#some of the works from these prompts end up rly good so

[sorikkung]

one of these days when i actually have the executive function to write im gonna do a kinktober challenge with actually deranged prompts and half of them will be piss. god bless

[luneariann]

DTIYS RESULTS!

Honestly this was super hard to decide 😭😭 I ended up adding more honorable mentions slots and I’m still tempted to add more cuz you all did rly rly amazing! I wanna thank all of you for participating this was a super fun experience, now, with that said...

In first place we have @carrotkicks with their absolutely stunning piece! :)

I fell head over heels for the composition its really really unique and it works wonderfully! Their colors were gorgeous and very well balanced, they rly took the prompt and made it their own and it worked wonders :)!

In second place we have @j11nko with this absolute banger of an art piece!

OOO where do i even start, the lighting i think takes the cake here, completely made it look like they were bathed in gold, made the ambiance of it rly rly stand out, Cins coloring style has a way to make things rly look more vibrant and it showed especially clearly here :)!

In third place we have @afraid-of-the-deep-sea with this piece that had me staring for a solid ten minutes straight

His use of texture and the symbolism was SPECTACULAR are you SEEING THIS IM SICKKK, once again a VERY unique piece that rly took ownership of the prompt, absolutely stunning, the colors were wonderfully vibrant and the whole thing has a way of sticking to you, amazing job

In fourth place we have @maractius with this beautiful piece right here

ARE YOU SEEING THAT USE OF COLORS OUGHH, the coloring and rendering is insanely good, and their expressions are soso strong, literally obsessed w this, the way theres not a single stretch of canvas that isn't occupied in some way without making it look cluttered is rly rly interesting and well done, and the subtle shift in perspective is just the final detail that makes this an insanely good piece

And finally in fifth place we have @candiedfright ! With this absolutely lovely piece

Ouuu this is so pretty 😭😭 the way they arranged the piece gave it a rly strong sense of depth, which in turn makes this piece feel like something ripped straight out of a movie, the way they handled shading only adding to it, SUCH a gorgeous job they did amazing

Now! Onto Honorable Mentions! :)

In honorable mentions we have @tedlebred s stunning piece

Are you seeing that RENDERING OMIFHE obsessed, i love the way they implemented the flower details in their hair and their decision on the change of the setting, turning the prompt into a photograph and making the text into part of that new setting was a super clever choice that rly made their piece stand out :)

We also have @spiderbends with this rly wonderfully soft piece!

The change in pose was so fun and so well done, that coupled with the change in expressions to ones much softer completely changes the vibe of the prompt and turns into something you could almost call playful! Taking the text from something confrontational to something teasing, rly rly lovely job!

Up next we have @seukorei with this lovely piece!

Once again we have a change in pose that works beautifully to change the tone of the prompt, the shading and the colors chosen give this piece an almost melancholic atmosphere that manages to also be incredibly soft, truly wonderful job once again :)

And for our final honorable mention we have @lotus-pear ! With this pretty number

THE POSEE, ouuu you guys r killing me w these pose changes! The new closeness of the two characters gives it a much more intimate vibe, coupled w their expressions it does a lovely job at emitting a sense of trust and comfortability between them thats just rly beautiful to see! Rly love job

Aaaand that abt wraps things up! I wanted to add more honorable mentions but i already added more than i was intending to 💔💔 choosing at all was rly rly hard

I wanna thank everyone once again for participating this was truly a rly nice experience and you guys did an amazing job! :)!!

[butchcarmy]

silly little idea i have in my brain where you’ve got carmen on his back, both of you giggling and gently teasing each other before you hop on to ride him. you lean down and kiss at his chest and he’s just smirking, letting you have your fun until your tongue brushes against one of his nipples. the moan he lets out could only be described as surprised, almost like it was punched out of him, like he didn’t expect it to feel that good. his face goes beet red and he’s blinking in shock

just,..idk carmen might have sensitive nipples who knows

Anon I’m sorry for the wait! I SO agree. I kept looking back at this ask and being like😳Anyway tbh I already had some stuff like this in the works but I rly wanted to write with this prompt, so here’s this. Enjoy!

Word count: ~800

Tags: explicit MDNI🔞, subby carmy, nipple play, slight overstimulation at the end

You didn’t know Carmy’s nipples were so sensitive until today.

It was just a playful little thing, a gentle flick of your tongue against the smooth surface of his soft nipple. However, the sound he failed to stifle was nothing small. The moan that came out of him was abrupt, like it appeared out of nowhere.

Carmy’s face has gone bright red now, evidently shocked by his own reaction. His mouth keeps opening as if to say something, but he can’t get the words out.

So naturally, you lick his nipple again, slower this time, and Carmy sucks in a sharp, deep breath.

“I didn’t know your nipples were so sensitive,” you murmur, your fingers thumbing back and forth over his nipples, hardening them.

“I, I didn’t either,” Carmy pants. His cock weeps between the two of you, dripping pre cum onto his stomach. You were going to ride him, but this is suddenly more important. You don’t even think you’ll need to ride him anymore, not when he’s reacting like this.

“Really? Even when your shirts are always rubbing up on them?” You don’t mean for that question to be as sexual but it is, but his nipples are reddening and swelling as your fingers pinch at them, and Carmy’s moans are making you drip.

“It’s not—sometimes, I mean, it’s a little—“ You can tell that this whole thing is embarrassing him, but he’s too turned on to shy away. He can’t even bring himself to say it.

“Just didn’t wanna admit it, then.” You suck one of his erect nipples into your mouth, wrapping your lips tightly around it, and he moans loudly. You release it with a wet pop, and it comes out shiny. You suck at the other one, too, leaving both of his nipples swollen and glossy with spit. “Y’think you could come with just me touching your nipples?”

“Shut up, I don’t know, maybe,” Carmy groans, back arching and chest pushing towards your mouth and hands. You glance down at his nearly untouched cock to see it still dripping. Your aching pussy still wants to sit on it, feel it come inside you when you make him finish with just his nipples. Not tonight, though. You wanna see him make a mess of himself.

“Come on, Carmy. I wanna see you come.” You suddenly pinch both of his nipples with your index and thumbs and tug, and the sound he makes has your clit throbbing. It’s as if you’re deep throating his cock with the noises he keeps making. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, shit,” he admits, rolling his head back. “So close—“

You have a feeling you know what he needs. You’re eager to see him finish, so you decide not to make him beg for it this time.

You pull one of his swollen pink nipples into your mouth again, flattening it under the flat of your tongue before sucking it between your lips. While your hand tugs at his other nipple, you suck rhythmically, cheeks hollowing. You hear Carmy’s ruined moans right from his chest. He can’t form words anymore.

“Fuck me,” Carmy cries, and he writhes as he comes deeply all over himself.

You lick his nipples as he comes onto his stomach, streaking his skin and hairs with white. You feel a glob of wetness leak from your pussy from listening to his moans. You never expected him to react so well to having his chest touch. Not to say you never thought about it…just not like this.

Experimentally, you give his nipple a little bite, just barely tugging with your teeth, and Carmy’s moans spike in volume instantly.

“Too much,” he whimpers. Although you would never push him like that, the thought of biting more at his nipples and making him scream does pass through you. It rushes heat into your stomach. But you know this isn’t the time for that, and you roll back into gently lapping at his wet nipple instead.

Even then, he eventually just pushes your head back with his hands, overstimulated and beautiful. His curly hair’s a mess from how he was pressing his head against the head board. His warm skin has this gorgeous flush to it, and his half lidded eyes are staring at you in a haze.

“That was so hot,” you say with a grin. His eyes crinkle in a smile, and he shakes his head as he laughs under his breath.

“I didn’t know I could…come with just that,” he mumbles, clearly bashful. “It was…wow.”

“If I had known earlier, I would’ve gotten these in my mouth way sooner.” You give his chest a solid squeeze, and that makes him laugh again, but it’s a bit breathless.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi :)

Can I ask for smut with Lesso and female reader? Reader is over 25 and in a relationship with Lesso. They use magic in bed for greater pleasure and this time reader wants to try and use the spell on herself. Leo guides her through it and she manages to create magical pen!s but isn't sure if it'll work properly. Lesso says it's only one way to find out and starts riding her. When they are both close Reader cums inside Lesso. A couple of weeks later Lesso finds out she's pregnant and says to the reader: 'do you remember our last spell in bed? You did so good with it that it got me pregnant.' Reader thinks she's joking and doesn't believe her at first till Leo shows her pregnancy test and leaves the reader speechless 😶.

Idk if it's sth you'd like to write. If not just pls don't ignore it and give me a sign it's not for you but I would be rly thrilled if you did write it. Thank you :)

Enchanted Choices with Unforeseen Consequences ~Leonora Lesso xFem Wife!Reader

Summary— Leonora and Reader have some fun with an enchanted g!p, and it leads to some unforeseen consequences… Anon Response— Hey hey anon!! Thank you for the request, and thank you for your patience. I would love to write this! Hope you Enjoy ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, lost of fluff too, enchanted penis, dick riding, little teasing, happy crying, happy endings, etc.

Enjoy (;

“I… I don’t know if it will work though…” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat and admiring the magical dick that Lesso had helped you make.

“Only one way to find out…” Leonora teasingly purred.

Lesso then straddled you, swiftly sitting down and taking your new dick into her cunt entirely in one fell swoop.

“Holy fuck—Leo!!” You groaned, your mouth falling open.

“Shiiiiiiiit Mmmmmmm—” Lesso groaned, “You’re bigger than I anticipated, Baby…”

That made you smirk, and in response you jerked your hips up. This made Leonora groan even louder, which quickly turned into a growl.

Her signature smirk returned to her face, as she placed her hands on your shoulders and began to thoroughly ride you. With zero mercy.

You cried and groaned and moaned, but Lesso wouldn’t relent. She rode you like there was no tomorrow, milked you for everything you were worth.

And before you can say anything, you’re cumming, shooting your magical cum deep inside Lesso. The woman on top of you groans loudly, cumming along side you. She smirks, panting heavily, as you go limp inside her.

“Fuck Leo…” you pant out, chuckling lightly.

The redhead is gleaming back at you, very proud of how flustered and undone you had become.

A couple of weeks past. And Lesso has been feeling a little sick. It was the fall season, so the woman had nursed it off as a seasonal cold.

But it only got worse. Leonora found herself throwing up on the regular. And she felt intense heat waves along with that. As well as intense food cravings at random times. It was the most bizarre thing.

Lesso thought it was crazy to think that she could be pregnant, but that’s what it felt like… And it would make sense as to when you and her had magically created you that dick. So she took a pregnancy test… and it was positive.

How was she going to tell you??

Leonora knew that she had to tell you, so after classes one day, while you were both lounging in your private quarters, she decided it was a better time than never.

“Baby, you remember that magical cock we made you a couple weeks ago?” Lesso hummed, continuing to grade as if what she was saying was nothing.

You looked up from the book you were reading.

“Yea…?” You said, slightly confused.

Now Leonora looked up. Her face was a myriad of emotions, that you were having trouble reading.

“Well turns out, you did so well that it got me pregnant, Baby…” Leonora breathed out.

Lesso picked up the positive pregnancy test from inside her desk drawer, waving it around for you to see.

Your jaw dropped. And you started to laugh.

“I—what?” You stammered in between giggles.

“I’m. pregnant.” Leonora said slowly and clearly.

Your eyes widening as you tried to process the woman’s words. You said nothing after that, instead you just stood up and walked towards Leonora. She handed you the test and you stared at it, your eyes starting to water.

Lesso immediately stood up and took you into an embrace as you started to cry tears of happiness.

“I— I can’t believe it…” you stammered, “I’ve always… wanted to be a mom—”

You sniffled in between your thought as Leonora kissed the tears away from your cheeks.

“I just didn’t expect it… this moment.” You breathed out, a big smile coming across your face.

Leonora hugged you tightly.

“I have no doubt, you’ll be an amazing mother, Baby…” she comforted you.

You hugged her back with just as much fervor.

