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#( except ur insecurities )

soulrph · 1 year

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i’m seeing an awful lot of people reblogging memes here and in the tags, going “i know i have some memes in my inbox” or “i promise i’ll answer the last couple of memes in a minute”, and i think we all know there’s very little i can do or say to soften the situation, so allow me to tell you the exact number of memes i have on my own rp blog, which contains precisely one muse!

i have 298 memes in my inbox.

nobody hates me for it. nobody is organizing a little mob of mutuals with pitchforks and torches to tear down my house and drag me for a shame walk through town!

they also didn’t hate me at my highest number of memes, which was 724.

we need to re-evaluate how we talk about ourselves on this site, bc frankly nobody is entitled to hate you or dislike you for a silly number in your inbox, okay? you’re a fantastic bunch of people. you’re wonderful, talented, kind and creative. you don’t go around hating others for their inbox count! nobody does! don’t allow anyone to think it’s okay for them to have a problem with your inbox, and for the love of god, stop thinking your mutuals are a pack of wolves who’ll rip you to shreds for having more than zero memes in your inbox at a time!

you are all amazing, and wonderful, and talented, but 2023 is the year we start developing a little more self-confidence! doesn’t matter if you have five or fifty or five million memes in your inbox! you’re not a bad person for having them there, because you’re not a good person for having none there at all! the things that make you good are the things that were always there, regardless of that inbox. okay? now go reblog some memes. nobody in the world with an ounce of decency and good sense will say a thing against you for it, that’s a promise! and if anyone does say a thing against you for it, that just means they’re dummies.

#OOC.#PSA.#( it makes me v sad to see you guys talking like you're at work )#( this is a hobby )#( you are here to be happy and chilled )#( idk when we became so anxious about stuff here )#( but i can guarantee you )#( the good friends won't give two craps if you have a bazillion memes or not )#( we're just people having fun )#( let's try and remember that from now on! )#( i will fight ur insecurities and ur enemies in the car park of a tesco express )#( except u don't have enemies )#( except ur insecurities )#( okay i'm cold now peace out besties be good drink water unclench ur jaw )

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ruvi-muffin · 1 year

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Sometimes i think abt that white girl i saw in my yt reels at some point that was like...

No matter how u dress someone will always complain so what do i do? (With an annoyed tone, in response to trying to consume clothes sustainably).

And... it rly dawned on me that she Really must not be used to the udea of not giving a shit abt other ppl's opinions??

I'm sorry to say, lady, but uh... the slow fashion movement was never about You??

If u wanna buy clothes second hand, that's fine? I'm not going to call u Any bad words. There's more than enough clothes to go around, that's why fast fashion is a problem At All. Anyone who says otherwise doesn't understand the issue.

#sophie screaming ''ive never once been beautiful in my life'' in the back of my mind #there rly are women out there who make their entire identity out of being desireble and accepted huh #listen lady #im sorry to say this but uh #i couldnt give less of a fuck #except im a decent human being and i care that this is smth u apparently care abt smh #if i worried abt what other ppl thought id go mad #ppl who care are either a fabrication of ur mind and subsequent insecurities #or theyre not worth ur time #if all of us only bought clothes second hand wed still be able to live a full functioning life i guarrantee it #w the caveat that finding clothes ur size can be a challenge and not everyone has the time to learn to tailor #im sorry this memory of this girl just sprang forth in my mind #i wish i could tell her to like... not care sm abt ppls opinions #like sheesh #muffin rambles #this is random i apologize

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nvuy · 21 days

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May I also propose gap moe boothill where everyone thinks you and him fuck nasty but he’s actually rlly sappy in bed and he pins ur hands down by intertwining your fingers and he looks at u like you’re a treasure and he fucks u not just for the sake of pleasure but bc he really needs to get his feelings across

mdni. you may.

he’s one of those dudes where he beats up people all day, and after a hard day’s work, he’s so excited to go home and kiss his spouse. it’s like a reward. even if he’s done nothing notable all day, and ESPECIALLY if a mission is a bust.

he’ll come home skipping pretty much. be prepared to be picked up and spun around like he hasn’t seen you in three months.

the dynamic is basically jessica and roger rabbit.

call him your wife. he’ll start giggling.

there’s no place like in your arms. even if his hands are cold hard metal, he’s all over you. he’s genuinely like a lump sometimes. he’ll just lay over your lap and he will trap you against the couch like a cat if he feels like it.

same in bed, except more cuteness aggression. it’s like a virus. like something possesses him and the demons win over and he WILL start nuzzling into you and leaving all these marks on your neck. every time he sees an inch of skin, all his systems say “bite.”

he’s got his tongue buried inside you, but at the same time he’s gripping onto your thighs like a lifeline because WOW you are so soft and warm. he feels like the luckiest man alive.

he thinks you’re the prettiest thing in the universe. genuinely nobody can compare.

that pretty girl on the magazine cover? eh.

the supposed “most handsome man in penacony?” who’s lying… that weirdo can’t even come close to you.

god forbid you get insecure, or you have trouble exposing yourself to him. he’s ALL over you like sticky rice. he makes you feel like an aeon.

tldr; this is him

#$. after hours #$. love mail #$. anon #boothill x you #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail

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jiminrings · 2 months

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fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

#target audience im on my knees IM SO SO SORRY HOW R U FEELING!!!!#yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

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emmyrosee · 1 month

Note

suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!

THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷

anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️

11 with Suna… Argument 💔

There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.

It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.

Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.

“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”

“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”

You had a crush on Osamu first.

Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.

You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.

Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.

“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”

“Don’t act like you still don’t-“

“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”

He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.

Not as a genuine frustration.

“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“

“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”

“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“

“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.

The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.

“…what?” He croaks.

