#or i may just be off my rocker

[isaacathom]

the fun thing about having both my oc's character sheet and a relevant npc's character sheet is that i can look at them and go, hmn. yeah that npc couldnt kill me unless the stars aligned

cause at one point mariela wanted naielle dead. was fully out for blood. the only thing stopping her was/is the geas-esque effect imposed by their shared warlock patron.

removing the geas is necessary for making it remotely viable, because mariela flatly cannot do enough damage in a single instance to outpace geas, and the best way for her to stop naielle from killing her back would be hold person, which is almost guaranteed to drop if she's taking geas damage throughout.

so you have to remove the geas, which broadly supposes that naielle has voided her own pact and not marielas. so we already have a point of 'well, it has to go that way' and while thats not impossible at all, its not the only way things will go.

naielle HAS to be out of the pact entirely for this to remotely work, too, because mariela NEEDS to remove her radiant resistance. her only damaging spell in significant amounts is guiding bolt, which is useless against naielle as a celestial warlock. you NEED that resistance gone to stand a chance.

but even then - mariela's a warlock too. she can only do guiding bolt so many times. 3, in fact. 3 regulars wont do it. it MIGHT, but the room of error is so small.

the best way to do it, in my mind, would be to use slot one to hold person, and take advantage of the auto crit w/i 5ft to launch 2 guiding bolts straight to the dome. 32d6+8, bam.

except this requires naielle to fail, at minimum, 3 wisdom saves. if she succeeds on even one of them, you lose an autocrit and are now w/i 5ft of a woman who, while down her warlock spells, still has a sword and a dragon king in her pocket. you need her to fail every single wis save.

now, i dont know how you'd rule the proficiency bonus of a classless individual (since if naielle isnt a warlock... well... ?). it might depend on circumstance, when mariela tries this. if naielles not a warlock, there was talk that she'd be made a fighter for a few sessions before becoming a sorcerer (long story). if shes in either, then wisdom fails are entirely doable, since she'd only have a +2. if she's still using the proficiency from her being a warlock (ie if mariela tries this immediately after naielle stops being a warlock), then mariela is fucked.

its possible. but still, 3 failed wisdom saves. marielas dc is only, what, 17? naielle still has a like 75% ish chance to get one of them. and even one success immediately fucks the plan. its not impossible, but its not great.

now a depowered naielle is NOT capable of killing mariela, ignoring the fact that naielle is not particularly inclined to do so, even if mariela is literally murdering her. naielles stubborn. but if she gets a turn off, she'll have to ability to alert people. and at that point shits fucked. like to get this to work, and stay working, you gotta kill her and keep her dead for over a minute. good luck?

an option for that is to remove her from the jade sea entirely, aware from the crew, and maybe just merc her in the astral sea. thats one of your spell slots spent just getting her there, assuming she doesnt manage to succeed on the check to Not Be Grabbed? like eg if its plane shift (which mariela wouldnt have access to, but lets not quibble), an unwilling creature has to hit with a melee spell attack (admittedly not hard here, her ac is only 16, marielas got over 50% chance to hit), and then fail a charisma save. even if naielle is no longer proficient with cha saves, its her highest stat. its not a sure bet. also if you use plane shift like that she gets banished on her own, you dont go with her and continue the fight. so you'd have to finagle.

removing naielle from the primary source of her power (her warlock patron) and her defences (the crew) are basically both required. if shes on her own in the astral sea, well. but llso! dragon king in pocket! if you start really wailing on her, and shes alone, if she gets the slightest chance she's going to do something with that orb, and she wont be happy about it afterwards but it might just give her the means to escape.

a LOT has to go marielas way to kill naielle, is all im saying. you'd want to get her out of the pact, remove her from the fleet, and ideally separate her from both the dragon orb AND her mindflayer sword, which SHE CAN USE TO PLANE SHIFT. Even if you're not on a different plane in this fight, Naielle might panic and peace the fuck out. you'd have to chase her. thats another spell slot.

fully mariela couldnt kill naielle unless she had help. maybe using a summon spell could help, get a creature restraining her, things of this nature. you have to completely disarm her. and if you did, and she's alone, and theres noone to save her, you would be forced to just like. eldritch blast her down. it would be a pathetic fight. it wouldnt be satisfying. it would be slow and painful and it would linger if shes trying to escape, and if shes not, thats not fucking satisfying either. no way thats what mariela would want. she might even give up after a bit of that.

probably easier overall to just kidnap her or smth. dont stop anywhere, just take her back or smth. she can be executed no problem. but mariela doing it herself is just going to be a miserable affair for everyone involved, including her.

[todayisafridaynight]

What the hell was that other anon on, I signed up to see masadai and minedai good shit, not that cursed timeline, it caused me PHYSICAL PAIN to read that last ask

Not even "oomf angst" pain but physical pain from trying to comprehend this at all smh REAL LIFE PSYCHIC DAMAGE

you hear that other anon we gotta stone you to death. sorry this is a democratic inbox :/

[unladielike]

    "Wow, one of my guesses was actually right? Jocks are truly something else..." Vivian exclaims, allowing pleasant surprise to seep through her voice. Honestly, she wonders just how strenuous practice was for Mizumachi to have enough room in his stomach for ten burgers, but regardless, it doesn't take long for a pensive hum to subsequently slip past her throat.

    "As for me... probably 4 or 5? When it comes to McJunior burgers at McDonalds, though, I could eat 7... provided, of course, there aren't any fries to go alongside them! But the food truck I'm taking you has such filling teriyaki cheese burgers, chances are high you'll be full from eating 4 or 5," Vivian then proceeds to point out before letting out a little laugh.

    "And yeah, I guess I kinda take after my mom in the sense I like ensuring my friends are fed! I also prefer being the one to pay, since... I dunno, it manages to make me feel manlier somehow, as if I'm one of the boys. I mean, usually, girls are never expected to pay for stuff whenever guys spend time with them, right? Hence why I get such a sense of empowerment from using what little money I have on my friends..."

    Then again, to most, her logic may sound incredibly silly; after all, it was now the twentieth century, meaning to genderize the concept of footing the bill itself could come across as extremely outdated. Even so, Vivian always subconsciously had the impression it would feel less like a date or would make her seem that much more 'manlier' if she was the one paying, to the point where she could count on one hand how many times she had recently allowed anyone else to treat her... which, for better or worse, remains a bad habit of hers to this very day. Still, with how much she hated being perceived as a normie, she'd rather her wallet become lighter than be forced to confront the reality she was truly a girl at heart.

    Either way, they'll soon reach Wakwak Burger, causing Vivian to come to an eventual halt ahead of him. "Ta-daaaah! What do you think?" she finally turns to flash a grin at Mizumachi just as the last customer strayed off from the front of the food truck.

[水]

She’d be correct in assessing him as a ‘himbo,’ considering that he didn’t always think before he did anything… and even if he did think, it sometimes wasn’t the most logically sound. It was like most of his IQ points went into sports and athleticism. He had this idea that she could pay for his burgers and he’d pay for hers, but realized the errors of his thought process when she spoke.

“Ah! Uh… I meant to say I’ll treat next time!”

Nice save, Mizumachi. Totally believable and sound reasoning. That’ll work, right? She can pay this time around and he can pay for the next time! That way he can return the favor because she also made some breakfast for him that other time. Hm?

“Let’s go! Say, do you like feeding people?”

He keeps pace with her as she walks them to the promised burger land- or rather, truck. If he had a nickle for each time she’d fed him, he’d have two nickles. It wasn’t a lot, but it was interesting how it happened twice already in the time they’ve known each other.

Selling Japanese burgers already would have him sold. Wakwak burger was going to have a new regular customer who was craving a reminiscent taste of home, no doubt. With how hungry he was feeling, somewhere close was definitely for the better, he’ll get to eat sooner!

“Ah… I could eat 5, yeah. Some days I could eat 10. Depends on how hungry I am. I eat a lot after practice.”

Which was to say that he didn’t gorge himself on food before practice, because it would only slow him down if he pigged out on food. It was better for him to make up for the calories lost during practice by eating his fill on food afterwards.

“How about you? 1? 2?”

Seemed like a safe conservative guess for how many burgers she could eat in a single sitting. It seemed pretty fun trying to guess how much she could eat.

[enwoso]

hey lovely, I’m sure you’ve had many requests but one of lovie when she was a newborn i don’t mind a short blurb/fic

FRAGILE — alessia russo x baby!reader

finally getting through the stack of requests!!! yes i have changed my pfp, felt like a change but idk if i vibe with it yet might have to change it back to the og photo…

side note: send in some requests!

grumpy masterlist

becoming a mother was a gift in itself and while alessia was still pretty young, she was cherishing each moment since becoming a mother just under two weeks ago.

you were the most chill baby ever and while of course you had your moments. your were still a baby you of course cried but nothing that a few snuggles in your mummy’s arms couldn’t slove.

alessia had been adjusting to having a little someone to watch over the past week and a bit and while it had been difficult the first few days, a little help from her mum and alessia was back on track.

the day had came for you to meet someone very special and important to your mummy. her best friend, ella toone.

and while alessia and ella may not have been sister by blood. they were definitely found sisters which made ella your chosen auntie.

ella had been talking about meeting you since you were born just over a week ago, so when it came to finally meeting you ella had already began to spoil you. bringing you a welcome to the world gift as well as bringing alessia some of her favourite things.

a big smile getting bigger as alessia introduced ella to you. you being asleep in alessia’s arms as ella stroked a light finger across your cheek, you not even moving an inch in your mummy’s arms.

“do you want to hold her?” alessia asked as the two took a break from the topic of conversation as ella shook her head furiously, no.

“no, no! she’s so small and fragile. i- ” ella quickly mumbled out as a confused look took over alessia’s face. confused as to why not considering ella had been so excited to finally meet you.

“why?”

"no less i can't, i don't want to hurt her..." ella trailed off as alessia rolled her eyes at her best friends clear panic, waving it off as alessia placed you down gently in your bouncer for a moment.

“so sit back comfortably and then this hand is going to hold her head, and then this hand will go under her bottom” alessia pointed to each hand and showing the position ella’s hands should be in, in order to hold you properly.

alessia moved to carefully pick you back up out of your rocker, your being peacefully asleep. your arms stiffening up as alessia picked you back up and moved her body to face her best friend.

slowly placing you in ella’s arms as ella was in shock, whispering oh my god, under her breath as your tiny form was placed into her arms. alessia having to move ella’s hands slightly in order to make sure your tiny head was being supported properly.

“see, your a natural!” alessia smiled at her best friend who was sat so tense carefully that if she made any movement that one you’ll wake up and two she might hurt you, that being the last thing ella wanted to do.

“less, she’s tiny!” ella gushed as she looked down at you in awh as alessia nodded, that you were. alessia watched as ella slowly got more comfortable with holding you, as she admired your tiny features.

“i actually can’t believe that she’s here, feels like just yesterday when you found out you were going to be a mum” ella commented as alessia let out a little laugh, the time had gone fast but she was trying to cherish every moment.

“it does doesn’t it!” alessia continued, “she’s going to be one lucky little girl”

[ellieslittlewh0re]

chapped lips - seattle! ellie x wlf reader

summary - you’re kinda new to the wlf and when your group gets taken out by scars, you’re left alone… at least that’s what you thought until a girl knocks you unconscious and holds you hostage.

wk - 5k

additional tags - revenge! ellie, interrogation play, canon game violence, blood! mention, gun play, name calling, mean! ellie, rough lesbian sex, fingering (e! and reader both receiving) humping?, reader! is a little off her rockers bc she me fr, use of the word daddy (im sorry), degrading (e! to reader), thigh riding, name calling (crazy bitch, slut, whore), this is literally canon seattle! ellie in all her glory, no physical description of reader

It don't know how it happened. I was supposed to go to my post and take out any scars that I came across. Basically, it was suppose to be a normal, average day. I got up at the usual time, ate what I normally would eat before heading out and hell.. I was even was with the usual group that I was always working with. Posted up in a less trafficked area had us comfy, cocky even. My group had their guards down. Me included. Sneaky assholes got the high ground on us.

I don't know if I was the only one who made it. In the chaos of guns firing, arrows flying and the screams of my people being slaughtered, I had ducked into a building in downtown Seattle. Up until now I didn't even know this building was here since we never bothered to send anyone out this far from base.

"Fuck." I take a deep breath, steadying the gun I clutched in my hands. I draw it, pointing it towards the front door and windows that lined up facing the street. I scan with my gun looking for anything really. Scars, anyone from my group that may have survived. Any movement at all but it was silent. Bodies littered the street. I recognize a comrades body that laid lifeless on a hood of a rusted taxi.

I can't stay here. I thought to myself, cowering behind a counter still squeezing the pistol in my hands.

"C'mon. You got this." I take a few deep breaths to gain to courage to get the fuck out of there. I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment when a slight squeak of the linoleum floor alerted me. I snap my head to the direction of the noise. A flash of color and something came down heavy on my head then everything went black.

"Hey-"

Was I dreaming?

"Wake up."

Who's voice is that? Did I dream the whole thing? I am waking up for the first time and my whole grouped didn't just get killed in front of me.

*slap*

My eyes fly open and my head is pounding. I blink repeatedly trying to take in the surroundings. It didn't look like my barracks room. My cheek began to sting and I go to touch it, but I couldn't.

"About time."

I follow the voice looking up. It was a girl. A girl I didn't recognize.

"What? who'r you?" I groan in agony. My head felt like it was going to explode and my wrists started to go numb. I look up to my hands that were cuffed to a drawer above me. Skin red around where the metal was digging in. This definitely wasn't a dream.

"Where's Abby?" She knelt down in front of me using a bat to steady herself. Her voice was raspy, demanding and didn't sound like she was looking to make a friend.

"Who?" My voice went up a pitch from annoyance. Who the fuck is this girl and why the fuck is she holding me hostage.

"Don't play dumb. Abby Anderson. She's one of you." She takes her index finger and moves it up to the patch on my jacket.

"You think I know every wolf? There's fucking hundreds of us." I shove my shoulder into her hand, forcing her touch away.