“Right back at ya, Leo” you murmured into the crook of her neck.

~~~

Leonora Lesso Masterlist

[vodika-vibes]

Heyoo!

I have a request, it’s a bit of a long gif so if ya don’t get to it or don’t wanna do it, it’s fine lol.

Anyways, my idea / request / prompt / Echo x Fem!Reader goes like this, kinda, feel free to take liberties

Echo, now I feel like he would be a nervous kinda guy when it comes to having a crush. Like, he just doesn’t know what to say and overthinks absolutely everything, and can’t rly take a hint. Before he got blown up, there was a girl, who he has a liiiitle crush on n such, (idk you can make her a mechanic, doctor, bartender, whatever idm)

And they were rly good “friends” n such r something, aaaand some time after he joins TBB he visits the old place where he used to reside with the other guys in the domino squad (I forget where *sob*) And she’s is surprisingly still there. Heartfelt angsty ?kinda? Maybe reunion yadayadaydada and a bit after that and after catching up, probably a day or two later they pick up hints that they like each other and eventually confess n StUfF, aaand ya, then he has to go back with TBB and they be sad, he invites her to join but she is hesitant, and bc the other squad members don’t even know her she ends up saying no- aaaaand ya-

( 💀 omg i don’t even know anymore )

Idk it’s a very weird prompt, I’m making this up as I go, so feel free to pick and choose, take or add, whatever u wanna do

Again if u don’t wanna do it that is perfectly fine, just a thought. Love your work! <33

I Dream Of Forever

Summary: Summary: You’ve been a bartender on Rishi since you were old enough to take orders correctly. Echo was a Clone Trooper turned ARC Trooper stationed on Rishi who was a little more than friends with you. You legitimately believe he’s dead. But when a group of clones land on Rishi, you come face to face with the man you hoped would be your forever.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2201

Warnings: Some suggestive moments, but nothing detailed

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I thing I got the general vibe you want, but if I didn't please let me know and I'll do something else.

You’ve been a bartender at the same bar on Rishi since you were ten years old. Your parents had debts to the bar owner, and they sold you to make up for it. Well, you and your siblings.

You’re the lucky one.

Your…owner? Guardian? Whatever he is, he treats you like a beloved granddaughter. He buys you clothes and food and allows you to go to school…and until you reached the age of majority at 18, you only had to work four hours a night four days a week. 

He even paid for you to go to college, and he pays you well enough that you have your own home here on Rishi.

You’re lucky.

Your older brother, you know, ended up becoming a gladiator in the Outer Rim, and last you heard he’s an enforcer for the Hutt Cartel. Your older sister, however, became a drug runner for a Spice Cartel and last you heard she’s moving from rehab center to rehab center.

You’re lucky.

Maybe if you repeat it often enough, you’ll believe it.

All things considered, Rishi isn’t the worst place to spend your life. The area you live in is warm and bright and right on the water. Not to mention you’ve got several friends here that you would miss if you left…or if the Empire decides to actually deal with the pirate problem.

You’re not worried though.

The Republic’s war with the Separatists barely touched Rishi afterall, aside from having a single watch station that has been abandoned for years now.

And you don’t expect that the Empire will push too much.

Your gaze drifts from the food stall that you’re visiting, lingering on the small, almost overgrown, old Republic comm station. Once upon there had been five men stationed there. Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup, Fives, and Echo.

While you had some concerns as to how the pirates of Rishi would react to obvious soldiers spending time in their bars…people were surprisingly okay with them. More than one of them getting an offer to join different crews.

A small smile lifts your lips at the memory of your boys laughingly turning down offers of pirate crew memberships.

The Dominos had been Rishi’s, more so than the Republics, and people raged when they heard that they died.

First when Droidbait and Cutup died, and then later when they heard that Hevy was killed on Kamino. And then even later when Echo was blown up, and then Fives was killed-

Fives’ death was kind of the final straw for Rishi. 

Even now, the Pirates of Rishi are more than happy to raid imperial vessels, in honor of their Dominos.

You step around a group of Mercs, all of whom have dominoes tattooed on their hands, and start to meander your way back to your home. You miss them. All of them.

But, if you’re going to be honest, you probably miss Echo the most.

He was a lot like his brothers, loud and boisterous, and always ready with a joke or a quip, or to finish a joke that his twin set up. He was always the first to greet you with a grin, and the last to say goodbye at the end of the night.

But, unlike his brothers, he flirted with you a little shyly, as though he wasn’t sure what he was doing.

It was charming and sweet, and you found yourself smitten with him. 

He didn’t, quite, get over his shyness with you even after the first time you invited him into your home with tempting kisses. He was still a little shy even after the tenth time you invited him into your home, and your bed, with teasing touches and adoring kisses.

You wanted forever with him, and you thought, hoped, that he wanted the same.

And then he left, and you never heard from him again.

You suppose, in a way, it makes sense. Why would a soldier want to slum it with a bartender who’s technically a slave.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

After all, you still dream of forever with Echo. Only now, your dreams are definitely castles in the air.

After all, dead men don’t get happily ever afters.

“We need to land somewhere,” Tech says to his brothers, a frown on his face, “The damage to the ship is…far too severe for me to repair without landing.”

“Where can we land, though?” Wrecker asks, “It’s not like there are a large number of places that will accept us.”

Echo eyes the star map speculatively, “I…may have an idea.” He offers, as his gaze lands on a specific planet. A bright smile dances across your memory, and a loving laugh echoes in his ears.

He’s a kriffing fool.

Hopefully she won’t turn him away.

“Well?” Hunter prompts when Echo doesn’t continue right away.

“I think we should go to Rishi.” Echo says slowly.

“Rishi!” Tech sputters.

“That’s a pirate planet, Echo.” Hunter says, “They won’t react well-”

“Do you have a better idea?” Echo asks.

The room falls silent for a moment, and then Tech sighs, “It is up to you, Hunter. Rishi is the closest planet we can land on.”

Hunter pushes his hand through his hair, “Fine. Do it.”

An hour later, the Marauder lands on an open pad, and no one comes to the ship to speak to them. “Is this…normal?” Tech asks.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Echo replies with a shrug, “We should probably not wear our armor here,” He adds. He’s already changed into civilian attire, and he’s somewhat anxiously rubbing his arm just over where his scomp is attached. 

“Why?”

“Because our armor screams ‘clones’ and I’m not sure how the pirates will react to seeing clones now.” Echo replies dryly, “I’ve heard rumors of Rishi based Pirates raiding Republic and Imperial transports lately.”

Hunter agrees that it’s a reasonable precaution, and they all hurriedly change into civilian attire, before they get off the ship, with Omega clinging to Wrecker’s hand. And then, almost as one, they turn to Echo.

Echo sighs and rubs the back of his head, and then he turns and heads deeper into the city.

Some things have changed, new people, new stalls, but most everything else is the same. He pauses in front of a specific bar, and peers in, his dark eyes scanning the faces of the bartenders for a moment, before he motions for his brothers to follow him some more.

“Are you lookin’ for someone?” Wrecker asks.

“Yeah. Someone who, hopefully, won’t be too angry at me and will be willing to help.” Echo says.

“A friend?” Omega asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Echo leads them away from the shops and docks, and over to a row of apartments. He scans the buildings for a moment, before he turns and heads to one of the smaller buildings, and he stops in front of a plain door, with flower boxes in the windows.

His lips curl up in a small smile, Fives made those flower boxes early one morning when he was hyped up on Caf. They were crooked and lopsided, but it looks like she kept them. Though it looks like she painted them. “Wait here.” Echo says to his siblings, before he walks over to the door, and he knocks twice.

“Just a moment!” Her voice comes from the other side of the door, and Echo doesn’t fight his smile.

She sounds exactly the same. 

Stars, please don’t let her be too mad.

The door slides open, “Yes? Can I help yo-” She stops mid-sentence when she sees who’s standing there, “...Echo?”

“You grew your hair out,” Echo replies, a small smile lifting his lips, “It looks good. You look amazing. I’m sure you have a question or twenty, cyar’ika-”

Echo’s not able to finish his sentence as she flings her arms around him and crashes her lips against his. His arms fold tightly around her and he immediately kisses her back, and it’s almost as if no time has passed at all. 

If he focuses, he can almost hear Fives wolf-whistling and hear Cutup making lewd comments.

And then reality snaps back into place when he hears Tech’s dry voice, “Ah. That kind of friend.”

Echo carefully pulls back, and reaches up to gently cup her cheek, using his thumb to brush a tear away, “I’m sorry for not comming you, cyar’ika.”

She shakes her head, “We were told that you died.” She whispers, “Fives said…” She trailed off, “And then Fives died, and, kriff, the death of the last Domino started a war between the pirates of Rishi and the Republic/Empire, why would you bring them here?”

“Our ship is damaged-” Echo started.

“Get in. In. All of you!” She drags Echo into her home, and she doesn’t shut the door until Hunter is in the apartment as well. “Honestly Echo,” She rounds on him, “If you commed I would have told you to go literally anywhere else.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.” Echo replies.

There are pictures of her with Echo, and with the rest of the dominoes on the walls. There are also pictures of her with a large, scarred man. And of her with a too slender woman.

“What do you need? I can probably get most of the materials sent to your ship.” She says.

“I have a list.” Tech offers as he hands her his datapad.

She copies it and sends the list to several of her friends, “Alright, you should have most, if not all, of what you need by the morning.”

“Are we in danger here?”

“On Rishi specifically? No. Not so long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.” She replies, “I’d offer to let you spend the night, but I don’t have much room.”

“We can stay on the ship,” Tech replies.

“Echo, are you going to stay here?” Omega asks.

Echo doesn’t take his gaze off of his cyar’ika, “If I’m allowed?”

“I’ve never turned you away before.” She counters.

Echo smiles at her, “Do you remember the way back to the docks?”

“I remember.” Tech says, “Come on.”

The door opens, and then closes again, leaving Echo alone with his cyar’ika.

She smiles at him, soft and warm and slow, “You used to be shyer about public displays of affection.”

“I used to have legs and two hands too,” Echo replies, it's a weak joke, but a joke all the same. “I’m so sorry I never commed you.” He says after a moment, “I thought…it felt cruel, reaching out to you when I couldn’t actually touch you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Echo. I forgive you.” She walks over to him and she kisses him as if no time has passed at all, all loving and soft and sweet.

She’s always been unfairly tempting. Her lips and her touch encourage him to stay and enjoy what she’s offering. And Echo has always been helpless to deny her. 

He’s not surprised when he falls into her bed, her lips needy against his.

Later, much later, they’re lounging in her bed, and Echo is trailing his lips across her bare shoulder.

“Cyar’ika,” He murmurs against her shoulder, “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?” She asks, her voice light and dreamy.

“On the Marauder. Away from Rishi. I’ll protect you-”

She turns and looks at him, her smile so sad, “You know I can’t.”

“You deserve so much better than being a slave for your parents' debts,” Echo whispers.

She rolls so that she’s facing him properly, “Echo, your brothers don’t know me. And if I had to guess, your ship is pretty small. Me going with you isn’t fair to them.”

“You deserve more.” Echo repeats.

“I don’t like life is about what we deserve,” She replies, as she reaches up to cup his face, “So, in the morning, you’re going to return to your ship, to your brothers…and you’re going to leave Rishi. And you’re going to go back to not comming me, and it’s just how it’s going to be.”

“No.”

“Echo.” She sighs his name, and he shifts so he’s looking right in her eyes.

“No.” He repeats, “I’ve given up so much. My body, my batchmates, my twin. I’m not giving you up. Let me be greedy. Just about this one thing.”

She sighs again, but she looks touched. “How about…a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“My contract with my…owner is coming to an end. At the end of the year, I’ll have made enough to pay off my parents' tab with him.” She says softly, “On that day, I will comm you and come to where you are. No matter where you might be.”

“Do you promise?”

She laughs softly, “Echo, I’ve been dreaming of forever with you since the first day we met. Now that I have the chance to have it, it would take an act of god to stop me.”

Echo crashes his lips against hers, “I want forever too,” He breathes against her lips, “So we have a deal.”

She smiles at him, “I love you, Echo.”

He blinks at her, momentarily surprised, and then he laughs and kisses her deeply, “I love you too.”

[rosepetalkitty]

Hi Rose! A friend introduced me to you. I love your voice. Do you have any tips on voice training or voice acting in general?

oh hi omg ^-^ that's so cool!

on voice training: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (i never did any, all i can really give ya is to try talking from the roof of your mouth instead of from your throat if that makes sense? idk. i found my voice like a week before i started recording audios and it was kinda just "i wonder if i could try to... ah. neat.")

on voice acting in general:

you don't need a crazy expensive mic or software. here's my recording setup:

blue yeti (imo the best USB mic available, plus it does a great job with stereo, and it isn't ridiculously expensive)

reaper (it will harass you about paying for it, you should but if you can't afford it you can just click through the prompt, and also it's wayyyy cheaper than smth like fl studio) — you can use tenacity if you want to but it's not very good by comparison because you can't do things like add reverb to a track and then remove it later. it's the ms paint of the audio world.

i have a lot of plugins that i use but really all you need are an eq (there are free ones in basically any daw, reaper included), a compressor (same), and some kind of noise suppression (you can get away with just using a noise gate most of the time and there's usually one built in, but there are also a lot of free denoisers that work well). i also like to use reverb plugins to add some space in my audios, there's a free plugin called protoverb by u-he and it's a little jank but i really like it because you can get it to sound like a real room (bathroom, bedroom, whatever is appropriate to your audio) instead of just a generic "space"