“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“

“Wait- no, I just-“

“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”

He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”

“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”

“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“

“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”

He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.

The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.

There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.

He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.

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iluvpjo · 2 months

Note

HII !!

HEAR ME OUT. Charlie is definitely a thigh guy,he loveeeees to just lay on ur thighs and kiss them and theyre js so squishy and UGH.

I think he'd be very sweet in general like if you had scars (Sh or just normal scars) he's definitely kiss them and tell you how beautiful they are

REMEMBER TO EAT ENOUGH AND STAY HYDRATED !! 🫂

-🌻

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓖𝓾𝔂

Synopsis: Charlie being a thigh guy, basically headcanons but also not rlly ??? Idk what this is tbh

Warning(s): IT GETS NSFW! MDNI, thigh stuff, talks abt scars, talks abt sh (in its own seperate bit so ur able to avoid it, I’ll put a warning there)

Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem reader (could be seen as GN except for one part where he calls u a sweet girl but you can just imagine otherwise if u wish!)

Word count: 528 words

Notes: I tried to write this n tumblr closed on me n didn’t save my draft ARGH 😭 but I’m so sorry I been away for a moment.. on an unrelated note last night I dreamt abt cuddling w Charlie n omfg

ALSO I’m so sorry it’s a lil short ahhh

Come find me on AO3!

Send me a request! Here’s my req rules!

(NSFW-ish!) Charlie whenever he sits beside you will always have a hand on you wether it be on your shoulder or on your knee, or other times where he’ll be squishing you’re thigh under the table in public somewhere. He of course does this at home too, and occasionally if he feels like it sometimes his hand will wander upwards. He still likes to do it nonsexually though, squeezing softly whenever he wants your attention.

(NSFW!) He would love to kiss your thighs while laying between your legs, often using it to tease you and not touch you where you need it the most. He also gets a little distracted, the feeling of your warm cushy thighs near his face can easily make him lose time. Charlie will kiss softly at your thighs, but he will also nip them gently too between his teeth just to watch you yelp and whine.

He would definitely get super hard from eating you out, I mean just in general, but especially when you cum undone and you squeeze your thighs around his head. Fuckkk he’d be in heaven, and he’d let you know that too when he dives back in for round two and has you repeating the same actions over and over. He will do it until you tell him to calm down, but if you don’t then I’m sure he’d be going on forever and ever until something inevitably disrupts the two of you.

(Scar stuff, more specifically sh) If he noticed you had scars on your thighs he wouldn’t be quick to point them out, maybe he’d spend a little extra time kissing over the marks or trailing them gently with his finger tips if they were healed. If they weren’t healed fully though maybe he’d ask about them, cooing softly for you to talk to him about what happened to make you do it. He’d leave it if you didn’t wanna talk about it though, simply comforting you with gentle kisses and cuddles.

“Don’t look at them..” You’d say, perhaps being a little insecure about them when his eyes would linger a little too long on your thighs, and Charlie would smile up at you dumbly before placing soft pecks to them and saying “Why not? Your thighs are so beautiful.” And you’d grow a little flustered. “No, they’re not, my scars-“ he wouldn’t even let you finish the thought about them, because he’d butt in and say “Your scars are beautiful sweet girl, I ‘dunno what you’re talking about..” and then his voice would get muffled n a lil quieter as he gets lost in the feeling of ur soft plushy thighs and he keeps leaving kisses all over them, his hands gripping at them like they’re his favourite thing in the world (and they are, after you as a whole of course.)

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader smut #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x reader smut #charlie bushnell x you #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #🌷 anon

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hobies-princealbert · 7 months

Note

The way im still thinking about plug!fontaine 😵‍💫😵‍💫. Now i cant help but think about Hobie and the reader getting high together for the first time (it would be her first mostly). The way u described that shotgun part in that fic was so good. And it’d hit even more different if Hobie is usually the one getting you all flustered and now you’re high off ur ass and sum purring so now u just start teasing him and saying things he likes AHH I LOVE HOBIE 🤭🤭🤭

Me toooooooo ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆ I hope I didn't stray tooooo far from the request lol

☆

high! hobie brown x high! reader | ( obvi nsfw 18+)

▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎��▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●

▪︎• you couldn't really give an explanation for why you haven't smoked weed, eaten an edible, done mushrooms or at least gotten high off your shit at least once. you weren't against them, in fact, you knew a lot about them and their medical purposes and benefits. but you still haven't try em.

▪︎• which is surprising cause most of the people you hang around consumed weed. some on a regular basis. and that includes your boyfriend. hell, you met hobie while he was smoking a joint on the balcony of some random house party.

▪︎• you remembered how when he asked if you wanted a hit, you broke into a stutter trying to explain why you declined. he just gave an understanding nod, then pulled his spliff back to rest in between his lips.

▪︎• you felt sorta insecure about it. even though it wasn't that big of a deal to anyone around you. it was to you. you felt like you were missing out on something. this feeling hit you most whenever you watched hobie smoke.

▪︎• you sat on the opposite end of the couch watching as hobie made a joint. his nimble fingers wrapped the paper so easily. like it was second nature. with a quick lick to seal, he had the blunt ready. it rested perfectly between his pretty lips as he searched his vest for a lighter. you wanted it.

"can I get a hit hobie?" he paused his search to turn his attention to you. he looked at you for a bit before he gave you a slight smirk.

▪︎• once he found where that lighter was, he motioned for you to sit closer. you did. you watched intensely as the orange glow of the fire made this all too real. you actually gonna taste your first blunt. and with your boyfriend no less.

▪︎• you felt the familiar feeling of his warm, coarse hands cupping your chin. and the other around your waist, tugging you closer to him. hobie pulled till you were seated on his lap.

