#*voice a the guy from that commercial*

[deus-ex-mona]

a n y w a y s listen to nagisa’s new song it’ll change your life

[liverpool-enjoyer]

💞

alright yall get ready for an INFLUX of these asks

💞 @ your favorite blog oh no way in heck can i name jus one. uhhhh @rainingmbappe @memorycollectr @childishfirmino @millythegoat @lukarnodrics @sztrapacska @seedlessmuffins @cryingforcrocodiles @swaggypsyduck @yudgefudge @liverpoolfanfiction @kevjrr @aechii @blaugrana-blues @onetouchparadise @bobbybecker-21 @darththrog @mebiselfandi @lonely-salamander @cherishlaluna @stargarland @calm-smol @moomin279 @safestofhands @greekscouserr @neyxmessi @jordanhendersunshine @ciromuffins @stamatia25082004 @bigmagalhaes,,, and more!!!

ask me stuff if you want :))

[luckypebble42]

Babe, what's wrong? The world is collapsing around you? You don't have a direction in life and don't know whether it's worth finding one? The people you love are struggling and you don't know how to help them? Why don't you watch some Queer Eye about it, then maybe you'll feel better.

[sttm99]

Based on this story by @kumimi3

Prohero!Katsuki, who's modelling for Calvin Klein. Who's seen you in some magazines, commercials, or fashion blogs and hasn't ever paid much interest. There's something about media that diminishes beauty, such that a pretty face becomes mundane when on television.

So he doesn't care much until he sees you for the first time during a shoot.

And he thinks you're absolutely unreal.

You're beautiful, in a way that has people unable to look away, as if something will happen the moment their eyes leave you.

There is no camera in the world that does you justice, and annoyingly, it has him sweating a bit when you're close, your torso leaning on him.

"Stand over there," the photographer says, instantly ushering you to step over to Bakugo.

"We're just gonna get some shots in before your solos, YN." The photographer tells you. "Stand closer to Bakugo."

The shoot takes longer than what he's used to. It dragged on, with the photographer intent in getting you in every single position he could come up with.

"You're his muse," Bakugo hears one of the makeup artists say. "He's practically enamoured."

'She's beautiful, though... I would be, too,' he thinks.

The shoot ends, and he's already researching your name and company while in the car on the way back. He's consuming information about you rapidly, measurements and backstories, your agency and your nationality, your pictures.

In about two months or so, you're booked to model some line of merchandise for one of the larger Hero Agencies in Japan. You're sitting against a backdrop, moving through accessories and black pieces of clothing, all with a similar orange cross over the chest.

When you're changing, redoing your hair and makeup, one of the stylists whispers to you.

"Are you two close? Is that why he was so adamant about you?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking at her through the mirror. "What?"

She blinks at you, "He refused anyone else. Told them it was you or nothing. Just you."

You paused. You had only just recently moved down to Japan for work, and you were still just an upcoming face. You didn't know anyone influential in the field other than the photographer from some months ago, and he hadn't mentioned it.

"Who?"

The girl looks at you, then shrugs over to the door, where a guy you recognise is talking to the photographer. He's familiar, and it takes a moment before you remember he's the guy you did your Calvin Klein shoot with.

"Who is he?" You murmur, and the hair stylist and the makeup artist look at you like you're crazy.

"Bakugo Katsuki? Dynamight?"

"The Dynamight?" Your voice goes down to a whisper as shock fills you. You're looking at the makeup artist with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she's looking at you like the same way.

"Duh? You didn't know what he looked like?"

"I-" You stammer, trying not to give into the urge to turn back and stare at him. "I only just moved here.... I'm not too familiar with Japanese heroes.

The girl snorts. "Well, it looked like you're gonna be very familiar with Dynamight."

You turn back slowly but find that he's already looking at you.

[xo100]

Airport - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris offers a woman, who missed her flight, a ride on his private jet to Monaco. They bond over light conversation and flirting, leaving with the possibility of seeing each other again.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1323

୨ৎ

The race weekend had been long, grueling, and filled with adrenaline. Lando Norris was ready to head back to Monaco, to the comfort of his own home where the sound of engines could be swapped for the quiet of the Mediterranean breeze. As he made his way through the airport, sunglasses perched on his nose and his cap pulled low, he weaved his way through the flow of people without drawing too much attention to himself.

It wasn’t until he neared the private terminal that he noticed something out of the ordinary: a young woman standing near the gate of a commercial flight to Monaco, her expression a mix of frustration and panic. Lando slowed his steps, curiosity piqued. She stood there, gazing hopelessly at the closed gate, gripping her passport tightly. Her bags were tossed haphazardly by her feet as though she’d raced through the airport only to fall seconds short of making it to her flight.

The sharpness of disappointment etched on her face was all too familiar. He’d been in similar situations before, dashing through airports, missing flights by mere moments. Only, she didn’t seem to have the luxury of a private jet waiting just down the hall like he did.

Lando hesitated. He didn’t know her story, but something about the way she stood there, looking so defeated, tugged at him. He glanced at his watch. His jet was leaving soon, but he still had time. And, well, maybe this wouldn’t be the worst idea. What was the harm in offering a bit of help?

He pulled his cap down a little further and crossed the distance between them, moving casually as though he were just another traveler making his way to his flight.

“Missed your flight?” he asked, his voice light but laced with concern.

She turned to look at him, startled at first, then quickly took him in—cap, sunglasses, and all. Recognition flickered in her eyes, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Just a flicker.

“Yeah,” she breathed out with a weak chuckle. “By about three minutes. They wouldn’t let me through even though the plane is still sitting there.”

“That’s tough,” Lando said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Where you heading?”

“Monaco,” she said with a shrug, though it seemed like a more resigned gesture. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the next one.”

Lando nodded, glancing around the terminal. The airport was buzzing with the usual chaos, and he could see the stress rolling off her shoulders. He thought for a second, then made a split decision. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I’m heading there too,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got a private jet leaving soon. If you want, you can take the flight with me.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and her lips parted slightly, a mixture of surprise and hesitation crossing her features.

“A private jet?” she asked, a little skeptical. “Isn’t that...a bit much?”

Lando laughed softly. “Maybe, but I’ve got plenty of room. Plus, you look like you could use a break from airport stress. I promise it’s less chaotic than commercial flights.”

She blinked, clearly processing his offer. The idea of getting onto a private jet with a guy she just met—even if he was Lando Norris—probably wasn’t something she had expected when she woke up that morning.

“That’s...really kind of you,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “But I couldn’t—“

“Sure you can,” he interrupted, his tone teasing but warm. “Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You miss your flight, and instead of waiting around, you get to fly in style. How often does that happen?”

She laughed at that, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “When you put it like that…”

Lando grinned, taking her hesitation as a positive sign. “C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? You get to Monaco an hour earlier, and we both get some company for the flight. No need to sit around waiting for the next one.”

She looked at him again, weighing her options. He could see the internal debate playing out in her eyes—logic versus the sheer spontaneity of his offer. Finally, she sighed, her lips curling into a tentative smile.

“Alright,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Why not? But I’ll warn you, I might be a terrible conversationalist after the day I’ve had.”

“That’s okay,” Lando replied with a wink. “I’m known to talk enough for two.”

With that, he grabbed one of her bags effortlessly, motioning for her to follow him toward the private terminal. She trailed behind, still looking a little shell-shocked, but there was something about the ease of his manner that made her feel less anxious about the whole thing.