a lot of other vas i know record everything in one take and you totally can but honestly i prefer to record until i like misspeak, stop the recording, cut off the last few seconds and then start again from where i left off. there's a setting in reaper that i use to make it play like 5ish seconds of audio before the recording starts, and i try to talk along with it so that it doesn't sound like there's a cut.

also, i like to record speaking really really quietly really close to the mic, that way a) my voice doesn't get tired as fast, b) if i start whispering it doesn't actually end up being much quieter than the "normal" speaking so you can still hear it and c) there isn't as much noise because i can turn the gain way down on the mic

also if you're using a proper denoiser, record like 10s of audio on another track before you start actually recording, and then as long as you don't move the mic or your fan or whatever you can use that to train the denoiser and it'll sound a lot better than the "real time" setting where it trains itself on the fly

lastly, i highly recommend monitoring (hearing yourself through your headphones as you record) if you can, because it makes it way easier to notice when you accidentally bump the mic, speak too loud, etc., and that way you can catch it and stop the take to cut it out.

i could keep rambling for a long time but this is getting rly long lol if you have questions please dm me i love chatting ^-^

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 12 - Javi G.

Experiments

Pairing: Javi G. x afab!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, anal sex, anal fingering, drug use (THC edible), < idk how that actually works but I tried by best lmfao, nicknames (baby, carino, hermosa), paddington 2 honorable mention, stuff im forgetting

Summary: You and Javi get a chance to try out some new stuff

A/N: Don't know if I really like this one tbh. I found it kinda hard to write for Javi G. and it was rly late and I was tired and I'm making excuses, but, like. yeah. Hope y'all like it anyway! Tmw's prompt is snuggling, and I don't know what pboy I'll be writing for that one yet, so feel free to leave a suggestion!

***

“Babe,” you drag out through a laugh. “Quit smiling!”

Javi attempts to obey your request, but only ends up smiling wider, a laugh of his own bubbling up in his throat.

The two of you are sitting on the bed naked, you on his thighs, placing an edible on his stuck-out tongue. You’ve already popped a tab in your mouth, now just waiting for it to dissolve. 

Paddington 2 is playing on low volume on the TV in the corner, but neither of you are paying much attention to it. 

You giggle as you finally get the tab to stick to Javi’s tongue, and he closes his mouth before leaning forward to plant a kiss on your lips. You sigh into him, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

Javi looks you warmly in the eyes and runs a hand through your hair when you pull away. 

“You ready, hermosa?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you grin back. 

The two of you have had this conversation a few times before, but today just seems like the perfect day to go through with it. Neither of you have plans tomorrow, so you have all night to act out your deepest fantasies. Might as well do it with some THC. 

You lift yourself off of his lap and position yourself so that you're on your elbows and knees in front of him. 

“Fuckkk, baby,” Javi drags the words out. “So fucking sexy. Let me see your pretty holes,” he instructs you as he leans over to get the bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. 

You follow his request, quickly reaching behind you to spread your cheeks, revealing both your virgin asshole and your glistening pussy lips. 

“Damn it,” he groans from behind you, positioning himself on his knees. “Perfect fucking ass, baby.” 

You squirm and have to hold in a whine at his praise, your mind already going a bit hazy as the drugs start to kick in. There’s a studden snap from behind you, making you flinch. 

“No, ‘s okay, carino. Just gonna get you ready for me.”

You nod into the sheets and close your eyes, jolting when a cold substance starts to drip down your crack. 

“Feels so weird,” you say, words tumbling out without your permission. Javi chuckles as he snaps the lube back up and sets it down. 

“I know, baby. Just relax for me.” 

Suddenly, Javi has a finger at your hole, gently spreading lubrication around the tight ring of muscle. He applies a bit of pressure, and the tip of his finger slips in with ease. There’s barely anything there yet, but you can already see the appeal. 

“‘S good,” you slur into the sheets, your eyes still closed. 

“That’s good, baby, jus’ tell me if it’s too much.” 

Even Javi’s words are starting to sound a bit muffled, though that’s partly because he’s starting to feel the effects of the drug as well. He slides the rest of his finger in and starts to pump it in and out. 

You moan as he curls the digit slightly and it hits a heavenly spot within you, your brows scrunching as your jaw goes slack. You buck back into him, already craving more.

“Gonna put another one in, okay?” Javi asks, leaning over slightly to get closer to you. 

“Mkay,” you say, moving your hands so that you can grip the bed sheets. Javi Immediately takes over holding you open by gripping onto one cheek. 

“There’s a good girl, doing so good for me, hermosa,” he assures you as he slips another finger in. 

Soon enough, he’s able to keep three fingers inside of you comfortably. You’re a whining, moaning mess beneath him, but he’s almost just as bad with the noises he’s making. 

Without warning, he moves the hand holding your asscheek down and between your legs, quickly finding your neglected clit and making you gasp. He rubs fast circles, causing you to keen and buck your hips. 

Your brain feels like complete mush between the THC and the euphoria Javi’s producing. Every swipe of his fingers in your ass makes you groan and push back into him, so with the combination of your clit being touched, your orgasm is quick to approach. 

Before you can warn him, a wave of pleasure is wracking your body as your cunt convulses around nothing. Javi picks up speed as he fingers your ass, muttering praises as you ride out your orgasm. You think you might be drooling a bit, but you don’t care enough to check. 

“Alright, ‘m gonna fuck this little ass now,” Javi says as he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you gaping slightly. You nod at him, making a non-committal but somehow affirmative sound. 

He doesn’t waste another moment before lubing up his throbbing cock, tugging on himself a few times to warm it up for you. 

He notches himself at your entrance, groaning as he slips his tip in. 

“So good, baby, so fucking tight.” 

“More,” you whine, reaching one hand behind you to attempt to grasp him. He laughs lightly at you, prompting you to giggle as well, only for you to be cut off with a moan as he feeds more of his cock into your ass. 

You cry out when you feel his pelvis touching your ass, and he leans over you to let out a loud groan. He’s already sitting at that spot that makes you squirm, so there’s immediately a dull excitement low in your abdomen as you wait for him to move. 

And he does, not a few seconds later. He’s slow as he pulls his hips away from you, dragging his cock along your walls, and then he slams back in, almost knocking the wind out of you. He keeps up a brutal pace, grunting and moaning as he grips your hips tightly. 

You fold your arms under your head, trying to control the sounds you’re making with no success. 

“‘S so g-good, Javi,” you say through a whine. 

“I-I know, baby,” he says, sounding just as wrecked. “‘M already so fucking close. T-Tight little asshole feels so good.”

You move one hand down and start to rub at your clit, determined to come at the same time as him. 

“Fill me up, baby,” you slur out. Javi whines in response, his pace picking up which makes you sink your front end deeper into the sheets. Your entire body feels heavy, and you’re grateful Javi is holding you by your hips so you don’t fall completely. 

You feel a coil low in your belly, tightening and getting ready to snap. Every nerve feels raw, and your body feels like it’s getting warmer with every thrust from Javi and each pass of your fingers. 

“C-Come with me now, hermosa” Javi spits out, his cock already twitching in your ass. The soft movement sets you off, and you begin to come again. Your ass tightens slightly around Javi, which triggers his orgasm, and he comes with a shout, filling you with hot ropes of his cum. 

You gasp for air as you ride out your orgasms together, your movements going slower but sloppier at the same time. As soon as you’re both finished, you collapse, Javi coming down with you. 

He slips out of you, which makes you whine. You can already feel his release dribbling out of your used hole and down to your untouched pussy. He finds a spot next to you on his stomach, his face next to yours. 

Panting for breath, you stare each other in the eye, and then you start to giggle. What for, you have no idea, but you’re both cackling messes before long. 

You scootch toward him slightly, ignoring the dull pain coming from your lower body. Your vision is slightly blurry, but you’re close enough to find his lips. You make out like a couple of teenagers for what seems like hours, but is actually only a few minutes. 

After your lips start to feel numb, you separate, and you somehow have enough of a conscious mind to turn around and look at the clock. The numbers are too blurred for you to make them out, but you’re pretty sure you can make out a 3:02 if you squint hard enough. 

When you turn around to make Javi get up and check for you, he’s already snoring. You smile and put your head back down, dozing off within less than a minute.

***

Thank you for reading! Please consider liking, reblogging, or commenting if you enjoyed!

Also, lmk if you would like to join the countdown taglist :)

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian

Link to prompt list

[slytherinshua]

i'm bored so send in some fic requests with prompts <3

back to main pinned

rules

only 1-2 prompts per ask, these fics are going to be short drabbles, not full fics unless the brainrot is too strong skdjks so expect the wc to be around +-500 words

please only send in requests for the boyz, nct wish, tws, zerobaseone, boynextdoor, xdinary heroes, txt, onf, mcnd, lucy, nflying, or hwang minhyun cause those are the ppl i feel like writing for rn skdjsk im sorry </3 (heavy on tbz i rly wanna write more fics for them!!!)

if you request for a group that is not listed im just gonna delete the ask im sorry :(

i might reject some requests if i've already written a fic with the same prompt, it's hard to think of different fic ideas and include the same prompts so i'm sorry if i can't do your request </3

ill only be writing/accepting prompt requests for the next week so enjoy until then!!

prompt list under the cut!! (it's not very organized and i just got random prompts on tumblr and from my past prompt events!) i will cross out prompts that i’ve already written fics with!!

"I'm not leaving you. Ever."

"We're not just dating, we're married."

 "Just breathe with me, okay?" "Okay."

 "Can I kiss you?"

"Five more minutes please, I don't wanna leave you."

"I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's making me crazy."

"Get some rest, you work too hard."

 "You deserve the world."

 "Your hair is soft."

“You're safe here with me."

"It's you. It's always going to be you."

 "You're not like them. You're better, you always have been and you always will be."

 "How about we face it together?"

"Whatever happens; I'll be here."

"Why?" "Because I love you."

"I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I have something to do!" "Blow them off and stay here with me all day."

"Oh, so you're jealous?" "I'm not jealous!"

"Dance with me?"

"You're my home."

"When I'm with you, everything else goes away."

"I can't stay away from you, I tried but I can't."

"Wanna get drunk together?"

"Is this a date?"

"Are those my clothes?"

"You're worth the wait."

"Eyes up here, idiot."

 "I'm yours. I'll always be yours."

"Time will take care of it."

"Are you hurt?!"

"We'll fix things. We always do."

"One more kiss."

“I’d never turn down a kiss from you.”

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?”

“You can’t scare me like that, okay?”

“Let me help you.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s okay. I’m here.”

“Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine.”

"I'm sorry. I'll never be good enough for you."

"I cheated on you."

"I think this ― us ― was a mistake."

"Please don't go."

"I'm too scared to die, not yet, please."

"I love you, and that's why I'm letting you go."

"Oh my god.. You love somebody else."

"It probably doesn't mean anything to you, but I love you."

"I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't." 

"Leave."

"I can't forgive you."

"Don't make me choose."

"I don't have a choice."

 "Why does this sound like goodbye?" "Because it is."

"You said forever."

 "How long have you been lying to me?"

"Did you ever love me?"

 "Why do you keep me a secret? Why are we hiding?"

 "Are you embarrassed of me?"

"One last time. Please."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Was I not enough for you?"

"You don't get to call me that anymore."

 "Is that all I mean to you?"

"It's better this way."

 "I get it. You can leave. It's what they all do anyway."

"You're just like the others."

 "You don't mean that." "I do."

"But why would you do it to me?"

"So this is the end?"

"After everything, this is all you can come up with?"

[v3nusxsky]

Peer pressure

*Authors note~ I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to this love I hope it's okay*

Trigger warnings~ peer pressure, alcohol drugs stick and pokes easily led r and depression

Prompt~ Hey idk rly how requests work but I wanted to request a lesso x reader H&C fic -where the reader kinda has like a mental breakdown cuz their friends keep pressuring them into like drinking and drugs and stick and pokes and they're just tired of doing stuff they don't really wanna be doing and having to hide it from everyone- idk just some personal issues I'm going through that I need some comfort for if u do write it id really appreciate it and I don't really want credit but it's fine if u don't do ya thanks also I love ur writing it helps me a lot so thanks for that <3 requested by mystery272722 on wattpad

You'd always been told you were easily led. In a world full of Shepard's and sheep, you were undoubtedly a sheep. A follower of anyone really. You aimed to please, and if you didn't you worried you'd lose the person or that you'd somehow lost your worth. This is what made you vulnerable and easy to exploit, despite knowing that you were powerless to stop. Seeking validation and friendship and finding it in the wrong crowd.

You liked to think you were a good student, as good as a never can be anyway. But this new group of friends you found yourself in seemed to be the complete opposite. The first hint was when they encouraged you to go drinking. You didn't really want to drink, alcohol wasn't your thing, but every time you said no your friends would keep pushing you to. That night you ended up caving and telling them "just one" which ended up being an awful amount, so much so you had no idea just how much alcohol was floating around in your system. The hangover you were going to have in the morning would be one hell of a bitch to deal with. Yet your friends were no where to be seen in the morning, probably off nursing their own hangovers. You promised yourself you'd be stronger next time.

The next time was when a few of them decided to get high. It wasn't something you ever wanted to try, you had no interest and truly you hated the smell of it. Yet you still wish d to keep your friends so you went with them, knowing you'd told them you wouldn't be smoking. Oh how wrong you'd been. They let you get comfortable before adding on the pressure, goading and taunting you into smoking with them. "Don't be a baby, it's just a little smoke" they whined watching as you coughed and spluttered after taking a hit. It tasted god damn awful, you didn't understand why anyone would want to do this willingly. Upset with yourself for not being stronger you managed to break away from the group.

