#I saw this text post and couldn’t resist

[marywardvvell]

[icepopstar5105us]

“It’s not real blood this time. Don’t freak out.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.

[twirlyleafs]

”Start of the season-drama” pt2

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: slight angst, raised voices

A/N: thank you sooo much for the support on part one!! doing a lil happy dance because of u xx

~~~~

Max had tried calling you over fifty times the past three days but you refused to answer. You didn’t know if it was because you were still upset with him or because you were just that ashamed, but you couldn’t find it in you to talk to him. You had hope that there was a reasonable explanation for the photos but no matter how hard you tried to come up with one they all ended with you heartbroken. You were terrified Max would confirm any of them.

You read his texts and listened to his voice messages, responding that you’d talk to him when he’d get back. When he threatened to take an early flight, missing the race, you told him he was being dramatic and then you wished him good luck. Max stopped trying to reach you after that.

You had called in sick to work Friday and Saturday, staying home to simultaneously write and watch the qualifying and the race. You weren’t surprised to see Max bring home another win, but you felt bad when you noticed his seemingly bad mood in the post-race interviews. You could just assume you were the reason for the constant frown on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.

Sunday afternoon rolled in and you were restless. The fact that Max would be arriving back home tomorrow was starting to freak you out and you forced yourself to keep busy at all times not to overthink everything more than you already were. Currently you were standing on your tiptoes on one of the bar chairs, dusting the top of the bookshelves that were lining one wall in the living room. It obviously hadn’t been done in years and didn’t necessarily need to be done now either, but it was something to do. You were so caught up in your work that you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door being unlocked, the bags being dropped on the floor or someone entering the room. Max stopped on the other side of the room, brows furrowed as he took you in. You were wearing one of his shirts, by the look of it one of his oldest ones and he knew you would’ve had to dug deep in the drawers for that one. As you reached the top shelf it rode up enough for him to see that you were wearing a pair of his boxers too and for some reason he melted slightly at the fact that you were dressed all in his clothes.

“Be careful.” You flinched, a gasp leaving your lips as your head spun around to follow the sudden sound. Max eyes widened as you wobbled for a second before regaining your balance and he thanked god he didn’t cause you to fall.

“Max, you’re home already?” You were confused, trying to figure out if your calculations had been wrong. He nodded, having to stop himself from walking over to help you as you climbed down from the chair.

“I took an early flight, left right after the podium.” He paused for a second, feeling the anger he’d felt for the past few days bubbling up again. “Felt a bit stressed to get back here since my girlfriend has been refusing to talk to me.” You bit down on the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Congrats on the win, you were-“ you began, but Max cut you off. He had told himself to keep calm, talk this through, but he felt the plan collapse almost immediately. He couldn’t deny the frustration.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want a congratulation from you y/n, I want an explanation! I want to know what the fuck happened on Thursday?” His voice was sharp, arms crossed over his chest. You looked away.

“What happened was that I wanted to come see you, but you said no.” You shrugged, the frown on your face deepening.

“I didn’t say no, I said it was unnecessary- that’s not even the issue here. The thing I’m most upset- confused over is you said I had some girl?”

“I saw the pictures Max.” You glared at him, all the hurt and confusion and anger from the past few days coming back. “I saw you with her.“

Max looked even more bewildered than a second ago, flailing his arms out in exasperation. “Who?! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your fucking date to the banquet!” You exclaimed, raising your voice to match his. “The girl you snuck away with when you didn’t think anyone would see!” Max just stared at you with wide eyes, lips opening and parting in confusion. You, however, took his silence as a sign of guilt. “I get that you’d want a girl who’s willing to follow you everywhere, who’s willing to give up her own life to be your trophy but fuck, Max, I thought you’d at least give me a heads up.”

”I didn’t bring a fucking date to the banquet, where are you getting this from? What fucking photos?”

Without another word you reached for your phone, searching up the tweet that started this whole mess. Zooming in on the photo where he was cupping her cheeks you handed him the phone, crossing your arms over your chest the second he grabbed it from you. Max stared down at the screen, eyebrows going up before they were pushed together. Slowly he looked up at you again.

“Baby-“ he began with a sigh, the apologetic tone of his voice had you assuming he was about to confess to cheating on you. The anger was quickly replaced with hurt and a shockwave of sadness. Suddenly your vision was watery and you took a step back, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Max seemed to understand, quickly shaking his head.

“It’s not what you think, not what it looks like.”

“Oh come on-“ you sniffed, but Max wouldn’t have it.

“No, I get how that sounds but just let me explain. That’s Rebecca, you’ve met her. Tommy’s daughter.” You had to rummaged through your brain for a second before you could place the name. Rebecca was the daughter of one of Redbulls mechanics. You’d met her a few times during races, she was a sweet girl. Your eyes widened slightly.

“Isn’t she like seventeen?”

“Yeah!”

You stared at him, even more chocked than a moment before. Max saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. A shiver ran up his spine at the realization of what you were thinking.

“God no! Not like that. She was at the banquet with Tommy but something happened, I think someone tried to pressure her into drinking and stuff- I met her when I came from the restroom and she was crying so I brought her out, away from everyone.” Max looked down at the photo again, frowning. “Away from the cameras, I thought. She was hyperventilating and I all could think about is when you’re having a panic attack so I did what I do then, I held her and I forced her to breathe with me.” When he looked back up you were already staring at him, lips slightly parted in chock. Max tossed your phone into the couch, taking a careful step closer to you. “That’s it. That’s all that happened. I did what you taught me.”

“God.” You let out a shaky breath, hiding your face behind your hands. Out of all the scenarios you’d constructed over the past few days, none even came close to this. Max hadn’t cheated, he hadn’t even been close to. He’d helped an innocent girl, doing for her what he always did for you when you suffered from anxiety. The guilt was slowly settling in your stomach. Max watched you softly shake your head before you carefully glanced at him between fingers. “Max I’m so sorry.” You saw him visibly relax when he realized you accepted his explanation and a second later he sunk down in the couch, seemingly exhausted. With a deep breath he leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Fuck.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did and why you were so mad and not once did it occur to me that it might’ve been this.” Things were quiet after that. You crawled up on the barstool, pulling your knee to your chest, as Max stayed half laying down in the couch. Leaning your cheek against your knee you watch his chest rise and fall slower and slower. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke again. “Did you think I cheated on you?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, making Max open his eyes to look at you. You felt your heart clench at the sad look on his face. “I love you Max, and I know you love me but-“

“But?” He asked softly, moving to sit up properly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and watched your through thick lashes. You took a deep breath.

“But sometimes I worry I’m not what you want. I know a lot of the others wife’s and girlfriends come to every race and you know, follow you guys around the world. I would understand if you’d want that too. You’re always talking about how I should quit my job and- well I saw the pictures and I guess all my insecurities came to life and I freaked out. I’m sorry.” You reached up to swiftly wipe away a stray tear and Max frowned. He reached a hand out, waving it as to call you over. You got the hint and slid down from the chair, carefully padding across the floor to him. The second you were within reach he pulled you down in his lap and you could practically feel yourself melt into him. God you’d missed having him close.

“You are everything I want.” Max mumbled against the top of your head and you felt shivers run up your spine. You opened your mouth to answer but quickly shut it again when you felt the lump in your throat, a few tears spilling over as you blinked. Max let his arms snake even tighter around you as he heard you sniff quietly against his chest. “I love how much you value your job and I’m so proud of you for actually being able to handle both studying and working at the same time.” You felt his fingers press softly into your side as he spoke, voice hushed and gentle. “I tell the guys all the time how smart you are, how much I admire you.”

“But I’m never there for you.” You whispered and Max carefully shifted the two of you enough so that he could look down at you. His eyes flickered between yours, hand moving up to wipe your tears.

“You’re always there for me. Maybe not in person, but I always know I have you. Like you always know you have me, right?” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “I can race on my own, just like you work on your own. Whats important to me is that I get to come home to you.” He carefully picked an eyelash from your cheek as you processed his words. When he met your eyes again he offered a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “That being said, if I could I’d spend every second literally glued to your side but apparently that’s not healthy.” You laughed at that and the smile on Maxs face widened. With something between a sigh and a chuckle you dropped your forehead back against his chest.

“I’m sorry again Maxie.” You mumbled against his shirt, feeling it vibrate as he hummed.

“Don’t worry about it schatje.” He pulled you with him to lay down in the couch and it barely took a second before the two of you were comfortably entangled in each other. “Honestly, it was kind of nice seeing you that jealous. It’s an achievement from my part, without even knowing.” He joked, earning another laugh from you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“First place the first two races of the season wasn’t enough achievements for you?”

The grin almost took up Maxs whole face and you giggled at the proud twinkle in his eyes. Before he had time to say something that would have you slap him, you leaned in to press your lips against his instead.

Max was home and everything was alright.