"For your sake you should probably think a little harder." She stood and hovered over me, adjusting the grip on the bat she was wielding.

"Or?- What? You're going to kill me?" I let out a humorless chuckle. I furrow my brows at her, puffing out my chest trying to come off as intimidating even if I was the one restrained.

"It's your last chance." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her knuckles turning white from her firm grip on the bat.

"Fuck you." I spat. Yanking on cuffs, but it didn't help. I felt the stinging around my wrist intensify and a warm trickle down my arm. I didn't know why I was fighting anymore. I didn't want to be apart of the this group in the first place but they had guns and food, things necessary to survive and I wanted to keep living. It felt like it was going to be cut short anyways when I notice her bring the bat over her head and throw it down towards my face.

"WAIT!" I flinch and scream just before it could make contact causing her to pause. I take a few deep, shaky breaths as she crouched down in front of me once again.

"You said Abby... Blonde hair? Works out a lot?" Too scared to make eye contact I keep my eyes fixated on the girls shoes. Dirty converse that were worn and stained with blood.

"Where." She wasn't asking she was demanding. Her tone was sharp and cold which made me flinch.

"No- no one has seen her since yesterday..." a tremble could be heard in my voice. I shut my eyes and brace for the wood. Either she's not going to believe me and kill me or it wasn't what she'd want to hear and kill me.

"Bull-fucking-shit." She chucked lightly but it wasn't out of humor.

"It's the truth. She left without permission yesterday and hasn't come back." I gain the courage to look in her eyes and stand my ground. Hoping that she'd just believe me and let me go.

She stood, pacing back in forth dragging the bat behind her.

"Please- just let me go.... I won't say anything. I'll just pretend-" I was cut off by the shattering of glass. I got on my feet and peek over the counter at the front windows. Familiar whistles and people in homemade leather jackets start to flank the building.

"Fuck me." The girl cursed under her breath, taking cover behind a shelving unit a few feet from me.

"Unlock it." I demanded. Pulling at the cuffs.

"Fuck no. You'll just kill me as soon as you get the chance." She held her pistol firming by the side of her head, peaking around the shelves. A arrow flew past her, missing by a few centimeters.

"No... I'll help kill these fuckers and then I'll try to kill you." My patience was wearing thin and she seemed to appreciate the honesty. She readied herself, taking a few steps back and then running across the open fire, sliding herself next to me.

"Don't move."

"Wait- why?-" I was cut off by the sound her gun firing and I felt a burning sensation in between my wrists. I felt my hands free from the awkward position.

"Give me my gun." I held my hand out, peaking over the counter in a frenzied state. She hesitates making me look at her in frustration. My eyes widen in a 'what the fuck are you doing' kind of way.

"We kill these fuckers first. Yeah?" She raised her brows at me with a nod. I roll my eyes at her and huff.

"Oh my fucking god-" I was cut off by the sound of more glass shattering and gun fire, casing me to flinch.

She slapped down the weapon in my open palm and give me a look of 'you ready?' and I nod back to her.

She fires gun shots at the entrance as I make it over to the other side of the building. I keep myself concealed, ducking and sliding behind furniture as I try to take them by surprise. I find a broken window and jump out of it and take cover behind the same taxi except now blood poured from the hood. I peak from behind the car and take aim at a scar that was further behind the rest. I steady my hand and shoot casing him to go down. The sound of my gun alerting another one. He aims his rifle at me, but it was too late I let another bullet fire, hitting him in the chest. The girl who was once my captor was now my partner for the time being. She proved herself useful and skilled. She'd taken out a few that were closest to the building, making more flood the front which just made it easier for me.

The sound of gun firing had stopped, leaving the sound of wind that rustled the trash in the streets. I scan the street and slowly start to stand up from behind the car when I felt a hand throw me backwards by my hair.

"AH!" I scream, trying to pry the hands from my scalp. A large man with a machete crawled on top of me. I reach for my gun that fell to my side but he tosses it out of reach. I hit and claw at the bald man's face which made him put his knees on my arms, leaving me completely helpless against his strength.

"Such a pretty little thing." The man sneers and I felt him wrap his hands around my throat. I gasp and flail trying to loosen myself from him, but I couldn't. He squeezed harder and harder, making my vision go blurry and I heard ringing in my ears. It started to go dark again but I heard one last *pop* and the tension around my neck relaxed. I gasp and cough, not really sure what happened. I felt warm liquid pool down my neck in chest. I look down to see the now dead man partially on top of me, open wound to the back of his head. I push him off and crawl out from underneath him.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people." I continue to try and catch my breath, wiping away the blood splatter and sweat off of my face.

"You're welcome."

My state of adrenaline induced shock was interrupted by the girls voice. I turn to her in disbelief that one: she killed somebody to save me and two: she had the nerve to crack a joke right now.

"I didn't ask for your help." I pick my gun off of the ground, shoving it into the waist of my jeans.

"Oh? So you wanted him to kill you?" She sounded annoyed that I didn't kiss her feet for the favor.

"What does it matter? You're going to kill me anyways!" I throw my hands up as my voice grew louder. I hear her sigh and suck her teeth. I didn't understand her. She was fully intended on bashing my head open, but then she had a change of heart and saves me?

"If you're done here can we get this over with?" I snap at her and start to walk back into the building.

"Not here. Not safe anymore."

I paused briefly, confused by her words. 'Not safe anymore' what does that matter if you're just going to kill me?

I follow her a few blocks away making sure to hang a few feet back. I would be so easy to shoot her right now and she'd have no idea. I should shoot her. I mean she knocked me unconscious, cuffed me and threatened to kill me. It's clear she has issues with the WLF and specifically this Abby chick. Whatever it is, I don't care. I have my own personal beef with the WLF and this girl she's looking for isn't my friend or anyone special to me so maybe that's why I didn't shoot her.

"Seriously where the fuck are we going?" I break the silence and my voice echoed throughout the street.

"Somewhere secure." She answered but continued to look straight ahead.

We continued to walk for another half hour or so, the only noise was the sound of our feet shuffling pebbles and debris that littered the roads.

"How much further?" My agitation grew with each passing minute. Growing more anxious that I had no idea what this girl plans to do with me.

"Stop bitching. We're here." She stopped in her place making me almost run into her.

I look up at the sign on the front of the building that read 'Pinnacle Theater' and scoffed.

"Is now the best time to watch a movie?"

"It's safe." She snapped, turning back to shoot me a glare.

Safe? Safe from what? The only thing that's a threat to my safety right now is her so why did she bring me here?

"Whatever." I roll my eyes and follow her into the building.

I take in the surroundings of the theater. The large burgundy curtains that hung on the walls gave it a gaudy, over the top feel. Once fancy chairs and couches were now coated in a thick layer of dust and mildew. My attention to the interior of the large room was diverted to a rattling behind me.

"What are you doing?" I furrow my brows at her in confusion as she was putting the legs of a chair in between the handles of the doors.

"Do you want more of those assholes showing up?" She spit back, sounding annoyed that I had the audacity to question her. I roll my eyes once again at her attitude, crossing my arms over chest in a way to shield myself.

"Sit." The seriousness of her tone snapped me out of thoughts and caused me to look at her. Her brows were slightly furrowed and her jaw was tense, making her bone structure more defined than it already was. I was scared of her so I obeyed, slowly lowering myself on a nearby couch while keeping my eyes on her. If she was going to make a move I didn't want to be caught off guard.

"Where's Abby?" She took a few steps closer to me and maintained a hateful stare.

"I told you... she left."

I watch her face contort from my words. The slight flare of her nostrils and the curl of her lip made my heart start to pound faster. She started to pace again... forward a few steps and turning around and doing the same, repeating her movements. A fuse was being snapped the longer I watched her, a switch within that was half-way being flipped. She stopped her pacing and lunged at me, whipping out her pistol out of her back pocket to point it at my face.

"Where?" Her voice became course and there was a slight tremble.

"Pl-please.... I told you already. I've just joined the WLF a few months ago... I don't know anything." I flinch. Breaking the eye contact turning my face away, squeezing my eyes shut.

I hear her take a quick breath and then the cocking of her gun. I let out a whimper, squeezed my eyes even tighter and braced for what's to come.

"Fuck-" She breathed heavily and I hear her take a few steps back lowering her gun. I timidly open my eyes and watch her as she sits on the ground. Her head hung low in between her legs that were propped up. Her hand was still clutched around the handle of her gun but I noticed the tremble of her free hand. She breathed heavily, slowly like she was trying to sooth herself. The tough act that she put on up until this point was now crumbling beneath her feet.

I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanting to flee and another part of me wanted to comfort her which confused me. I don't know her and our first time meeting each other wasn't really all that pleasant, but she was hurting and that was something that I could connect with. I hear her sniffle and she quickly goes to wipe the tears.

"Hey-" I start to get up but was rudely stopped by her pointing her gun as she stood and took a few steps back.

"I-I'm not going to hurt you if you don't hurt me." I held my hands up high for her to see as I slowly reach into my waistband as she followed my movements with her gun. The sound of mental hitting the carpeted floor bounced off the walls. Maybe I'm trusting her too much by discarding the only weapon I had to defend myself, but I felt like she didn't want to hurt me she just felt like she had no other choice.

"See?" I lower my hands back down to my side as she looked at me with confusion, the grip on her weapon tightening.

"You think I won't?" She took a few strides forward, now leaving me at arm's length with only a few inches between the tip of her gun and my chest. My teeth clench and I break out in a cold sweat.

"No. I don't." I take a small step forward allowing her gun to dig into my chest. I felt coldness of the barrel through my clothes. My breath hitched and a shudder ran up my spine. The girl looked at me in disbelief, glancing at my partly opened lips and the contact of her gun.

"You're fucking crazy." She chuckled lowly.

"Maybe." I whispered as I tilt my head to the side. We stood in this position for what felt like hours but in reality probably only a few seconds had gone by. I noticed her breathing pick up as she fixed her eyes on the cleavage that poured out the top of my low cut shirt. A realization hit me when I noticed what she was looking at. She was turned on by what she saw. I didn't know if it was simply because she found me attractive or the whole holding me at gunpoint and at her mercy was just a fucked up kink of hers.

Getting a closer look at her face she was quite beautiful, handsome almost. Bright green eyes framed by dark long lashes, freckles dispensed unevenly across her face, full lips that had a scar that ran through the top corner and how her dark auburn hair was tied up messily in a half up- half down style. Her sharpe bone structure making her seem more masculine and how she carried herself was much more of a man. She was a type of girl I hardly came across and she was exactly my type.

I grab her gun slowly and push it down and to my surprise she didn't retaliate. I take one last step forward until we are chest to chest. I didn't realize it before, but she is much taller than me. She could easily overpower me and I just hoped it didn't come down to that. I subconsciously bit down on my lip as I look at her parted mouth, I felt her breath brush against my own.

"What are you doing?" She breathed, leaning in slightly looking perplexed.

"If you're not going to kill me then what else are we going to do?" I blink wide-eyed at her, cocking my head slightly as a whininess took over my voice. The corner of her lips tugged up into a devilish smirk.

Her hand gripped tightly on arm, forcing me backwards. She pushed me down on the couch, pining my back against it as she got on top and straddled my legs.

"You really are fucking crazy." She gritted through her teeth before I felt her lips clash against mine. Her lips were chapped and felt rough against my own. The aggression and desperation of her kiss caused me to moan as her tongue slipped into my mouth. I felt fingers tips drag over my thin fabric top before she squeezed my breast harshly.

"Fuck-" I break the kiss, looking at her through half hooded eyes. I was panting looking up at the girl as she looked down on me with hunger. I felt a heat building in my core making my decision making fuzzy. I roll my head to the side and noticed her hand still holding onto her gun. Dark green-blue ink that came together into a delicate looking drawing covered almost her entire forearm.

Her fingers were long and small cuts and scrapes covered them. I imagined what she would feel like inside of me which caused a small whine to leave my lips. Maybe I am crazy...because why the fuck am I having these thoughts when she is holding a gun this close to my head all the while making out with me? She glanced to where I was looking and caught me deep in my thoughts.

"Does this turn you on? Huh?" She lifted her hand that held the weapon and swayed it in front of my face, almost in a way of trying to shame me.

A whimper escaped my lips unintentionally and a deep-rooted desire was coming to the surface. I don't know if it was the stress or how attracted I was to her, but being scared of her just made me all the more aroused.

"You're so fucked up." She humiliates me like she was on a power trip as she pressed the tip of the gun to my temple. My body shudders as I felt the icy metal brush against my skin.

"Pl-please..." I whine at her, begging her to do something about the heat building in my pussy. I squeeze my thighs together underneath her as tears start to form in my eyes.

"Please what? Use your words princess." She kissed slowly at my neck.

"Touch me." I breathe out, my voice trembling.

I hear a giggle and her breath in my neck.

"Name's Ellie. Use it." She sternly demanded. Her voice rough and almost hoarse.

"Ellie- I need you t-to touch me." My hips started to grind the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

"Good girl." I felt her teeth dig into my neck before lifting herself back up to look down at me. She kept her eyes on my own as she placed her gun down, probably making sure I wouldn't try to grab it. Her hands move down to unbutton my pants and I lift my ass, allowing her to remove them completely. My breathing hitched as she cupped my pussy, gently rubbing small circles over my underwear.

"Fuuuck- you're so fucking wet for me even though I tried to kill you. You're such a crazy bitch." Her choice of words made the throbbing more intense.

I moan as I move my hips against her hand, head rolling back as I focus on getting myself off but she pulled her hand away before I could.

I watch her confused as she lifts herself off of me and then sitting back down.

"Get on top." She sounded impatient, patting her leg.

I hesitantly crawl further down the couch, lifting one leg over her thigh and holding her shoulders to steady me.

I felt her fingers wrapped behind my neck pulling me in to reconnect our lips. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth as I let out another moan. The thin fabric of my underwear, now soaked, made the ridges of her jeans more apparent.

"Mm fuck- el-lie." My hips started to rock back and forth against her leg.