▪︎• you were practically pressed to him. you felt the warmth of the blunt, sat between his lips, on the side of your face. you could tell how the blunt would taste from the second hand smoke alone.

"nothin' to be scared of doll. this shi' gonna make you feel real good, trust." he returned your quick nod, then you watched as he inhaled and pulled the blunt from his lips.

▪︎• hobie blew a cloud of smoke in your face, you quickly gathered your senses and inhaled what he gave you. you felt your breath stifle, then the coughs came. you wanted to move back, but his hold on you chin kept you in place.

▪︎• he wanted you to hold still. no running. just taking what he gives no complaints. he knows it's overwhelming, but let him do this. in no time he's gonna have you taking shotguns while he's giving you backshots.

▪︎• he did this multiple times, each time giving you a kiss each time you did better. once he was satisfied, he moved the spliff to your lips. you eagerly took a sharp inhale of smoke. you burst into a fit of coughs. it was embarrassing. you were doing so good. probably you inhaled too hard.

hobie was patting and soothing your back. once the coughs died down, he coached your breaths till they were steady again. "got a little excited huh luv?"

▪︎• he made you get a second inhale this time, he pulled it back once you had enough. you took a couple more with barely a reaction, except for the little stings in your eyes.

▪︎• he was right you do feel so much more relaxed. you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, tracing little shapes in his jaw. he hummed whenever you would suck a little too hard at his neck, or moved your hips about too much on his lap. even a couple whispered ' you're pretty baby' and 'my gorgeous 'obie'. you giggled at how bashful he looked. he never got shy.

▪︎• you don't know where your sudden urge for sex, or confidence came from. but you loved it. and so did hobie, especially since he was pushing your hips to rutt against his bulge even more.

" 's the weed makin' you act up huh darlin'. I kno'. it's 'ight, I feel it too. mhmm fuck- should do this more often huh? yea?"

▪︎• despite you teasing earlier, you could barely answer him verbally. you were too preoccupied trying to soothe your ache. you knew he could feel your cunt even through the layers of fabric. and you surely felt him too. if it wasn't for the clothes his tip would be pressed into you by now.

▪︎• soon you two became too impatient for the frivolous grinding. and that's how you found yourself with your back against his chest, legs splayed, your panties pulled to the side and hobie's cock slapping against your slit.

▪︎• you two were absolutely spent, just from the sensations alone. 'why wasn't he in you yet fuck. this shit hurts, it's just working you more.' sure the slapping was hot, but it wasn't gonna cut it.

"b-baby?"

"yea darlin'? what's wrong? too much?" you gave a let out a frustrated whine, he soon realized what his baby wanted. and he was more than happy to oblige.

▪︎• you watched as he dangled the blunt in front of you. once you took it between you lips. he gave you once last kiss on the cheek, and told you that he'll stop when the blunt goes out.

▪︎• you felt your entire body seize up as his full was slammed into you. you've taken him unprepped before, but not from his angle. the stretch was different it was like his length was pushing down in you. it felt so good.

▪︎• he kept his promise and didn't stop till the blunt finished. no matter how the ash was knocked onto your tits, he pulled out your bra just so he could grope them. no matter how you whined at how sore you were, or that his couch was messy from how much slick he forced out of you. no matter how much you babbled to him in words not even you could understand. he'd just nod along like he understood you.

▪︎• once the blunt flickered once last time, you let out a groan once you felt his length ease out. sure you were just crying that you couldn't take anymore but you also couldn't help but squeeze one last time.

▪︎• you knew you were both still high as a kite. you lazily lounged on his couch, till the high sensation ceased. once it did you made him swear to smoke with you again tomorrow, you're lucky that's the day his plug was gonna hit him up.

#atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader smut #atsv #☆° via writes °☆

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hyunsvngs · 5 months

Note

Okay wait hear me out okay.... fem!skz except chan. P P P PUSSYFEST??? bonus if theyre ur best friends and channie is ur bf... IM GONE B

lemi i have another concept.

WHAT IF chan's best friends with them all and channie is your bf. you're a little insecure because like.. what type of guy has seven female best friends right? until he tells you no, baby, they all prefer girls, and suddenly your perspective shifts. you end up getting closer to them than you intended to, and when chan proposes the idea of you having a little fun with all of them you honestly feel like you could cum without taking your panties off.

and you do, feeling cute innie's pussy grinding into yours through both of your panties. her panties are cute, pink satin, drenched with her slick and almost falling off of her hipbones with the fervence she's grinding at. you can see the beginning of the smattering of her pubic hair through your hazy eyes. you thought she'd be the innocent one, but god, she might be the worst, with that blissed out grin on her lips and her long, dark hair swept over one shoulder to expose her cute, perky tits. it's not long before you're cumming, soaking the fabric with a loud keen while she fucking talks you through it - "that's it, baby. cum all over my panties, that's it, all messy. messy girl."

when she's done with you, seungmin is a force to be reckoned with. you could've guessed that, really. your boyfriend chuckles in anticipation once seungie gets you in bed, forcing your legs to spread open and - oh. she's got this massive strap on beneath her black pleated skirt, bright pink and glaringly obviously going to be inside you very soon, and you can't wait. it's obvious you can't wait, and seungmin can't help herself, quipping "my dick must be bigger than yours, old man," and making chan groan in (faux) distain when she slides the whole thing inside of you. seungmin's hips are wild, but practiced, and she covers your mouth to silence your wails and even slaps you about a little. it drives you insane.

lixie is a little sweeter with you. she lets you finally take your time with one of the girls, letting you slide the straps of her white lace bralette off of her narrow shoulders and trace your lips down the freckles dotted across her chest. her tits are small, perky, and she coos cutely when you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple. she asks you if you'd like to try and eat her pussy, and of course you do. chan's more vocal when you're with lixie, instructing you on how to kiss her - you know she's one of the ones he's closest with, the australia connection bounding them close beyond means. when you get your head between her legs you find out she cums quicker than you did with jeongin, and it makes you feel a little better.