~~~~

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <333

@lpab @aexitizen-ln4 @buttfug213 @sxcretricciardo @hadthemapplebottomjeans @sunny44 @phantomxoxo @sunnyfunnydemon

[girlokwhatever]

HEY! I saw ur writers block post & i’ve been WAITING for someone to do a kate martin x fem reader fic based off of Uh Oh by Tate McRae!

PLEASE MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE

i’m a genie in a bottle bby 😜

༝༚༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ uh oh!,,

kate martin x fem!reader

you were swaying your body to the beat of whatever song they were playing at the club. you’d been dancing with his guy for a little while, your way of saying ‘thanks’ after he bought you a couple of drinks.

you could feel kate’s eyes watching your every move. your body grew hot under her gaze and it only encouraged you to keep going, knowing the affect it would have on her. you finally gave into her, allowing your eyes to wander and meet hers in an intense and highly intimate stare.

kate excuses herself, walking to the bathroom hoping knowing you’d follow. she knows you too well, probably from the numerous other nights you’ve been in this situation, because you do follow. forgetting about the guy, you push through sweaty bodies to get to her. before you step into the bathroom after her, you consider your actions.

fuck it.

you push through the door and she’s already waiting for you, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. the door locks behind you as you step closer to her, letting your attraction and lust for the woman in front of you control your actions. the feeling of her hands on you is too intoxicating; you can hardly remember the moments leading up to this.