"That's it. Use me, slut." She gritted, molding various parts of my exposed skin in between her fingers.

I felt her hands grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. She kissed and bit at the delicate skin between my breast, but it wasn't enough. She pulled my bra down so the straps hung off of my shoulders, leaving my chest exposed. Her mouth enveloped my nipple, sucking and then biting it gently.

"Fuuu- mmm-" Biting my lip to silence my wines as I felt goosebumps form on my exposed skin.

My hand wondered down to the button on her jeans as steadied myself with the other.

"C-can I?" I ask for permission through wet eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed upwards but was already unzipping her pants and slipping my hand inside. Her hand that harshly gripped my side came up around my throat causing me to pause. I felt her fingers squeeze around my neck but she didn't say anything. I study her expression trying to understand if she wanted me to stop. Her eyes were dark and filled with lust, lips parted as her chest rose and fell from her rapid breathing. I cautiously slipped my fingers in between her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal.

"Fuck-" She leaned her head back against the couch and adjusted her hips, allowing me easier access. She rocked her pussy into my fingers as I did the same on her thigh. Seeing her in this submissive position and at mercy to what I was doing to her made my heat burn hotter. She must have felt the way I was watching her and switched back to her more controlling behavior, slipping her hand in my underwear.

"Mmmm-" I bit down on my lip, throwing my head back while still trying to keep my rhythm on her pussy. I dragged my cunt against her fingers. My hole dripping and coating her hand and letting her slip her finger in easily.

"Ahh... Fuck.. yes Ellie- j-just like that." I started to bounce my pussy on her finger, leaning back and grabbing the back of my calf with one hand to keep me stabilized while the other sloppily encircled her clit.

"Keep doing that baby.." She breathed heavily and her words broken while still trying to maintain her position of power, but she was weakened from my touch. Her aggressive, harsh tone was now much softer and feminine. Her whimpers and moans sounded like honey coated candies, sweet and sounded like music to my ears. Her breathing quickened and the distance between her cries were getting shorter. Her eyes squeezed shut as her head tilted back, signaling she was close.

"Fuck- I'm-" Her jaw hung open and her body tensed underneath me.

"C-cum fr' me Ellie.." I bounced lazily on her fingers, wet sloshes and strained moaning filled the room. I slowed my pace against her clit as her hips stilled and then buckled, leaving her limp for a few seconds.

Her chest rising and falling deeply as she caught her breath. She looked at me with wide eyes then shifted back to the girl I first met. Her eyes darkened and her jaw tensed, lifting herself as she held into my thigh putting me beneath her once again. I look up at her with sex drunk eyes, pulling her down to feel her chapped lips on mine. I held onto the sides of her face as we tasted each other, savoring every last drop.

"You're so f'ckn sexy baby." She panted, reaching down and rushing to tug my underwear out of her way.

"Mmm Fuuu—" I moan, bitting my bottom lip as I felt her fingers slip between my folds.

"M' not gonna go easy on you." She mumbled into my neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind my ear.

"G-good." My voice trembled as I felt a finger enter and a second follow shortly behind. Her pace quickened and my eyes start to fill with tears. I look up at her through wet eye lashes, pitiful and dazed. I pull her head down and kiss her deeply, moaning into her mouth.

Her fingers pounded into my cunt without mercy, leaving my body limp and unable to control myself. My moans turned to screaming as her wrist slapped against my clit with each thrust. The fingers of her free hand dug into my leg that was draped over her shoulder as she gently placed kisses to my calf.

"M' so close..." I cry out, tear stained cheeks as I study her face, her watching how my pussy takes her fingers. Her brows furrowed, her mouth hung open ever so slightly. The sweat glistened on her nose and forehead from the rigorous movements. The milky fluid of my sex coated her knuckles.

"You like it rough- huh?" She gritted through her teeth, grabbing the back of my thigh and pushing it forward, allowing the pressure to dig deeper.

"Oh- ohhh Fuuck.. y- yes daddy.. mm-" I barely can make out, eyes rolled back into my head as she fucks against my cervix.

"Be a good girl- Cum fr' daddy." Her raspy, sex driven voice ricocheted through my body. My back arched, my head fuzzy as I grabbed the couch cushion. The air was sticky and thick as my hips rolled and twitched sporadically, not being able to control my movements. I watch her through blurred vision, the silhouette of her hazy from my tear filled eyes. My jaw falls open, my eyes squeeze shut and my climax rolls throughout my body like waves. Bolts of electricity course through me causing my hips to jolt. She slows her pace against my cunt, riding me out until my body stills.

I lay motionless, body splayed out on the couch as I catch my breath. My pussy continued to throb from the sudden absence. I felt her sit down on the couch just below my propped-up knees, causing me to look down at her from my horizontal position. She examined her fingers, still wet, and brought them to her mouth.

"You taste so good baby.. I need more."

[pathetichimbos]

I wanna eat Thomas up like he my LAST MEAL 😫😫

Shawtyyy like I’m beating up his guts like I die TOMORROW!! 💖💖

Honestly if I saw him with my (dumbass) group of friends I would turn to them and be like “hol’ on i’ma try to wife up this super model ova here, go on without me cuz this town is my new home as long as he here.” While LOUDLY pointing to Thomas and trying to be suave AF but lookin dumb in the process. Lowkey though I feel like realistically he would think I’m making fun of him and kill me first 😭😭.

What’s your take on it?? How would our (hot-sexy-mouthwatering) Thomas Hewitt take a very bold flirtatious reader?? Thanks and bye!! ✌️💖💖

I am having thoughts and feelings about this thank you very much

So, we all know Thomas is a very shy and reserved man. He isn't bold or confident by any means. He does as he's told, and sticks to himself, pretty much never leaving his comfort zone.

But, Luda Mae's getting older, and despite her head-strong and strong-willed demeanor, Thomas worries about her.

So, he starts spending more time at the old country store, if for no reason other than to serve as a deterrent for the off-handed biker or degenerate looking for an excuse to try and rob a poor old station clerk.

It works, and Luda Mae enjoys spending more time with her son.

There's not much to do out at the shop, and so more often than not Thomas finds himself resting out in the old rocker to escape the hot smoky air wafting from the patron's and his mother's cigarettes.

It's a cool October afternoon, a nice breeze keeping the hot sun at bay as he gently pushes himself back and forth with his foot, eyes closed as he rests.

He hears you before he sees you, the loud, excited yells of a group of young women fading in from the distance as a jeep kicks up dirt, pulling up to one of the old, rusty pumps.

He squints his eyes open, watching as the four of you sing along to the radio, no one concerned with how off-key y'all may be.

He sighs, closing his eyes again, not moving from his seat in the old rocker as your group continues having the time of your lives.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," A clear voice suddenly emerges from the chaos, the music lowering to a quiet hum, "Who is that?"

He opens his eyes again, seeing that you have set your eyes on him from your place in the backseat, sunglasses lowered to take in a better look.

He frowns behind his mask, face scrunching in expectancy, waiting to hear the barrage of rude comments and hideous bullying.

The rest of your friends glance over his way as he shuffles in his seat, shoulders tensing as he looks away, uncomfortable with the attention.

"Goddamn." You start again, letting out a low whistle, "If this is what this town has to offer y'all can just leave me here."

A large eruption of playful teasing, groans, and eye rolls come from your friend group as you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a large, flirtatious grin.

He looks back, caught off guard by the terrible pick up line, frozen in place as you blow him a kiss.

"Are you for sale, pumpkin, 'cause I could just eat you up!"

"Oh, my god, leave the poor man alone." One of your friends tease you, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you further into the car.

He can't help but stare, left in shock by the sudden and unexpected flirting.

You couldn't be serious, right...?

There's no way you could actually be flirting with him right now... Right?

His thought process is broken as you ungracefully climb out of the truck, pulling yourself over the door and almost busting your face in the process.

Brown eyes stay glued to you as you walk over to him, hips swaying in what he was sure to be a much more suave and appealing way than the dorky saunter you were pulling now.

...This was definitely a joke.

"Hey." You barely stifle through your amused giggling to speak, "Do you have a name or can I just call you mine?"

"Y/N!" Your friends groan loudly from the car, watching you attempt to work your magic.

He looks you up and down, trying to figure out if this was some strange attempt to mock him or if you were actually coming onto him, the latter making his face flush pink at the idea.

"Thomas!" His mother steps out of the shop, poking her head out to look at the two of you, "Come help me put this stuff up."

He isn't sure if she really needs help or if it's a feeble attempt to get him out of the situation, and to be completely honest, he's not really sure he wants to leave.

But his mother says she needs help, so he stands from his chair, rising to his full height, something that would cause most people to take at least a small step back, but your smile only seems to grow as you stand in place, clearly checking him out as you look him up and down.

He starts to ignore you, heading back inside, only to hear the wooden floorboards creak behind him as he reaches the counter.

He looks back, a confused look on his face as he sees you following behind like a lost duckling.

"Don't mind me," You wink, "My mama just always told me to follow my dreams."

He huffs in amusement at that, shaking his head.

Maybe your pickup lines weren't all that bad.

...

As time goes on, and the more he gets to know you, the more he's going to find your flirtatious advances amusing and endearing, but if you don't make it very clear from the beginning that there's actual feelings behind your remarks, he's going to assume that they're just jokes and you're not actually into him.

He's a big romantic, he'll catch feelings rather easily the more you flirt and tease him, and if he isn't 100% sure that they're more than just jokes, he'll eventually grow to resent them because he feels like he's being teased, even if you have no idea he has feelings for you at all, so communication (while a big deal in every relationship) will be especially important if you're a flirtatious person.

[leeknow-thoughts]

hey i’m the 2minjeong anon, can i request jilix to destroy the reader whole since the reader kept on teasing them about being submissive babygirls (but they’re the complete opposite)

୨୧ ESPRESSO

𝝑𝝔 cw : mommy!lix, daddy!jisung, poly!JILIX, mxm action, 3way, degrading, oral (ji and reader rec.), Dom!Jilix

𝝑𝝔 a/n : gang I fw jilix so much I went a LITTLE off my rocker when I read this ask. my dearest 2minjeong anon welcome back into my ask box I missed you bb :3 ALSO school starts up for me on the 8th so I probably won't be as active !! I promise I'll still try and yap on here as much as I can <3

Your eyes are on your phone, scrolling through TikTok, stumbling across a video about Jisung and Felix, and you can't help but laugh at the way the video portrays them. Their compilation of pouty and sassy moments led the comments to calling them 'the babygirls of skz'. You can't help but laugh at the nickname, it was true at times, but for the most part, in bed at least, they called the shots. "You know-" you begin and Jisung is quick to interrupt you with a groan, "what do you mean ugh?"

"Every time you start off a sentence with 'you know', you're going to say something not very smart."

"That's literally bullshit, I'm smart all the time, aren't I, Pixie?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Felix mumbles.

"You're both so fake, but whatever! I could make you both my bitches so easily," you announce.

"Is that all you wanted to say?" Jisung questions.

"I-uh well yeah?"

Felix, however is more defensive, "that's such bullshit," he scoffs.

"Whatever you say," you pause, "babygirl," you can't help but stifle your laughter as you mock him, "and you too Ji, I could easily have my way with the two of you."

"Yeah?" Jisung's eyebrows are raised in amusement, "sure you could."

That's what started the whole thing, you babying them anywhere and everywhere the three of you went. Cutting their steaks at restaurants, talking to them in a baby voice, and calling them 'babygirl' nonstop.

Honestly, the two of them didn't mind that much, going along with the joke, even playing into it at times. That was until you treated them like that in front of their group mates at dinner. "Here you go babygirl," you pass a piece of steak to Jisung and he gives you a very unamused look.

"Babygirl?!" Jeongin is practically screaming, doubling over on Hyunjin, who is laughing so hard you think he may lose his voice.

Chris is trying not to choke on the piece of steak in his mouth as he looks at Jisung's face. "I knew it!" Minho cheers through a smile, "Jisung is a sub."

"Nuh uh!" Jisung is quick to try and defend himself.

"Power bottom at most," Changbin snorts from his seat across from you.

"Oh God," Seungmin is laughing so hard he's crying, wiping a tear from his eye, "Lix is one too I just know it."

"I'm not," Felix defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Power bottom at most," you copy Changbin.

Your remark has the boys cackling, getting weird looks from others at the restaurant.

You're sandwiched between Jisung and Felix as the three of you walk back to your apartment, Felix's right hand in the back pocket of your jeans, Jisung's left arm hugging around your waist. "That whole stunt you pulled back there was amusing," Felix whispers so that only you and Jisung can hear him, "if only they knew what a slut you are for us."

It feels like all the air was knocked out of your lungs, "I-I," you stumble over your words.

"Why are you so quiet, jagi?" Jisung hums, "I thought you were the one in charge?"

When you stay silent Felix speaks again, "don't worry, darling, we'll remind you of your place tonight."

The thought of what they're going to do to you has you whimpering.

As soon as you're inside your apartment Jisung has you shoved against the wall, his lips on your own. You can feel him grinding his semi-hard cock on your leg, "Ji," Felix's voice is deeper than usual, "come on, have some kind of resolve," Felix is scolding the older boy.

"Look at her, Lix," Jisung is moaning, "can't help it."

"Maybe Changbin hyung was right, maybe you are just a power bottom," Felix rolls his eyes, "because you're just a brain-dead cum dump, I guess I'll be the one deciding what to do to you," he degrades.

A whimper comes from your throat. "You're gonna go sit on the bed and take off your clothes, you have five minutes," Felix dismisses you.

You swiftly obey his orders, you peel your clothes off and undo your shoes, throwing them into the abyss of your bedroom.

"What's the safeword?" Felix says as he's opening the door, Jisung following after him.

"Red," you blurt.

Jisung is smiling at you softly, "remember you say that anytime you want and we stop, mkay? Remember, we both love you so much."

You knew you were in for it when Jisung said that, one of them always made sure to remind you that they love you before they fuck your brains out.

"Open your legs," Felix commands.