As they walked, Lando kept the conversation light, asking her about her trip and how she ended up almost missing her flight. She shared a story about how her taxi had gotten stuck in traffic, the minutes ticking away as she helplessly watched the airport get closer and closer. Lando laughed, offering a few of his own travel horror stories in return. By the time they reached the sleek jet waiting on the tarmac, the mood between them was light and comfortable.

-

“You weren’t kidding,” she muttered as they approached the aircraft, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is...wow.”

Lando chuckled and waved a hand. “It’s not bad, right?”

They climbed aboard, and soon enough, they were airborne. The hum of the engines was soothing, and the view of the clouds stretching out below them was a peaceful contrast to the chaos of the airport they’d left behind.

“You know,” she said after a while, leaning back in her plush seat, “I still can’t believe I’m on a private jet with you. This feels surreal.”

Lando smirked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “Trust me, I’ve been in a lot of surreal situations lately. This one’s pretty tame.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess that’s fair. Monaco, huh? Do you live there?”

“Yeah, for a while now,” he replied, glancing out the window. “It’s a nice place to unwind after the craziness of race weekends.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve been through a few times, but never really had a chance to stay.”

“Well, maybe this is your chance,” he said, eyes twinkling. “What’s your plan once we get there?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend,” she said with a sigh. “But it’s not set in stone. What about you?”

“Just heading home,” Lando said, then added with a teasing grin, “But if you need a tour guide while you’re there, I might be available.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Are you offering to show me around Monaco, Lando?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “Depends if you’re up for it.”

She laughed softly, glancing out the window again. “I might take you up on that.”

For the rest of the flight, the conversation flowed easily, peppered with light flirtation and comfortable silences. There was something so natural about it—like they’d known each other for longer than just a chance meeting in an airport.

As the jet began its descent toward Monaco, Lando glanced over at her, feeling a strange sense of contentment.

“Guess we’re almost there,” he said.

”Yeah,” she replied, though her tone held a hint of reluctance. “Thanks again for this, Lando. You really saved my day.”

He flashed her a playful grin. “Anytime. Maybe I’ll see you around Monaco.”

“Maybe,” she said with a smirk of her own. “But next time, let’s hope it’s under more normal circumstances.”

“Deal,” he replied with a wink.

As they stepped off the jet and into the warm Monaco air, Lando couldn’t help but think that maybe missing her flight had been the best thing that could’ve happened to either of them that day.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember requests are open if you would like to request something. Also question for you guys, is there someone who can help me with the link of the requests so I could put it in my masterlist? I don’t know where to find that link, DM me if you know.

[heartsforhavik]

will you write more parts for the yandere!fan fic? 🫣

stalker! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader (part 2)

what if you had two different yanderes pining for you?

✰ warnings: stalking, mentions of murder, regular yandere tendencies, gender neutral reader

✰ a/n: damn that first part did a lot better than i thought it would, thank you guys! so how about i bring in a second yandere… i’m naming this yandere victor, and the yandere in the first part is bayani. (btw the art below is by RIP2_)

part one (with bayani) right here! a third part is coming soon, featuring both bayani and victor when they realize they both are pining for you...

stalker! yandere boy that puts in more effort than superfan! yandere boy to catch your attention. bayani could never love you. he can barely even handle you looking at him, what makes you think he’s the right one for you? he’s just a lowly coward. victor is the one for you. he loves you so much. more than bayani.

stalker! yandere boy that doesn't care about your music. not one bit. because he loves you for you! who cares what your music sounds like? he doesn't care what genre it is, or if you even have a good voice or not. he'd be the best boyfriend for you because he treats you like an actual human, not just some singing machine. besides, he personally prefers metal. maybe he can listen to it with you when you get together! it sounds like a delightful date.

stalker! yandere boy that follows you around wherever you go. he tracks your travelling patterns, and visits whatever places you visit at the exact same time. whether you fly private, commercial, or even use a train or car. doesn't matter. he will follow you. where you go, he goes.

stalker! yandere boy that would go as far as to disguise himself as someone else in order to interact with you and gain your attention. you go eat at a restaurant? victor would kill a random waiter, steal their uniform, and take their place. you stay at a hotel? he's posing as room service and will steal your clothes and belongings tidy up your room! he'll even use the key to your room to walk in and watch you sleep at night. you just look so enchanting in your sleep, how can he resist? it's not wrong, he's just keeping you safe. he is the only one that can make sure you are happy and healthy. in victor's eyes, even the strongest bodyguard cannot keep you safe. you don't need anyone else. just him.

stalker! yandere boy that tries to catch your attention anytime he can. he needs you to notice him. he needs you to say something to him, talk to him, touch him, know him, acknowledge his existence. victor needs you to validate his existence in order to continue living. without you, what would he do? he cannot handle being away from you. he cannot handle being alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. don't leave him alone. he needs you.

stalker! yandere boy that gets jealous easily. you collab with another artist or you're seen holding hands with someone in public? he's spreading a fake rumor about whoever it is and ruining their life. you shouldn't be so stupid. why associate with someone else when you have him? why ditch him for someone else? he's right there. he can be better than them. who cares what they look or sound like? victor's so much better. he can show you how much better he is, if you give him a chance.

stalker! yandere boy that is so desperate for any kind of attention from you. it doesn't matter if it's positive or negative attention. he always plays it cool and acts all smug and calm when you notice him, but on the inside he is resisting the urge to grab you and run away from the world. all he wants is to have a peaceful, isolated life with you. away from the disgusting people in the world. you and victor can be happy together.

stalker! yandere boy that is incredibly clingy. you know you need him, right? he must be near you at all times. his presence keeps you alive and happy. you keep HIM happy. he needs you. you both need each other. if he can't see or feel your presence, he will go insane. that is why he travels anywhere you go. that is why he must go to each and every one of your concerts and meet-and-greets. you assumed he was just a big fan to be at every single event, but you just can't see that he loves you much more than just some fan.

stalker! yandere boy that just wants to be with you! let him be around you. let him completely obsess over you, touch you, love you, do whatever he wants to you. he won't hurt you! he just wants a little bit of freedom to say and do whatever he wants to you once you are together, so he can make sure you don't leave him. he will make you feel so good, so loved, so appreciated. nobody will ever love you more than he does.

but there may be someone that rivals his affections. a lowly, masochistic, scrawny pest that thinks he loves you more. victor will have to do something about it before your little superfan finally decides to man up and make a move on you.