chan finally gets on the bed when you start making out with jisung. you sense they might have a connection, too, and it makes your pussy even wetter. she's messy when she kisses, spit and teeth and whining and wailing into your mouth. her jeans are baggy on her tiny waist and you can't help yourself from sliding your hands down them, tracing your fingers over her already soaking pussy, over her wiry pubic hair and making her keen. her hair is short, bobbed and wavy around her cute round cheeks and you feel a way you've never felt before - you want to ruin her. from the way minho is looking at you both, she wants to ruin her too.

chan has you with your back to his chest for hyunjin. it turns out hyunjin likes to take her time too, and you let her open you up with her fingers before she even gets her mouth on your clit. her hair is short and choppy, like lixie's, except dyed black and ever so soft between your fingers. hyunjin instructs chan to touch your nipples while she eats you out - it's the first time one of them has gotten chan involved, and it makes you hurtle towards your orgasm a lot quicker than you intended. her long legs splay out behind her as she buries her face in your folds, feet kicking in her cute frilly socks, moaning and groaning like you're the best thing she's ever tasted.

for changbin, you're just so fucking happy to be there. her tits are huge, nipples dark chocolate and puffy and she lets you suck on them, pulls you into a strong headlock with her bicep and moans nice and pretty for you when you swirl your tongue around her nipple like she's a damn lollipop. she wants to finger you open, wants you to finger her open, but she can't decide what she wants first - you end up splayed on top of her, her thick thighs parted and your head nuzzled into her dark, puffy folds. you sense she might be one that you want to come back to again and again, and you'll never get the image of her kissing chan to share the taste of your pussy with him out of your mind.

jisung's desperate again by the time it comes around to minho's turn. minho is fucking mean, you realise, and you're glad you left her until last. she seems to know exactly what toys to work you up with - a vibrator on your clit, a glass dildo in your pussy, a plug in your ass and all before she's even let you cum once. you fall apart on her strap, eventually, with jisung licking over your clit and making you squirt all over minho's thick thighs. she's a beauty, too - large tits settled on a toned chest, a light pink faded scar on her stomach that you'd love to ask about.

you quickly realise when you're fucking chan after and they're all watching that yeah, you want this to happen again. badly, actually.

#sooooooooooooooo #i'm sorry #i might #make a oneshot #o nthis #love you guys <3 #fem!skz #asks: ot8 #juno’s asks ♡#user: alemi-i #stray kids smut

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chococolte · 2 years

Note

PLEASEE MORE DRAGON ZHONGLI STUFF!!<3 HES SO ADORABLE I JUST WANNA KISS HIM

word count. 314

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, zhongli is insecure, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. ur wish is my command nonnie!! again, this is ambiguous, so imagine as sagau or not if u want too! also ik my reqs are closed but i will make an exception for dragon zhongli, so... if u want to req for him send it in

Your hand trail along Zhongli’s bare back, tracing the honey-dipped scales running along his spine.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur softly. Zhongli's chest rumbles, a low growl of pleasure bursting from his lips. He squeezes his eyes in embarrassment, but still leans further into your touch, arching his back in an attempt to feel the heat of your palm as closely as possible.

"Do you... truly think so?"

Zhongli's voice comes out as a soft whisper. He can't help the way his heart jumps at your words, stuttering from where it sits in his chest. His half-adeptus form was used when he was Morax, and when using it, he is only reminded of his time as Liyue's protector.

There is no erasing the things he has done. No turning back the clock and undoing the death on his hands. The geo etchings on his arm only remind him of earthen spears thrown at his enemies; his narrow pupils only reminders of the things he's seen.

When he sees the crystalline horns on his head, his first thought is that they are ugly. Hideous things sprouting from his skull. But then there you are, softly scratching at their base, rubbing their tips. You adorn them with golden jewelry and precious stones.

You kiss the markings on his arms, touching him gently as if he'll break under any pressure. You kiss right above his brows, uncaring of his serpentine eyes, staring right back at you. You kiss his mouth, treating him with care, ignoring his sharp fangs that well with venom.

If it is for you, he would happily stay in this form. If it is for you, he would happily do anything at all.

"Of course," you say, kissing his shoulder. He shudders, inhaling sharply. "Everything about you is beautiful."

Zhongli closes his eyes. Maybe this time, he'll believe you.

It's for you, after all.

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #zhongli #sagau zhongli #yandere male #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #sagau #self aware zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #zhongli cult au #gender neutral reader

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userlando · 9 months

Note

Reader w bestie lando feeling down bc he’s surrounded by more conventionally attractive girlies/people because of his profile and him listing all the positive qualities and things that he likes about them except he lets slip saying he LOVES it about them n getting all flustered stuttering and then confessing years of longing my HEART can’t handle this pls add ur thoughts vulnerable lan is my kryptonite

oh my god please 😭😭

reassurance (1492 words) best friend lando/fem!reader confessing feelings

please beware that this can have allusions/mentions of body dysmorphia, reader being insecure and self-conscious about how she looks. nothing too major, but it may trigger someone!

The both of you are standing by the kitchen counter, it’s late and Max is sleeping upstairs, oblivious to what’s going on outside his bedroom door. It had been a long night of drinking with half the grid and their respective partners, buying out a VIP section and ordering buckets of icy drinks.

It was at two a.m. that your social battery died out and so did Lando’s. You didn’t think a person could be so happy as he got when he glanced your way and caught you surreptitiously hiding a yawn behind your hand, asking if you were ready to head out. He’d only had one drink, so he drove the both of you back to his and Max’s place.