“want you so bad,”

she’s whispering in your ear about how amazing you look, palming at your tits and tugging your shirt off. you can’t feel anything but her, just her.

her heavy breaths hitting your skin, her warm hands pulling your clothes off, her lips on yours, tongue on your body. your whole body was on fire, slowly slipping back into this cycle with her that you said you wouldn’t.

uh oh.

last night after leaving the club kate dropped you back off at your dorm. she tried telling herself that she wouldn’t give into you, but she did. and she knew she would again.

you woke up to a text from kate, deciding to ignore it and move on with your day. you definitely drank too much last night, feeling the effects of it on you as you walk to class.

kate texted you a few more times during class, even calling once. when she called you again after class your resistance was beginning to wane. every second you spent with kate was satisfactory for you, but you couldn’t let something that started out as a one-night stand take over your life.

you kept telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

a few days later kate showed up to your dorm, knocking until you answered.

“kate? what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer with words, surging forward to connect your lips with her own. it was needy and hot, everything moving so fast paced as she closes your door with her foot.

“jump.” and you do as she says, adding fuel to the fire that keeps your flame burning. you can’t focus on anything but her and how she tastes against your tongue. your head spins when she drops you down on your bed like she owns this space, and in a way she does.

“kate-” you’re trying to be reasonable, trying to keep the few day streak of not giving in alive.

“just let me have this please. let me have you.”

and you let her. you’re doing it again.

uh oh.

she left that night when you were sleeping, leaving a note thanking you for a ‘good time.’ after reading it through you made a promise to yourself that it was the last time.

when you saw her a few weeks later you knew you’d end up breaking your promise. she looked too good, hair in a bun and legs clad in cargos. she saw you too, instantly feeling drawn to your half of the floor. she didn’t hesitate to find you immediately, noting that the both of you were a little too drunk for your own good.

“wanna dance?”

you scoff at her and she’s playfully rolling her eyes, pulling you to the middle of the party dance floor anyway. you don’t resist, letting her hands guide you where she wants you like you do every time.

you’d been doing so good at avoiding her, but now that she’s here all your efforts slip away. even though all your hard work is in the drain, you make the realization that you don’t care much.

“just have fun.” and you do.

her hands find solace on your hips, pulling you against her as your body moves to the rhythm of the music. kate loves the way you feel against her, deep down knowing she doesn’t ever want to have to live without it.

both of your friends know of your infatuations for each other, noting every time both of you happened to disappear at the same time. that’s why when kate pulled you out of the back door of the bar they didn’t question where she’d gone.

“wanna go to my place?” she asks you, breathless from making out with you after pushing you against the brick wall of the building.

“i need to go back to my place kate..”

your hands hold the sides of her face and she knows you’re lying when you pull her back in for another kiss. you really can’t help yourself when it comes to her, allowing her to take you back to her dorm. you’d say yes to anything to asks you and you’re not sure if that’s the alcohol or just you. it doesn’t really matter to you.

you walk through her door, remembering this place from a few months ago. she’s behind you, trailing hands up your shirt as she kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulder. she wishes she could crawl under your skin, fearing that moments like these will never end her desire to have you.

before you know it, you’re naked on her couch. her tongue pushes in and out of your leaking cunt and you’re crying out her name, hoping no one can hear you. kate’s thumb circles your clit and you feel your whole body pulsate, jumbling your words while trying to tell her you’re ’gonna cum.’

she takes everything you give her, licking every inch of your skin until you’re raw. kate thinks to herself about how pretty you are spread open for her and it makes her want to ask you to stay.

she doesn’t say anything though, just pulling your clothes back on for you and laying your body on top of hers. you might leave when you come to your senses and she knows that. she knows you’ll both tell yourselves it won’t happen again, but it always does.

neither of you mind much.

uh oh.

⚘‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾⭒❃.✮:▹♥*♡∞:｡.｡

hey girly pops i’m kinda proud of this..

i hope whoever requested it really likes it!!! 😘

[dejwrldarchived]

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ no distractions, ushijima wakatoshi x black fem reader / nsfw + mdni

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, established relationship (reader & ushijima are engaged), just some thoughts, quick drabble, mentions of reader being an influencer, nicknames (reader calls ushijima bear), alluding to smut but it ain't long just a paragraph or two, mentions unprotected intercourse, unedited, consider this a sorry for how long it's taking me to drop part 2 of marry you

He understood why Coach Susaku decided to rent out a traditional Japanese home for some of the players. Most likely to keep a close eye on some of them to ensure they make it to practice on time, keep their heads screwed on correctly before the season comes, and have no distractions.

He wasn't the one prone to break rules, especially with the start of the season so soon (in three days to be exact)—but he just missed her so much that he couldn't resist. A hot shower and an eager you up text later, he's guiding her in the darkness attempting to make as little sound as possible. Which he was sure was impossible because he weighed in at a whopping one hundred and ninety-nine pounds of muscle and was over six feet tall. Moving around stealthily even if he tried was going to be a challenge.

He wanted to mentally curse himself for switching rooms with Kageyama because he wouldn’t have to worry about going up the stairs. His original room was right down from the kitchen, closer to the back entrance of the house that was connected to the way of the hot springs. So here a 6’3, Ushijima was tip toeing up stairs the best he could so he can get to his room upstairs.

When him and his girlfriend finally made it to his room, he finally let out a sigh of relief. The first hardest thing he did tonight was done and he had to only worry about sneaking her back out before everyone else woke up the following morning. His muscular toned thighs can already feel the burn of the laps his coach was going to make him take if he found out he snuck his fiancé in a home where no distractions was allowed.