[youeitherselfshiporudie]

the mario movie is gonna make my crush on luigi resurface *buried my face in my hands and screams*

[hajiberry]

VOICE-MEMOS THEY SEND WHEN THEYRE DRUNK

Kirishima- “baaaaaaabe, hiii I’m out and well I mean I’m not really out anymore I’m on my way home. In an Uber cause no drunk driving duhhhhhh but actually I’m not even drunk so I actually could’ve driven but somebody I won’t name names was being a bit of an asshat and wouldn’t let me drive. But oh my god I love yousomuch like you know I love my guys but god I miss you every time I go out. And yes I know I’ll see you when I get home but your gonna be sleeping and I’m gonna be sad but honestly might wake you up because I wanna kiss you. Okaaay pulling up to to the cribbb noww BYYE”

Deku- “okay let me start by saying I’m only slightly under the influence right now. Like honestly barely, I didn’t even drink that much but sometimes I feel like because I never had a college experience to build my tolerance up I’m still a lightweight at 24 but anyways I’m on the way home and I keep thinking about how much I love you and I miss you so much and oh my god I don’t know what I’d do if we ever broke up. Not that I want that to ever happen but like oh my god how could I even function? I’d probably drop from number 1 to like in the hundreds 'cause I’d be that useless without you.” *starts crying and the rest of the audio message is him crying*

Todoroki - “y/n, I’m currently in midoriyas car because he’s driving me home because I accidentally drank too much at the after-party for the award show. I’m so sad you couldn’t come, like I know the anniversary party for your parents is really important that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow to be there for it. Shit, that was a secret. I hope you don’t listen to this because then you’ll know I’m on a plane coming to see you in like 3 hours. Honestly don’t know how I’m going to function hungover on an airplane but I think I’ll manage, I mean it’s not like it’s a commercial flight so I should be good. Damn it well I was originally going to say I love and miss you. Which still stands but I’m gonna go now because I think I’m going to throw up” “TODOROKI NOT IN MY CAR PLEASE”

Bakugou- “fuck. I’m so drunk right now and I hate even admitting that but that’s how shit-faced I am right now that I can even admit that I’m drunk. This is why I should never go out with my idiot friends, they make me drink and then I end up talking about you and that’s so beyond embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing I just don’t need them to know my business like that. Kirishimas driving me home right now which I feel like speaks volumes about my lack of good judgment right now. I don’t even know what the point of this message is I just wanted to say you’re one of the most tolerable person I’ve ever met and I really fucking love you. Okay bye this idiots smiling at what I’m saying and it’s creeping me out.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue

dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.

Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.

to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.

Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.

LINKS/ chapter count

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

prologue

“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.

“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”

Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 

Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.

“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!

The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 

He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 

He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.

Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 

That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.

A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 

“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.

“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 

“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.

For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”

The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.

He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

As he scrolled eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tend to only happened when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed but his expression didn't change ,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[moonstruckme]

hi i love your blog! could you write poly!marauders where james is away on a business trip and everyone is moping because they miss him

Hi, I love you! Thanks for requesting :)

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 863 words

You feel a bit guilty resting your head on Sirius' shoulder while longing for another. But you reason that it’s not so bad if the one you’re longing for is Sirius’ boyfriend, too. And you like to think that if it were James’ warm, cushiony shoulder you were leaning against, you’d be missing Sirius instead. 

“How was everyone’s day?” you ask. 

Remus turns to give you a peculiar look. “It was fine. We talked about this already, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I just feel like we’re not usually so quiet during the commercial breaks.” 

“Well, our yapper’s gone,” Sirius says sulkily. 

“James does usually start the conversation,” admits Remus. “But we don’t need him to talk, yeah?” 

“Right.” You nod, sitting up with what you hope looks like conviction. “Sirius, you can yap just as well as James can.” 

“Yeah, but I need him to get me going.” Your boyfriend sighs heavily. “He’d probably ask something like ‘If we were all in a circus, what would our roles be?’ and I can’t come up with shit like that.”

“No, that’s great!” You try to sound peppy. “Um, okay. Sirius would probably be a trapeze artist, right?” 

Remus nods. “And I could see you being a tightrope walker.” 

You both look to Sirius for his analysis, but he looks unimpressed. Still, he plays along. “Rem would be one of those blokes who eat fire, likely.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh. 

See, you can have fun! This is fun, right? But then your film comes back on, and you all lapse into silence again. 

“James would’ve never let us watch this,” you say after a few minutes. “He’d have made us pick a comedy or something.” 

“And he would’ve been right,” Sirius agrees. “This is fucking bleak.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Remus says, making you and Sirius exchange a look. For as much as James loves Remus, he’s most often the victim of his film vetoes. Remus’ taste is bleak. 

It’s another few minutes before an actress on-screen says a line, and Remus clears his throat awkwardly. 

“That’s what she said.” 

You and Sirius look at him with a mixture of befuddlement and alarm. 

“What?” He shifts in his seat. “I’m trying to fill a gap.” 

Sirius appears scandalized. “James’ jokes are far more advanced than that.” 

“He said ‘that’s what she said’ just last week.” 

“Yes, but in a completely different context!” 

“We could call him,” you point out. 

Remus’ expression creases longingly. “No, he’s been in meetings all day. I’m sure he’ll want to rest.” 

But Sirius clicks the speaker button on his phone, letting the dial tone play aloud. Remus looks almost relieved. 

James picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Hi,” you all say loudly, voices each trying to be heard over the others. 

“We need you to come home,” Sirius whines. 

“What?” James sounds closer to the speaker now, like he’s holding the phone tight to his face. “Is everything okay?” 

“Don’t say that,” Remus hisses at Sirius. “Everything’s fine, Jamie.” 

“We just miss you,” you clarify. 

“Oh.” The relief is obvious in your boyfriend’s voice, and you notice your other two boyfriends smiling fondly at the sound of it. You think your own expression probably looks just about as humiliatingly smitten. “Awe. I miss you guys, too. Like crazy, you have no idea.” 

“I think we have some.” Sirius raises a brow at the phone. “Rem just tried to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke.” 

A sharp cough crackles through the speaker. “Did he? How did it go?” 

“Poorly.” 

“Ah, well.” You can practically feel the warmth of James’ smile from hundreds of miles away. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll work on it when I get back.” 

“I’d rather not do it again, actually,” Remus grumbles. 

“How was your day?” You lean on Sirius’ shoulder again, getting close to the phone like James is contained within it. 

“Boring,” he says emphatically. “I got told off by some old woman for tapping my pen on my pad too loudly while someone was giving a presentation. The hotel they’ve put us up in isn’t bad, though. Free breakfast in the morning to get us energized for another day or torment.” 

“Ooh, could you see if they have those little blueberry muffins?” Sirius asks. “And if they do, wrap me up a few to bring home with you.”

“Sirius,” Remus chides. 

“I’ll check,” James agrees easily. “Rem, do you want some chocolate ones if they have those?” 

If James could see the way your boyfriend flushes pink, he’d be grinning ear to ear. “Yes, please,” Remus replies. 

“Brilliant. And for you, lovie?” 

“I’ll just mooch off of Sirius’ blueberry ones.” You snicker when Sirius gasps, sneaking a hand around your waist to pinch at your middle. 

“Oh, perfect,” says James. “I’ll make sure to grab a few less, then, so you can really fight over them.”

“Prick,” Sirius accuses. 

“Love you, too. So, how was everyone else’s day?” 

You catch yourself smiling a second before seeing a similarly contented expression reflected on Sirius’ face. Remus moves from his armchair to the couch, and you all lean into the phone as you tell him. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

documentary

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'behind the music'

rated m | 723 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: modern era, famous corroded coffin, established steddie

📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹📹

"Steve!" Gareth calls from the couch of the living room, not caring that Eddie was fast asleep in his chair. "It's on!"

Steve rushes into the room, nearly falling face first when he slips on the corner of the rug. He's wiping his hands on a towel, probably wet from doing the dishes after dinner.

Jeff and Frankie are sitting on the other couch, leaning forward to watch.

Eddie's still asleep somehow.

"Metal bands have always been expected to just make due with whatever already exists in the metal community. 'Don't play acoustic' and 'You can't play Coachella' and 'You can't feature a pop star.' But we just like music. We wanna share music with people."