The kitchen had become your refuge, only one small lamp being the source of light as you got comfortable by the counter. Lando had, as suspected, sought out Max’s stash of snacks, ignoring your halfhearted protests because the last time he’d raided the pantry, his best friend had gotten so pissed that he’d locked it.

Normally, you would’ve joined him in the drunken snacking, giggling and carrying a stupid conversation that usually went in the direction of weird-ville, ending with ‘what type of worm would you be, if you could choose one?’

But tonight, you were staring dubiously at the bag of Walkers and packet of Hobnobs, all kinds of self-conscious thoughts swirling in your mind. You thought of earlier that night, when you’d trashed the dress you had in mind because it didn’t look right on you. You thought of how you’d gone for jeans, immediately regretting it when you arrived at the club and spotted the girls in short skirts and gorgeous dresses that looked like it was moulded for them. It was difficult to not feel some kind of way when everyone around you looked like they’d just stepped off the runway.

“You alright, peach?” Lando’s voice cut through your thoughts and you glanced up at him, hanging over the counter and chewing loudly on biscuits.

You grimaced at the nickname, one that you really hadn’t had many feelings about until recently. It had started as a joke, being photographed walking the paddock with Lando during an obscure weekend and Lando had giggled so hard that he turned red, almost losing consciousness as he read a tweet someone had posted about you.

ass so fat it looks like a peach

It had been funny, and Lando never really let it go. He’d started calling you peach ironically, until it stuck and replaced your name entirely.

But now you weren’t so sure about the positive aspects of the nickname.

Lando made a noise in his throat, swallowing dryly around the crumbs and reaching a hand out to poke your cheek. You twisted away slightly, blowing out a breath.

“Lando!”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demanded, sounding much like a defiant child.

You gave him a look. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I can see you pouting.”

“I’m not—“ You caught yourself before your blood pressure reached a new high. “Shut up.”

“Peach.” He said again and you looked down from his probing eyes, staring hard at the opened packet of Hobnobs that Max would for sure notice were missing.

“I just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to express your feelings without sounding so childish. What would you say? I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like an ogre next to your friends’ girlfriends. I hate the way I look. “I’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, that’s all.”

Lando didn’t say anything and you looked up, thinking that he might’ve missed your words completely but he was staring at you softly, so gentle that emotions almost clogged your throat up. You scrunched your nose, and Lando let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding because he knew what that scrunch meant. He knew that was something that you automatically did when you were close to tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but smile a little tearfully.

Leave it to Lando to never push, to always listen and never judge you when you were feeling every range of emotion. It always tugged at your heart. You truly loved him.

“I feel like a sack of potatoes when I see the girls.” You laughed wetly, reaching a hand up to wipe away at your eyes. Lando smiled when you unknowingly smeared your makeup. “They’re my friends and I don’t resent them for it, but it strikes me sometimes how we’re so different when it comes to looks.”

Lando frowned a little at that, placing a hand on top of yours. Palm against palm, pointer finger finding your pulse point on your wrist and resting it there. The way he always did.

“I like potatoes.” He murmured and you shot him a dry look. “But you’re right, you are different.”

That made you frown deeper, bottom lip sticking out in sadness and it broke Lando’s heart. He hurried to wipe under your eye with a thumb, smiling gently.

“You’re different because you’re my peach. You’re different in the way you treat people with so much kindness that it blows my mind sometimes. You’re different in the way you smile so hard that your eyes disappear, just like that.” You shielded your face behind your hand, letting out a laugh you couldn’t contain. “You treat me like me. Not like Lando, the driver. You shove me when I burp and you twist my arm when I tease you. And I love you for it. I love that you’re different, and I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else.”

You blinked at him, slowly letting his words sink in.

“You love me?” You asked, aware that he might’ve meant it platonically but Lando’s reaction made you stop breathing for a second.

His cheeks turned pink, palms flattening on the surface of the counter to push himself up, like he was trying to put a little distance between you two. You’d only ever seen him act this way a handful of times, eyes wide and a little panicked, tips of his ears red as he opened his mouth and closed it. Like finding the right words was suddenly difficult.

“I mean— I just meant…” His voice died, shrugging a little helplessly the longer you stared at him.

Your heart was going a mile a minute, not believing what you were seeing but if Lando was fumbling his words and shrugging like he was hoping you’d let it go, he was dead wrong. You were gonna grip this opportunity with both hands and hold on.

“Look,” He pulled a face, blowing out a sharp breath of air through his mouth. “If I tell you something, will you hold it against me?”

Fuck. It was happening, wasn’t it?

“Perhaps.” You answered, voice almost inaudible because you were putting all of your excess energy into not passing the fuck out.

Lando rolled his eyes, looking a little trapped all of a sudden and you hurriedly rounded the corner, smiling at him when he took a small step back the closer you got to him.

He glanced at the counter like he considered walking around it, putting the distance back between you two but you quickly grabbed his arm, prompting him to look at you.

“How long?” You asked, soft and quite frankly, a little stunned.

“What?” He asked but his eyes said it all.

“Lando.”

“Stop.” He laughed, sounding breathless and a little frustrated. “Stop saying my name like that.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head when he turned his gaze away. He still hadn’t pulled out of your hold though, not even when you palmed his left pectoral. You didn’t know if it was wishful thinking or your imagination, but there was a steady thud against your palm that felt a lot like his racing heart and it made you smile.

“Like what?”

Lando sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, letting it go with a tsk.

“Like you love me.” He said quietly.

It was like someone had reached down your throat and grabbed your heart, squeezing the blood out and popping the vessels. You almost gasped for breath, smile stretching your lips and Lando’s expression went from cautious to slightly hopeful.