You uncross your legs and shyly begin opening them, however, Felix who had grown impatient of your shyness, roughly spreads your legs wide open. Revealing your sopping wet cunt.

"God, you're such a whore," he runs a finger through your folds, pushing his pointer finger in your hole.

He grins and pushes another finger in your dripping hole, before quickly pulling them out. "Open," he is talking about your mouth.

Your jaw drops and he puts his pointer and middle finger slick with your juices in your mouth. And you taste your essence while sucking on Felix's fingers like they're an ice pop. "That's it," Felix praises.

The thumb on Felix's spare hand rubs your clit so softly, making you jolt with every feather-like motion of his finger. "Such a sensitive little pussy," he coos above you.

He removes his fingers from your mouth and kneels down so he is eye level with your cunt. He keeps eye contact when he softly kisses your clit. A moan rips from your throat at the jolt of electricity that runs through your body.

"Such a messy little pussy," Jisung tuts.

Felix sucks on your clit while expertly fingering your dripping hole. The whole sensation making your body contort from pleasure. Your eyes travel over to Jisung who is watching you get your pussy eaten with an almost dehumanizing gaze. A gaze that has your cunt clenching.

You are chanting a matra of their names as Felix plays with you like you're a toy. "I think you're wet enough now," Felix figures before you can cum.

You whine at the withdraw of his mouth and fingers to your cunt. "Aw last time I checked, desperate sluts like yourself aren't allowed to complain," he spits.

"C'mon, want you on all fours," Felix taps your inner thigh, signalling you to get up.

You eagerly flip over onto all fours, and Felix's fingers push into your hole again. The feeling catches you off guard and makes you yelp from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

"That's it honey, just focus on feeling good," Felix coos with faux sympathy.

Felix removes his fingers and lines his cock up with your entrance. He slowly pushes in, letting you feel every vein and curve of his dick. "Mommy! It-it oh my God!" you cry.

He doesn't stay still for long, before giving you time to adjust he is slamming back into you. His cock hits the spot that makes you go cross-eyed and moan out. "Open," Jisung is tapping your cheek, his hard cock in front of your face.

Your jaw drops and he is quick to stick his dick down your throat, "isn't she cute like this, Lix? Full of cock like a stupid pocket pussy," Jisung is groaning, pushing your head at the rhythm he chooses.

His degrading words have your cunt clenching around Felix's cock, "she is," Felix agrees through a moan, "such a good cum dump, just for us."

You're gagging on Jisung's cock as it hits the back of your throat, tears spilling down your face. "Oh look at this, she's crying on my cock," Jisung's voice is condescending, "I know, I know, it just feels so good with mommy fucking your little cunt and daddy fucking your throat."

Felix's pace is fucking hypnotizing, hitting every spot inside you that has you gushing. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your orgasm. Toppling over the edge once Felix's hand reaches down to rub your clit.

You barely have time to revel in the feeling of your orgasm because Jisung is cumming down your throat, "swallow it like a good girl," he commands.

You have no more brain power at this point, happily swallowing Jisung's cum. "You gonna cum, Lixie?" Jisung asks the younger man.

Jisung is pulling his cock out of your mouth and walking back behind you, and you can hear the unmistakable sound of Jisung making out with Felix while Felix is still fucking your cunt.

"Mommy! Please!" you yelp.

Felix cums with a heavenly groan and you feel his cum seeping into your swollen pussy. "Who's the submissive one now?" Felix taunts with a blissful smile.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Always and Never Our Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You love Deacon and Deacon loves you, but you keep missing one another because the time is never right. Until your time, imperfect and late at night, finally comes along.

Warnings: angst to fluff, insecurities and misunderstandings, canon divergent, comfort at the end

Word Count: 4.3k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

It’s tiring watching the man you dream about from a distance. Though you’re standing inches from him, working side-by-side with your life in his hands daily, there’s a distance between you and Deacon Kay that you’re desperate but unable to close. You love Deacon - have loved him for years - but you missed your chance. The brief moment where you simply knew Deacon, where you could have made your dream come true had you just told him how you felt, came crashing down when it ended.

The weight of your unspoken feelings grows more suffocating each day that passes. But the timing isn’t right, so you’ll stay by his side and support him in everything. If, or when, your time finally comes, you’ll be ready.

“How’s Annie?” Luca asks as you exit Black Betty.

Once upon a time, Deacon offered a hand to help you. Today, as he talks about his girlfriend, you thank Hondo for his assistance as you place your palm over his and jump onto the asphalt.

“She’s great,” Deacon answers, sending an invisible glance your way. “She pointed out again that we could have been married by now if I’d asked her out sooner.”

“Good things come to those who wait, that’s what you always say, right, Deac?” Tan interjects.

You barely conceal your amused snort at that; if all you had to do to get good things was be patient, a lot of people would stop fighting for the things they love, content to sit in silence on the sidelines or bide their time with something else until what they wanted was ready. Not completely dissimilar to what you’re doing, you realize.

“Right,” Deacon agrees, furrowing his brow as he watches you. “But we’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s bound to be some questions in this period of moving from friends to being in a relationship.”

“What about you?” Hondo asks quietly. “Anything new in your life?”

“I heard a new joke,” you answer. “Two, if you count my thoughts about my own life.”

“Hey,” Hondo says, pulling you to a stop as everyone enters HQ. He waits until you face him to add, “I get it. Even if you don’t want me to see it, I know you’re not the same as you were before Deac and Annie started dating. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but don’t put your life on hold for one relationship that may never happen.”

“You want me to start dating someone else to get my mind off him? Hondo, this isn’t a romcom.”

Hondo laughs, but you can tell he genuinely cares about you in this. “Trust me, there’s nothing funny about this. I just don’t want to see you get hurt any more than you have to. If he’s moving on… maybe you should consider doing the same, even if it’s just taking the next stop by yourself and doing something for you.”

You hum, surprised by Hondo’s good advice. “Thanks. In that case, join me for spa night?”

“I know you’re kidding, but I could use it. Convince Luca to gift you the package and I’ll come with.”

You roll your eyes as you walk into HQ with Hondo. When you walk behind Deacon and hear him mention his incredibly thoughtful date night plan for Annie, you feel another piece of your heart tug loose, tied to a dream that passed while you were still asleep.

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Morning, Smiley,” Rocker greets you as you enter the station. “You’re taking the news well.”

“What news?” you ask.

Rocker shakes his head and points at your team. Save for Deacon, they’re all gathered in a small circle and talking quickly with small gestures.

“What happened?” you inquire as you stop between Luca and Tan.

“Deac and Annie broke up,” Hondo tells you, watching your reaction closely.

“Oh, sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Tan tells you. “From what little bit he shared, it sounded like it was his choice. They were growing apart, she wanted something else, I guess.”

You nod before they brainstorm a boys’ night to cheer him up. As you walk toward the locker room, your phone buzzes.

              I had a great time last night. See you Friday.

“Hey,” Deacon greets, drawing your attention from your date’s text.

“Hi,” you reply, turning off the phone without answering. “Hondo told me about you and Annie. I’m really sorry, Deacon.”

He shrugs before he raises his foot to the bench to tie his boot. It’s been several weeks since you talked, and your relationship has been strained since he first started dating Annie. Back then, you wanted to wait for him. Then you convince yourself he may never be ready, so you let yourself move on, grow in yourself, and feed other relationships.

As Deacon looks at you now, he wonders why he even started dating Annie. Something inside him convinced him that you’d never go out with him, that you were too good, too young, too close, just too far out of his reach. So, he let the idea go and tried to find the feeling he thought you’d provide in someone more like him. However, now that his relationship with Annie is over, he realizes he just used more valuable time that he can never find again. If he could find the words now, maybe he could change everything.

“How are you? Didn’t you go on a date a few weeks ago?” he asks instead.

“Yes,” you answer, looking in your locker rather than at him. “We’ve been on a few more dates, went out last night, actually. He’s an attorney. Really sweet, a good guy.”

“That’s good,” Deacon responds softly.

You look at Deacon, unsurprised to see he looks the same as he sounded, like he's missing something, lost an important piece of himself that he can’t replace. Part of you begs to be let out, to tell him that you waited for him, but a louder piece of Deacon makes him speak first.

“I hope it works out,” he says. “See you out there.”

Watching Deacon leave, you wonder why time has to be so cruel.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Hey,” Street, the newest member of your team, calls, “if I ever get sued-“

“What did you do?” you ask.

“Nothing! I swear. But if I ever do, could your boyfriend help me out? Represent me in court and turn it around on the other guy. I would be innocent, of course… mostly innocent.”

“I’m sure he’d help you, but, uh… we’re not together anymore.”

“I’m so sorry,” Street apologizes, his eyes widening. “No one told me.”

“It just happened,” you explain with a shrug. “Literally, five minutes ago in the parking lot.”

“Are you okay? Wait, don’t answer that, don’t move.”

Street turns and runs down the hall, sliding as he takes the corner too sharply. A moment later, he returns, steering Luca and Hondo toward you.

“I want to be on this team, but I wasn’t trained for this,” he tells them before he leaves again.

“What happened?” Hondo inquires.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you debate your answer. “I didn’t think I cared about this relationship,” you begin. Tears build in your eyes despite your long-withstanding feelings for Deacon, feelings stronger than anything you felt for your now ex. “But hearing him list my insecurities and treat my feelings like a closing argument wasn’t exactly enjoyable.”

Luca pulls you into his arms, wrapping you tightly in a protective hug. You grip his shirt and cry against his chest.

“Him dumping me isn’t even what hurt,” you say as you step back. “It was him calling me out for having a crush on Deacon that will never go anywhere.”

“Whoa, hey,” Hondo interrupts, placing his hand on your shoulder. “He was just mad because he thought you had feelings for someone that wasn’t him. Even if you do have those feelings, that was no reason for him to go off on you like that.”

“He was right,” you argue. “I didn’t start dating him as a distraction, but I compared everything he did to what I think someone else would do. Even though I know it’s hopeless, I’m holding on to the idea of something that will never happen!”

“Hey, are you okay?” Deacon asks as he enters the station, dropping his backpack at the sight of Luca and Hondo comforting you and the tears streaming down your face.

You wipe your cheeks with your hands and nod. “I’m okay, Deac. Thanks.”

Stepping around Luca, you rush away from the man you want but will never have. Everything you want in life, a relationship, and your future is inside Deacon. Yet you can’t talk to him right now without falling apart and telling him everything.

After you leave, Deacon sighs and rubs his hand against his jaw.

“You’ve been waiting for a chance since you left Annie,” Luca points out.

“Now’s that chance, my man,” Hondo finishes.

“I’m not going to go after her while she’s heartbroken,” Deacon replies. “She’s dealing with enough without me pushing my feelings onto her.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Hondo, we work together, we put our lives on the lines daily, and adding feelings to that won’t make anything better.”

“That doesn’t mean burying them won’t make it worse,” Hicks says.

Deacon turns quickly, surprised by the Commander’s intrusion. Hicks shrugs and lifts his mug, stirring creamer into his coffee.

“You’re talking in a public area, gentlemen, can’t expect privacy. Look, Deacon, the way I see it is that you’re angry you wasted so much time, so you’re looking for a way to prevent more time from slipping between your fingers. Yet, you’re so convinced by an insecurity or some perceived unspoken rule that you’re doing just that. Heartbreak doesn’t mean a heart isn’t ready to be given away again.”

“When did you get so wise?” Luca inquires.

“I’m the only one in this room that’s ever been married,” Hicks brags. “Figure it out or drop it, but the grip you’re holding now will give out and hurt more than just you in the fallout, Sergeant Kay.”

Deacon sighs, he knows that, and he’s known it since the very beginning. Every time he tries to let go, to move on, he sees you or catches a glimpse of the life you could have together and claws his way back to the idea, digging into it firmer and deeper than before.

“So?” Luca asks.

“Time to let it go,” Deacon announces.

As he leaves, Luca and Hondo shake their heads. It won’t be long before he’s back where he started. You will continue to dance around one another until you find the courage to say all those unspoken things or the music ends, and one of you is left to regret the time spent in silence and solitude.

TWO MONTHS LATER

“I love you,” Deacon tells you.

You smile as he pulls you close, letting his lips brush over your cheekbones before you reply, “I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

As you laugh, Deacon’s grip on your waist loosens. He looks down at you, and something akin to doubt flashes in his eyes.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have waited so long.”

You wake quickly, inhaling raggedly as you clutch a pillow against your chest. It’s time, you decide. Time to tell Deacon everything. You can explain that you’ve had feelings for him since before he started dating Annie, beg him to forgive you for wasting so much time with your ex, for letting the fear of doing the wrong thing and driving him away dictate you for so long.

Your alarm rings, and you cancel it immediately. As you prepare for the day, you rehearse what you could say in your head, but after you park at SWAT HQ, you decide that this needs to come from your heart, not your mind.

“Hondo!” you call as you jog into the station. “Where’s Deac?”

“Finishing a training session with 60 Squad,” he answers.

“I need to talk to him.”

“It might be a while. He’s meeting with Hicks and the Commissioner today; he wants to be considered for the next open leadership position in SWAT,” Luca tells you. “He’s dedicated, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him so committed to something.”

Your smile falls, and you suddenly feel like you’re full of lead, a stark contrast to the excited, bouncy feeling you entered with.

“Oh,” you murmur. “That’s great. What do you think his chances are?”

“Pretty great,” Hondo answers, watching Deacon lead the other on-duty SWAT team back into the training area. “He already got robbed of one promotion, but he’s proven that he can do it. I see no reason they’d pass him over.”

You nod, and this time, it’s Street who notices the longing look you wear as you watch Deacon give advice to the newer SWAT members. He pats your back and sends you a sad nod.

There’s nothing you can do; it’s never your time. Whenever you’re ready, Deacon isn’t. The few times he’s been single or acted remotely interested in more, you’ve been in a position that won’t allow it. You give Deacon another piece of your heart each time you miss one another. You’ll be completely heartless before time gives you another chance at this rate. The worst part is that you’re so blinded by your disappointment, so caught up in how you feel compared to what you can’t say or do, that you don’t notice Deacon is exchanging pieces of his heart for yours.