The third time they were doing stick and pokes. You didn't want one, if you were going to get tattoos then it would be done in a shop by a trained professional, not some drunk and high 17 year old in the schools classroom. Truly you wondered why they choose to set up here, after all a classroom? But you left them too it, until the pressure became too much. "It doesn't even hurt why are you such a whimp" the whined trying to catch you and put you in the chair. "No thank you. I don't want to" you whimpered trying to stand up to them only to fail. They'd caught you and held you still in the chair.

Just as the needle pierced the skin and you let out a pained cry. That cry alerted Leonora Lesso to come and see the room, the sight that met her truly broke her heart. Your so-called friends holding you down as you cried. Instantly, she began barking orders at you all, dismissing the unnecessary students before ensuring they let you go. You were instantly up, out of the chair and into her arms. Your sobs wrecked your body as you clutched your arm to your body. Her hand soothingly ran up and down your spine before instructing your friends to be taken to the doom room. Maybe if you were willing to have the stick and poke she could've turned a blind eye, but seeing how distressed you were she knew they had to be punished.

"Sweetheart, you should never be forced into something you don't want to do. And if your friends don't listen to you Angel then they aren't good friends to have" she finished her little speech she dropped a quick sweet kiss to your head before asking to see your arm. You allowed her too and she gently healed the small pokes. "There sweetheart it never happened, if anything should ever happen like this I want you to come and find me okay Angel" you nodded in conformation that you would before just soaking in her motherly embrace.

Word count~ 861

[here2bbtstrash]

look down on me like that - 6 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 6.2k

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! alcohol mention, some mildly twisty conversations about consent/regretting sex (everything in this series is very consensual tho just wanna reiterate), teasing, dirty talk, VERY semi-public sex with risk of being heard/caught, fingering, lowkey fingerwarming, hold the moan, light choking, finger sucking, dumbification if you rly squint, protected sex (in the office... oop 👀), fucking against a door lmao 🙌🏻

A/N: sooooo excited to post this hehe 💜 i know this chap is a lil bit of a shorty but they can't all be 11k, and i'm trying to give y'all a mild refractory period before we launch into even more chaos 💀 AND SORRY NOT SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER ENDING..... i promise i won't keep you hanging for long 😘

read on AO3!

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

~*~

“So… it’s been nearly a week,” Jimin prompts just as you tip your head back to take a long swig of your beer. The bratty tone in your best friend’s voice only encourages you to chug another swallow before you set the glass back down. He doesn’t even have to say the since you fucked your coworker part out loud.

Using the provided scissors and tongs, he starts to cut up the strips of pork belly laid flat on the grill between you. “When’s the wedding? Have you named your kids yet?”

“I can’t stand you,” you whine, torn between wanting to kick him under the table and wanting him to share the meat he’s been so carefully preparing. The aroma is making your mouth water as it sizzles on the hot surface.

You settle for fixing him with your best death glare.

Jimin shrugs, unbothered. “That’s fine. I just wanna know how you’re handling the fact that you are now officially sleeping with the enemy.”

“Aht aht. Slept with.” You raise a finger to correct him, using your other hand to maneuver your chopsticks to pick up a marinated cucumber and pop it into your mouth. “Past tense.”

Jimin purses his lips, looking unconvinced. “Is that so?”

“Are you kidding me?” You make a face. “It was a moment of weakness, and now it’s done. What would be the point in letting him have it again? In letting him win like that?” You wave a hand dismissively. “Absolutely not.”

“You are so dumb,” Jimin laughs as he starts to extoll pork onto your plate. “I cannot believe you found good dick and now you’re actively declining it. After how insane you nearly went? You think that won’t happen again?”

“I got it out of my system,” you say with a proud shake of your head, popping a piece of meat into your mouth. It’s so hot it nearly burns your tongue off, but the flavor is well worth it, and you continue with your mouth full. “And I’m good. Moving on with my life.”

Jimin hums like he doesn’t believe a damn word. “And how’s that gonna work out for you in a couple weeks, when you and Suga are in Los Angeles together, breathing that sweet American air? And sharing a hotel room that just so happens to only have one bed?”

With the pork belly successfully secured on your plate, you have no reason to hold back from kicking him this time. “You watch too much TV.”

“Speaking of!” He pauses with food halfway to his mouth, dropping it back onto his plate as he digs into his pocket for his phone. “My comps finally came in for the show I’m dancing in this weekend. I’m not even going to ask if you have plans because I already know the answer, so you better fucking be there.”

You pick up your phone to see his text come in, face scrunching up as you chew. “Two questions,” you prompt. “One, I fail to see what this has to do with watching TV. And two, why did you send me two tickets?”

Jimin rests his elbows on the table, fingers laced together under his chin, somewhere in between posing cutely and looking like he’s about to read you for filth.

“Out of the kindness of my heart, because I am such a good fucking friend, I am giving you a chance for a little Business Proposal moment. Bring your Suga, see what happens.” He shrugs a shoulder. “One concert could change everything, you know?”

You grind your teeth together and reach for your drink as he uses your favorite show against you, humming the theme tune under his breath. “I really hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately. But I am not bringing Suga to your fucking concert,” you clarify, glass halfway to your mouth. “There is a world of difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting to spend an evening with them.”

“So you do still want to fuck him,” Jimin presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows. “Very interesting.”

“Don’t make me leave you with the bill.” You roll your eyes and down the rest of your beer in one swig.

An hour later, you’ve eaten your body weight in grilled meats and have thrown back enough beers that the world blurs gently at the edges, vignetted, as you slip out onto the sidewalk and say goodnight to your best friend.

You’d managed to convince Jimin to meet at the place that’s just a few blocks from your apartment, and it’s not a terribly cold evening, all things considered. The alcohol certainly helps keep you warm as you make the short walk back home, the still-busy streets humming and blinking soft around you.

It takes a concentrated effort to use your phone without tripping in your current state, and you thumb slowly through your texts until you land on the concert tickets from Jimin. When his words echo again in your brain, you do your best to chase them off with a frustrated sigh.

It will be a cold day in hell before you voluntarily spend an evening with Yoongi, you tell yourself. But it’d be nice to go with someone.

You’re scrolling down your contact list and lifting the ringing phone to your ear before you can decide whether or not it’s a good idea.

After two rings, the line connects, and a voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jungkook.” You giggle a little despite yourself. You’ve never spoken to your coworker in any state of inebriation before, and once his name leaves your mouth, you realize you’re a little more fucked up than you bargained for. But it’s fine, you tell yourself. You’re fine.

“Hi— is everything okay?”

You double-blink, not expecting the check-in. “Yeah, no, everything’s great.” It only occurs to you now that maybe you’ve interrupted whatever his post-work plans might be. “Sorry, I— were you in the middle of something?”

He lets out a sheepish laugh, and you imagine that his cheeks are flushed pink, the way they sometimes get after boxing class. “Nothing important. I was brushing my dog’s teeth, actually. You just, uh, usually text—”

“Wait,” you fully interrupt him. “You have a dog?”

“I have three dogs,” he corrects, with another light laugh that’s almost musical. “My sons.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in mock-anger. “I am hurt and betrayed that you have kept this information from me!”

“I’m sorry!” He giggles back, clearly flustered. “It didn’t come up! I’ll send you some pictures, I promise. They’re very cute.”

“You better,” you huff. “And here I was getting ready to be nice to you.”

“Oh?” Jungkook sounds intrigued. There’s a soft shifting sound on the line, and you find yourself wondering if he’s laying down in bed, phone pressed to his cheek. The image makes your heart sink a little, and you shove the feeling away to process when you’re less tipsy. “How were you going to be nice?”

You pause for a moment to cross the street, letting your fake-hurt charade drop. “Well, my best friend is a dancer, and he was booked to perform in this concert that’s happening tomorrow night. He gave me a free ticket and an extra, and I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything… if you want to go with me?”

“Yeah, for sure!” You swear you can hear Jungkook’s smile light up the phone. “That sounds awesome.”

You linger at the front of your apartment building, phone tucked to your ear, watching cars and bicyclists roll by in the neon smear of the city at night. “Awesome,” you repeat back. “I’ll text you my address if you want to come pick me up after work?” A little bubble of excitement floats up and pops in your chest.

“I can definitely do that.”

~*~

“You need to fill all this out for the Grammy’s trip.”

The large stack of registration paperwork lands on Yoongi’s desk with a resounding thud, but he doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Though you’ve put on a brave face and moved back to your desk in the lobby after the happy hour incident, you’ve still avoided any alone time with the genius in his lab, as much as you can help it.

Today, it could not be helped. Especially given your need for a change in schedule.

“And I’m leaving early tonight.” You add, trying to feign confidence, just be direct and to the point. “I need you out of here at five, Yoongi.”

He grunts a noncommittal response, but doesn’t look up from the screen of his computer. His eyes are squinting slightly at the tracks on his mixing software. You wonder for a moment if maybe he needs glasses.

You furrow your brow as soon as you process the thought—what the fuck do you care about this man’s eyesight? You give your head a subtle shake in hopes of dislodging the idea.

Yoongi waves a hand silently, as if to imply you’re dismissed.

You really don’t know what makes you say it. “Jungkook and I are going to a concert.”

At this, Yoongi’s concentration seems to falter. He glances away from the screen, head tilting slightly to one side as he eyes you. “A date with Kookie, huh? Cute. I knew you two would get there eventually.”

You’re not sure what other conclusion you expected him to draw from the information, but suddenly your face is hot. You have to suppress the physical urge to squirm in frustration, to literally stomp your feet like a toddler.

“Can you just be normal?” You snap. “It’s not like that. Not everyone wants to fuck their coworkers all the time.”

He spins a quarter-circle in his chair to fully face you with an eyebrow raised. “Does Jungkook know it’s not like that?”

You stammer at being put on the spot. “I-I’m sure he does.”

Yoongi blinks lazily at you. “Uh huh.”

Rage flares up in your gut before you can stop it. “Jungkook is a nice guy. He’s not a boundary-crossing creep like you.” The words sting like acid as they leave your mouth. 

Yoongi gets to his feet so quickly you barely have time to process it.

For every step he takes towards you, you take one towards the door of his lab, walking backwards. “You know,” he mutters darkly, “I liked your mouth a lot better when it was on my cock.”

Your back finds purchase against the closed door, and you swallow hard, refusing to show fear.  “Well, remember it fondly, because I’m not making that mistake twice.”

Yoongi falls quiet for a moment, eyes searching yours. You’re a little surprised when he takes a step back. “Do you really feel like I violated a boundary?” His voice is flat, nearly monotone, when he asks the question.

You fumble for your words, for the truth; both are hard to find. “I-I don’t know.”

He surveys you with an expression you can’t decipher. “I gave you plenty of opportunity to say no. Do you feel like you were too drunk?”

“No. I mean, I consented. I’m not saying I didn’t. I just… we’re coworkers.”

“I’m aware. You called it a mistake. Do you regret it?”

“Do you?”

He huffs a dry laugh. “You keep acting like I’m not stating it plainly here. I would love to fuck you senseless again any time, sweetheart.” The pet name is biting. “I’d take you right up against this door, if you wanted. But not if you’re going to regret it.”

Your mind swims as you try to make sense of this conversation. “What if I don’t?”

Yoongi takes a single step closer to you. “Well, then I’d ask you when you want it again.”

The expression on his face, as if he’s won some smug game, is endlessly infuriating. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “And what makes you think I’ll just give it up again?”

He just keeps smirking, eyes locked on you. “You tell me. I’m the one asking permission here.”

You tilt your chin up towards Yoongi, suddenly very aware of how close he is to you. Something in you pulls taught as you recall your conversation in the bathroom after he nearly came in your mouth.

“If you want it so bad, then beg for it.” The words spark between your teeth as you say them.

There’s a glint in Yoongi’s eyes, and a muscle in his jaw jumps, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. Then he slowly starts to nod. “Is that what you want?”

You refuse to look away. “Did I stutter?”

His tongue darts out briefly to wet his lips, and then he laughs an exhale, a single indignant breath. Eye contact never faltering, you watch as he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. The silence of the room hangs heavy between you, roaring in your ears like white noise. Yoongi blinks once, dark lashes fluttering. “Please?”

You feel some last mechanism of inner restraint shatter as you nod.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate but, surprisingly, not rough. His palms meet the backs of your thighs and begin to slide up, encouraging you to pull your hips off the door and allow him room, your shoulders still pressed flush against the wood behind you.

His hands keep moving, slipping under the back of your dress with no hesitation, only stopping when he finds what he’s looking for: the band of your panties, which he hooks his thumbs under and swiftly pulls down your legs, leaving the lacy fabric to pool around your ankles. You shift to kick them off and suddenly realize your mouth has gone dry.

“Do I have to use my words?” Yoongi asks, voice low. His hands retrace their path back up your thighs, but he takes his time with it now. You hate the way your breath is starting to go shaky from his touch.

“What else would you use?”

“My tongue.”