She was his distraction. He couldn’t help that he was strolling on social media and saw her post from earlier and his body got warm all over. He couldn’t help that he missed his girl. His true love. His other half. The two of them being so busy with their schedules by time they settled in bed, they’re snuggled up together or on their sides of the bed sleeping. Now that he was on the road, it felt like they were drifting apart. Not in a bad way, but more-so a way where their careers had them on a nonstop roller coaster. If he wasn’t away for a game, she was at a brand event in London. If she wasn’t at a brand event, he was training and practicing for a game.

“My bear is breaking the rules for little ole’ me. I feel flattered that he’s risking the most gruesome workout punishment for me.” Y/N giggles lowly while gently placing her sandals on the floor. She discarded them at the door to make the journey up here a little easier for the both of them.

Wakatoshi always cringes when she calls him that, but his cheeks always mask the cringe look he gives us by staining a rose pink color every time it rolls off her tongue. A silly nickname she gave him when they made their first red carpet debut. Quote on quote because of how big and stoic he was when they first met.

“Shh.” He brought his finger to his lips. “Not too loud. Hirugami’s room right across from mine.” He warns her before he’s sliding his white t-shirt off his upper half to get comfortable on the futon below him.

Y/N who came over here in just leggings and one of Wakatoshi’s worn out sweatshirts would nod and begin to slide her leggings off her legs. Ushijima felt like a horn dog for even looking, but who could blame him? They haven’t had sex in weeks. But he didn’t invite her over and possibly broke a house rule for that. He just missed her. Plus, he slept ten times better when she was in close proximity of him.

He climbed under the duvet first before she followed snuggling close to him. The warmth of her body forced Wakatoshi to swallow the harden lump that formed in his throat. His fingers running comforting circles on her body. They’re breathing practically in sync with the crickets that chirped outside.

“How the hell am I going to sneak out of here tomorrow?” She asks quietly.

“Just have to wake up early before everyone else does.” He responds placing a kiss at the crown of her head. The scent of her coconut scented conditioner engulfed his nose in a good way. A comforting way.

He had known she must have rushed over here because she didn’t bring her scarf for her hair. She simply just came with herself and her tote bag.

“I’m not much of a morning person, but perhaps that’s the consequence of sneaking in here.” She snuggles closer to him and lets out a satisfied sigh after bringing her leg to intertwined with his. Her foot teasingly rubbing up and down his calves.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t hm me, you know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t cuddle with my favorite bear.” She says

“Stop with the feet thing,” Wakatoshi warns.

“Fine. But can I get a goodnight kiss before we go to sleep?”

Even in the darkness of the room, he can tell she’s poking her full lips out at his words. She came over here with intentions to rile him up in some type of way. While he thought they was simply going to cuddle and fall asleep, she had something else slithering up her sleeve. She wanted him, which of course made sense. Her texts within him being away oozed with need of him. With how busy they were they simply helped the need with FaceTime calls and invisible ink videos. he still remembered the voice note of her sultry voice moaning out his name while she toyed with her pussy.

So, he's giving her what she wanted. Large hand bridging at the nap of her neck and tugging her into a kiss. He missed the feeling of her lips on his. Soft, delicate, kissable. It always made him feel like he was on cloud nine—laying on the softest clouds, receiving the softest kisses from an angel above.

When the two of them get started, you never can stop them. Wakatoshi knew this. One little kiss turns into making out. Making out trembles to him being in between her stretch-marks decorated thighs. Here he was rubbing his hardened cock on her clothed folds teasing her until her panties stuck upon her pussy lips. Soon he was on top of her, deep inside of her as her teeth bite at his broad shoulders to muffle her moans.

For some reason, through the harsh bites from her—he thought it was so hot. The thought of her poorly attempting to be quiet so they won't get caught. But as soon as he pumped forward one last time, her head fell back into the pillow to let out a dragged-out moan that Ushijima quickly muffled with his hand.

"Are you trying to get us caught, hm?" Ushijima questions through inaudible grunts, his words hitting the shell of her ear and sending a chill down her spine.

When Ushijima looked into her eyes, he saw a glint in her eyes that he'd seen many times. She always had this thing where she challenged him—he has grown to notice she does it so he fuck her a little more harder. Nibble a bit harsher on her skin. Kiss more passionately. The woman was going to drive him insane.

"Fine then.." was the last thing Ushijima Wakatoshi mumbled under breathless pants before hooking her thighs under his strong arms.

His coach said no distractions and he fumbled not even the first day in. But he couldn't help himself, he had such a beautiful girlfriend that he just had to be near her when they did have time. If he had to endure the most tiresome practice drills, he would take that risk, especially for her.

Days when the season started, Ushijima Wakatoshi was forced to run laps until he could remember the last fifty brands Y/N collaborated with all because Nicollas Romero let it slip out in front of their coach that Ushijima had his girlfriend over.

[bad268]

Hi! Could you please write a Joao Felix x reader fic with this prompt "I thought bringing you roses would be romantic." "You really got these for me?" Either Joao or the reader can say the first line whichever you prefer and of course you don't have to write it if you don't want to. Only found your fics recently but already really loving them!❤️

Red Roses (Joao Felix X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/FCB

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! I'm glad you like them! Sorry for the wait <3)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1162

Summary: Red Roses (n): The most classic of them all, red roses symbolize passion and communicate love.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You were always known for sharing your affections through gifts. Anytime you saw something that reminded you of someone or you wanted to express gratitude for someone, you bought them something. It took a while, but you eventually learned that it was your love language.