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Deac, we’re going to dinner then Jimbo’s,” Hondo says across the locker room. “You in?”

“Not tonight,” Deacon replies. “Thanks, but I’ll catch you next time?”

“That’s what you said the last four times!” Luca complains. “Are you sure?”

Deacon nods, and Hondo makes him promise before closing his locker and leading Luca, Tan, and Street out into the hallway to drive to dinner. You wave and tell them you’ll meet them there, but don’t move away from Deacon.

“What’s the new job?” you inquire.

Deacon looks surprised that you know about his second job but recovers quickly and says, “Private security.”

Nodding, you resist the urge to reach out to him. Over the last few days, it has taken every bit of your self-control to distance yourself from Deacon. You need more, and the craving becomes a monstrous pit inside you, a chasm threatening to pull you under until it’s all you know. All because you want Deacon, wholly and selfishly.

“Do you like it?” you ask, shifting to hold your hands behind your back.

“It’s fine,” he admits. “Maybe I’d like it more if I didn’t have to do it.”

“I didn’t think of that. No more overtime, no more OT pay.”

“Right. I was barely holding everything together before, but when that went into effect…” Deacon trails off and laughs humourlessly as he closes his locker. “At least it’s temporary.”

Unlike your feelings. “Listen, Deac, if you need anything-“

“We’re friends, I can’t ask you to do that,” he interrupts.

His words feel like a knife to your heart. You are friends, it’s true, but the recent strengthening of your feelings, the urge to walk into Deacon’s arms and never leave, gives his words an edge like a sword. It cuts through you, directly to the part of you that continues to love Deacon despite fearing that you’ll never know what it’s like to be loved by him.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you assure him quietly. “Goodnight, Deacon.”

He watches you leave, wondering how different life would be now if he’d told you everything when he had the chance.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Your desperation for Deacon has eased since the night in the locker room. You can look at him, carry a conversation, and accept his hand as you stand from the locker room bench with little more than a pang in your heart. Plus, overtime has been reinstated, Deacon’s money issues have become a thing of the past, and your team is stronger and closer than ever. Combined with other things, Deacon allows these good things to be a kind of omen, an encouragement that things are getting better, that the times you’re in now are better than those you came from. So, he stands between Hicks’ office and the locker room to wait for your return from a raid with 50-David Squad. You enter first, smiling as you remove your helmet and pick up your pace to greet Deacon.

The words are ready on his tongue, a proposition, a question that will change everything. Will you go out with me? Will you forgive me for all the nights I wasted, all the tears and unshared feelings, and give me a chance to show you that the wait only made me surer of you and what we could be?

But before he can ask, Hicks steps out of his office and calls your name. “Rocklin PD requested your temporary transfer to train and lead their new SWAT team. Talk it over with your team and let me know by the end of the day,” he explains.

Your eyes widen in shock, but you answer, “Yes, sir.” After shaking your head to clear it, you look at Deacon to ask, “What did you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing important,” Deacon lies, spurred by the opportunity you’re facing. He refuses to get in the way of your career and dreams – painfully unaware that your dreams consist almost exclusively of him. “Rocklin, that’s an honour.”

“Rocklin itself isn’t, but, yeah, that’s a great position,” you agree. “I don’t know, though.”

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving us,” Street laments as the rest of your team approaches. “You’re the only one that understands me.”

“That’s not a compliment,” Tan taunts.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit. “It’s an amazing offer, but I don’t have training experience.”

“Street’s better off because of you,” Tan points out.

“I agree,” Street says. “They’d be lucky to have you, but we’ll hate them forever for taking you from us.”

“You should go,” Deacon encourages.

You turn to face him, a crease between your brows that shows your combination of shock and disappointment. If Deacon had asked you to stay, you would have, without hesitation, but his encouragement to go, to live hundreds of miles from him for an unknown length of time rattles you. Maybe you misread everything, and he was going to tell you something you didn’t want to hear when you came in, and this is the perfect excuse for him to not have to tell you.

“We’ll support you no matter what,” Luca promises, but your eyes remain locked on Deacon’s.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “I’ll think it over and let you know. I’m going to change.”

You push between Street and Hondo, distracted and deaf to Hondo asking Deacon what he was thinking by pushing you away. You also fail to hear Deacon’s broken reply, “Because it’s better than anything I could have offered.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

When you walk into LAPD SWAT HQ for the first time in half a year with a new haircut and a noticeable glow, you draw attention. Street sees you first and abandons his sparring match with Rocker to jump out of the ring and greet you with a warm hug. Luca and Hondo follow soon after, and then you’re hidden beneath four teammates as they rock you back and forth and welcome you back.

“Did you knock those Rocklin officers into shape?” Hicks asks, smiling as he wraps his arm over your shoulders in half a hug.

“I did my best,” you answer. “They got lucky with a good set of recruits.”

“About your position on 20 Squad…”

Your smile drops as you look over at Hondo. He manages to hold his composure for about five seconds before he laughs, bending over because of amusement at the devastated look on your face.

“It’s still yours,” Hicks promises, tapping your shoulder. “We’ve been waiting for you to get back since the day you left, we can’t replace you!”

You place your hand over your heart and exhale, shaking your head as your smile returns. They’re still the team you know and love, except for…

“Where’s Deacon?” you ask.

Hondo looks at Hicks, who looks at Luca, who looks down at his shoes.

“He’s at lunch with Annie,” Tan tells you softly. “They’ve been trying to work things out for a few weeks.”

You nod. “I was worried he’d abandoned you guys without me here to keep some semblance of sanity.”

Hondo smiles, relieved you’re not too upset by hearing the news. Inside, you’re unsure where you stand, but there’s also a glimmer of hope in this. You’re back where you started: Deacon is with Annie, and you’re working on yourself. Maybe this full circle moment is exactly what you need to move on and stop letting Deacon control your every thought.

“What are you doing tonight, Street?” you ask.

“What I was born to do, ballin’ and shot callin’,” he jokes. “You want to join? My buddy Kel will be there, I think you’d like him.”

You feel Hondo’s eyes on you, but you ignore his questioning look as you agree, “I’d love to.”

Several hours later, a car parks against the curb before your house. It idles for about a minute, then the headlights turn off before the ignition silences. Deacon exits the driver’s seat and tosses his keys back and forth between his hands as he approaches your door. He hasn’t seen you since you left for Rocklin. After a meeting with Annie in which they decided that their relationship was hopeless and they were better off as friends, he knew he had to see you and explain his feelings.

Deacon knocks on your door, but there are no lights on inside. He texts you, but there’s no reply to that either. Torn between calling you or taking this as a sign and leaving, Deacon leans against your door and thinks. The last six months without you have been made up of some of the hardest days of his life. He misses you and has come to understand just how much he needs you, and now that he has a chance to see you again, you’re not home. Just like always. Every chance he has seems to end like this, and Deacon isn’t sure how much more time he can give it before he’ll have to walk away from you. He’s been hurt, and he’s seen you hurt, so he doesn’t want to put himself or you through any more than he has to.

You enjoy the company at dinner with Street and his friends, but your mind drifts back to Deacon every moment you get.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Street’s friend Kel asks.

“There’s too much at stake,” you answer, shrugging.

“It’s all at stake if you don’t tell him, too.”

“Don’t be so smart, you’re supposed to be Street’s friend,” you joke. “I’ve been thinking about that, but… I guess I’m just scared about what might happen.”

“But you’re terrified by what might not.”

You smile and set your drink down. “At that, I’m calling it a night.”

“No!” Street exclaims.

“I haven’t slept in my own bed in six months and now all I can think about is Deacon. Which actually isn’t that much different than usual. I’ll see you at work, but thanks for tonight.”

The following day, you’re running off pure adrenaline. You tossed and turned all night, your mind swimming with thoughts of Deacon and everything you want, and it all seems reachable now. Then, when you arrived at work, you were met with an unhinged crime spree that had you bouncing between SWAT teams, in and out of HQ all day. Altogether, it left you even more tired and willing to tell Deacon everything.

That’s why running into him in the parking lot after sundown makes you stop. Your barriers are gone, your walls have been obliterated, and you don’t think about any consequences as you ask, “What took so long?”

Undeterred by your blunt question, Deacon responds, “It was never our time. Because it had to be perfect, but it never was.”

“And it never can be.”

“I don’t believe that. Do you?”

“No!” you answer, tossing your arms up. “So why have we been dancing around each other for years?”

“We were scared, waiting for the perfect moment in a world of imperfect opportunities.”

“And now?” you ask with a sad chuckle.

“Now feels pretty perfect,” Deacon says, his smile growing as he moves toward you.

“You can forgive me for missing you so often?” you ask as you lay your hands on his shoulder while his hands find your waist.

“If you can forgive me for doing the same.”

You nod and meet Deacon in the middle, falling into a kiss that brings your worlds together in a beautiful collision. Your lives connect, finally meeting after years of running parallel to one another and getting close enough to imagine what this would feel like. It’s the perfect product of every moment, every missed opportunity, and fear as you prove to one another that there’s love, admiration, and joy in your relationship. And this is only the beginning.

“Why’d you come to my house last night?” you ask as you pull back.

“How’d you know about that?” Deacon counters, raising his brows.

“Street took my phone, told me about the text during the Hollywood call this morning. I’m sorry I missed you.”

“It was the end of an era.”

You roll your eyes and kiss Deacon before he can make another comment about how it was somehow always but never your time until you took the leap and accepted the imperfect.

The door behind you opens then closes, and Hondo yells for the rest of your team when he sees you kissing Deacon. Finally.

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ But It's Better If You Do ♡

♡ Pairing: rockstar!mingi! x chubby!fem!!tattoo artist!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/sorta suggestive

♡ Summary: Your ongoing love affair with your rocker client is all fine and dandy until you begin to catch feelings for him that send you into a spiral that isn't fine nor dandy.

♡ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: drinking, getting tattoos, kissing, briefly reminiscing on getting some top-notch dick, pet names (baby), reader gets turned on by Mingi (because, like, who wouldn't?), I like to say "fuck", & that's about it

♡ A/N: I've combined my neverending weakness for rock musicians, Song Min Gi, and happy endings into one fic and my lil alt girl heart is happy. I hope yours will be too. I may or may not have a thing for turning bad boy Mingi into a simp for reader but, like...ssssh.

It drives you insane when your friends tease you about Mingi, asking what city he’s in now and when you’ll see him next. You don’t know what city he’s in. That’s a lie, you always know. And you have no plans on seeing him ever again. Another lie. You’d stop the world to see him for 5 minutes. From the moment he walked into your shop, seeking an impulsive late-night tattoo, you were doomed to fall for him.

The first time he stopped by your shop it was a little after midnight and you were ready to close up but you were starstruck, you’ll die before you ever admit that, and he was gorgeous so you let him in. His choppy hair was a total mess and his dark eyeliner had all but melted off, the remnants smudged like ash beneath volcanic eyes that engulfed you each time they gleamed in your direction. You did the tattoo, an old-school traditional dagger down his left rib snuck in amongst the other 30 or so tattoos crowded onto his chest.

He paid you 3 times your normal rate and was supposed to be on his way. But you knew from his shows and his offstage antics that he wasn’t one to do anything he was supposed to. Armed with a pretty face framed by the softest cheeks and a plump figure he just wanted to nibble at, he instantly developed a weakness for you. Mingi had to have you and he did. All night. Reclined in your tattoo chair, bent over your workstation, cuddled up on the couch in the lobby. In the darkness of your studio, sweat-slicked bodies reflecting the glow of the neon lights like puddles of rain, he took you every way he could.

And you gave. And you gave. And you gave. Being with him altered everything you thought you knew about desire. About pleasure. Mingi touched you in ways you never imagined someone could. He made you feel beautiful. Worshiped you with his tongue from head to toe until the sun rose. Once it did he was gone, off to some other city. To some other girl in some other tattoo shop no doubt. So you moved on, filing it away as a one-time thing. Only it wasn’t. Mingi came to see you every chance he could.

Even if he was a few cities over he made sure to come by for another tattoo and another night with you. But these passionate encounters, concealed by the shadows of late nights and early mornings, planted feelings in your heart that bloomed long after he left. Your body was beginning to confuse lust for love, or so you believed, and that could only hurt you both. You especially. It had to stop. No more. Never again. 

Your tattoo gun buzzes in your hand, a bundle of needles punching delicate black lines into Mingi’s neck. Never again? Yeah right. This time he wants a death moth on the side of his neck. It’s beautiful, as all your work is, and nearly done. Something he’s thankful for because this hurts like fuck but pissed about because being straddled by you on the couch has always been the preferable position for him. Your thighs double in thickness when they’re spread around him. He can just zone out rubbing and squeezing them.

“Hey!” you squeak when he takes a particularly greedy handful of your ass, “Cut it out or I’m gonna fuck up your tattoo.” Mingi takes a deep breath, his toned chest flexing as his muscles contract. “You won’t fuck it up. You’re too good at what you do. That’s why I come to you.” “Oh, really? Is that the only reason?” He grins and you can feel him staring at you the way he always does before your clothes end up on the floor. It makes your palms sweaty and your panties wetter than they already were. “You know that’s not the only reason, baby.”

Mingi sinks his fingers into your pillowy flesh, leaning forward to kiss you with not a care in the world about it ruining his tattoo. His lips brush yours, heightening the warmth between your thighs and making your heart change rhythm to match him. You want him on you. In you. You need him. Love him. Love him. Love him? “You need to go,” you say, your voice shaking as you flick off the tattoo gun. You’re off of him in a split second, packing your things away.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something?“ He tails you in your mad dash around the shop, sick at the thought that he might’ve made you uncomfortable. “I can’t—you just have to go, Mingi.” Snatching his t-shirt from the front counter, you toss it at him without looking. You can’t bear to make eye contact. “Did I hurt you?” You unintentionally ignore him, too lost in the tsunami of repressed emotions wrecking your insides. Mingi takes you by the wrist, pulling you close to him before you can get away from him.