“What if I do love you?” You asked.

“Then…” He trailed off when your hand travelled from his pec to his cheek, cupping it. “Then I’d say I love you. I’d say that I’ve always loved you.”

You let out a laugh, like the absurd amount of happiness blooming in your chest was too hard to contain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, getting on your toes to hug him properly.

“Took you long enough.” You murmured against his ear and Lando squirmed, pinching your side just to hear you squeak.

It was his favourite sound in the world.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this isn’t beta read, I wrote this in my notes app at work so I hope it’s okay 🫣 it wasn’t smut this time (sorry) but I wanted to save the juicy stuff for longer fics hehe. I hope you enjoy this xx

#zee’s asks 💌#lando brainrot #lando norris x female reader #lando norris blurb #bff!lando #f1 blurb

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

KÖNIG WITH BRAT READER PLS PLS PLS

Me myself i am a BIG brat, good luck to him trying to discipline me lmao

König is a nice man, hes sweet and stuff. So i wanna see König lose his patience. I want him to be mad at me. I want him to take out his built up anger. I requested you this because i trust your writing the most.Pls feed me i love ur blog<3

König w/ a Bratty S/O

Warnings: 18+, Nothing too Explicit TBH, Bratty Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Dominant König, Spanking, Edging, Overstimulation, Restraints, Punishment, etc.

König could handle your incessant whining, your moaning and your complaining.

At most, he usually found it endearing, perhaps even adorable when he looked past the vague hostility and saw insecurity buried within, hiding, trembling.

But then you had to go for the throat – hit him where it really hurt.

You’d had the gall to suggest that he couldn’t satisfy you – that you’d go and search for someone who could, someone who “can do it with their hands tied behind their back.”

And König snapped.

You didn’t notice it at first; the shift in the atmosphere was so sudden, the snap of a harp string – a heartstring.

And you didn’t notice König rising, his shadow eclipsing your form as you faced away, arms crossed, spouting fallacies about your neighbours who you wagered were “ten times better” in bed than him.

It was only when his chest was to your back, his bulge between your thighs, that you snapped out of your beration.

The air was thick now, begging to be sliced, dissected, with something – anything – to end its own existence.

Aside from the rising volume of your battering heart and König’s restrained, bullish breathing, it was silent. A carbon monoxide death in all but feeling. This was silent, this was invisible. And it was deadly.

No-one was around to help you; that much you gathered from the lack of voices or footsteps from your neighbours, no cars passing by on the street, no chatter except for that dying in your mind.

König’s anger bulged from his very soul. And with his face hidden behind you, you could only imagine the look of thunder that rolled across it.

König clapped a large, bearish, calloused hand upon your shoulder, and squeezed. Tighter and tighter with each passing second, he became. The thought that he could break your collarbone this way crossed your mind.

Wincing, you tried to turn around, to placate König.

He growled, gripped you by both shoulders now, and kept you facing forwards, pushing you.

“Go on, Darling,” he hissed. It was not a request. “Keep going.”

You were unsure as to whether he meant to keep goading or keep walking, but you weren’t taking any chances.

König marched you to the bedroom, his wall of a body making escape an impossibility.

This was going to be a long night.

NSFW:

König’s veil stays on during punishment.

It’s his way of letting you know that your loving boyfriend is gone; no human soul exists in this vessel anymore.

Ties you to the bedposts. He’s not giving you a moment of reprieve, nor a chance to defend yourself.

Spanks you with a thick belt he keeps hidden away in the wardrobe, which he bought specifically in anticipation for your insufferable behaviour.

Makes you tell him you love him as he’s beating you.

Gives him a sense of power that he can force your love in some way, whether you love him or not (you do; but for the sake of this segment, you usually pretend you don’t. König knows you’re lying, though).

He’ll see your backside red and inflamed before he lets up, and even then it’s because he’s moving on to the next phase of your punishment.

Edges you. Constantly.

And König has the restraint to keep withdrawing whenever he feels you’re close.

He doesn’t want you feeling even a second’s worth of relief. Not after the way you spoke to him.

And, eventually, after hours of edging, he’ll finally let you finish.

But don’t be mistaken; this isn’t the end.

There’s a dark glint in his eye as you’re left panting, sweating, almost crying.

“Oh, Darling,” he says, brushing a sodden lock of hair from your forehead. Faux reassurance. “We’re not done yet.”

Overstimulation Central.

You’ll be absolutely weeping as König slams into you, your already sensitive body forced to bear the pounding shocks he sends through you, even when you plead with him to stop.

“Can’t satisfy you, can I?” König says, mockingly. “Then tell me who’s filling you right now – tell me who you belong to.”

“You, König! You, you – only you!”

Your throat will have run raw with how you scream König’s name, his body caging yours beneath it.

It’s his way of telling you you’re his.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig x reader #konig smut #konig x y/n #konig x you #konig x yn #könig x reader #könig smut #konig headcanons #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 fanfic #konig mw2 #cod konig

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elliescumsock · 2 months

Note

not sure if youre taking requests but if so I'd love to see a headcanon of how u think ellie would react to reader who is insecure about their appearance. dealing with insecurity about my acne rn I just need someone to tell me I'm pretty haha 🫣

a/n : idk who you are but UR STUNNINGGG!!! acne got nothing on your pretty face hun. ty for the request!

palestine masterpost | free donation!!!

please do not buy the last of us and do not support neil druckmann, he is a zionist.

from the river to the sea palestine will be free.

she would probably find out about your insecurities through tiktok reposts, deciding to have a little look only do discover her pretty girl doesn’t think shes so pretty after all

oh it would break her heart! because whattt? to ellie your the most beautiful thing on this goddamn planet. she fully believes you were heaven sent just for her!!!