When you met your boyfriend, Joao, you presented him with a single wildflower because the brightness of it reminded you of his smile. You told him that, and he immediately responded by asking you out. Now, you were going on three years strong.

Every once in a while, he would come home to random wrapped gifts or a bouquet (look at me go) of carnations or daisies on the table with a note. Those two flowers always remind you of him, so you can never resist, you said one time. Sometimes you were awake when he got there, but sometimes you were asleep or busy. He never judged, but he always waited to open the gift or read the note until you were awake or home. 

One day, he came back from an away game, and he was on cloud nine after the team won. It was the usual post-game feeling, he couldn’t help it. When he pushed open the door to your shared house, the lights were off, and there was no one there.

Now, he would not worry normally, but whenever you had plans, you texted him as such just in case he came home early. That’s the first red flag. Then he remembered telling you he would be back around this time, and you always try your best to be at the house when he comes home unless you have prior commitments. Even then, you communicate that with him. Red flag number two. Then, he goes into the kitchen, looking for the usual gift you leave for him, but there’s nothing. Not to say he always expected something from you, but it was something he always came to look forward to, especially after an away game. Third red flag.

That’s when he decided to call you. He pulled up your contact and immediately pressed call you. He could hear the ringing from inside the house. Your shared bedroom to be exact. Your phone was sitting on the bedside table, charging as it always is right before you go to bed. He double-checked around the house for you. The guest room, your office, the bathrooms, anything. He could not find you.

Now, he’s convinced you’re dead. 

He runs down towards the front door, and that is when he notices a small light coming from the backyard. Of course, you were out there, he thought. Why didn’t he think of that?

He gingerly opened the door to the back patio and there you were, standing and holding a bouget of red roses out for him. He slowly walked up to you, looking around at all of the lights you had set up in the couple of days he was out. When he reached you, he took the bouquet from your hands. 

"You really got these for me?" Joao whispered as he held one of your hands in his that was not holding the flowers. “Were you just waiting out here while I had a heart attack inside?”

"I thought bringing you red roses would be romantic," You laughed, “and were you inside this whole time? I thought you said you’d be home around 7?”

“I did,” He said, looking confused.

“It’s still only 6,” You trailed off. That’s when he looked at his watch, and yes, he was early. You were not even expecting him yet, so that would explain why you were not in the house.

“Oh,” he whispered to himself before changing the topic and pointing up at the twinkling lights, “Do you always sit outside when I’m gone? When did you set the lights up?”

“Only when I’m planning something,” You trailed off again as you pulled away from Joao.

“Don’t tell me the difference in flowers means you’re breaking up with me,” He gasped, dropping his hands and almost the flowers in the process. “Please, we can talk about this-”

“Maybe if you stopped overthinking everything and let me get to the punchline,” You chuckled as you grabbed his hand again, but still kept a little bit of space between you two. “You would know I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

“Oh, there’s a punchline to this?” Joao let out a breath as a nervous smile enveloped his features.

“There is, but you need to trust me,” You dragged out as you pulled away again. This time, he let you pull back with little resistance. “I need you to close your eyes.”

“Is this where I get killed? Or is this where you bring out a dog?”

“If I answer either of those, I will spoil the surprise.” He closed his eyes, but the look on his face was priceless. Guaranteed, he was thinking that he was getting a dog, but no. Well, maybe after this, but at this exact moment, no it’s not a dog. “Keep them shut.”

He closed his eyes tighter, if that was possible, while you ran off to the garden where you had some supplies for the surprise. You had not had the chance to get everything set up because he came early. You were sitting outside trying to figure out the layout, and just as you grabbed the flowers, he walked outside.

You grabbed the rose petals from the roses you had been growing and scattered them in a line leading to the center of the garden. You had everything ready there. The lights, the sign, and most importantly, the ring were there.

You were nervous, but you knew this was the next step. You were ready for it, so hopefully, he was too. You waited a minute, knowing he was impatient and would open his eyes without you even saying to. You expected this. 

Joao opened his eyes and saw the flower petal trail. Were those there when he first came out, he thought, and where did you go? They say that curiosity killed the cat, and he followed the trail to the middle of your garden. It was your ongoing project, and you took pride in everything that you grew in it. From flowers to fruits and veggies, your garden has it all. He never really went in it as it was your domain, so he found himself in awe of everything as he followed the trail.

At the end of the trail, he did not notice you at first. He was too busy looking around, but when he finally saw you, he froze.

There you were, on your knee, holding a ring out for him with a light-up sign behind you.

“Will you marry me?” It read. 

Needless to say, the roses were on the ground within a second as he ran to envelop you in a hug, whispering stings of “yes”s.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[venus-haze]

No Other Gods Before Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Love is everything. Love is God. Homelander is love. Maybe you are, too. 