Yoongi has pushed the hem of your dress up, his mouth devastatingly close to your center and his hands cupping your ass. He stares up at you, waiting patiently for a response, dark eyes brimming with want.

You’re still not even sure of your answer as you start to say it, but then a firm knock at the door cuts you off, loud enough to rattle your brain inside your skull. Ice floods your veins as your eyes go wide.

“Min Suga?” Jungkook’s voice calls from the other side.

Your breath hitches in your chest. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, JK,” Yoongi calls, not moving from where he’s knelt on the floor in front of you, both hands still firmly grabbing your ass. “Sorry, I’ve–” he glances pointedly up at you, and it takes everything you have not to slap him when he continues, “I’ve kinda got my hands full right now. What’s up?”

“No worries, you gave me the code, remember?” Your stomach twists violently as you hear the distinct beeping of Jungkook starting to type into the number pad.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi to your lacy underwear, in plain sight, too far away that you can’t possibly retrieve them in the mere seconds you have to react.

Adrenaline surges through you, enough to make you lightheaded, to make your limbs go numb. There’s no time to do anything. You flatten yourself against the door as the handle starts to turn and the overwhelming urge to cry rushes up into your chest.

Yoongi seems to finally take the situation seriously, because in a flash, he’s on his feet, arms caging you in on either side to push firmly back against the door. His forearms peek out from under the short sleeves of his black t-shirt— you can see the defined muscles there flex and work, the way his veins bulge under his pale skin as he presses all his weight into the door with a look of real, concentrated effort.

Fuck. You’re not sure you’ve ever been simultaneously aroused and on the verge of tears before.

“Sorry, Jungkook,” Yoongi tries again, and you can hear him attempting to keep the strain out of his voice. “I’m, uh– redecorating a bit in here. I’ve got some stuff blocking the door right now. Can we just talk like this?”

“Oh yeah, sure, okay!” Jungkook answers brightly. You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately willing this nightmare to be over. While you’re pretty sure Jungkook won’t try the door again, an animalistic part of you is still too terrified to do anything, frozen in fear at what nearly just happened.

You’re only distantly aware of Jungkook babbling on about work. “I’ve got a few questions about upcoming release scheduling, so I can know what content we need to get ready. Can you talk me through the rest of Q1 real quick? Just so I know what’s coming when.”

A shiver runs through you at the feeling of a touch, so barely-there that at first you think you might be imagining it.

Your eyes flutter open to find one of Yoongi’s large hands pressed to your throat, delicate fingers splayed over the column of your neck.

It could be aggressive, but it’s not. Decidedly not. His touch is featherlight, and he applies no pressure to your windpipe. If anything, the gentle weight of his hand is oddly… comforting. A word you would never have thought to associate with Min fucking Yoongi before this moment.

The silver chain bracelet on his wrist winks in the soft purple glow of his studio lights, and you stare at it in a daze, entranced. You can feel your adrenaline high beginning to crash: the world feels muted, faded, far away.

“Go ahead, Jungkook,” Yoongi prompts, and you wonder if you’re imagining that his voice has softened just the slightest bit.

You drag your gaze up to him as he starts to talk through scheduling with Jungkook, his tone all business. He’s not looking at you, eyes instead fixed firmly on the door in front of him, occasionally rolling up to glance at the ceiling when he’s trying to recall something.

As your heart rate starts to settle, you take a moment to drink in Yoongi’s features unobserved. The line of his jaw. The slight furrow of his brow. His full, pink lips.

Your throat jumps when you swallow under his touch, and he doesn’t look down, but his hand begins to move. His palm stays heavy over the slope of your throat, but his fingers and thumb move smoothly, tracing faint patterns over your skin, stroking along the muscles of your neck and setting every last one of your nerve endings alight.

Your eyes are heavy-lidded with lust now, and your head tips back against the door, all thoughts blotted out at his touch. Fuck, it feels good.

A gasp slips past your lips when you feel Yoongi’s other hand brush over your leg, and you pray the door is thick enough that the sound doesn’t carry. He’s still talking through scheduling with Jungkook, answering questions as calmly as ever, as his whole palm comes to rest on one of your thighs below the hem of your dress, fingers just barely teasing under the fabric.

When Yoongi finally meets your gaze, his dark eyes pierce straight through you, as if to pin you to the door. He raises one eyebrow in a silent question, and the meaning is unmistakable: another request for permission.

Arousal rolls through you like a riptide, and you’re dragged under before you can even think to fight it. The dramatics of the previous close call linger— it feels like you’ll die if he doesn’t touch you right now. The fact that you shouldn’t be doing this only makes you want it more.

You don’t look away as you nod your consent.

You spread your legs to allow him room, hips tilting up, and Yoongi slips his hand under your dress to snake between your parted thighs. Fresh desire mixes with the cotton-numb fuzz of dwindling panic in your brain, the knowledge that Jungkook is still inches away from you and talking as Yoongi’s hand approaches your center. You have to bite down on your bottom lip at the first brush of contact.

Their conversation continues on, but you don’t process a word of it.

Yoongi traces two fingers gently over the lips of your cunt, teasing devastatingly close to your clit before moving down to circle at your entrance, where he slicks them in the wetness that has already started to pool there.

He keeps his movements so slow, his touch so light; your mind belatedly catches up to realize that anything more will surely start to elicit an audible sound.

You wonder if maybe this is it, if he’s just going to torture you, his fingers running through your folds in long strokes that have your core throbbing until you can’t take it anymore. And then he laughs a little at a comment Jungkook makes and uses the moment of sound coverage to deftly press those two fingers into you.

You bite down even harder on your lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet. Yoongi’s fingers push in to the hilt, long and thick enough to fill you up entirely. It’s all you can do to keep your breathing steady— the feeling of him inside of you jolts through you with every inhale.

Desperate for movement and nearly shaking with hypersensitivity, you clench your pussy around his fingers in a silent plea for more.

As if in response, the hand around your throat just barely tightens. You don’t know whether to read it as encouragement or a warning, but it makes your eyes flutter closed all the same.

His fingers begin to curl at a truly torturous pace, and then they press so firmly into your g-spot that your knees nearly buckle.

You’re hardly cognizant of the room around you anymore, or the wood of the door digging into your back; nothing else seems to matter in this moment except the weight of Yoongi’s fingers and the way your walls grip tightly around them.

Your eyes snap open again when his other hand suddenly leaves your throat. You feel exposed without it, but you shiver all over as the warmth of his palm trails along your collarbone before traveling down the slope of your body to settle at your waist.

As soon as that hand stills, the other pulls back from the heat of your cunt, and he brings his fingers up to brush over your bottom lip. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as he asks another silent question.

You open your mouth like a reflex, and you willingly let Yoongi pet the taste of you over your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers, and your gaze stays locked with his as you hollow your cheeks to suck diligently, swallowing down your own slickness.

With a heady groan, he withdraws, leaning forward to brace the same hand against the door just next to your head.

It occurs to you now that he’s no longer speaking, no longer afraid of making noise. Jungkook must have left– you can’t say when that happened.

The returning silence of the room pulses like a heartbeat. Yoongi is hovering over you, lips slightly parted, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath, and you swear the distance between you is narrowing by the second.

“Nervous?” He murmurs, so quiet you easily could’ve imagined it.

“Fuck me.” Your voice comes out a little hoarse.

“Hmm?” Yoongi freezes where he is, sounding almost dazed when he hums the question. Just shy of your mouth but invitingly, dangerously close.

Your hands are already fumbling to undo the buckle of his belt. “I said fuck me, Yoongi,” you snap. “Up against this door. Before I change my mind.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up. “God, you’re bossy,” he murmurs, but then his arm is no longer caging you against the door, and he makes quick work of getting his pants and boxers pushed down.

When he backs off, you draw in a breath that’s like coming up for air.

Your head reels a little when you see that he’s fully hard and starting to drip precum: you’re not sure when that happened, either. He retrieves a condom from his wallet and makes short work of tearing it open with his teeth.

The thought of his mouth so close to yours again is terrifying in a way you don’t have words for. Before he can step back towards you, you turn and press both hands flush with the door. You reach down briefly to hike the hem of your dress up over your hips.

It’s mildly humiliating to present yourself like this for him, exposed, back arched, your pussy aroused enough to slick your thighs and just waiting to be filled again. And yet, not unlike the risk of getting caught, the shame only makes it hotter, in some twisted way.

​​Yoongi braces one hand against the door, gripping your hip tightly with the other. You breathe in shallow gasps as his cock teases your entrance, and then he slowly starts to press into you.

“Shit, Yoongi,” you whine softly, overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you open. The stretch of him makes your eyes roll back in your head, just as perfect as you remember, and all you can do is take it. When he bottoms out, you do your best to bite back a moan, wiggling your ass to fully sheathe him inside of you, wanting every inch.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You whimper again in response.

“We still have to be pretty quiet— these walls aren’t that thick. Guess you can’t scream my name this time.” His voice is dark, sardonic, and you grit your teeth as you look at him over your shoulder.

“Will you shut up and fuck me?”

“Didn’t realize you were my manager,” he huffs, but then he starts to thrust, hard and fast, and you choke on a barely-suppressed noise. You arch up higher to push back on him, your body begging silently for it, your walls fluttering as the thick head of his cock drags over your g-spot again and again.

Yoongi’s hand on your hip shifts, fingers splaying over the soft flesh of your ass, digging in hard enough to bruise. You inhale sharply at the sweet sparks of pleasure-pain, already edged close and losing the fight to stay quiet.

“How does it feel?”

You’re surprised by the question, and even more so at the sincerity with which Yoongi seems to ask it, voice low in his throat and a little raw. You have to scramble to find words through the haze of your impending climax.

“I-it’s good,” you manage. His hips snap into you even harder and you gasp again. “Fuck, really good.”

He exhales a dark laugh. “Yeah, I can tell. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, shit.”

Your head nearly smacks against the door from how forcefully his cock is now pounding into your tight heat. You roll your eyes– of course he wasn’t sincerely asking. You want to kick yourself for even entertaining the idea that Min Yoongi could be anything other than a selfish asshole.

Despite that fact, his rough, relentless thrusts are enough to leave you breathless, and the pleasure builds hot and fast in your core. Your head is spinning, and a shiver rips through you when you suddenly feel his breath over your neck, hear his voice in your ear.

“Gonna think about getting fucked like this on your date tonight?”

The stifled whine you let out and the way your pussy throbs around him betray any denial you could’ve tried to make. You look back over your shoulder at him, attempting to say something, anything, and then Yoongi’s hand slips down to circle your clit and you lose the ability to think coherently at all.

“Wanna feel you come on my cock,” Yoongi murmurs, and you swear your legs almost give out.

It’s just white-hot pleasure now, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth and sob into it as your orgasm crests, your thighs shaking violently under his touch.

“Fuuuck,” Yoongi groans hoarsely as you start to pulse around him, over and over. His breathing comes in ragged gasps that match the pace of his hips as he keeps rutting into you, until he pushes all the way in with a last grunt of effort and you milk his release out with yours.

You slump forward, heart racing, and brace your forearms on the door to let your head loll between them. Yoongi stays stationary for a moment too, the hand on your hip absent-mindedly kneading into your skin, before he finally shifts and withdraws from your still-quivering cunt.

With a steadying exhale, you slowly right yourself on shaking legs while he steps away to deal with the condom.

Once your path is clear, you don’t wait around to suffer any small talk. You move to retrieve your panties off the floor and pull them back on with the last scrap of dignity you can manage. Then you shove your dress down over your hips and cross back to the door.

You leave without a second glance back at Yoongi. 

When you emerge from the Genius Lab, you make an immediate beeline for the bathroom, which is thankfully empty. It’s only once you press your palms flat against the cool marble countertop of the sink that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to make a conscious effort not to hyperventilate.

Your mind is racing as you take in your reflection in the mirror and attempt to put yourself back together, trying your best to look like you didn’t just get fucked against a door.

A door in the office. Because you are at work. Where you just had sex with a coworker you hate.

The realization of what you just did, how stupid you just were, hits you like a train. Fuck. You’re met with the overwhelming urge to scream at yourself. What is wrong with you? Your eyes roam over your own face, as if you might find the answer hidden there somewhere; your bottom lip is slightly swollen from how hard you were biting down on it.

Can you call something a mistake if you’ve voluntarily made it twice now– and while stone cold sober the second time, no less? And what if it’s a mistake you want to make again?

That can’t happen, you firmly tell your reflection. You won’t let Yoongi get a third strike on you, and you certainly won’t let him fuck up this job for you any more than he already has. He is now officially out of your system.

You gently smooth out your hair, and then you pause, fingertips lingering over the skin of your neck. You tilt your chin up slightly to get a good look in the mirror. There aren’t any visible marks, but you can’t quite shake the memory of Yoongi’s hand closed over your throat— the way everything in the world seemed to blink out of existence under his touch, if only for a moment.

It’s over, you tell yourself again. It has to be.