"Listen to you, Jeff. So poetic," Frankie teases. Jeff shoves him, but they keep watching the ad for their documentary.

"We live in a time where people don't have to just like one thing. Someone can have a playlist that's got us right next to Dolly Parton and Taylor Swift if they want. If people saw my playlists, they'd think a group of teenagers made it."

Eddie doesn't even wake up when his voice fills the room, his face on the screen.

"Corroded Coffin announces world tour with a new opening guest for every show. The artists range anywhere from Chappell Roan to Sleep Token." A male reporter is shown on the screen.

"No one's doing it like them, that's why we love them," a few fans say into a camera during an interview.

"The members of Corroded Coffin refused to do a documentary for years, too busy writing, recording, and performing music for the masses. But they've taken time off this year, focusing on personal time with loved ones and staying out of the limelight they worked so hard to reach. We finally managed to sit down with them and find out who they are...behind the music."

The ad changes to a fast food commercial and Steve laughs.

"That was somehow more dramatic than anything Eddie's ever done," he says as he walks over to wake up his still sleeping boyfriend. "Ed, you missed it."

Eddie's eyes blink open, but he doesn't seem to remember that he fell asleep with everyone in the room. He grabs Steve's thighs and pulls him down so he's straddling his waist.

"Hey, big boy. Was just dreamin' about you."

Steve laughs. "You can tell me all about it later. When your best friends are not sitting a few feet away."

Eddie turns his head, but doesn't take his hands off of Steve's hips. "You should all go. I have business to attend to."

"You missed the ad, dumbass," Gareth says, throwing one of the pillows at Eddie. "Keep your hands to yourself until the next run."

"Don't you think it's already on social media?" Frankie asked before Eddie could.

"Probably, but it's different on tv."

Eddie squeezes Steve's hips, but lets him get up. He sits up and smiles up at Steve. "Later?"

"If you can stay awake, sure."

Steve leaves the room and Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth all start teasing Eddie immediately. He lets them; He knows he's a lovesick idiot.

When the next ad comes on as scheduled, Eddie watches it silently.

He pulls his phone out and calls Wayne, asking if he saw it.

And then he starts crying.

Everyone's in complete shock.

"Steve! Eddie's crying!" Gareth yells.

This time when Steve comes rushing into the room, it's with panic in his eyes. He seems to realize what's going on the moment he sees Eddie, though. He shoos everyone out of the room as he makes his way to him, kneeling in front of him and placing his hands on his face.

The guys don't hear much, but they can make out Eddie blubbering "we worked so hard for this and it's happening" and Steve's gentle shushing and praise.

"Should we get pizza delivered?" Frankie asks.

"I think now's a good time to just leave," Jeff suggests. "We can get hibachi."

"Hell yeah!" Frankie fist pumps and opens the front door, holding it open as Jeff walks through it.

Gareth looks back towards where Steve has Eddie's head against his shoulder, hand in his hair. He smiles to himself as he leaves to join Jeff and Frankie.

They really did work their asses off to get here.

[rileyslibrary]

Synopsis: A new lieutenant comes to your base—a hot one. Ghost isn’t happy.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,334

Notes:

I haven’t thought of a title, so I’m replacing it with a picture of Ghost’s expression that perfectly captures the fic’s concept. Let me know if you think of one.

Platonic fluff, duh.

Warning: Lots of swearing ahead of you, British slang as well. Told you, he’s not happy.

UPDATE: there’s a Part 2 now. Things get messy.

Want more?

———————————————————————

The rumour mill went into overdrive as soon as the ‘new guy’ arrived at the military base that morning. A former special ops legend with impressive credentials; what’s not to love?

But it wasn’t just his military skills that had everyone talking; it was also his appearance. Rumours of his Adonis-like looks had spread throughout the base, and everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of him. Even the mess hall was dominated by talk of his stunning looks.

What did you think of him? Well, you prefer to take such things with a grain of salt and not put too much stock in them. After all, beauty is a matter of personal preference, and no single definition applies to everyone. So you wanted to evaluate things for yourself.

Okay, fine. Yes, the rumours were true—the guy is exactly as they described him.

The new lieutenant stands tall and proud in front of the line you’ve all formed, his wavy hair coiffed into a deep side part with a thick fringe swooping over one eye. His chiselled jawline is accentuated by a short, perfectly groomed beard, and he gives everyone a brilliant smile as if he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. His voice is booming and almost comically enthusiastic as if he were trying to engage a class of children. He gives orders by pointing at soldiers with gun fingers and winking, causing some of you to stifle giggles.

“All right, soldiers, pay attention!” he says, clapping his hands like a cheerleader. “Today’s tasks are routine: cleaning, organizing, equipment repair, and inventory taking. And, hey, if we pull this off, I’ll buy everyone a round at the local pub! How does that sound?”

Some of the soldiers exchange skeptical glances, wondering if this guy is for real.

But Ghost? Oh. My. God.

Ghost’s agitation becomes too hard to hide as the new lieutenant speaks. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving frantically as if eager to be anywhere but here. His eyes keep rolling back as though they’re searching for some leftover patience in the depths of his skull. You keep staring at his crossed arms. They’re so stiff that his muscles must ache from the effort. It’s as if he’s trying to keep them in place, so he doesn’t unleash them and back-slap the hot lieutenant’s pretty face. That, or he’ll let out a primal scream any second now.

“Y/N,” he turns to face you, and you stand at attention, “you’re on border patrol with me today-”

“Y/N is staying with me at the office today,” Ghost opposes him. “There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”

“Can’t you get someone else to fill out the paperwork?” the man asks, shooting Ghost a wink and a grin.

“Can’t you get someone else to help you with border patrol?” Ghost winks back at him and turns to face you. “Y/N, on your feet, c’mon,” he says, walking towards the building.

You exchange glances with the new lieutenant and shrug. This is too awkward.

“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, SOLDIER,” Ghost commands, and you dash towards him, brushing past the new lieutenant, who also happens to smell amazing. Of course, he does.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Lt.?” You whisper as you run behind him, “where’s the camaraderie we discussed during yesterday’s briefing?”

Ghost shoots you a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to keep my paperwork safe,” he mutters.

“What’ll happen to the damn paperw-” you proceed to ask, but then evaluate his words; you’re the paperwork.

At the office…

He’s reticent as he sits on his desk—not like he’s a social butterfly any other day, but today, he seems angry. Almost hostile. His eyebrows are tied together, his restless leg syndrome is back, and he takes too many cigarette breaks compared to what you’re used to. He answers your questions with one-word statements when—and if—he acknowledges your presence. Yesses and nos are all you’ve been getting since you entered the office, with the occasional “tsk” he might utter while he looks at his papers.

“Pass me the stapler.” He commands.

“Magic word, Ghost.”

“Pass me the fucking stapler, please.”

You slide the stapler over to his desk. “You’re rude today, Mr Riley.” You comment, turning your focus back to the laptop’s screen.

He doesn’t reply in the form of words. Instead, his feelings manifest themselves by aggressively stapling the papers together.

“Perhaps you’d like me to ask for the stapler by winking at you?” He finally mutters under his breath.

“Like the guy that came in today?” You scoff.

Oh, you have his full, undivided attention now. He turns his chair towards you and leans his weight on his thighs as if you’re about to tell the most exciting story.

“What do you think of him?” He asks.

You flick your wrist dismissively. “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. I prefer to reserve judgment until I get to know someone.” You give him a pointed look, hoping to convey your message without having to spell it out for him.