“Did I hurt you?” “You didn’t hurt me, okay? But if you stay you will.” Mingi’s hands cradle your face, his mind frantically scanning it for some sign of what’s going on inside your head. “Whatever I did to scare you…I’ll leave but I’d never intentionally hurt you” he swears, “I love you too much for that.” You’re both equally shocked at the words that leave his lips. You weren’t expecting to hear them and, though he means it beyond measure, he wasn’t expecting to it to slip out.

“No, no you don’t. You don’t” you mumble, backing away from him, “You’re just saying that to—” “To fuck you?” he scoffs, in slight disbelief of what you’re implying. “I don’t know” you shrug, “It’s why you sneak off here at 1am to see me isn’t it?” Mingi throws his shirt on, grabbing his leather jacket off of your workstation. “I’ve asked you on dates. I’ve invited you to dinner with my friends. I send you backstage passes to my shows and you never come.”

“I’m trying to be more to you. I just wish you’d let me in” he sighs, stopping to plant a tender kiss on your trembling mouth, “Goodnight.” You're frozen in place, your feet sinking into the checkered tile floors like quicksand, as you watch him walk out of the door. A little voice in the back of your head whispers that he’s right. You have been pushing him away, playfully brushing off his proposals because they must have been a joke. He’s him…a star...and you? You’re just you.

Ignoring the tears clouding your vision, you flop down in a chair and begin scrolling through the texts the two of you exchanged over the past week. You stop at a message sent 2 days ago, your heart stinging at the sight of a link for a backstage pass for both nights of his show. It reads: "It’d be nice to see you. Would love it if you came.” You could take the chance, gamble with your heart—you close out of the thread, swiping to delete it—but it’s better if you don’t.

The roar of the crowd. The cacophony of instruments, harsh vocals, and borderline destruction laid out by the opening band. The chaos going on backstage to resolve last-minute disasters while his barely sober friends bullshit in the green room. The pure insanity of it all usually has Mingi wired but tonight he’s numb to everything. He leans back in his chair, checking his phone notifications. Nothing. At least not from you. He takes another sip of the beer he’s been taking child-sized swigs from for the past hour. It takes like piss, he doesn’t even like beer, but he has to calm his friends’ suspicions that something’s wrong by at least pretending he’s joining in on things.

“Party's here!” Yunho screams, bursting into the green room full of energy. Mingi perks up when he enters, the arrival of his best friend calming his anxiety. Yunho has no problem taking the social spotlight when Mingi isn’t all here and tonight he’s definitely somewhere far away. Yunho spots Mingi seated in the corner, staring into the mirror as he falls endlessly down some mental hole. “Still haven’t heard from her?” he asks, throwing his arm over Mingi’s shoulder. “No. I wanna call her, you know, but…I don’t know.”

Yunho snatches Mingi’s beer, chugging the remainder of it before tossing the bottle in the corner. “Listen to me, you forget her. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Actually, I brought a pretty fresh one for you tonight.” His face painted with a mischievous grin, Yunho slinks back over to the door to retrieve his surprise. Mingi rolls his eyes, his head thrown back in agony, “Yunho, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this, man. I don’t wanna meet any fucking groupies.”

“I resent being called a ‘fucking groupie’” you pout, sneaking up beside him with the stealth of a secret agent. Mingi turns his head, squinting at the inverted image of you, “You—what are you doing here?” Your smile is awkward and endearing as you nervously fiddle with the lace trim of your black dress. “I’m letting you in...if it’s not too late.” By the way he hops up from his chair, his arms around your waist and his tongue down your throat in an instant, you already know the answer. But it still makes your head spin when he pulls away to say, “It’s not too late. It could never be.”

The head of a heavily pierced girl peeks through the door, her bubblegum pink hair swept into a high ponytail. “2 minutes til stage. Let's go!” she shouts like a drill sergeant and all of the men fall in line, rushing to get Mingi out on time. Yunho does what he can to put some distance between Mingi and everyone else, "He's coming! He's coming! Don't tear my man apart!" Mingi struggles to keep hold of you as what seems like a million hands pull him in the other direction.

“Just go. I’ll be watching so kick some ass, okay? For me!” "For you." You grab him by the shirt, sneaking in one last kiss, “Love you.” “1 minute til stage!” the girl’s voice booms once more. The tide sweeps him away until you can’t see him anymore but you still manage to hear a very excited “Love you too!” in that deep, raspy voice of his. You follow the herd, finding a spot off to the side just as he takes the stage.

Watching him perform, smiling at each other so hard your cheeks ache every chance you can, gets you high enough that you might as well be watching him from a cloud. When rips his shirt off, tossing it into the crowd, he reveals a chest covered in tattoos made with ink laced with silent admissions of your love. Only now they aren't silent. They're louder than every instrument on that stage. Because you're confident now that when it comes to taking a chance on love…on him…it’s so much better if you do.

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter TWO.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, gojo being gojo, cringe contact names. || sfw. 2.6k words. all teams made up (only using cities without real NBA teams). also, i know #6 is a retired jersey number, but it's gojo. so #6 is his.

YOU WERE RIGHT.

You’re always right, and Fushiguro looks your way knowingly when the Sorcerers land third seed in the playoffs two and a half weeks after the Fangs game. A few murmurs spread throughout the team as Kusakabe pulls the bracket up on the screen in the team’s common room, Yaga pacing in front of it with his hands clasped together.

It’s not the third seed that’s the topic of discussion, though.

It’s the first. In both conferences.

“I know,” Yaga starts, “you’re all off your rockers about San Diego. Here’s what I’m gonna tell you: don’t fuckin’ think about San Diego.”

A tall order, not to think about the Curses.

Gojo, sprawled on the couch with Fushiguro on one side and Yuji on the other, groans. He’s wearing a pair of dark, rounded sunglasses indoors, because he’s an idiot who wears sunglasses indoors.

Yaga snaps his fingers and Gojo shuts up. You so, so desperately wish you had that superpower.

“We don’t get to the finals and the Curses don’t even matter, you understand me?” Yaga barks. "You don't think about them 'til you win twelve games minimum. And that's if you're dreaming. We aren't sweeping all the way to championships." Yuta nods solemnly. Ino cracks his knuckles like he’s ready to fight his way up the bracket. Fushiguro doesn’t even blink.

"And are we thinking about the Samurai?" Hakari asks, and Yaga glares at him.

"Again. We don't make it to conference finals, that doesn't matter."

"Yes, sir," Hakari mutters quietly.

Yaga starts laying out the game plan for the first round match against Manhattan, set to be played at home April 15. It’s a Saturday. You think, idly, that maybe you should have chosen a job where you actually have weekends off.

The Sorcerers will probably sweep. Manhattan's sixth seed. Sat against the wall with your laptop propped on a chair and your clipboard in hand, you start jotting down names, emails, people to call to set up press for the team and the coaches, Manhattan's manager to make sure their accommodations are set up. Oh, and you need to set up travel and lodging for the Sorcerers, too, when they play in Manhattan for games three and four. You think they’ll win four straight, but you should have a contingency plan anyway just in case the series goes to game five, or even further. You already know Zenin and Panda are set to commentate again, at least on your home network, which is good—they’ve always been fair, and fair commentary doesn’t create unnecessary issues with the press. You’ll have to look into the usual Manhattan commentators.

You’re so focused on your work that you don’t even notice that the meeting has adjourned until someone plucks your pen from your hand. You protest and look up to see Gojo grinning at you, twirling the pen in his ridiculously large hand and smiling like he’s done you a favor.

“Don’t work so hard,” he says playfully. “You’ll drive yourself into the ground, and then who’ll I steal my pens from?”

“What do you even need pens for?” You scoff and snatch it out of his hand, shoving it into your pocket before he gets any ideas. “If I don’t work so hard, you don’t get press interviews or sponsors or lucrative Nike merchandise lines. Careful what you wish for.”

“So serious,” Gojo chides, leaning against the wall and effectively blocking your view of the rest of the team leaving the room.

“Gojo—”

“Ah! She knows my name!” he crows victoriously, and you groan, raking a hand through your hair. This man is going to be the death of you.

“You’re gonna be late to training,” you say flatly. You know, because you scheduled the gym space. Because you schedule everything. Because you essentially run all of the details of Gojo’s life, and he and the team would be lost without you, and they know this. But Satoru Gojo has no discipline or regard for anyone else’s effort, so here he is, lingering. “Did you need something, or are you just wasting both of our time?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his head down at you. You find yourself shifting under his gaze, uncomfortably attentive, his eyes always catching you off guard. Even standing, he’s got more than a foot on you, and though you’re used to being towered over, sometimes you wish you could be the one to look down on Gojo, put him in his place.

“I just—I was gonna tell you you were right.” He clears his throat. “About the seed, I mean. Sorry to doubt you, Miss Manager.”

And strangely, despite his ever-present smirk, he sounds almost… chastened. Apologetic isn’t the right word, but the corners of his lips are turned down just slightly, his tone of voice a little more subdued than usual.

“But you already know that,” he says. “So. I’ll stop, uh, wasting your time.” He tips a nonexistent hat at you, winking over his sunglasses before taking his leave.

It’s the weirdest phenomenon—not Gojo turning his back to you and walking away, but you feeling almost sorry as he does it. Part of you wants to call after him, tell him you didn’t mean to be so harsh, but that’s not necessarily true. You did want to be harsh. You just… might have taken it too far, this time.

But it’s his fault for being careless. Late to practice, careless about the work that keeps his career on track. A buzzing pulls you from your reverie and you spin toward the noise, confused until you locate the phone going off on the couch cushions where Gojo sat only minutes before.

In theory, the phone could be Fushiguro’s or Itadori’s, but the case is bright blue. You’ve never known Megumi Fushiguro to have color anywhere on his person unless absolutely necessary, and you know for a fact that Yuji’s phone case has a cat on it.

When you get closer, you see the outline of the Nike swoosh with the Limitless print laid over it. Of course Gojo would wear his own merch. Jesus.

“Irresponsible,” you mutter as you walk over to it, plopping down on the couch and sighing as the notifications swarm Gojo’s lock screen.

gumi: you coming?? gumi: if you need a minute i can cover for you gumi: you seemed off. one of those days?

The first thing that strikes you is the name. Gumi? The team uses first names often enough, but this isn’t a nickname you’ve ever heard for Megumi. Not in public, at least.

captain kento (derogatory): Fushiguro said you had to take care of something. I’ll fill you in on the drills we ran later. Take care.

You frown.

You seemed off. Did he? Gojo seemed just as obnoxious as ever to you. And it’s not as though this is your doing—even if he’d seemed downtrodden after your conversation, the rest of the team had already gone.

The screen lights up with a new message.

gumi: call me when you can

You slam the phone face-down on the cushion beside you, suddenly feeling like you’ve been intruding. It wasn’t your fault, you reason. He’s the one who left it here.

As another incessant buzzing starts up, you jump, and it takes you a moment to realize it’s your own phone this time with an incoming call. You don’t recognize the number, but you know 212 is a Manhattan area code. It’s the Phantoms manager, responding to your earlier email.

You answer and press the phone to your ear, grabbing Gojo’s as you stand and cross the room to the mess of jackets the team left along the wall. You find the one with the blue 6 embroidered on the sleeve and tuck Gojo’s cell into the pocket, then retreat to your office as the Phantoms manager exchanges pleasantries.

Whatever those texts were about isn’t your business, or your problem. You have work to do.

—

You don't see much of Gojo in the week leading up to the playoff game.

You’ve been so wrapped up in work, in hectic travel and games and organizing everything with Manhattan and the press and the coaches and the sponsors, in planning all of Gojo’s appearances, that you haven’t really realized he hasn’t made many appearances of his own lately.

You’ve seen him around, sure, but he hasn’t cornered you or stolen your pen or teased you the way he’s so prone to. It’s almost unsettling, this sudden absence of his antics.

Almost.

Unfortunately, you have to seek him out now, because Nike wants to renew their contract, and you need Gojo’s signature.

“If you want my autograph so bad, you can just ask, y’know,” he says with a shit-eating grin when you finally find him, talking to Fushiguro near the gym doors.

Gumi, your mind supplies unhelpfully. He raises a brow when your gaze lingers on him a second too long, and you quickly turn back to Gojo and shove the clipboard into his hands. God, he does have really big hands. No wonder he can palm a basketball and make it from past the three-point line.

“I want your cooperation,” you correct, raising a brow. “Unless you don’t want the Limitless line anymore?”

Gojo scribbles his name on the paper with a new urgency. You smirk.

“So, how’re you feeling?” you ask, and though you’re looking at Fushiguro, you know Gojo will answer too, because he’s Gojo.

“Just wonderful, now that the great Alley-oop has graced us with her presence,” Gojo says, handing the clipboard back, and you roll your eyes at the nickname. Someone clears their throat at the doors to the gym and Gojo turns to see Kento.

“Gojo,” Kento says. “A word? I want to go over the new screen one more time.”

Gojo grins at you. “Don’t wait up.” And then he’s off with Kento, and you’re left with Fushiguro, who’s looking at you strangely.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you point out.

And he still doesn’t. Instead, he sighs, leaning back against the wall, like he’s considering something.

“He’s not a bad guy, y’know,” he finally says, leveling you with that even stare only Megumi can pull off. You click the pen closed (because Gojo didn’t, because he never does) and slip it into your pocket.

“I didn’t say—”

“I know,” he cuts you off. “And I also know you don’t like him. And I get it. But listen. Gojo is cocky and annoying and loud. But he’s also a good guy, when it comes down to it. You know why he left the Curses, don’t you?”

You blink. “Uh. Yeah?” You were there, after all.

After the first few years of your career in management, you’d honestly considered leaving. Maybe you should have tried harder in college, followed some of your D1 teammates to the WNBA.

The Curses were intolerable—stuck up, presumptuous. Your first year actually hadn’t been so bad, but after Gojo left, it was like Suguru Geto became a whole different person. He was brash and rude and commanding, and the whole team suffered for it, and you honestly thanked god when your contract was up. You were about take a huge pay cut for a WNBA job in the Midwest, just to get away, when Yaga reached out.