With a resigned sigh, you run your hands down over the front of your dress, then check the back to confirm there aren’t any weird stains. As much as you want to hide away in the bathroom for the rest of the day, you force yourself back out the door and down the hallway towards the lobby.

Your heart creeps into your throat as your footsteps bring you closer to the Genius Lab, and you forcefully tell yourself that it’s not a big deal. You’re just going to walk right by and head to your desk to proceed with the rest of your work day, thoroughly unbothered.

At this point you wonder why you’re even surprised when the door swings open and Yoongi practically runs into you. You jump out of his way, startled— and you are surprised to see that he has his bag slung over his shoulder and his dark sunglasses on.

“Just heading out,” Yoongi mutters, and your only answer is to keep your gaze fixed on your shoes when you brush past him and continue down the hall.

You’re sure he must be following after you, and you have to swallow the urge to interrogate him— ask why he’s leaving so early, where he’s going. You don’t care, you remind yourself. Not having him around is a good thing.

As you approach the office lobby, you glance up to see Jungkook walking towards you from the other direction. He holds up a hand in a lazy wave, and you come to a dead stop.

It’s the first time you’ve ever felt anything other than happy to see your coworker. Now panic rises in your chest, a wonder if maybe, somehow, he knows what happened on the other side of the Genius Lab door.

“I was just coming to find you,” he says as he crosses to meet you where the two hallways join and spill into the lobby.

You can tell from the look on his face that he means it. There’s no hidden agenda. Nothing to hold over your head. It’s enough to make you exhale a small laugh of relief.

“Well, you found me,” you say.

“Leaving already, Min Suga?” Jungkook’s gaze jumps to look behind you, and dread pools in your stomach. You couldn’t imagine a more mortifying exchange right now if you tried.

Yoongi doesn’t dignify Jungkook with a response, only hums noncommittally as he slips past the two of you and heads for the exit. Your stomach clenches as you wait to hear the doors open and close, praying there’s no sarcastic remark coming, praying he’ll just leave.

His hand presses flat against the glass, and then he turns over his shoulder, as if he’s just thought of something. “You kids have fun tonight,” he quips dryly. Then he pushes the door open and slips out into the hallway.

Jungkook looks a little lost. “Oh, uh, did you tell Suga that we–”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, it sort of came up. When I said he needed to leave early.” Jungkook nods, and you’re eager to change the subject. “What did you want to ask me?”

“I realized we didn’t agree on a time for me to pick you up tonight. I was thinking seven, if that works?”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest as you take in Jungkook’s sweet smile, the expectant but patient look on his face, Baby-Star-Candy eyes blinking. Your earlier conversation with Yoongi echoes in your mind like a knife to the gut.

“Actually, JK, can I talk to you? About tonight?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, I, uh– I just wanted to make sure you knew that…” You tense up as you prepare to deliver the blow. “This… isn’t a date. I was asking you as friends. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply. His face betrays no hurt feelings.

You’re rambling, unable to believe it could be this easy. “I mean, I-I just… don’t think it’s a good idea, you know? For coworkers to date.” Or fuck, a snide voice in your head adds.

Jungkook nods. “No, I totally get it, but seriously, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really like being your friend.” He shrugs, as if that’s all there is to it. “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Relief floods through you like a balm. “Seven sounds great.”

“Cool.” He’s already reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Can I show you pictures of my dogs now?”

~*~

At 6:55, there’s a firm knock on your door, and you squeak as you dig through the bottom of your closet in search for the right pair of shoes.

You spent most of the last hour on FaceTime with Jimin, who did what a good best friend is meant to do: viciously tear apart nearly everything in your closet while bent forward in a straddle split, warming up for his performance.

The two of you had eventually (more or less) compromised on a black t-shirt dress with a denim jacket thrown over top. Though Jimin had derided the look as “basic”, you’ve decided you’re just fine with that.

You finally find what you're looking for, retrieving your white Air Force Ones and stumbling to pull them on your socked feet as you trip out of your room and towards the front door.

You lean down to tie the laces as quickly as you can, then flip back upright, blood rushing to your head so fast you feel a little faint. You’re not sure why your heart has started to pick up speed, but you let out an exhale as you reach for the door handle, hoping it might help offset these strange sudden nerves.

You turn the handle and swing the door open to greet Jungkook with a smile– and your jaw drops at the sight waiting for you on the other side.

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

[lockem]

HIII LOVE!! ok so I’ve been in dire need of some overwatch fics I have so many ideas but one rly stands out for me could you do Moira x Fem reader or non binary if you prefer, where reader is slowly falling into a sort of “depression” state because of moiras neglect for them over her work ? Maybe ending in mega fluff lol I appreciate and adore your writing (if you ever are itching to write message me I come up with prompts out of my ass lol)

Moira x Reader

I tried my best, I didn't want to put a specific gender for the reader so anyone can enjoy it!! Hope you like it!!

angst !! +comfort ?

“Do you really care about me? or was that just another one of your lies Moira?” _

She keeps reassuring you, that once her work finally clears up that she’ll make it up to you. But that never happened now did it? Every time you ask her to spend time together or atleast take a break, she always makes such empty promises.

“Not now darling, I’m busy. Gabriel wants this done before the end of the week. I promise that I’ll make it up to you” 

“After this, we can continue that little show you always watch.”

Every single time, and yet here you are holed up in a small room, with only the sounds from the tv whispering. You’d miss how you and Moira would spend time together, how you’d go on little dates, or hold eachother and whisper sweet nothings as you’d fall asleep together. But that had been months ago, Moira always making excuses, distancing herself from you while she drowns herself in more and more experiments. 

An icky feeling in the back of your head forming, “What if she’s grown tired of me. What if she’d replace me with one of her subordinates? That cute assistant? Or what if she really hates me now. She’s always said she isn’t one for affection— what if—” 

What a foolish feeling. Sounds like something Moira would say, it just hurts to think about. So many “what ifs”, so many scenarios filling your head, “It doesn’t matter anyways, she’s probably leaving me soon, who am I to think I’d deserve to be someone like her, she’s so amazing, intelligent and beautiful.. She’ll probably choose that new assistant of hers over me—” Soft tears rolled down your cheeks, your room feels awfully cold, soft sniffles could be heard as the room lights up, the lights from the tv illuminating your tear struck face.

“Are you still watching?”

The show has finished. You couldn’t even pay attention in watching the finale, you’d been too busy, thinking about her, thinking about Moira. As you’d reach for the remote, you heard soft knocks on your door.

“Darling? Are you in there?”

Ah… Speaking of which, she’s here, outside your door, still calling you the same old name, so sweet. Hearing no answer, Moira lets herself in, gazing upon your tearstruck face.

“Darling.. Are you okay? What happened, I’m here now” she holds you, the same way she always did, with so much care, so gentle, it makes you feel like you're made of glass. Unlike her experiments, she’s always taken such good care of you. As soon as she held you in her arms, the tears began flowing, you’d miss her. She’s missed you. It’s like when she distanced herself and buried herself in work she’d broken you into pieces.

But now that she’s here, loving you as she did before, it feels like she’d put you back together. Gluing pieces of your relationship together, trying to keep it from falling apart. “I’m so sorry my dear, I know I’ve been distant for a while, I just wanted to finish everything, so I can hold you as long as I want. I am so sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to, I promise this won’t—” words cut short, shutting her up from her ramble of apologies, oh how you’d love her voice, her warmth, her presence, you missed kissing her. 

You didn’t care anymore, those jealous thoughts vanished as she held you. Moira didn’t care about her work anymore, you were here and so was she. She was going to make it up to you. So as the tv flickered off, the lights went, just the two of you together again was enough. You held each other in the dark, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ear as you both nodded goodnight.

[4dtk]

hi! can I request for haechan with hand-holding 3, kisses 7, touching 5, 8, and 20. was kinda thinking of a mafia au plot, where reader is kidnaped and tries to protect him from being wounded when he comes to save her, but gets severely injured instead :”) hehe it’s okay if ure not comfortable w the plot though, you can just freely write w the prompts hehe! i rly love your writings!! tysm <3

i used organisation instead of mafia btw. thx tokyorev for the inspo LMAO. sorry no smut lately i usually like to write it when i'm relaxed but lately my schoolwork is annoying so i'm settling for shorter works involving fluff and angst! </3

hand-holding, 3: cold hands in warm hands

kisses, 7: passionate kisses

touching, 5, 8 & 20: feeling their pulse, shielding the other with their body, bandaging/stitching up an injury

warnings: mentions of killing, mention of guns, reader gets stabbed

“(y/n)! shit, shit, shit, where’re you?”

all throughout the warehouse, it only echoes with haechan’s voice, adamant on finding you himself while the members outside worry on whether their leader would get out safely.

frankly, at first, they couldn’t understand why he would bring home and love a partner where they were on top of the world as the country’s most dangerous organisation. some were against it, listing reasons that you would just slow him down, you would turn him soft, and they were never heard of again with one clean shot to the chest.

since then, no one’s questioned lee haechan, finally understanding how after every mission, you would be there to greet him with a beam on your face and a first aid kit at the ready. how you were the only one could get his shoulders to loosen and the clench of his jaw to relax. you made him feel like a little kid in love for the first time, with butterfly touches that differs from how heavy a gun feels in each of their hands.

“…ck! hyuck! ‘m here-!” coughing, all you can manage are a few words which happens to lead your lover to where you were. he was good as gone when he sees you, bruised and beat up that his mission right after was to leave no survivors, especially to the person who’d kidnapped you. for now, he’d keep his rage at bay, crouching down immediately to cut your wrists and ankles lose.

“h-hyuck, cut my ankles first, please?” it was a weird request, but haechan obliged, driving his pocket knife through the rope repeatedly that you begged for him to hurry internally as the perpetrator slowly emerges from the shadows. it was enough to send shivers through your bones, but at least he only did this to lure haechan out.

the other had no intention to hurt you, save for a few punches, but you made sure he did.

once haechan’s knife cuts right through, you’re onto your feet as the kidnapper lunges forward with the knife, drawing out a pained noise out of you as you feel it dig into your gut. blood spills from your mouth, staining the man’s face as the shock gradually registers. the warehouse resonates with a single shot and a body hitting the floor.

haechan catches you, both indifferent and frantic to the blood spilling from your torso since he’s seen it all, yet it’s coming out from you of all people.

“(y/n)…?” his voice is small, holding you up by your upper body as you try not to wince at the searing pain. your boyfriend can barely contain himself when his hand goes up to your neck to check your heartbeat, sighing in relief (too early) that he goes into panic mode again when your head starts to loll around in between consciousness.

“oh god, oh god,” he mumbles, hands suddenly fumbling all over each other that he doesn’t even dare touch your body. once he does, your hands to be exact, he realises you’ve gone cold, absolutely freezing to the touch and he curses before ripping a part of his outfit, draping the cloth gently over you as he secures it at the back. his hand is back on yours after a second, but you’re not there to reassure him, hearing the ends of an anxious cry.

“you gotta stay with me, love- they’re losing it, fuck.”

before everything blacks out.

your vision is barely working when you come to, coming to face the focused expression of haechan where his face almost touches your torso. there’s a strained groan from you, soon realising that he was stitching up your wound. it was disgusting to look at, but even being his partner didn’t automatically make you invicible.

you still suffered the wounds, whether it be by a crazed ex of his or a rival organisation looking to remove haechan forever. you were always going to be caught in the crossfire. haechan dresses the stitch, keeping his eyes trained on the skin there.

“why’d you do it?”

you almost didn’t catch it, “i was the one to see him first. i didn’t want you hurt, hyuck.”

he frowns deeper at the simple explanation, frustrated by how easily you'd throw away your life. how easily you’d protect a lowlife like him.

“...were there others at the warehouse?”

haechan sighs, “no, as far as i’ve walked, he was he only one there. the rest were disappointed, i'll tell you that much.”

that elicits a laugh from you, a laugh that haechan feels warm from the inside as killing after killing becomes more insignificant the more he spends time with you. wordlessly, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you, unknowingly finding out that there was tears lining the corner of his eyes. you kiss him, feeling the protest die on his lips.

haechan melts just like the first time, letting the tears flow free as he holds tight onto the sheets of his bed, afraid to touch you. pressing into you, he deepens to kiss with just his head, pulling away when you whimper at a bruise.

“i’ll never let this happen ever again,” the other whispers as he rests his forehead on yours. never feeling this peaceful, you find yourself believing him as he mutters those words.

“i know you won’t, lee donghyuck.”

[goldenkirstein]

i'd be home with you

or alternatively, jean has a bad day at work, and you pamper him

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

zuzu requested: Modern AU Jean/fem reader where Jean comes home after a really long day at work (his shift ends later than yours does so you always come in a few hours before him) He's in a rly pissy mood but you think it's adorable so you give him a nice tight hug and he relaxes a bit 😭 then you coax him towards the bedroom so you can pamper him, asking him to place his head on your lap so you can rub his temples until he falls asleep...

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 2.2k+

tags: fluff, some angst (?) modern! au, female reader, language, mentions of food.