“He’s a fucking bellend, I’ll tell you that much.” He mumbles in response. Guess the message got lost in transit.

“Come on, man!” You shout and punch your fist on the table, “it’s obvious that he’s got you rattled.”

“He’s not rattling me!” Ghost protests, but his defensive tone betrays him.

“Sure, he’s not,” you reply sarcastically, “that’s why you’ve been chain-smoking and stapling papers like you’re trying to murder them.”

Ghost lets out a deep sigh and rubs his temples.

“Is it his looks?” you ask.

“No, it’s not his looks,” Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m much better looking than him, that’s for sure.”

“Are you...I don’t know, intimidated, maybe?” You shrug, “because you’re worried he might take your place as the top dog around here?”

He looks at you incredulously. “What are you talking about? I’m not worried about that.”

“Sure, you’re not,” you smirk. “That’s why you’ve been acting like a total jerk all day.”

He looks up and sighs. The poor man looks like he desperately needs an ego boost. Beneath Ghost’s tough facade there’s Simon, after all. And Simon is a human being with the same insecurities and worries as everyone else.

“In any case,” you say, trying to comfort him, “nobody takes such douchebags seriously in the army. And I get it; the guy’s trying to make a good impression and all, but, my God, he needs to chill with all the...” you start winking and pointing gun fingers left and right.

He’s so happy he lets out a sharp chuckle. “He’s a fucking nobhead, isn’t he?” He asks, “trying to take charge and acting like he knows everything.”

“Indeed,” you reassure him, “and that cologne, I almost fainted as I passed him; how could you stand beside him for so long?”

“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head.

You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Ghost. You’re the most respected operator here,” you say, giving him a small smile, “just do me a favour and give the guy a chance; he has so much to learn from you.”

He nods. “I wanted to neck slap him so hard,” he mumbles, “knock his pretty white teeth out.”

“Which are fake, by the way.”

“Are they?” He asks, shocked.

“100%.” You reply with conviction as if you are the guy’s dentist.

“I knew it.” He yells, slaps his hand on his thigh, and turns his chair back to his desk.

You look at him from the corner of your eye. He seems much more relaxed now. Hopefully, he takes your advice to heart and proceeds with the same resilience and leadership he does on the battlefield. Or, maybe, you temporarily diffused a potential conflict, and the captain will have to get involved pretty soon. Who knows. At least he feels confident in himself now, and the guy’s teeth will live to see another day.

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[rebelliousmuse]

Flirt Zone - M.S.

Warnings: masturbation (male), unprotected p in v (always use condoms).

-------------------------------------------------------------

Nick fumbled through his overflowing closet, muttering under his breath. Doja Cat acting as the soundtrack. This first visit to his house, though, took an unexpected turn.

The door swung open, revealing a guy who could've been a model for a cologne ad. Messy, dark hair tumbled across his forehead, partially obscuring the tattoos peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve. A smile played on his lips, showcasing a row of perfectly white teeth. He smelled like heaven. For a moment, you forgot you were looking for Nick. This was Matt, and he was breathtaking.

“Hey, you must be y/n,” he said. “Nick's running a fashion show apparently. Come on in.” He ushered you inside, followed by another guy with similar features, who introduced himself as Chris. The house mirrored Nick's personality – slightly chaotic but undeniably welcoming.

You reached Nick's room, the door swinging shut behind you as Matt and Chris disappeared down the hall. You sank onto the bed, letting out a breathless, “Holy shit.” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you bit your lip hard to try and suppress a goofy grin.

Nick whipped around, a mock look of disgust contorting his features. “Seriously, y/n?” he asked. “Which one stole your heart this time?”

“Matt, definitely,” You confessed, unable to hold back a giggle. “He smells amazing, that smile and those tattoos…” Your voice trailed off as you recalled his image.

Nick snorted. “Great, just what I need, my best friend developing a crush on my brother.”

“Hey, it's not my fault he looks like a rockstar who just stepped out of a cologne commercial!” You defended yourself, playfully nudging him. “Besides, more visits mean more opportunities for me to help you find the perfect outfit, right?”

Nick rolled his eyes dramatically. “Whatever, just don't drool all over my clothes while you're at it, okay?” He said, already rummaging through his t-shirts.

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and Nick's house became a second home. You'd sprawl on the living room floor, controllers clutched in hands, battling it out in the latest game. Sometimes, Matt and Chris would join in, their competitive streaks making things even more intense.

One afternoon, while Matt and you were arguing (playfully, of course) about who deserved the last slice of pizza, Nick blurted out, “Don't worry, y/n won't mind sharing with you, Matt. After all, she practically worships the ground you walk on!”

Your cheeks burned like you'd swallowed a fireball. “Nick!” You sputtered, mortified. But seeing the laughter sparkling in Matt's eyes, you took a deep breath. “Well,” You said, trying to sound casual, “You already know now, there's no point in hiding it.”

From then on, flirting became your game. You'd compliment his taste in music, playfully nudge him during movie nights, or tease him about his messy hair (which, secretly, you found incredibly endearing). Matt would mostly respond with a playful eye roll and a chuckle, but sometimes a blush would creep up his neck, and he'd resort to burying his face in his phone to avoid eye contact.

One afternoon, you brought the guys over to meet your other friends. “These are my two best friends,” you said, gesturing towards Nick and Chris, “Nick and Chris. And this one,” You added, turning to Matt, “is Matt.” You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile as you met his gaze. “Let's just say I’m… working on something here.”

The statement hung in the air, open to interpretation. My friends exchanged curious glances, while Matt's cheeks flushed a faint pink. He mumbled a greeting, his gaze flickering away from yours.

Every outing became a performance. Introductions were meticulously crafted. Nick and Chris received a casual wave and a quick name toss. But Matt, well, Matt was different. His introduction lingered, a hint of possessiveness lacing the words. It was a message not just for him, but for the girls who inevitably wandered into their orbit. A subtle marking of territory, a playful yet firm declaration: Matt, in your eyes, was something special, someone off-limits, especially to your closest circle. He was, quite simply, too good to share.

---

Today was sleepover night with Nick, a monthly tradition you cherished. You were putting the finishing touches on yourself, a breezy sundress swirling around your legs as you reached for your favourite bottle of Chanel perfume. A soft chime from your phone announced a text – Matt's message confirming they were outside. Grabbing your purse and a backpack overflowing with sleepover essentials, you dashed out the door, a hurried goodbye to your two barking dogs echoing behind you.

The familiar car idled in the driveway. Sliding into the backseat, you offered a bright "Hi!" that was met with a chorus of greetings from the three brothers. Nick, occupying the seat next to you turned with a grin. "Ready to raid the mall? We need to stock up on serious movie snacks for tonight." You couldn't help but smile back, nodding your head.

The rearview mirror offered a glimpse of Matt as you chatted with Nick. You caught his gaze flickering back in your direction a few times. Feeling a playful nudge of courage, you leaned forward. "Like the view?" you teased, "I know I do."

Your playful jab elicited chuckles from Chris in the front seat, while Nick snorted out a sarcastic, "Gross." But Matt's reaction was different. He rolled his eyes, in annoyance. "Did I ask?" he muttered.

Undeterred, you met his gaze with a smirk. "Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," you countered. "Feeling a bit bratty, are we?" He shot you a mock-irritated look, his jaw clenching slightly. But before he could retort, you leaned in closer.

