so how could you say no to that? especially with how excited she seemed.

giving you hickeys everywhere around your neck and collarbone, eventually going down to your chest which has been restricted territory for a while, until now, of course. her tongue impatiently roaming around your tits, you could feel her slightly poking at your leg. it was adorable.

she got so into it, she’d nod eagerly whenever you said something similar to “does my pretty princess want mommy’s milk? hm?” looking up at you with desperate eyes as she whined against your soft skin.

and so she’d pull away from your chest minutes later, your milk coating her lips and slightly leaking from her mouth; what a sight. it got you so inexplicably turned on that you couldn’t keep waiting, you just had to ride her.

“c-come on baby, put another baby inside me, yeah?” was what’d you say as she moaned and grunted your name! :]

[blvdheart]

one of his many journal entries about you

arthur morgan x fem!reader and male!reader <33

i won’t lie…i have 45 hours on the game and i’m not even past chapter 2 (っ- ‸ – ς) why progress when i can save myself the pending heartbreak and instead admire this pretty man and his journal sketches?

anyways…love all you arthur morgan kissers ♡

“my body doesn’t feel right as of late. my hands are too rough, my face is all wrinkled up, and my voice isn’t all that pleasant. if only i could sound as smooth as i write.

never been the most confident of men, but well, this body’s what i’m stuck with. used to go months on end without shaving until i realized my beard looked like bills. how embarrassing. miss grimshaw, the strong-headed woman she is, knocked some sense into me too. well…more like slapped me.

shaving makes me look more approachable, and that’s not really a good thing with my reputation. but, i did it anyway and spent a pretty penny on the barber up in valentine’s…had to pay a bit extra because of the drunken ruckus lenny and i caused there last time.

if my heart hadn’t been captured, maybe these worries of mine wouldn’t even exist.

oh, the ridiculous things love does to a man…”

꒰ fem!reader ꒱

“about as beautiful as the stars above; a woman so otherworldly that sometimes I have to look away. she shines too brightly for these tired eyes of mine. i suppose that’s for the best, ain’t it? a man like me, the walking embodiment of sin, isn’t worthy of such a loving lady.

but that doesn’t keep her away. she often asks me to recount some of my adventures, and i hesitantly do so, fearful she’ll think me a bad man. craziest thing is, she looks more worried than anything else whenever i do as told. telling me to be more careful with that honey-like voice of hers. could listen to it all day. it’s like a balm to the soul.

can’t keep myself away from her either. doesn’t matter what she’s doing, i always find myself wandering over to her. i don’t usually have trouble sleeping, i’m like some rock when it comes to it. but she’s occupied my mind too much lately, falling asleep is difficult. like right now. should be sleeping, but i’m not. just up wondering about the ifs and hows.

i’ve been saving up some money so i can go get her something real nice, maybe a pretty dangly necklace. could just steal one, but i want to prove myself to her. she deserves the best, not something that belonged to some other stranger.

god knows i’d do whatever i can to keep her safe and sound. i’d die for her. funny thing is, i considered myself to be a selfish man before breathing the same air as her.

i can say with absolute certainty that i would give up everything for a future with her.

if she’d have me.

…

now, this fool’s about to try and sketch her.

not sure if i can encapsulate her beauty onto a page, though.”

꒰ male!reader ꒱

“i fear I’m going mad. i never thought i’d feel this way about a man before. then again, pursuit of romance has never been a priority in my life. he’s one of a kind, something about him makes my palms feel all clammy.

he never leaves my head, every inch of this brain of mine is consumed with thoughts of him. his grin, the way his hat perches on his head, the stories he shares ‘round the campfire.

i’ve come across many men on all my journeys, but his handsomeness is unmatched. and he’s different. doesn’t nag me like dutch or get on my nerves like micah, but he isn’t just a brother like some of the other folks here.

i’ve been a bit too scared to drink these days. you know me, i spill my guts out and say stupid things like a damn fool when i get like that. wouldn’t know what to do if i were to sputter out how fine of a fella i think he is, or how grateful i am for him. is this only a special friendship? no, i don’t know how to describe this.

well, yes i do, actually.

love.

my fingers trembled while writing that.

some may call this spark a sin, but going down an altar with him would be a taste of heaven itself. that wish is too far-fetched though.

all i ask for is a sign. just one. maybe i’m misreading the glimmer in his eye, or the way the bastard slings his arm over my shoulder and sings after he downs some moonshine.

weird how life works, isn’t it?”