The Sorcerers aren’t like that. They’re nice to you, appreciative; they include you like you’re an actual, valued team member. You get to work with Ieiri, you’re compensated well, and you have more autonomy under Yaga and the team owners than you ever did with San Diego.

You figure Gojo just takes the environment for granted. Or at least, you did, but Megumi’s looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what you know, and you suddenly aren’t sure you know anything at all.

“He got into that fight with Geto,” you say slowly. “And then he said if the Curses didn’t trade him he’d break contract and just—quit.” You called it a hissy fit when you explained it to your friends. They’d fought like teenage boys, right there on the practice court, shoving and shouting.

“You know that’s when I was getting drafted?” Megumi asks. You frown. You didn’t really put the timeline together, but it makes sense. “Suguru Geto essentially blacklisted me from the Curses. Said he’d make my life a living hell if they recruited me.”

“What?” You’re floored, scrambling for words you can’t find. “Why? Why the hell would he do that?”

Megumi shrugs. “Didn’t want to share his best friend, I guess. Felt threatened? I don’t know. But Gojo wouldn’t stand for it. He, uh. Knew me before, and so did Geto. He’s known me for a long time, actually.” He scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. “Apparently, they got into some huge fight over it. Over—me, I guess. And Gojo said if Geto was so hellbent on not drafting me, he’d go somewhere that would.”

You’re stunned straight into silence. You thought their fight was about superficial shit, or fighting for their shared position as centers. Not about a person. Not about Megumi Fushiguro.

“Fushiguro!” someone shouts, and he pushes off the wall and gives you another one of those looks. You can’t entirely decipher what it means, but there are suddenly so many thoughts fighting for dominance in your mind you don’t know what to do with them.

Fuck.

You shake your head like you can dispel all the cognitive dissonance with the motion, and then you sigh and turn down the hall with the intention of finding Ieiri.

But the woman who rounds the corner and nearly smacks right into you isn’t Ieiri. It’s the new marketing and media coordinator, and suddenly you’re cursing yourself out because you can’t remember her name. She grins at you.

“Oh, hey!” She sticks out a hand and you take it. She’s younger, probably around Yuji’s age, and a recent hire. “Kugisaki. Uh, Nobara, if you want.”

“Nobara.” You smile, glad that she reintroduced herself, and give her your name again in turn. “You’ve met all the guys? Liking the job so far?”

“Yeah! They’re great. And I think we’re gonna have a lot of good video ops during playoffs.” She glances at her watch. “I’ll probably try to catch some of them on the sidelines after.”

You snort, thinking of Gojo and his affinity for being on camera. “That won’t be a problem,” you assure her. “You seen Ieiri anywhere?”

“Shoko?” Nobara tilts her head. “Yeah, she’s in the training room.”

You wish Nobara good luck with her sideline interviews and head back to Ieiri’s home base, where you find her leaving the room with her med bag. “Why do you look like someone kicked a cat?”

“I do not,” you grumble, but she’s always been able to see right through you. She walks in step with you toward the gym, side-eyeing you until you give in. “It’s just—you’ve known Gojo for a while, right?”

Ieiri hums in confirmation and you find yourself tapping your fingers against the clipboard. “I just—do you think I’m too hard on him?”

“On Gojo?” she snorts. “Nobody’s hard enough on Gojo.” But when you don’t respond, she registers your levity and sighs. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s obnoxious. He’s a little shit. But he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, bitter. “That’s what everyone seems to be saying.” An assistant passing you and Ieiri presses headsets into your hands, and you thank him absentmindedly and loop them around your neck.

Ieiri doesn’t press the matter, and you have no more time to. The team runs past you into the gym, a few of them patting you on the back or high-fiving you as they go. Gojo hollers something at Kento as he runs through the doors with his arms spread wide, greeting the raucous cheers of a packed gym once again.

“I need a smoke,” Ieiri mutters, and yeah, that sounds real damn nice.

“Well, we get what we get,” you sigh, and pull on the headset.

Zenin is already spewing both teams’ season records at full speed, Panda chiming in with more player-specific notes.

“And here come our visitors, the Manhattan Phantoms in full force!” she announces. “Buckle up, folks. It’s time for playoffs!”

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo

[charlesf1leclerc]

KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS

Warnings: cuteness, babies, poorly edited 

Summary: Just a quick post about some of Indy Jules first moments

First tooth

It has been a good 5 months since the birth of Indy Jules. It had been utter bliss she was the sweetest and calmest baby anyone has ever met. She was always smiley and babbling away at nothing. She was definitely the picture of Charles in every single way. She was just utterly perfect. 

But recently she has been a lot more fussy, abnormally fussy for your Indy. You and Charles don’t know what to do at this point. You were currently home alone as Charles was away for another race weekend and Indy was fussing like crazy. You had FaceTimed Charles multiple times but you had no idea what to do and neither did Charles.

You were feeling so hopeless that you could think of a way to soothe your daughter. So you decided that calling Pascale would be your best bet at this point even though you felt ashamed you couldn’t help your daughter yourself. 

“ how long as this been happening hun?” She asked over the phone

“ a few days, I just don’t know what to do anymore?” you replied hopelessly 

“ well this may be Indy teething” Your mother In law stated

“ Isn’t it a-bit to early she’s only 5 months so you really think she’s getting teeth this early?” You were so scared of time slipping away from you and your baby girl growing up to fast

“ here why don’t you get the pad of your finger and run it along her guys and see if you can feel anything”

“ alright give me a minute” I picked up Indy from her rocker and did as Pascale said and just like she predicted you could feel the top of a tooth poking through the top of her gums.

“ your right there’s a tooth coming through, what do i do she must be in so much pain” “ well do you have any of those tethers?” 

“ yea I got some from my baby shower”

“ give her one of them, and place some in the freezer they work better frozen, she may be fussy but she’s going to be ok hun you have nothing to worry about”

“ thank you so much for your help Pascale I really mean it” I thanked sympathetically

“ anytime you know that”

As we hung up the phone I did as Pascale instructed before texting Charles about the situation 

Y/n

I just got off the phone with your mum turns out our daughter is teething. I’m giving her her teether she’s fussy but she will be ok. Xx

Charlie ❤️

She’s teething already and I’m missing it!

Y/n

Charles it’s only teething the tooth hasn’t come fully through yet anyway it’s not like your missing her first steps

Charles ❤️

Don’t remind me, she’s growing way to fast. 

Y/n 

I know. We miss you

Charles ❤️

I miss you too. Keep me posted on how my girls are doing all the time. Xx

Y/n

Of course you know we will. Xx

First word

Indy Jules was now 1 year old. 1 year she was getting so big it was hard to think that she has been apart of your life for one year. 

Charles and you had been trying to get her to talk for months, she’s been a very babbley baby so you thought she would have said a word by now.

Charles and you had both been trying to get her to either day dads or mama. There was no real fight as neither of you truly cared which one she said first as long as she said something.

You and Charles were sat up in bed Charles had laid Indy on the bed after she had woken up and was currently blowing raspberries on her bare stomach. You sat next to him looking over to him occasionally while also reading your book.

“ you like that, you think daddy’s funny” Charles spoke to the baby in-front of him

“ daddy” Indy spoke

Both your heads shot up

“ what did she just say?” You inquired 

“ I think…. I think she said daddy”

“Come on baby say it again daddy, daddy” Charles encouraged

“ daddy” Indy squeaked lifting her feet up and placing on of them in her mouth.

“Omg Charles she said daddy” you spoke with tears in your eyes.

“She’s growing up way to fast but that’s the cutest thing ever” Charles wrapped his arms around you before picking the baby up from the bed and planting kisses all over her chubby cheeks.

First steps 

14 months that’s how old Indy was now. She was now speaking more words then ever and still a clam baby but now with a little crazy as she was crawling all around. You both believed that she would be walking any day now as she had tried standing up multiple times. 

You and Charles were seated in the living room of your town home both siting on your knees across from one another. As Charles held Indy’s hands as she stood on her feet.

“ ok walk to mamma come on baby you can do it” Charles encouraged pushing her forward a little.

He slowly slept to of her hands and left her standing for a second before she slowly wobbled to fall to the floor

“ oh it’s ok baby” I said as I picked her up standing her back up again “ go on walk to daddy, you know you want to”

Charles held his hands out wiggling his fingers 

Slowly just like Charles did before you let go of her hands but this time instead of wobbling she took a step forward and then on more before tumbling to the floor.

“ YES BABY aww you did it you took your first steps” Charles squeaked picking her up and spinning her around in the air as she giggled

You watched in admiration before standing up to be at the level of Charles.

“ I’m so proud of you baby” you spoke storming her head now full of hair

“ aww my brave girl, your getting too big” Charles laughed

———————————————————————

Tysm for reading I hope you enjoyed! Pls feel free to leave requests for this story in my inbox or any little messages you have you can leave in my request inbox as well xxx

[mollywog]

Thinking about one of my favorite (and possibly under appreciated) moments from Catching Fire…

“May we ask where you’ve been, Miss Everdeen?” the woman asks.

“Easier to ask where I haven’t been,” I say with a sound of exasperation. I cross into the kitchen, forcing myself to use my foot normally even though every step is excruciating. I pass between the Peacekeepers and make it to the table all right. I fling my bag down and turn to Prim, who’s standing stiffly by the hearth. Haymitch and Peeta are there as well, sitting in a pair of matching rockers, playing a game of chess. Were they here by chance or “invited” by the Peacekeepers? Either way, I’m glad to see them.

“So where haven’t you been?” says Haymitch in a bored voice.

Prim nervous-> a natural response to the situation vs. Haymitch and Peeta -> the picture of nonchalance

“Well, I haven’t been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim’s goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as to where he lives,” I say to Prim emphatically.

This is so brilliant. Katniss bought the damn goat. Of course she knows where the goat man lives - or at least where he does business. But this excuse gives her a reasonable explanation for being gone AND a reason why she doesn’t have an alibi. If she actually said she saw him, the peacekeepers could check and find out that she lied.

“No, I didn’t,” says Prim. “I told you exactly.”

“You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine,” I say.

“The east entrance,” Prim corrects me.

“You distinctly said the west, because then I said, ‘Next to the slag heap?’ and you said, ‘Yeah,’ ” I say.

“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.

It’s also great because it takes Prim’s mind off the danger of the situation. Instead she’s busy arguing about the correct directions she gave her sister.

“No. When did you say that?” I demand.

“Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.

“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I’m sorry, but it’s what I’ve been saying. You don’t listen when people talk to you.”

“Bet people told you he didn’t live there today and you didn’t listen again,” says Haymitch.

The strategist and the actor know the best way to get a good performance out of Katniss is to nettle her.

“Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he’s right.

Being miffed at Haymitch doesn’t even require acting- it’s their natural dynamic

Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile.

They’ve all succeeded in putting Prim at ease (at least a little)

“Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they’ve made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them.

I look at the Peacekeepers. The man’s smiling but the woman is unconvinced. “What’s in the bag?” she asks sharply.

I would be entertained. It’s a live episode of everyone’s favorite sitcom: The Victors of District 12

I know she’s hoping for game or wild plants. Something that clearly condemns me. I dump the contents on the table. “See for yourself.”

This moment has to be so satisfying for Katniss.

“Oh, good,” says my mother, examining the cloth. “We’re running low on bandages.”

Peeta comes to the table and opens the candy bag. “Ooh, peppermints,” he says, popping one in his mouth.

“They’re mine.” I take a swipe for the bag. He tosses it to Haymitch, who stuffs a fistful of sweets in his mouth before passing the bag to a giggling Prim. “None of you deserves candy!” I say.

I can’t get over how adorable they all are together- even if it just for show.

“What, because we’re right?” Peeta wraps his arms around me. I give a small yelp of pain as my tailbone objects. I try to turn it into a sound of indignation, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I’m hurt. “Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we’re all idiots. How’s that?”

Their wordless communication gets me everytime. The strategy immediately shifts from playful to placating. Get the peacekeepers out of here so Katniss’s wounds can be tended.

“Better,” I say, and accept his kiss. Then I look at the Peacekeepers as if I’m suddenly remembering they’re there. “You have a message for me?”

Oops forgot you were there - what a touch.

“From Head Peacekeeper Thread,” says the woman. “He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day.”

“Didn’t it already?” I ask, a little too innocently.

I can just imagine Haymitch growling, “don’t push your luck”

“He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your cousin,” says the woman.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him. I’m sure we’ll all sleep a little more soundly now that security has addressed that lapse.” I’m pushing things, I know it, but the comment gives me a sense of satisfaction.

She cannot help herself and I am here for it.

The woman’s jaw tightens. None of this has gone as planned, but she has no further orders. She gives me a curt nod and leaves, the man trailing in her wake. When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.

“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.

“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.

My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”

“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.

I know they’re all putting on a performance, but are they really acting? It’s all feels so in character for them to be teasing and laughing with each other. I just like to picture an alternate universe where this scene played out similarly but without the injury and audience

[ktkellart]

Good Omens London Trip 🐍💞🪽

It's my Birthday today and I treated myself to a trip to London last weekend to see my favourite actor Michael Sheen in Nye at the National Theatre. I made the most of my weekend by combining it with a Good Omens filming location self-tour and I'd love to share it with you all. So, are you ready for the tour?

Here we go!

Starting off with Soho, and the inspiration for Whickber Street, where Aziraphale's bookshop, Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, The Small Back Room, and the Dirty Donkey are located.

It’s Berwick Street and a record shop that is very similar in shape to A.Z Fell & Co. Bonus points for spotting Duck Lane!

Next is Berkeley Square, a short walk from Soho. The first two photos are of the real Berkeley Square gardens in Mayfair, and the last two photos were taken in the filming location of Tavistock Square across the other side of central London near Kings Cross. I’m sitting on their ‘body swap’ bench in the last photo!

As you can see, the benches are turned around facing inwards now but are the other way, facing outwards in Good Omens.