a/n: this was so much fun to write, I love jean and always wanna take care of him bhsbhsbh, i changed up some things to make it fit, and it kinda got a teeeeensy but angsty but not too much. i hope you enjoy.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You outstretched your arms, eyes glancing over to the clock in the corner of the living room.

Jean should be home soon.

The sound of the ticking clock filled the room as you laid back down on the couch, the side of your face pressed against the cool leather of the armrest, fingers lazily grazing over the pale white stitches, the bumps and ridges comforting you while you waited for your husband to come home.

Not too long after, you heard the familiar noise of the keys jingle against the doorknob, prompting you to shift your body to watch Jean as he walked through the front door; your lips quirked into a gentle smile, and you got up to greet him.

However, you noticed that he wasn’t his usual cheery self today. Weariness was clear as day on his face. He raised his eyebrows at you, the only indication that he acknowledged your presence.

He struggled to slip off his shoes until eventually sighing and reaching down to untie them, hair falling in front of his face, he cursed under his breath. You let out a giggle, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth, suppressing the noise.

“What are you laughing about?” He furrowed his brows, following your eyes until he realized you were staring at the socks peeping out of his shoes.

Tiny fried eggs decorated the navy socks he was wearing. He looked back up at you, an amused expression on your face, still trying to suppress your laughter.

His shoulders drooped, and he scowled at you, “knew I shouldn’t have worn these dumb socks today.”

You frowned and made your way over to him, “aww, baby, I wasn’t laughing at you, and hey, you love those socks! You look so cute with them on! ”

Jean turned his face away from you, “I’m not cute,” your frown deepened, and you brought your hand up to his face, causing him to look at you. Your wedding band was cool contrast against his cheek.

“Sure you are, my love. Did you not have a good day today?” At that, his eyes fluttered shut. He brought his hand up to remove yours; however, his hand lingered, resting on top of yours.

“Gonna take that as a no then.”

He nodded in agreement before opening his eyes and dropping his hand. You traced your fingers on his cheek until moving your arm around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Jean wrapped his arms around your torso, relaxing into your touch. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his cologne, “missed you today, baby.”

You felt him release a deep breath, and you moved your hand to run your fingers through his hair. He hugged you tighter in response to your action, “missed you too.” His voice a low grumble.

Jean let go first, mumbling a quick thank you, and he gave you a slight smile, the first sign of happiness you could see on his face since he walked through the door minutes prior.

He began to bend down to finish taking off his shoes before you stopped him, “Nuh-uh, come with me.”

You gently tugged him up by elbow before clasping his hand in yours, leading the both of you into your bedroom. He opened his mouth in protest, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, hun? Someone requires some T.L.C.” Pronouncing every letter with a slight lilt in your voice, you turned your head to smile at your husband; his eyebrows were still furrowed, shoulders carrying the weight of the day on him. You knew that if you left Jean to his own devices, he would end up bottling his feelings and act like nothing was wrong.

Your feet padded gently into the room; Jean followed suit. He pulled at your hand to let him go, but you weren’t giving up that easy. He was a stubborn man, no doubt about it, but after years of being together, when it came to Jean, you were just as headstrong.

Smoothing your palm over the soft beige bedsheets, you sat down, tapping your clothed thigh, “come lay down; you’ll feel better if you do.” You watched the man in front of you clench his jaw, tired, hazel eyes gazing into yours.

“I haven’t even taken my shoes off yet.” He sighed; your only response was to tug him closer to your seated frame. Pouting your lips up at him, you watched him chew the inside of his cheek before finally obliging.

“See, that wasn’t so hard” You grinned as you saw Jean sit down next to you and lay his head in your lap, ash brown hair splaying across your thighs. He hummed in content when he felt you run your fingers through the hair near his temples. “You wanna talk about what happened?” Jean shook his head, furrowing his brows once again. You swiped your thumb over the creased skin, causing his expression to soften.

He blinked his eyes up at you, “you don’t have to do this; I’m fine.” He tried to get up, but you pressed your palm against his chest, eyes pleading. You tilted your head at him, gazing with tenderness before hunching over to lightly kiss his forehead.

“Let me take care of you, Jeanie? Please?”

He laid back down, allowing you to rub his temples, taking away the pain of the day. It was the least you could do; on days where you felt unloveable, Jean would be there for you, holding you, whispering reassurances in your ear, delicately reminding you of his love and lending his strength to you when you needed it. So, while it pained your heart to watch Jean feel less than, it was second nature to you; you would always be there for him when he needs it.

The repetitive movements of the pads of your fingers against his head were soothing him, Jean’s eyelids were heavy, the time he spent with his eyes shut getting longer and longer with each passing minute.

“Haven’t taken my socks off.” He whispered, sleep overtaking him; his speech was slightly slurred.

“Don’t worry, you just sleep.” You continued massaging his head until his breathing steadied, eyes no longer opening. You smiled at the sight; he looked so peaceful and beautiful when he slept. Pausing your movements, you bent down and gave him another kiss on his forehead, smoothing the hair on his head.

You lifted him off your lap, sliding out from underneath him, and softly placed his head down on a pillow, careful not to disturb him. He shifted, turning to face the window next to the bed. The sun was beginning to set, and the slivers of orange light peeking through the curtains dusted over Jean’s face.

“My beautiful boy.” Warmth spread over your chest as you watched your husband rest, content that at this moment, his worries were not plaguing him.

You slid off his shoes, chuckling at the sight of socks once more. Jean had called the socks dumb, but you knew that he loved them. When you got them for him for his birthday, you remembered how he laughed when he unwrapped the package; the sound rang through the air, causing you to giggle at his reaction, before he reached over to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, murmuring a soft thank you through a wide-toothed smile.

After pulling off his socks, you quietly got him out of his dress shirt and pants and slipped a pair of sweatpants over his legs before drawing the comforter over his body and placing a kiss on his shoulder.

--

Jean awoke to the smell of spices wafting in from the kitchen; he rubbed his eyes. It was dark outside. He wondered how he got into bed; the last thing he remembered was him laying in your lap.

Oh.

The young man felt a wave of guilt wash over his body. He realized that he was wearing sweatpants, his office attire neatly hanging in the closet adjacent to him. Jean groaned and pulled the covers off his body; had he been sleeping all this time? You were working away in the kitchen, you even took off his shoes, and here he was, lazing away like a dog.

It was pathetic, he thought, making you take care of him just because he had a bad day at work. Jean stepped out of the bedroom; stretching out his limbs, he made his way over to the kitchen, the smell of food getting more robust with each step.

You turned when you heard the soft padding of his feet against the kitchen tile, “you’re awake! Did you sleep well?” You beamed at him before turning your attention back to the stovetop.

He padded over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you seriously don’t have to do this; I’m alright.” His voice husky, vibrating against your back.

You shifted your body to look at him, quizzical expression painting your face, “why won’t you let me pamper you? Don’t you deserve that?”

Jean was silent.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Jean.” Your hand left the handle of the pan and held onto the hands around your middle. “Let me carry some of that burden. Let me.”

“It’s not fair.” Jean’s eyes between yours and the food on the stove.

“What’s not fair, baby? You take care of me when I’m sick when I can barely get out of bed. Isn’t that the vow we made to each other?” You paused, watching as Jean’s head fell into the crook of your neck. “I won’t love you any less, and I certainly will not let you act like everything is fine when it’s not. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but just allow me to look after you.”

“You tell me how much you love me every day, so let me show you how much I love you through this, okay?”

Jean wondered what stars aligned for him to find someone like you. He still felt guilty, but he knew that arguing would be futile, so he finally succumbed, “I love you.”

His mouth curled up into a slight smile; he meant it every time he said it, even when the both of you had been arguing or when you left for work, he meant it every single time.

You didn’t think it was possible, but your heart grew in fondness for Jean, “I know.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before returning yours to the handle.

Jean’s stomach grumbled, causing him to groan. You let out a laugh, “See, I knew you hadn’t eaten at work. Go sit; I’ll finish up this Omurice.”

He slipped his arms away from your waist before going to sit on the stool near the kitchen island, head resting on his propped-up palm, watching as you plate up the food.

His eyes twinkled with adoration, the guilt in his chest dissipating as he noticed how much care you’re putting into the meal. There was a time that Jean didn’t think he was worthy of being loved, but having you in his life pieced him back together again.

You made your way over to him, handing him a fork and setting down the plate. Your husband took it from your hands, giving you a questioning look, before taking a bite. His eyes widened, “this is really fucking good, here try some.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, glad that he liked the food; Jean brought the fork to your lips, which you opened, the warm rice and luscious egg filled your mouth, you shut your eyes, savouring the taste, "holy shit."

Jean laughed at your surprise, taking another bite of the food. You went over to a drawer to grab a fork before sitting next to him to eat.

When both of you finished your meal, you stood up to grab the plate to clean it. However, Jean halted you before you could pick it up, "let me."

His voice came out a gentle whisper, but it was sincere; you nodded your head, relaxing back in your seat, watching as the man went around the kitchen island to clean the utensils.

He worked swiftly in silence. After drying the plate and placing it in the cupboard, Jean looked up at you, "thank you for this."

"You don't have to thank me, my love."

He blushed at your words, "still, I'm so lucky to have you; I don't know if I tell you that enough."

You stood up and made your way over to Jean, his hands rested on your hips, and you moved your fingers to brush away the few strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes. He smiled tenderly at you before pulling you closer to him by your hips.

He pressed his lips against yours, and you reciprocated the kiss, soft lips melding against each other. His hands travelled up your sides, eventually cupping your face. You smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"I'll love you always, Jean." Your hands came up to hold his, and you turned your cheek to press a kiss into his palm.

"I know."

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this !! any feedback is appreciated !! i'm really not sure what is going on with tagging, but if anyone knows how to fix the issue of certain people not being able to get tagged that would be super helpful !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu, @clean-soap

click here to join my taglist

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this, I appreciate it lots <33

[not-so-anonymous-scotch]

m/m (Bdubs/Arkas), alcohol consumption, prompt "red wine stained lips"

another drabble... badly wanted to expand on this but it was good to do something short again, cuz i dont rly know where this would go anyways lol. feel free to send me more mindcrack suggestions from this prompt list! otherwise i may just keep doing random ones that interest me....

“Ah! There you are-” Arkas was greeted swiftly by Bdubs the moment he opened the door to their office. “was just about to sit down.”

With a thump, Arkas dropped his satchel near the door with a huff. “Sorry, I was just gathering up some of the left over blocks from the build.”

There was a clink of glass as Bdubs turned back, gliding over to the small end table in the lobby of the Building Co. Arkas was quick to slump down into one of the chairs beside the table, far more exhausted than Bdubs was, with all the running back and forth to put materials away.

“That's why we're going to relax, and celebrate. To my first contracted build of the season, done.” Bdubs grinned, a dark green bottle of wine clasped in his hands.

There was no pop of a cork- it was already opened.

Arkas huffed, glancing from the bottle and back up to Bdubs. “Did you already start without me?”

Bdubs hummed as he poured as glass for the two of them. “Maybe.”

The smile said enough, but Arkas leaned in when he went to grab his glass. He took a sip, eyeing Bdubs as he looked down at his own drink. Arkas' eyes flickered to his lips, where he could see the slight darkened stain of red wine.

When Bdubs looked back up, locking eyes with Arkas, his lips turned in a smile. “You were taking a while!!” He paused as he took a long sip from the glass in his hands. “And you offered to help, so...”

Arkas rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair. “You said I could take whatever I wanted- couldn't miss out on getting some extra dirt.”

“Oh, yes- dirt is so hard to come by these days.” Bdubs gave a loose chuckle. “But don't worry Arkas, I got plenty waiting if you need more.”

There was a chime to their glasses as they bumped them together, one near empty.

[lilolilyr]

Just thinking about Nerys/Jadzia/Lenara in my college AU rn... So many feelings...

Submitting this rant to @discoveryfemslashfortnight under the 'Free Choice' prompt!

spoilers for the fic below the cut!

~