Note: Gender neutral supe reader, and no descriptors are used. Takes place in season 1 during the Believe Expo. Inspired by Starlight’s comment that she didn’t have a crush on Homelander growing up because “he was like Jesus or something.” I'm sorry it took me so long to write another Homelander fic! Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship, power imbalance (unclear as to who, as the reader has unspecified psychic powers), warped elements of Christianity. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander saw them clear as day. The tears welling up in your eyes as you walked down to the baptismal pool. He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. For all of his pandering, he was never fond of religious types–especially religious supes. You should know better than to buy into this bullshit, a cheap substitute for simple minds that couldn’t comprehend the modern gods that put the miracles of every religious text to shame.

Still, he held out his gloved hand for you to take, and you did, gingerly, as if his physical presence would be too much to bear. 

Homelander had his fair share of admirers, but the reverent gleam in your eyes was nothing short of disarming. His name came from your lips in a soft, pious prayer before you hit the water.

You emerged from the chlorinated depths reborn, staring at him in a moment of blissful awe. “You are love,” you whispered, only loud enough so he could hear. And it stunned him. So much so that he couldn’t protest when you were ushered out of the pool, wet clothes clinging indecently to your skin. You disappeared with your fresh towel, and he resisted the urge to drown the rest of the devout in line to find you.

There was still time. Believe Expo wasn’t quite over yet. Surely you’d still be milling about, in some ridiculous prayer circle or buying one of the cheap trinkets the numerous grifters shilled. He’d never read the Bible, not all of it. Bits and pieces to understand what people were talking about, and a few feel-good verses up his sleeve for speeches and interviews. None of it made him understand what all of the fuss was about, anyway. Why his birthday wasn’t a months-long celebration, a cultural phenomenon. All Vought gave him was a TV special and a cake. It wasn’t the spectacular frenzy that people anticipated all year.

His fists clenched. 

He found a volunteer who didn’t look all that busy, and offered a selfie with them before asking a favor. People would do just about anything for him, regardless, but posing his demands as if they were helping him out tended to get things done faster. As soon as the words left his mouth, the volunteer set off to find you. He retreated to his dressing room, waiting impatiently for your arrival.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” you asked, your distant voice growing louder as you approached.

“Homelander’s the best,” the volunteer agreed.

“Don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“That warmth when you’re in his presence, something divine.”

“Well, he was chosen by God.”

“You don’t get it at all, do you,” you said, disappointment evident in your voice, just on the other side of his dressing room door.

He tried not to appear too eager when you entered, though you were in different clothes than before. Couldn’t expect you to spend the rest of the day walking around in soaking wet clothes, though part of him hoped you would.

“I knew we’d see each other again,” you said, not at all surprised by him summoning you.

He tilted his head, regarding you with suspicion. You didn’t seem like you were fucking with him, but he couldn’t be sure. “In the baptismal pool, you said I was love.”

You nodded. “Love is eternal. Love can conquer anything.”

“Love is God,” he said.

“I prayed to you, because I knew you could hear me,” you confessed quietly. “You’re the one.”

Your sincerity was genuine, the way your heart beat in time for him, tearful eyes glistening with an unprecedented devotion. Without an outstretched, gloved hand, he cupped your cheek, caressing it in his first act of blessing. Anointing you first. A ragged breath emerged from his parted lips. His dove, his lamb, his to guide and nurture the way these abstract figments couldn’t. You would be his Mary Magdalene, his Saint Paul, unceasingly devoted in your worship of him, proselytizing the good word to the masses. 

And why shouldn’t they worship him? Look at him with the same admiration and awe that you did? Power in the blood, his blood, to save and damn as he saw fit. After all, he didn’t need to die to offer salvation. No great sacrifices on his part to provide for those who were worthy. The sky had been empty when he explored it, all the way up past the atmosphere, farther than anyone could possibly go until he reached the vast emptiness of space itself and found himself alone. Homelander wasn’t an unknowable god. He walked among the masses, pandered to their sensitivities because he knew just how small and insignificant they were.

He’d read about the more extreme acts of devotion to gods in the past. Self-flagellation. Human sacrifice. Vows of poverty. Pathetic and desperate attempts to appease a supposedly powerful higher being who did nothing to help his people when they cried out for him. But Homelander was there. And just like you’d said, he could hear everything. He required so much less of people yet offered so much more. 

“You’re the only one who sees me for what I am,” he murmured. 

You nodded gently, your cheek rubbing against his glove. 

He leaned in to kiss you, and you reciprocated without hesitation, pressing your lips to his, allowing yourself unprecedented closeness with the divine. Consume and be healed, forgiven, saved. Kissing you felt purposeful, made his heart race and his brain feel fuzzy.

Warmth washed over him, and for a moment the suspicious part of him wondered if this divine haze was related to your powers. Something about being able to get into people’s heads, mess with their emotions. He wasn’t sure. There was no reason for you to be on his radar before the spiritual encounter.

When you whispered his name against his lips like a prayer, he nearly choked. Devout. Unconditional. He held onto you tightly, lips attached to yours in his own act of worship.

Love was everything. Love was God. Homelander was love. Maybe you were, too. 

[paingoes]

Rubies

Web 2.0

(Content: living weapon whumpee, guilt, conditioning, past abuse, caretaker new master)

Apollo had stayed true to his promise of making the room less sparse. He’d brought down books from upstairs so Delta would have something to do besides staring off into space whenever he locked himself in his room. He’d given him a journal too, which Delta found tremendously suspicious. Delta had a habit of destroying everything he’d ever written just as soon as he had finished. He would continue on in this tradition. Anyone having that kind of direct access to his thoughts terrified him. He was grateful for the books, though. 