Oh, and I can confirm that there were no nightingales singing in either location 😭

Heading up the road a few minutes from Tavistock Square to The Enterprise pub where I met a fellow fan who kindly took photos of me posing (I bet the staff thought we were off our rockers!). This is where Crowley drowns his sorrows in Talisker Whisky whilst waiting for the world to end after thinking he'd lost Aziraphale. Omg that poor poor demon, he was really just gonna die along with the world.

Also, one of my favourite moments of season 1 is Crolwey's line: "I heard that. It was the wiggle-on..." then shrugs. 😆 So many emotions in such short a time.

Onto the Ritz. The first two photos are of the real Ritz (a stone's throw from Berkeley Square) and the last one is inside Masala Zone in Piccadilly Circus where the ‘Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol’ and ‘To the World’ scenes were filmed.

I ate in here alone to get the photo and was so lucky with the table I was given! Perfect discreet snap whilst eating my curry! Haha!

Next up is Battersea Park and the Bandstand. It was a bit of a faff to get there, it's an 8-minute walk from the Battersea Power Station underground and we walked the full length of the park to find the Bandstand, but it was so worth it.

Also filmed here was Gabriel and Aziraphale’s run/jog. Poor Angel is soft scene.

The trees were a little leafier with it being mid-May and the park was very busy because the weather was glorious. They also have a beautiful lake here with herons!

The Heaven & Hell staircase escalators are right over the east side of London in Broadgate Tower, Bishopsgate. I got the overground to Liverpool Street station to get there. It is in a private business building so I politely/awkwardly asked the receptionist if I could take a photo and had to explain about the scene from Good Omens… eek! But he kindly let me snap a photo anyway! (Phew)

The Windmill Theatre was three minutes away from my hotel in Piccadilly Circus, so I wandered up the road to take a photo of where Aziraphale ‘performed on the West End stage’ as Fell the Marvelous. And wasn’t he just?

The scenes weren't filmed here but it was fun to find it anyway.

St James’s Park is up next! I sat on their bench and got my friend to take photos of me posing and had fun editing the first photo. Haha! We enjoyed walking through the park, watching the ducks on the lake and had a nosey at Buckingham Palace while we were there.

The Duke of York Statue steps are at the other end of St James's Park and were fun to walk up. I smiled to myself as I thought of the scene where Crowley says ‘Well let's have lunch? Hmm,’ and Aziraphale turns around, as it was the first time I realised that these two were more than just friends.

Heaven’s top floor, the Sky Garden in Fenchurch Street near Monument is a very tall building with a botanical garden on the top floor. You can visit the sky garden for free, but you do need to book in advance so it’s best to plan ahead for this one. The views of London are breathtaking from the 35th floor and the tropical plants are fun.

My last stop for this visit was Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. I booked a tour on the morning I was due to go home. The first tour is 10 am and lasts an hour, so I dashed off as soon as the tour guide was uttering his last words about the gift shop, across London back to Kings Cross to pick up my suitcase from luggage storage and get the 11:48 am train home!

One I missed and could have easily gone to is St Margaret Street where Newton and Shadwell meet, and Shadwell fleeces Newton for a cup of tea with nine sugars and pockets the change. A bit gutted I missed it to be honest – I love Jack Whitehall (I’m back in London with the family in June so I’ll swing by and update then!)

There are also some other locations a little further afield that I might try to visit on a later date, such as Shadwell's and Madam Tracy's flat down Hornsey Road in Islington, Crowley's Flat exterior in Eastfields Avenue, Best Cafe on Garratt Lane where Crowley meets Shadwell, Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park where the ineffable husbands watch Warlock defacing a dinosaur sign and Antonella's Cafe and Bistro where Crowley and Aziraphale are thinking of ideas to track down the antichrist whist Aziraphale eats cake.

Okay, I’m gonna finish up with the man himself. The very kind, very charming, and VERY patient Michael Sheen The reason for my London visit in the first place. Nye was spectacular OBviOUsLy, but he was super generous with his time at stage door for us all. I got a hug and asked him to pass it on to Aziraphale (that angel really needs a hug) and it made him laugh, which made my night!

Check out my reblog for extra locations when I visited London again a month later, and for a hilarious bonus photo of.... Gabriel??!

Here’s the wonderful map I used -

from this website:

[earl-grey-teacake]

so how are we feeling after that news.

I am not sure how I feel about everything since I just keep finding out more stuff and it makes me feel worse and worse. I’m sad, and upset, and it feels like a tinge of grief. Not for my own dreams or aspirations but for Logan’s. That being said, I will continues writing my Baby!Loscar AU and I will continue/ start my other Loscar fics. I feel like it is a tough time and I hope to make it a little bit lighter.

I think my biggest feeling is overall disdain and disgust for how Williams went about this. My biggest issue is the whole situation being portrayed as “Williams is a business, this was a business decision. No emotion here” Businesses are not faceless entities, they are teams of people. It’s why teams put a lot of effort in PR and companies invest so much in HR. They are comprised of people and we as spectators and fans also play a role in the business that is Williams. Fandoms are profitable, fan content keeps people engaged, and those who are engaged spend money. This decision has shot William’s PR and whatever goodwill they managed to achieve last year. Logan is a martyr in the eyes of fans and James Vowles has come off as a deranged man. For the past month, any comments to the media are either of him passive-aggressively calling Logan a failure or thirsting after Carlos in a way that makes me want to call HR.

This decision isn’t even a money decision either. They talk about the upgrades, and need for points but are putting their faith in a driver that is clearly being brought up from F2 too early. They are taking risks that genuinely make no sense to me and I am afraid it may damage this new rookie’s confidence on top of it.

I cannot tell if James Vowles is doing this because he wants to live a bit wild before Carlos comes, has a vendetta against Logan, or he is just off his rockers.

I am happy Logan is out of there though and wherever he goes, I go. I hope he goes to Indycar. This is not me seeing Indycar as so lesser sport where unsuccessful F1 drivers should go it. I have great admiration for Indycar and genuinely enjoy watching it more than F1. My wish for Logan to go to Indycar is for the general vibe and how friendly everyone is and for the fact that I live 3 hours away from a track and will absolutely take PTO to see Logan race.

Personal feelings are below if anyone wants to read them.

I got into F1 last year around September but really dove into it around the beginning of November. Logan was someone who never really stood out to me in the beginning but I began to notice him more and more around October and November and I couldn’t help but sympathize for him. I remember how anxious I was waiting for him to be re-signed and the relief I felt when it happened.

I wanted him to do well and succeed so desperately and as it became more and more apparent that James and Williams, were doing, I became a bigger and bigger fan of him. I know I’ve mentioned it briefly on here before but near the end of last year and the first half of this year, I was dealing with a toxic workplace and an abusive supervisor. As the months went on, the treatment towards me got worse and worse and so did Williams’s treatment of Logan. Our workplace started to mirror each other.

The remarks, the veiled threats, the passive-aggressive comments that points to the same message “you’re under-performing, you’re not good enough”. Most of all, the expectation to practically perform miracles with tools and equipment that was vastly behind the rest of the field. I know very well how heavy and oppressive the work environment must have been. I can’t imagine how awful it must have been to have to be doing it everyday, to have to perform for the public like everything is fine, and take the abuse from James, from journalists and commentators, and social media. I was already breaking under my supervisors treatment of me, I definitely would have snapped in Logan’s shoes. However, while my supervisor got kicked out of their position, Logan was the one who got kicked off the team. I do hope he takes the summer to enjoy himself and heal.

I feel so bad for him and I’m so upset at how I didn’t know this was his last race. I had Abu Dhabi planned out thinking that was going to be Logan’s last and now I’m just a bit crushed.

[voltronisanobsession]

You know what, I’m going to warn you from now, you’re going to get a lot of Percy x reader requests form me (not that I can blame myself) so without further ado… Can I request a Percy x Melinoe!reader?

Everyone knows how Nico is the ghost king, but can you imagine Percy meeting and falling head over heels for a daughter of Melinoe? She may as well be a living ghost queen because of her control over ghosts.

I imagine she shows her love for him in strange ways since regular lovers give each other flowers and chocolate, what the reader does? She shows up in his nightmares and battles off any monsters giving him trouble. She also did something weird for Valentine’s Day, but I’ll leave that up to your imagination 😉

Maybe she even has magic, to smaller extent to the Hecate cabin? (Blame Hades II and my love for magic for that idea), I don’t know, I can just see her having a lot of tricks up her sleeves.

(I’m sorry for making this so long.)

Percy with a Child of Melinoe

I’m always ready for these Percy jackson requests, keep them coming😻😻😻 you literally be dropping the most COOLEST REQUEST LIKE DDAAMMMNNN I LOVE UR BRAIN

Also I’m so SORRY it’s super long, always write too much but I can’t help it😭😭 for some reason I need to have some loose story when writing anything😭😭😭

Ok so I headcanon any child related to any underworld gods/goddesses usually have like dark eyebags, so Percy meeting Reader for the first time kinda freaks him out. A lot.

Reader just emerges from the darkness of the forest with shadowy figures following close behind, bro really believes that his soul was chosen to be reaped because the way they would look at him with dead eyes LMAO💀💀

But you were just walking around. In the dark. Lowkey talking to yourself until you saw Percy

I think Percy would find reader very odd at first, considering all the other people he’s met

Their dark eyebags and dull appearing skin makes them look like a walking corpse, and the way that they would just be lurking in the shadows, kinda talking to themselves would make him raise an eyebrow

But he didn’t know that you were just talking to the ghosts surrounding you, all of them yapping about ‘unfinished business’ they have

Reader would often be seen around camp looking a bit jittery, almost like they’re hiding from something but you’re just trying to avoid the ghosts that won’t leave you alone

“Shh shh, fine I’ll help you Jonathan. But later, people are looking at me again. Now leave me alone, oh gods Percy is walking over, leave leave!”

Since no one can seem these ghosts reader can see, Percy genuinely thinks you’re just off your rockers

Until you reveal how you’re mother is Melinoe, goddess of ghosts (he would be confused at first since he probably had no idea who that was💀💔)

OMG WAIT

Imagine Melinoe!Reader can like allow people to see ghosts if they’re touching them in some way!!! So to show the poor boy that you’re not crazy, your cold ass hands touch his arm and BOOM! Percy cannot believe all these ghosts just SURROUNDING reader

After that the rest is history

They both would grow so much closer since Reader finally chooses to fully trust in Percy as he accepted them and all their weird and scary abilities!!

Percy starts tagging along with reader when they go to take ghosts to the underworld, though Hades isn’t happy to see him most of the time

“It’s fine uncle, Percy’s just helping me.”

“How can he help you if he can’t even see the ghosts grabbing him?”

“Wait they’re grabbing me?!”

“He’s messing with you Percy.”

Reader and Nico would also be pretty close too

Since they’re able to summon ghosts, Nico sometimes asks if he can see Bianca, and they all sort of just have random get togethers in the middle of the night

Family reunions we love ‘em😍😍

Nico and Reader also shadow travel together whenever he needs someone to talk to

Melinoe!Reader would be a BIG gift giver, but they aren’t the most conventional gifts 💀

While some would gift flowers or plushies, reader would probably give him like wilted flowers and trinkets they claim would ward off unwanted spirits, and maybe even an authentic dreamcatcher too!!!!

Reader might even give him bones of small dead animals, which he accepts with a grimace on his face

“Wow ok! Um where did you find these exactly haha!”

“Oh you know, I was walking around the forest and began finding these small bones! Then I went further and found larger ones and then even larger ones! I would’ve taken one but it was too heavy, so you get the small ones.”

He would keep them in a glass jar that’s next to his bed though because it’s the thought that counts <3

He would also bring you SHELLS he finds whenever he’s by the the beach, sometimes even going to deeper waters to find the prettiest ones for your own collection🐚

Percy definitely carries a bag so you and him could put bones and shells in it to take home if you’re out of camp

I also would think that sleeping around reader would give anyone in their vicinity nightmares so they usually appear in Percy’s dreams to fight off any nightmarish monsters

At first he thinks he’s going crazy that he keeps seeing you in his nightmares until you explain that you can travel through dreams, hence why you’re basically in his brain now

Totally normal😁

AND FOR THAT VALENTINES DAY THOUGHT

I think Reader would think a good idea date for both of them would try summoning some kind of powerful ghost during the night for fun😭

Like at first Percy thought it was a cute picnic date and was like aww they’re so cute🥰 until he sees the ritual circle and is like what😀

He’s like super worried that your soul is gonna get possessed or something so he just keeps holding your hands to keep you grounded to the living world while you continue chanting and smiling

This dude can’t catch a break with you

During battles is when everyone around experiences what readers true power and magic is

While they may appear weird on the outside, them summoning ghost after ghost and making them solid life forms sends shivers and chills throughout every living persons body

It’s a really unsettling feeling tbh

So while Nico can summon the undead, you’re able to summon ghosts which makes you guys the perfect duo when fighting together

And they’re able to make their opponent hear the whispering voices of the ghosts around them which usually drives the fear factor up by a LOT

They could also sap any energy in their opponents body but they need to be touching the person which involves fighting in close range

I think Reader could also possibly drag out the soul of a living persons body, but it’s a theory since they haven’t fully tried going through with it

Also random thought but Melinoe!Reader loves going underwater with Percy because it’s the one place ghosts can’t follow them

So it’s just like, they can finally breath and not have a million voices demanding things from them

Percy is just super happy to help them in way he can

Plus it means he gets to spend more one on one time with you without having to worry about any ghosts watching their every move

Reader and Percy have matching rings that ward off any evil and vengeful ghosts

OH ANOTHER THOUGHT TO FINISH THIS OFF

Readers hands are super cold and I like to think Percy’s hands are super warm, so whenever they hold hands it’s like a clash that they both like

And when they hold hands, Percy is able to the world through Readers eyes

Which means that Percy kinda bullies the ghosts into leaving Reader alone for a while and getting some kind of privacy💀😻😻

Percy is super in love with this reader despite the unsettling vibes they can sometimes radiate

Reader is just happily digging up more bones to add to Percy’s growing collection :D