In a flirty whisper that tickled his ear, you murmured, "I like it." You accentuated the point by biting your lower lip. A blush crept up Matt's neck, his cheeks turning a faint pink. His gaze darted away momentarily, flustered by your bold move.

The mall bustled with activity as you navigated the aisles, gathering movie snacks and groceries for the triplets' house. You kept up a steady stream of chatter with Nick and Chris. However, you couldn't shake the feeling of Matt's gaze burning into you. Every now and then, you'd steal a glance in his direction, only to find him staring intently.

Finally, bags overflowing, you piled back into the car. Matt, focused on the road as he navigated the traffic.

Reaching the triplets' house, you helped Nick unload the snacks. As the boys ordered takeout for the evening, you retreated to a bathroom, taking a moment to prepare for a night of movies. Slipping into a comfy nightgown, you brushed your hair and applied a touch of lip gloss, a subconscious effort to feel put-together even for just a sleepover.

Nick soon appeared at the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ready for some movies?" he announced, gesturing for you to follow him. Settling onto Nick's bed, you grabbed a handful of popcorn as the movie started.

The movie was nearing its climax, you were thoroughly engrossed, practically glued to the screen alongside Nick. Then, that familiar pressure built in your bladder. Stifling a groan, you glanced around the room. Nick's bathroom door was ajar. Apparently, a recent "science experiment" for a video involving a rogue Mentos geyser had rendered it temporarily out of commission.

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, the sudden movement momentarily pulling Nick's attention away from the movie. "Bathroom break," you said apologetically, already heading for the hallway. There was a single bathroom close to Nick's bedroom. Reaching for the knob, going in to use the toilet. As you got out, passing outside Matt’s door, you heard a low, guttural groan sent a jolt through you. Concern washed over you, was Matt alright? Had he tripped and hurt himself? Before you could second-guess yourself, you threw open the door.

Your worried frown melted into stunned silence as your gaze fell upon Matt. He was sat with his back to you, his torso was bare. A gasp caught in your throat.

But it wasn't the sight of his bare chest that left you frozen. It was the expression on his face, a look of pure, transcendent pleasure etched across his features; his pants and boxers were down to his ankles as he ran his hand through his big dick. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in concentration, and the low, guttural groans you'd heard earlier escaped his lips involuntarily with each rhythmic movement. He was completely lost in the moment, oblivious to the world around him – oblivious to you standing there, speechless and wide-eyed in the doorway. You bit your lower lip hard, feeling yourself getting soaked at the view of Matt jerking off.

A low involuntary moan escaped your lips before you could even register it. The unexpected sight sent a jolt of arousal through you. Matt's eyes snapped open at the sound, his face contorting in surprise. The rhythmic movement he'd been engaged in ceased abruptly, replaced by a frantic scramble to cover himself with the nearby towel.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" you stammered, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering heat. "I thought… I heard a noise and thought you were hurt."

"Don't you knock?" he finally managed.

Guilt gnawed at you. You hadn't meant to intrude on such a private moment. Yet, even as you mumbled another apology, your gaze couldn't help but linger on the outline of his hard cock beneath the towel, and the glimpse of toned abs and strong arms fuelled the fire simmering in your core.

"Do you need help?" you blurted out. Matt's jaw clenched, his eyes widening in further surprise. You took a step forward, only to realize he was frozen in place, speechless under the weight of your unexpected advances.

As you closed the distance, reaching out, you tentatively brushed a hand against the rough fabric of the towel taking it off him, sending a tremor through Matt's body as you began massaging his length.

Lifting yourself onto his lap, you straddled him. Hesitantly, his hands reached out, hovering at your waist before finding purchase on the soft skin of your ass.

A wave of heat flooded your senses. Leaning in, you trailed a line of kisses down his neck. He responded with a muffled groan, a low sound that vibrated against your lips. Emboldened, you captured his mouth in a hungry kiss, starting to make out with him as you grinded against him.

Pulling away, breathless, you nipped at his lower lip. With a boldness you never knew you possessed, you reached for your panties, putting them to the side. Maintaining eye contact, your hand grabbed his dick, pumping it a few times before placing it on your entrance and slowly lowering yourself to him, making both of you gasp. He was larger and thicker than you anticipated, a realization that momentarily stole your breath.

He cupped your waist, his fingers digging in as he began to make you move your hips. You followed his lead, moving in a slow way, adjusting little by little to his size. A moan escaped your lips as his tip brushed your g-spot deliciously, making you start to move faster, bouncing on his dick, as he responded with a deep grunt and breathless moans “That’s good, keep doing that” he ordered.

He began thrusting up, his hips meeting yours with a satisfying force that sent shivers down your spine. "So damn tight," he growled in your ear. You responded by digging your nails into his back, leaving a red trail on his bare skin. The sharp sensation seemed to ignite him further, and he abruptly shifted positions, taking control.

He was on top now, he moved impossibly fast and deep into you. The room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin. You cried out with a mixture of pleasure and surprise, the intensity pushing you closer to the edge.

"Quiet, baby," he rasped. "The others will hear." Shame washed over you momentarily, replaced by a desperate need to silence the sounds escaping your lips.

"S-sorry, Ma-tt," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. He responded with a brief, urgent kiss.

You felt yourself teetering on the precipice, a knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach. The sounds you made grew louder, involuntary expressions of the pleasure coursing through you. He noticed with a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

"Your legs are shaking like crazy," he murmured in your ear. A desperate plea formed on your lips.

"Matt, I… I can't… please," you stammered with a mixture of need and vulnerability in your voice. He understood. A low growl escaped his throat, "Come on then, cum for me" he rasped. And then, in a glorious rush, it happened. The tension shattered, replaced by a wave of pure pleasure that washed over you both as you came all over his dick and you felt him paint your insides with his cum at the same time. You clung to each other, breaths mingling in the aftermath, hearts pounding in a shared rhythm.

He leaned in, peppering your cheeks and neck with soft, lingering kisses. You couldn't help but giggle, and Matt chuckled too. He leaned back, meeting your gaze once more. This time, the kiss he offered was different. It was slow and deliberate.

The afterglow was sweet, but reality beckoned. Nick must be wondering where you'd disappeared to. With a sigh, Matt reluctantly untangled himself from you. He offered a hand to help you sit up. He watched as you reached for your scattered panties.

Before you could leave, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you into a quick kiss. Finally, with a lingering look that spoke a thousand unspoken words, he released you. Stepping aside, he gestured towards the door. "Go," he said smiling at you.

A nervous giggle escaped your lips as you tried to tame your hair. Reaching for the doorknob, you braced yourself for the trek back to Nick's room. What on earth would you say? How long had it been? Opening the door a little bit, you peeked inside, expecting to find Nick glued to the movie, completely oblivious.

Instead, the sight that greeted you was far worse. Nick was sprawled across his bed, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. The movie had been paused. Before you could stammer out an apology, he spoke.

"Don't even try to make up an excuse for taking so long," Nick cut in. “Let's just say the walls in this house aren't exactly soundproof." He punctuated his statement with a theatrical gag.

Heat flooded your cheeks. "You heard everything?" you mumbled. Nick burst out laughing, "Oh, come on y/n, it sounded like a jungle safari!" he teased making you blush profusely.