she would make it her duty to compliment you 10 x more than she already does

but when she sees you still repost stuff about being insecure she decides she has to bring it up to you

she would be soooo sweet about it. not pushing you to talk about anything but also hoping you do because she doesn’t want you to think of yourself any other way than she does. perfect.

when you finally started opening up to her she would genuinely be close to tears. she hates seeing the people she loves upset especially you

would talk to you for as long as you need her to

would tell you how acne is a natural thing, most people get it at some point! but just because yours may be “worse” than others doesn’t mean you aren’t still absolutely gorgeous

“baby, i love you just the way you are! acne or not. you are literally perfect in my eyes and i would not change a thing about you! except your last name…but thats a talk for another time😀” (shes so cringe i love her sm)

she would also not hesitate to start shit with anyone who said something about your insecurities

all in all shes just the cringiest loser with the biggest most loving heart and pours all that love onto you💕

again, sorry this is short! but remember YOU ARE PERFECTTT!!!! don’t ever feel insecure about something that is natural. i suffer with a skin condition so i understand how it feels but dont ever let it dull ur shine baby♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

hope you enjoyed!

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #the last of us #ellie williams headcanons #lesbian #comfort #fanfic

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rubywithecat · 10 months

Text

-First Night With Them-

(T/W: Minors do not interact as mature contents are included)

Summary: U are forced to marry them by your parent and feel shy for the first night with them after wedding as u are completely strangers to them.

Gojo Satoru

Waiting for him on the lavish bed in the new mansion u just moved, u were nervous. Gojo is so handsome and u thought u were going to marry an old ugly man as u only knew how rich he was. How can a person be both good-looking and rich and have a cool style. He is just a definition of perfection. U felt insecure now. What if he doesn’t like ur body? What would he think of u? Will he ever love u? Are u good enough? U had many thoughts about urself. Meanwhile, the door opened as Gojo walked inside the room after he had showered.

He looked at u lying on the bed in lingerie and smirked slightly. He doesn’t say anything tho he made a move onto the bed, coming close to u. U flinched and closed your eyes tightly. However, he held ur waist slowly and his fingers lifting up your face, making u look into his pretty blue eyes. “I want u to be a good girl for me tonight” he said. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I promise this won’t hurt” U gulped. But encouraged urself to say a word finally, getting a lil comfortable near him. He seems like a good person after all. And he is ur man now. U smiled with ur glossy lips and whispered into his eyes, “Please go slow. I like it slow and long” Gojo chuckled, proud of u for the courage to say what u would like.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I already said I will make u feel good, right?” He said as he slowly undressed u. “Ahh…Gojo” u moaned. “Gojo? Call me with my name bby. Don’t be a stranger” as he said u can feel him frowning. “Im sorry.. ah fck.. Satoru” u said again as his fingers slipped inside u. “Don’t c*m before me ok? That’s the only rule” he said as he undress himself. U guys finished at the same time after and he came on ur stomach. After that he laid next to u sleepily, his silvery hair being messy “U are so good and beautiful u know that, bby?” He said with his sleepy voice which is super hot. U were beyond happy by his praises and cuddled with him. He smiled and playing with ur hair as u guys having a chat, getting to know each other more.

Nanami Kento

“I would understand if u wanna sleep in separate bed” he said. He really is a gentleman u thought. But u decided that u will be playful with him. U bit ur lips and leaning closer to him. “U wanna leave ur newly wife alone Nanami?” U teased, looking at him with doe eyes, which he cannot resist. U could feel him turning red and blushed. “I mean if u wanna” he said, pretending he doesn’t realized anything that’s happening. Ur thighs on his laps as u face with him and being touchy around his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. Normally u don’t go flirty with any guys but he is ur husband after all and he is really cool and u completely melt at his serious personality.

Even tho it was an arranged marriage, u kinda felt lucky that u marry him. Tonight, u wanna go wild with him and make him breed u with his baby. It’s him who is feeling shy and u kinda like about that and u planned to go beyond his limit to tease.

Nanami knows ur intention and at last he couldn’t endure anymore. The way u looked at him with lust, turn him on so much that he now fck u with all his strength, rough and fast. He is so good that ur brain can’t think of anything except screaming his name and finished with all his c*m into ur womb.

In the morning, when u wake up he already left for work but he doesn’t forget to leave a lovely letter about how he enjoyed and he loves u. U smiled at it and maybe he is shy about telling u in person. U stood up to make the best meal for ur newly husband.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is being a lil cocky here. He would not give a fck about u being ok with it or not, he would do anything to satisfy his need. After all, he had married once and he knows what to do. He told u to strip urself and fingers u as soon as u laid on him. “I know how to make u feel good so follow my lead, angel” he would say. He would be comparing of how good u r or not with his ex wife, which makes u go crazy and prove him that u are way better than his ex wife.

After that, he would leave u all the hickey, leaving marks on visible area that u are now his. U love the idea of it and u love him too. He can be a jerk but he also loves u so much in first sight. U forgive him as he gave u the best night after all.

Megumi Fushiguro

He is rather doesn’t care about what is supposed to do at wedding night at all. He just went straight to his practice. He doesn’t talk to u at all, thinking u don’t wanna be talked. U were confused about his actions and as u haven’t known him at all yet, u thought he is being a jerk. U called ur bestfriend on video call as u were bored, alone in bed room. “I think he is fcking asshole!” U said frustratedly to ur bff. “He doesn’t even look at me into eyes and I think he doesn’t want me. I feel so sad” U told her, without realizing he was standing behind u leaning the door, maybe hearing all the gossips u told about him.