It was Kitty who offered her old laptop.

“Don’t…look too hard through that,” She said with a nervous smile. She’d done all she could to reset it, but she couldn’t be sure there weren’t still some gems lying around in its SSD. 

Delta reflexively recoiled at the offer. There was such a strong impulse in his head to avoid getting caught with the laptop. It carried over now, even when freely offered. She left it on the desk for him. He would only use it in the dead of night, out of pure habit. It didn’t feel the same as it used to. It couldn’t hold his attention for very long.

There was a practical reason to reintroduce it, though. Kitty acted a bit furtive about it; Apollo said they weren’t supposed to be working. That’s what unpaid leave meant. But there wasn’t really anyone else they could kick it off to. They had to go through the archives. 

Kitty had already backed up everything he had posted publicly, plus all the exchanges they’d had in private. He’d focused in more once she’d mentioned it, agreeing it needed to be deleted as soon as possible so that there was nothing left to piece together about his alleged death. But there was other information on there that only he had access to, that they now needed to preserve before scrubbing.

katkittykat: ok we also were gonna try and offer u whistleblower immunity

katkittykat: but forget it i know u wont accept it

ndhakdvsnnd: im not a whistleblower

katkittykat: see what did i say 

ndhakdvsnnd: can you fuck off

They scrolled through the archived chat logs in dim silence. Kitty was sitting next to him on the floor with the new old laptop up on the coffee table. Neither of them needed to say it. It was weird to go through their old texts while in person. 

It wasn’t Kitty’s first time meeting an internet friend. She had done it more times than she could count. Almost all of them had been shyer and more reserved in person, so she had already expected Delta to follow in that trend. But it was clear that what was going on with him is a different beast entirely.

When she turned to look at him, his eyes were cast down again and his head was bowed. Loose strands fell in his face. He removed his hand from the touchpad, letting it rest in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I…shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“Just bants, man.” Kitty elbowed him — not a good idea. He winced, the pain reigniting in the handprint-shaped bruise around his upper arm.

“It was disrespectful.” He closed his eyes. It was guilt — not fear — that was audible in his voice.

“I’ve never done anything respectable,” she joked.

He opened his eyes to meet her own. His expression was wholly disbelieving. It wasn’t a joke to him. She remembered how sincerely he’d spoken the other day. Thank you for saving me. She’d tried to brush it off, but her heart had hurt badly afterwards. It hurt again now.

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” She had to resist the urge to squeeze his shoulder the way she would with her other friends; she saw how he had flinched whenever she touched him. Thankfully, he didn’t mention it again.

The loading icon went around and around as the account was deleted. Just as soon as it stopped, the home page of the forum appeared. In bold letters, it read Sign Up.

“You gonna make a new account?” She asked.

“Do you think I should?” His hand hovered over the button. 

“I dunno. You were active way before you started posting all the leaks. I thought you were having a good time with it,” she paused, “Guess it might be kind of touchy now though?”

It did make him really anxious to be on the computer. It made him feel too much like he was about to be caught out, as little sense as it made. He started to shrug, then stopped himself. Disrespectful.

“Yes, miss,” he agreed, “It’s…touchy.”

That was putting it mildly, but he had no desire to say more. He pocketed the thought, though. He probably would get back online later. It just felt like too much to do it now, without her explicit guidance. The thought alone was starting to overwhelm him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Can I go back in my room, miss?” He asked in a soft voice. 

“Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to ask.” She tried to reassure him. He’d gotten scared at some point; she could see it in the way he held himself. She didn’t really want for him to go off to deal with it alone, but she wasn’t going to force him to stay. She watched as he disappeared behind the door. He’d left the laptop behind. She shut it for him, then stretched upwards, climbing up onto the couch.

=======

“Does he talk to you?” Apollo would later ask her. He added, a bit dejectedly, “He doesn’t talk to me.”

“Nah.” She shook her head.

“Well, it’s still early,” Apollo started arguing with himself when she wouldn’t, “I guess he’s still scared. I’m not sure what I can say to him that isn’t going to sound trite. He always hated it when I tried say stuff like that to him over text. So defensive. I don’t know if it’ll go over better or worse now.”

She could tell he’d been thinking about it often. Fussing came so naturally to him. She’d liked it a lot when they were a little younger, when she was even crazier and badly needed someone to try and reel her back in. It isn’t lost on her that Delta has the exact opposite problem, that Apollo’s delimiting nature could have the opposite effect. He badly wanted for things to be clean.

“You shouldn’t take it purrsonally.” The pun slipped into her voice even when she was trying to be serious.

“I know,” he agreed, “I…don’t think he was allowed to talk before. It’s rude to speculate. I don’t want to be presumptuous. But.”

He threw his hands up at the wrists, not finishing the sentence. There was nothing to do but speculate. It was clear enough Delta had not been treated well; the bruises spoke for themselves. But the particulars of his behavior were a kind of puzzle box. He offered no key for it.

Galatea had dealt with Empire’s lot before, both refugees and defectors. Apollo had met many of them personally. There was always a stilted manner in which they spoke. The customs of Empire still remained enigmatic to all those living outside of it. Apollo had no way of telling how much of Delta’s behavior was just a cultural difference — or even a linguistic one — and how much of it was something deeper. He could not tell how much of it was motivated by fear or confusion or simple exhaustion. How much of it was what he wanted vs what he thought he was supposed to do. Apollo wished desperately for some kind of candor between them. Still, he understood that it would be asking a lot of him at that point. He sighed. 