[kaciidubs]

Before the After Party

❣ Summary: Who said that celebrating had to wait until the after party? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.2k ❣ Warnings: Semi-Public Sex [award show dressing room], slight dom! Hyunjin, smut, desperation, quickie, creampie, allusion to multiple rounds ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Baby, Reader is referred to as My Muse, My Love, this was a long time coming, i know ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“...Stray Kids!”

The sounds of your screams blended with the screams of the hundreds of Stays surrounding you as you watched the boys react to their name being the one called from the pool of other great artists nominated - tears of pride stinging at your eyes as you watched them get up to accept their award.

Listening to the heartfelt, and truly underprepared speech Chris was giving, your eyes scanned over each of the boys; your smile growing impossibly bigger at each of their expressions until you reached the end of the line - a sharp pair of eyes easily catching, and holding, your gaze.

Hyunjin tried his best not to react, but even from the VIP seats you could see the twitch in his lips as he stared at you - the almost break in his facade being enough for him to cut eye contact first, looking out to the audience in front of them.

Tuning back into the speech, clocking Felix’s voice now resonating through the speakers, you did your best to pay attention to the roll call of thanks he was listing but you found yourself looking toward a certain dance line member yet again.

To your non-surprise, his eyes were already set on you and you decided to challenge him, discreetly sending him a small flying kiss with a smirk - the thought of flirting so openly with him sending a chill down your spine.

He looked away again, giving you the peace of mind to catch the last few words of Felix’s speech before joining the audience in cheering for them one more time as they stepped away from the mic; but, as fate would have it, you looked back at Hyunjin one last time to catch him shake his head at you, eyes narrowing in a sign you’ve seen time and time again.

Their performance seemed to go by at the speed of light, and before you knew it you were taking the commercial break to fish your phone out of your clutch, catching a glimpse of the notification illuminating the top of the screen.

My Artist 💘: Dressing room 💌

Excusing yourself out of your seat - ever so thankful for the VIP pass Skijigi had given you - you made your way off of the side stage and into the hallway toward backstage; quickly spotting one of the Skijigi staff waiting for you with a small smile.

With a curt nod, and a brief rush of embarrassment because surely they know why your darling boyfriend summoned you, you let them lead you through the bustling hall until they stopped a few feet in front of a door labeled ‘Stray Kids’ - the rest was up to you.

“Thank you,” you hummed softly, ducking your head in a small nod before knocking on the door, “Hyune? It’s me.”

You barely had the chance to let your hand fall away from the door before it swung open, a hand wrapping around your wrist before you were being pulled into the dressing room with the door slamming shut not even a second later.

“Hyunj-!”

Your shocked gasp of his name was cut off with a pair of lips slotting against yours, your body being crowded against the wall with hands on either side of you caging you in - though, just as you started to get over your initial shock to kiss him back, he pulled away with a bright smile.

“We won.”

“Y-Yeah,” you blinked back at him, willing your heart to be still as a small smile found its way onto your lips, “you guys were ama-”

His lips met yours again in a ravenous kiss, taking the off guard opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, brushing against yours in a heated taunt that promised more.

Your hands flew to hold onto his shoulders, your knees daring to give out from under you with the way he was trying to devour you as if you were his favorite meal.

“Mm- Hyune-”

His right hand dropped to lift your leg, the skirt of your dress raising as he hooked it over his slim waist; slotting himself between your legs effortlessly and grinding against your clothed core.

You couldn’t hide the shivering moan that escaped you, your head falling back against the wall, leaving his lips to occupy themselves with the free real estate of your neck. “God, baby…”

“Want you,” he breathed against your neck, licking at the beginnings of a hickey, “can I? Can I have you, my muse?”

You didn’t even have to think twice, nodding quickly and bringing your hands to his face to move him away from your neck for another breathtaking kiss.

Guiding your leg back to the floor, he blindly led you away from the wall before leading you toward the closest surface he had memory of; the makeup desk spanning the opposite wall. With careful steps, it wasn’t long before your lower back pressed against the edge of the desk, a disgruntled hum vibrating into his mouth as you bit his bottom lip.

Hyunjin groaned, a low, velvety sound that had your toes curling in your heels, and he pulled away just enough for his lips to still graze yours, “We have to be fast - on top, or bent over?”

“On top,” you breathed, a hand cupping the back of his head, “bend me over when we get back to the hotel.”

A grin stretched his lips, and within seconds the beautiful designer dress you wore was hiked up your legs and hips and you were sitting on the sturdy platform of the desk, the award winning artist quickly filling the space between your thighs.

His arm slid between your bodies and his fingers quickly found the damp crotch of your panties, simply tugging the gusset to the side to run his middle and ring fingers through your lips; collecting your arousal on the digits before slowly sinking them past your walls.

Your head fell back, lips parting to let an airy moan flutter through until his hand covered the lower half of your face, undoubtedly getting what remained of your lipstick on his palm in the process.

“My love, as much as I’d give anything to hear your pretty sounds, we should probably be quiet too, shouldn’t we?”

He didn’t wait to hear your response as his fingers set a steady pace, aiming to work you open as efficiently as possible while muffled moans vibrated against his palm.

Your nails grazed against the buzzed cut of his nape, the reminder of his fresh cut making your pussy clench around his fingers.

Tilting your head back down, you were met with his piercing gaze immediately; fiery brown eyes studying every little detail in your face that remained free of his hand.

“Are you going to be quiet if I move my hand?”

Eyes softening, your eyebrows sloped together and you nodded as best you could - you would.

Hyunjin freed your mouth in favor of tugging down the front of your dress, the straps having already fallen from your shoulders, allowing him to easily free your breasts from beneath the neckline. Licking his forefinger and thumb, he quickly found purchase on your left nipple; rolling the nub with intermittent pinches that had your back arching, silently begging him for more.

All the while, his fingers were stilled inside of you in favor of his thumb now gently flicking across your clit, not enough to overstimulate you on pleasure, but just enough to have your legs trembling at his hips.

“H-Hyunjin.” The whine tumbled softly from you, holding more words than you could say without letting the flurry of moans slip through as well - and he heard you clearly.

Sliding his fingers from inside of you, this hand expertly fiddled with his belt until it went slack around his hips, the button and zipper of his pants coming undone in less than a minute before they were shoved down with his boxer briefs just enough for him to free his dick; hard, dripping, and aching for your warmth.

He spread the remnants of your slick along his length before gripping the base, wasting no time in pressing the tip against your folds and pressing his hips forward, slowly but surely sheathing himself inside of your pussy.

Your hand flew to your mouth in record speed, clamping it shut just as a loud, wanton moan began to escape you - you never stood a chance once he was inside of you, his dick reaching the deepest parts of you, and with this position he felt even deeper.

He chuckled knowingly, gazing at you with a warm fondness despite his hand now gripping your hip like a vice, “You’re okay, love, just keep your hand there for me.”

Nodding once again, your free hand moved to hold onto the back of his neck as he adjusted his other hand to cup your breast instead, your sensitive nipple now rubbing against the smooth inside of his palm.

Without another moment of delay, he dragged his hips back slowly, biting back a sharp hiss as pleasure shot up his spine, before snapping forward twice as fast; jolting your body against the desk and sending a few stray makeup tools and products rattling. Repeating the process made a few objects fall, but neither one of you had the heart to care - at least, not in the moment as he set on a fast and deep pace that filled the dressing room with the sound of his skin against yours.

Your palm vibrated with the moans that flowed freely from you, the attempt of keeping them contained now seeming like a joke  - part of you wondered if offering him a blowjob instead would’ve sufficed, but after being witness to his borderline animalistic rhythm, the blowjob would wait for the hotel.