Dax and Lena would invite Kira into their relationships with open arms, of course their marriage is open but it's not just that, Jadzia has been pining after Kira for ages and didn't know that Kira felt the same because in some ways they are such opposites in how they act, Kira is watching from the shadows trying to catch her eye while Jadzia is in the middle of everything trying to catch her attention, and for ages neither spoke to the other, always in each other's orbit but never within arm's reach, and as soon as they finally talk sparks fly... And Lenara sees how much Kira means to Dax and resolves to get to know her better, and she quickly grows to appreciate Kira and her dry wit that comes out when she isn't so in awe of finally being around Jadzia anymore or when she's just around Lenara, they don't really have much in common when it comes to jobs or hobbies but they both have strong opinions about a lot of things and while Jadzia often likes to pull a discussion back to safer shores to see the funny side of things, Nerys and Lena can get lost in political discussions and arguments, typical leftist infighting that can get quite heated at times, but neither of them minds, as they can both tell they agree on the topics that matter... Jadzia still half lives on campus in her small dorm room that she shares with a roommate and pays for herself instead of completely moving in with Lenara both because it's more practical (she doesn't need to get up so early on days with morning classes when she's already on campus) and because she's someone who needs her own space, but Kira gradually moves into the city flat, and two semesters later she doesn't renew her lease on her own dorm and instead officially moves in... It's Dax who suggests in, and Lenara immediately agrees, and that's when Nerys finally believes that she's a real part of this relationship, not just casually dating the married couple but in love and loved by them... She tells Lenara to go to sleep when she stays up too late working, Lena makes her breakfast in bed some mornings, or sometimes Dax surprises them both with breakfast (more likely because she's Still awake than because she's awake Already, of course), Nerys lets Jadzia drag her into wild adventures, and she introduces the both of them to her friends especially to Michael, Jadzia finally gets some close friends who aren't just college and party friends but people she can actually talk to, and Lenara lets them drag her away from her studies and to gettogethers (sometimes, at least)... They have so many similarities and so many differences as well, and they are good for each other, both because they just fit together and because they're actively trying for just that, they want to be good together, want it to work out, and their love never stops growing <3

Tl,Dr: I'm feelin lonely and I wish I had two gfs or a wife and a girlfriend and I'm projecting heavily onto those three <3 rly shouldn't write university AUs I know how that always ends for me xDxD

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Writting request!

Hels!Impulse taking regular impulses place n stuffing him in like a closet or somethin-

N someone who's sus of him (maybe iskall?) Finds the real impulse.

Now to unmask the fake.

okay so a few quick things:

1) this ended up a LOT longer than i expected lol so i apologise for that, it’s over 2k words

2) i also didn’t entirely stick to every detail in the prompt because i had an idea i rly liked and i wanted to roll with it, so i’m rly sorry if it’s not as good as you were expecting

3) anyway i hope it’s good! it was a lot of fun to work on

...

  Impulse is working on the redstone of his pumpkin and melon farm in his base when he spots a shadow moving around right at the corner of his vision. Frowning, he leaves his task and heads out into the main part of the base, looking around. “Hello?” he calls cautiously. “Grian, if this is you again…”

  He gets no response. 

  Just as he starts to turn back, thinking he just imagined it, something slams into him and knocks him into the wall, stunning him. He looks sharply up to find…

  ...himself. 

  Impulse’s eyes widen. “Wh-Who are you?!”

  The new Impulse has his arms crossed and a malicious grin on his face. “My name is Impulstor. I’m your Hels counterpart. And I’m going to take over your life as my own.”

  “W-Wait, what?!” 

  Before Impulse can move, Impulstor seizes his lapels and drags him across the base. Impulse struggles as hard as he can but he’s still winded from being hit against the wall. 

  Impulstor takes him to one of the support pillars at the very edge of the base, which has a two by one block hole in it, left over from Grian’s secret base shenanigans a few weeks ago. Weakened, he’s unable to stop Impulstor from shoving him roughly through the gap. 

  Since the floor is a block lower than the bottom of the hole, Impulse’s foot slips and he falls heavily against the wall, hitting his head and stunning him even more. The space inside the pillar is only one block by one block, with two or three more blocks of space above his head, so as Impulse collapses, he’s forced into an uncomfortable sitting position. 

  Blinking back tears of pain and fear, Impulse tries sluggishly to escape but Impulstor bashes him on the head with his own pickaxe. 

  The last thing Impulse sees before he passes out is Impulstor blocking the gap with white concrete, trapping him in this prison.

…

  Zedaph flies over the shopping district and lands a little way off from Impulse and Tango, who are sitting on one of the benches outside town hall, chatting. As he approaches, the two look up and spot him. “Hey, Zed!” Tango calls, beaming. “Wanna join me and Impy hanging out?”

  “Yeah, sure! What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, I thought we might go give Decked Out a group run,” Tango says. “I’d have to fix things up a little bit but that shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I think it’d be epic to go in as a team.”

  “Ooh, yeah!” Impulse grins. “I always loved that game. It terrifies me, but I loved it. Those ravagers, man. I’m always on the lookout for them and it’s terrifying with the heartbeat and everything.” 

  “That was the idea,” snickers Tango.

  “I know, I know. Doesn’t make it any less terrifying, though.” Impulse grins. “Going in as a group would be great! I’d really like to do that.”

  Zedaph involuntarily takes a step back. He doesn’t know what, but there’s something off about Impulse today. There’s something different, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s known Impulse a long time, but not as long as Tango, who doesn’t seem to share his doubts. Is he misreading the situation?

  “Yeah, me too!” Tango enthuses. “You up for it, Zed?”

  “Um, actually…” Zedaph forces a convincing cough and rubs his stomach. “I feel kinda sick all of a sudden. I think the flight over here churned my insides.”

  “Oh.” Tango frowns sympathetically. “You’d better rest, then.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I need to go home.”

  “No problem, man. Hope you feel better.”

  Zedaph slowly walks away, keeping up his charade in case the others are watching. Over his shoulder, he hears Impulse say something about his ice farm, then a few seconds later, the sound of rockets are heard as the two take off with their elytras. 

  He keeps going for about a minute longer, just in case, before deeming it safe and taking off with his rockets. His heart pounding, he shoots over to Impulse’s base and after crashing through the water curtain, lands neatly on the ground inside. “Impulse?” Zedaph calls, starting to rush through the pyramid base. “Impulse, are you here?”

  Zedaph’s voice awakens Impulse. Blinking against the throbbing in his head, he bashes his fist against the wall of the pillar as hard as he can. “Ze-Zedaph! ZED!”

  Following the sound of Impulse’s voice, Zedaph locates the pillar and slices a hole in it with his pickaxe. 

  To his horror, he finds Impulse squeezed inside the narrow gap, blood still dripping from the wound in his head. 

  “Oh my god…!”

  Zedaph drags Impulse out of the pillar and lets him lie flat on the ground for a moment while he tends to his wound. Impulse doesn’t even have the strength to wince at the stinging of antiseptic. 

  “Are you okay?” asks Zedaph quietly. “How long have you been stuck in there?”

  “A-A few hours at most, I don’t really know. What’s going on?”

  “Well, fake you is cosying up to Tango. I don’t think Tango suspects anything.”

  Impulse swallows back a pang of hurt. “Oh… I-I thought he knew me better than that…”

  “To be fair, whoever’s masquerading as you is really, really good,” says Zedaph slowly. “I hate to say this, but even I barely noticed.”

  “Really? What made you catch on?”

  Zedaph hesitates. “It was more of a gut feeling than solid evidence. I dunno, there was just something about the way he talked that seemed off. It didn’t seem like you. I thought either there was something wrong with you or it wasn’t you at all.”

  “And you came to the conclusion that an imposter posing as me was more likely than me having an off day?” chuckles Impulse weakly. 

  Zedaph matches his chuckle as he starts to wind a bandage around Impulse’s head. “Again, it was just a gut feeling.”

  “Well, your gut feeling was right. Now what do we do about Impulstor?”

  Zedaph immediately bursts out a laugh. “Impulstor!” 

  Impulse gives him a look.

  Zedaph clears his throat awkwardly. “S-Sorry. Anyway, we should go and save Tango from, uh… Impulstor.”

  “Shouldn’t that be easy?” remarks Impulse. “I mean, I’M me. He’s not.”

  “Man, you didn’t see the way he was with Tango. He has to be some kind of clone of you or something; there’s no way he’s just a guy who’s studied the way you behave. It’s not about us not knowing you well enough; it’s him knowing every mannerism, every quirk, every facial tick. If it wasn’t for my random gut feeling, I doubt we’d have noticed for a really long time.”

  Impulse’s worry increases. If Tango, someone he’s known for over a decade, couldn’t even tell the difference between him and the imposter, his clone could have the whole server fooled within hours. 

  “We have to get to him away from the other hermits,” Impulse says. “The longer this goes on, the harder it’ll be to convince them I’m the real Impulse. What were him and Tango doing when you left?”

  “I think they were taking a look at your ice farm,” responds Zedaph. 

  Impulse shoots bolt upright. “Oh no! I spent ages getting that farm the exact way I wanted; he better not ruin anything!”

  Zedaph grips him by the shoulders. “Hey, easy, man. You might have a concussion.”

  “I don’t care! Tango is in real danger and so is everything I’ve ever built! I’m going over to my ice farm right now and you can’t stop me.”

  Zedaph hesitates. He knows his friend well enough to know that he really can’t stop him. “Okay, then. I’ll come with you.”

…

  “-really like this pattern,” Tango is saying, looking down at the floor underneath the ice farm. “How’d you think of it?”

  “Oh, it just came to me,” says Impulstor. “Took me a while to turn all the powder to concrete.”

  “I bet. Nice farm, dude!”

  “Thanks!” 

  Impulstor watches Tango move over to the side of the farm and look down. Tango clearly suspects nothing; if he has any doubts, he’s doing an amazing job hiding them. But Impulstor isn’t worried. From his (no, not his. Impulse’s) memories of Tango, he should be fairly easy to take down if the need arises. 

  But what he doesn’t anticipate is his ruse falling apart so soon.

  “TANGO!”

  Tango jerks and snaps his head upwards to find two figures flying towards him. He blinks in shock; one of them is clearly Zedaph but the other… It can’t be…

  Impulstor lets out a very quiet growl, before rearranging his face into an expression of shock. “Wait a sec…”

  Impulse nearly falls over in his haste as he lands, him and Zedaph getting between Tango and Impulstor. 

  “What the hell is going on?!” Tango demands. “Why are there two Impulses?!”

  “He’s an imposter,” declares Impulse, jabbing a finger at Impulstor. “He’s a fake Impulse.”

  “No, HE’s the fake!” Impulstor snaps back. “I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m the real Impulse!”

  “Oh god, this is my worst nightmare,” Tango groans. “How are we supposed to know who the real one is?”

  “Look, ask me anything,” says Impulse. “I’ll answer any question you ask.”

  “What was your first build when you joined Hermitcraft?” Zedaph asks.

  “The witch huts in season three,” say both Impulse and Impulstor at the same time, causing the former to stare at the latter in shock. 

  “Who did you team up with to do the pirate ship prank in season six?” Tango asks slowly.

  “Ren and Doc,” both Impulses say, again at the same time. 

  “What did you call your season five base?” Zedaph says.

  Again, the answer comes simultaneously from both Impulse and Impulstor: “Atlantis.” 

  “Okay, stop, stop.” Tango waves his hands. “This is going nowhere. I don’t know HOW you two have the exact same memory but clearly, we’re not gonna make any progress this way.” 

  “Hey, Impulse.” Zedaph turns pointedly to the real Impulse. “How did you get that scar on your thigh?”

  “From an arrow wound during the season six civil war,” Impulse and Impulstor reply.

  A split second later, Impulse realises what his friend is doing. He lifts his shorts leg just enough for the small scar to become visible. “This one.”

  The other three turn to Impulstor, who realises he’s in trouble here. He may have Impulse’s memories but they don’t share a body. Impulstor remembers the exact moment Impulse got that injury but he wasn’t actually there. He didn’t live it; Impulse did. 

  “Impulse, if you’re the real one, show us the scar,” Tango says sternly. 

  Impulstor hesitates, his slightly narrowed eyes flickering from Tango to Impulse. 

  Suddenly, Impulstor takes off running, deliberately slamming into Tango as he does. Tango tumbles to the ground and slides right over the edge of the farm with a terrified yell. 

  Luckily, Zedaph reacts quickly and grabs his friend’s wrist. This stops Tango from falling long enough for Impulse to take hold of his friend’s other hand, and the two pull Tango back to safety. 

  “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” gasps Impulse. “You almost went over!” 

  Breathing heavily, Tango starts to speak but cuts himself off as he finally registers the bandage around Impulse’s head. “I-Impulse, did he hurt you?”

  “What?” Impulse frowns, before remembering his head injury, which is already mostly healed. “Oh, yeah. He ambushed me in my base and knocked me out and stuffed me in the hollow space in one of my pillars for like five hours or so.”

  “Oh my god...” Tango squeezes his eyes shut. “I-I’m so sorry…”

  “Wh-What?” Impulse stares at him. What for?”

  “For not realising he wasn’t you. I should have seen it; I can’t believe I was so blind.”

  Impulse blinks. “Oh, Tango, no. Please, please don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault at all.”

  “But…” Tango’s eyes glisten with tears. “I… I’ve known you for at least ten years. Surely I…”

  “No,” says Impulse firmly. “Don’t blame yourself, Tango. Impulstor is… He’s me. Essentially.”

  “What do you mean, Impusle?” asks Zedaph quietly. 

  Impulse hesitates. “Impulstor is my Hels counterpart. He looks like me, talks like me, he has all my memories. Tango, nobody can really blame you for not noticing. Dude, I know I’m the real Impulse and even I did a double take. You know I’m not observant at all but that was taking it to a whole new level.”

  Tango gives a quiet laugh. “Yeah, you’re really not super observant. But still…”

  “And hey, at least we now have a fairly easy way to tell us apart,” Impulse adds. “He won’t be able to fool you two again. But the rest of the server needs to be warned and briefed on how to tell us apart. Will you help me do that, both of you?”

  “Of course I will,” says Zedaph immediately, putting his arm over Impulse’s shoulders. “We’re a team.”

  Tango meets Impulse’s gaze.

  Finally, he says, “I always knew you’d have an evil twin but I didn’t expect him to be LESS annoying than you.” 

  “Hey,” complains Impulse mildly. “Give me some credit for not trying to murder you.”

  Tango laughs and grabs his friend in a hug. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favourite Impulse.”

  Impulse hugs him back. “Good. Now, let’s find Xisuma and warn him about Impulstor.”

  Tango pulls sharply away from Impulse and stares at him. “Wait… Is that his NAME? Impulse plus imposter?”

  “Uh huh. Trust me, I didn’t choose it.”

  His friend bursts out laughing. “That’s GREAT! Oh my god. That sounds like something Zed would come up with.”

  “I know, right!” Zedaph laughs. 

  Impulse can’t help a laugh too. The tension and fear that’s been controlling him for the last few hours has mostly melted away now that his best friends are safe. Impulstor might still be out there but with a little luck, he won’t be able to fool the rest of the server the way he fooled Tango. He’s sure he’ll see Impulstor again, though. 

  But the real question is: how soon?