Ur friend giggled and just hang up, wishing good luck with a hateful smirk. “Hey!! Don’t hang up!” U yelled as u don’t know what u r supposed to do. U could sense him, walking near u and from behind he said, “I’m sorry about that. I just thought u didn’t wanna talk to me as this marriage was arranged so soon so we didn’t get to know each other yet” U felt embarrassed.

“I know… I’m just…” u sighed, facing him. “Either way, we are still husband and wife so we should try our best at least dont u think?” U said in sad tone. He suddenly kissed ur lips softly, catching u off guard. “I’m so sry if I make u sad (y/n). I wanna get to know u more to be honest, I’m just feeling nervous around u. U gives me butterfly as soon as I saw u” he admitted.

Then u kissed him back and he lifted u to the table of his study and held ur hips tightly. “I want u” he whispered which makes u turn on. “I want u too, Megumi” u said as u grabbed his shoulder and hugged around the neck. “Make me yours” u said and he didn’t go gentle with u. He is a dominant type after all but still he knows ur need and also surprisingly, he reached ur soft spot fast and then finished quickly. “Next round, angel” he smirked, whipping his c*m on ur face.

Yuuji Itadori

He would be the most caring about u. He would ask u if u wanna watch movies with him or watch the stars in the sky at the balcony with him. U agreed to watch the stars at the balcony in his hoodie as u haven’t unpacked fully after moving. His smells felt like vanilla and he would be listening when u talk about urself, getting to know with u. He also tell all about himself and he seems to be a really good person that u fell in love immediately about his purpose of life and his cares about others.

After a while, u become cold so he held u tightly and silent occurs between u guys. U really wanna kiss him and he wanted to too but just awkward. U decided to make a first move and kissed him. He was surprised but kissed u back and then u guys the kiss became passionately. U got all shy after that and blushing. “Do u wanna go inside?” He asked. You nodded and then he carried u to the bedroom where he started to kiss u from ur sensitive areas around neck once u get laid down on the bed. Ur moaned made him crazy and he even left sone bite marks and tells u that he really likes u a lot and how he is so lucky to have u as his partner. He goes super gentle and takes good care of u too. “I’m c*mming” u said as rolling back ur eyes. He also finished at the same time, laughters filled with joy.

Sukuna Ryomen

He is kinda so demanding. He would tell like what women are supposed to do and have to give a child. He is so traditional and will even go as far as asking u if u r a virgin:)

“Ofc! I’m a virgin! But do u really need to ask?!” U got sensitive to how he treats u. He would smirked and laughed about how u got all shy and angry with him. He finds it cute tho. But he would tease u like how u turn on just by his touches and u got embarrassed. He would tell u to verbally say how good he is when he fck u and he is also so possessive type. However, when he would treat u like his queen as yk he is the king of curses after all. He finished right inside u and u could feel the warmth of his c*m. He kissed u deeply and fell asleep.

Hope u enjoy! Likes, shares and comments would be really helpful! Thanks babies! <33

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gwojo · 4 months

Text

Gojo Satoru as your bf

FEATURING: Gojo Satoru (五条悟)

gojo satoru x gn!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, basically just the things he'd do for you bc of how much he luvs u! wordcount: 622

We all know THEEEEE gojo satoru is so whipped when it comes to being in-love?! Some probably think he'll be clueless but when it comes to you, he's so knowledgeable with everything related to you

It started off as a lil crush on you and obviously we all know gojo is shameless when it comes to his feelings (except for dark and deep ones) so he kept on reminding u everyday that he had a interest on you

You both end up with each other while his students were also cheering you both on (it was so cute bc yuji was the happiest)

We all know gojo satoru is a very busy man, despite that he still makes time just to see you everyday, even making the higher ups angry due to him leaving his students in a abandoned hospital and he'd leave just to travel to you and see you.

Messages between you both weren't frequent, he will always find a way to see you irl but whenever he has to go overseas as his punishment for leaving his students without any supervision, that's where your notifications are FLOODING. LIKE NONSTOP.

Although he's at work at most times, he still somehow messages you??? like a lot?? so you ask him about it and he tells you that he messages u even when he's on a battle with cursed spirits

Honestly there would be more voice messages or calls in both of your dms because I reckon he's more of a call guy rather than a text guy

He'd always rant to you about how annoying the higher ups are and stuff, he's SUPER talkative but he always lets you speak first or after so you don't feel left out bc he rlly loves hearing ur voice

He's much of a "if he wanted to, he would" typa guy and honestly even if he didn't want to do it he would still do it for you, like even HIS FAVORITE Kikufuku he would still give it to you because of how much he loves you, he acts stingy most of the time but he'll always end up giving it to you

Whenever you have panic attacks or just anything general with having a bad day which results you into getting breakdowns, he'd always be there for you no matter what. Kisses and hugs, food, everything you ever loved, and him ofc

He never hated anything about you honestly, he just loved who you are and whenever you get insecure about the girls who chases him–he always end up flexing his wallet and his phone in front of their faces, why? because your face was plastered everywhere in it. LIKE EVEN HIS PHONE CASE IS YOU TAKING A MIRROR SELFIE, polaroid pictures were frequent with u (he keeps a pic of u in his wallet and also his students, even tho he doesn't use wallets.)

He'd call you "love, baby, sugarboo" most of the time, he's just so silly. He's a unserious guy tbh but he knows when to stop and where to stop whenever you actually get upset

Whenever he's upset because he got jealous when you were catching up with your bestfriend, he would stop talking to you or ignore you once you got home (trust me. he won't last after 20 minutes max.) so he gets all pouty but partially its a joke because he really trusts you with all his heart and he knows you won't replace him but he also gets upset and just a little kiss from you, he'll be back to normal (basically just bragging about how hot he is).. He'll always crave your presence no matter what, and nothing and no one will change that.

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading.

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