Hyunjin gritted his teeth, his head bowed beside yours as he directed all of his energy toward fucking you, reveling in the pinch of your nails against his neck, and the unrelenting clenching of your walls on every inward thrust.

“T-Thank you,” he grunted breathlessly, the hand keeping you anchored on the desk squeezing you more, “thank you, thank you, my love. Thank you for s-supporting me, for believing in me- f-fuck- Thank you.”

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you locked him in for shallow thrusts, wanting him closer - needing him closer; if you couldn’t use your words, then you would use your body.

His hand slid to your lower back, dragging you to the edge of the desk and giving him a better angle to hit, “You’re everything to me - do you know that? My muse, I mean it.”

Your hand slid up to his hair, past his undercut and into the once beautifully done ponytail, partially sliding the hair tie out of place in the process.

“N-No matter how many awards we win,” he lifted his head, prompting you to open your eyes and lock onto his entrancing gaze, “you’ll always be my greatest win.”

Dropping your hand, you pulled him into an earth shattering kiss, teeth and tongues clashing as your orgasm took you by storm; the only indicator being the rapid fluttering of your pussy around his cock.

He moaned into your mouth, releasing your breast to cradle the back of your neck - one, two, three thrusts rocking your body before he stilled with a choked groan, his dick twitching as his cum coated your walls.

As your breaths slowly came to a calm, so did the feverish motions of your lips, Hyunjin parting with a few pecks and gently untangling himself from your hold.

“How was it? Are you okay?”

Huffing out a breathless laugh, you gave him a glittering smile, “It was amazing, Hyune, and I’m more than okay, but I think we should clean up and head back to the others.”

Returning your smile, he slowly slid his softening length out of you, shivering slightly at the overstimulation before groaning at the bead of cum that budded from your slit.

Clocking the way his tongue peaked out to lick his lips, you laid your hand on his chest with an incredulous laugh, “No, we are cleaning up and meeting the rest of the boys!” You slid your hand from his hair and used it to tug your panties back into place, effectively cutting off his peep show for the time being.

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, tucking himself back into his underwear before working on fixing his pants back up.

“Oh, yeah?” Raising an eyebrow while managing to squeeze your breasts back into the slightly over stretched neckline, you cocked your head to the side, “I guess you don’t want to see what I have planned for the after party, then - since I’m no fun?”

The look of horrified betrayal that fell on his features was enough to send you into a giggle fit, which was more than enough for him to drop his act, giggling along with you.

After he helped you from the makeup desk, you helped him fix his ponytail while he used a makeup wipe to clear up any lipstick stains left on his skin - mourning their loss until you were both back in the safety of your shared hotel room.

“To the after party?” He mused, offering you his arm.

Looping your hand around it, you nodded happily, “To the after party.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee

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[carame1bunny]

𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔢

pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader

summary: Alastor comforts his little doe to sleep

warning: none! just some fluff and ooc Alastor:)

No one knew of Alastor’s little nightly ritual. After everyone went to sleep, he made his way down to the bar for a cold glass of whiskey. To clear his head and have some silence to himself.

Except, he wasn’t alone tonight…

Y/N was somewhat new at the Hazbin Hotel. She arrived in hell confused, disoriented and alone. She was wandering around the Vee tower, when she spotted the commercial on one of the televisions. A shelter she could go to. The Hazbin family took her in quickly and she enjoyed being there, she wasn’t cold, hungry, nor alone anymore. She was a big help to Charlie too, always helping her with the redemption exercises.

Alastor took notice of her the second he saw her. A deer like him, except that he was a big scary buck and she was a lovely doe. He never made a move on her, afraid that he would mess even a tiny bit with her sensitive little heart. But, he would always do little gestures for her. Helping her out here and there, and always stocking up on those little heart shaped chocolates she liked.

But back to tonight.

While he was on his way to the bar, he heard a little sniff from the parlor, he felt his heart tighten when he saw the doe curled up on the couch. Her little fluffy ears were hanging low and her pink nose was twitching sadly.

She didn’t even see the Radio Demon coming down, and her eyes widened when she heard his static voice.

“Is everything alright, my doe?” When she looked up, he was towering over her curled up position, and looking down at her with that lovey-dovey gaze, a rare sight to see.

“I’m okay, no biggie.” She tried to mush a smile onto her face, but he saw right through her.

He took a seat next to her and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to her, which she took gratefully.

“Don’t be shy. Feel free to tell me whatever is hurting your little heart.” When he said this, the dam broke. Her tears started flowing down her cheeks, and her lips were morphed into an adorable pout. “Oh, little doe.” He gathered her up in his arms and put her on his lap, she put her head on his chest. He felt her body shaking as she weeped in his arms.

His clawed hands gently caressed the top of her head, stroking her soft ears that were connected to her fluffy hair.

He spoke again, when her shaking lessened.

“Do tell, my dear, what got you so upset?” He said while he positioned her head, so she was looking up at him.

“I just had a long day. I was out, because Charlie needed more colored pencils and some guy on the street started talking to me.” Her lips wobbled again at the memory.

“What did he say?” He let her rest on his chest, and this way, she couldn’t see the way his face was turning into a more demonic expression. Who dared to h̴̩͛͒͆͑̐̄͂̀͝͝u̵͓͚̖͍͎͒̾̽́̈́̚̚͘ŗ̵̟͚̝͇͗̒̋́́̈́̀́t̵̨̤̺̟̳̝̔́̕͠ͅ ̷͈̩̔̾̐̾͐̂̑̕͜͝͠ḧ̷̨̖̪̲́͂̂̏́̈́̆͝ị̴̧̠̺͉̫͇̞̙̽̈ͅs̴̡̖͓̠͋̓̏̈́̒̕͘ ̶̳̳̘̘͚̭̳̟̪͙̏l̷̬̻̯͉̐̈́̃͘i̵̛̥̞̙̠̪̮̻t̴̡͎̮̬͍̦͕͑̐͗̈́̾̐͝ţ̷͎̥̪̻͕̠͓͉͈̇̈́̈͗̚̚l̴͉̎̿̐̇̆́͒́̆̃e̴͍̣̼̓ ̶̢̗͍̟͈̹̉̉̇͜d̶͙͉̻̗͚̬̦͎̖̖̂̀͊͝ơ̶̛̲̩̻͕̤̙̜̹͓̂͠ͅe̵͙̳̙̻̫̱̅͑͝?

“Disgusting things…”

He leaned back, so she was laying on his lap. With a snap of his fingers, a soft blanket was on her. “Well, you deserve to be treated nicely and gently.” He looked down into her doe eyes. “Don’t listen to those awful people, but if they dare to say another nasty word to you, just tell me. And I’ll make sure they won’t speak another word in their pathetic afterlife ever again.”

She smiled softly and snuggled between his shoulder blade and neck. She spoke with a sweet whisper. “Thank you, Alastor, truly.”

“No need, as I said, you deserve all the lovely things.” Her soft hair was tickling his neck, and he found himself nuzzling more into it.

“Sleep now, I’ll make sure to guard your dreams.” But he realized that her face was already relaxed and her breaths were even. He planted a kiss on her head, and her ears flattened from the softness of his lips.

“Good night, my doe.”

Yes, tomorrow he will make sure to find that bitch that disrespected her and hunt him down.