========

The knock was soft and rhythmic. Delta jumped, immediately moving to hide the laptop beneath his blanket. It wasn’t as good as beneath the mattress, but decent enough on short notice. He mechanically slid off the bed, dropping onto his knees at the foot of it. The door did not open.

“Can I come in?” It was Apollo’s voice on the other side. Yes, obviously. It wasn’t locked.

“Yes, sir,” Delta answered anyway. 

Apollo pushed the door open. His eyes widened a little to see Delta kneeling, but he did not show the same visible alarm that he had before. He slid the door shut behind him, leaning back against it.

“I thought it might be good for us to talk,” Apollo said. He tried to read Delta’s body language, but it did not shift by much. Deliberately controlled. He didn’t answer, staring up at Apollo with huge eyes, patient and expectant. Apollo pushed himself on. It was trite, but if there really was any confusion about Delta’s position, it wouldn’t be right to leave him hanging.

“You can sit. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Levon told you he wasn’t going to hurt you, didn’t he? And you know that me and Kitty won’t either? You don’t have to be scared of us. You’re safe here.”

Delta didn’t move off of the ground. His head had lowered a little bit, as if he was being scolded. He didn’t take his eyes off of Apollo. 

Apollo squatted down onto his heels, trying to get to Delta’s level.

“Are you scared?” He asked.

“…Yes, sir.” Delta nodded slowly.

“Okay,” Apollo nodded too, rubbing his chin, “That’s okay. Can I ask why?”

Delta’s wrung his hands anxiously; it was a childhood habit, one he’d mostly gotten out of by the time he’d graduated. It’d returned with a vengeance.

“I don’t know.” He said shamefully. “Sir. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. I just wanted to check in on how you’re feeling. I can’t tell a lot of the time. You know you can talk to me or Kitty if you’re upset, right? We want you to be comfortable here. You can tell us if something is wrong.”

Apollo doubted it even as he said it. It seemed unlikely that Delta would come to them for anything, that he might not be physically capable of it at this point. But if he introduced the idea early — and reminded him often — it might start to sink in. For the time being, Delta did not respond.

“I’m assuming the kneeling is a habit, right?” Apollo ventured. Delta seemed a bit alarmed at the suggestion. 

“It’s just to be respectful. Sir.” Delta explained in a quiet voice.

He considered this. It might’ve been easier if it was just muscle memory, not a deliberate effort on Delta’s part. The mindset would be harder to get him out of. But Apollo was very glad that Delta had been willing to explain his reasoning to him. It was a good sign.

“Okay. You don’t have to,” He stated very clearly, “You can stand up. We won’t think it’s disrespectful. No one else will, either. You don’t have to do it.”

Again, not much changed in Delta’s expression. He offered the same quiet noise of affirmation, not voicing anything else. 

“Do you have any questions?” Apollo cursed himself for not asking sooner. But Delta didn’t take advantage of the opportunity the way he had hoped. 

“No, sir.” Delta folded his hands in his lap. He’d answered too soon. Apollo wondered if the question had come across as bullying. He got the sense he was starting to push too far out of Delta’s comfort zone. 

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything. Like I said, you can talk to us whenever. We’re right out here.” He stood up, feeling a little bad that Delta was still kneeling. He started to close the door.

He heard a soft “Thank you” just before it clicked shut.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat

[elvenbeard]

Kerry looked at the lack of new messages on his phone, not really impatient, not nervous, but something strange in-between... Full of anticipation, more like it. Right on the edge of where it was still exciting but also slowly turning into nerve-wracking agony.

It was almost 9 p.m., the music was blaring across the dancefloor the next room over, and even here, in this little hallway to the side, the laser show was still impressively bold. Private braindance cabins were lined up closely here, clients came and went, paid him little mind as they passed him by on their way in and back out of Lizzie’s Bar.

Not Kerry’s usual scene, admittedly. Not for lack of trying or interest, it was more this place in particular. The music, the crowd, the fashion and food… just awfully reminded him how fucking old he was. Usually, to make it through the night in a bar like this, he’d need a decent amount of booze, even better some candy, but currently that was still out of the question, as his date for the night hadn’t arrived yet… And damn, he was running late. Kerry wished he could say that was unusual. He hoped it was part of the plan, at least.

Or maybe he just had trouble finding him here… Kerry had decided to remove himself from the crowd a little, had noticed a few stares here and there. Not that he minded, but again, he was waiting still, and didn’t really want to mingle on his own, or worse, however unlikely it was in this place, spend the night giving autographs. He looked back on the screen, mindlessly scrolled through the last text messages…

“Hey handsome,” a voice purred next to him, pulled him back to reality. Had Kerry not instantly recognized it, he may have panicked, or just made up a blatant lie as to why he had to leave. Instead, he could finally slip his phone back in his pocket and looked up with a smile. A young man leaned against the wall right next to him, provocatively – he definitely fit in here better than Kerry did. Colorful hair and a cocky grin, striking amber eyes framed by smudgy dark eyeliner. Kerry only just managed to hold back the question where in his closet V had kept the neon-purple net-tanktop he wore, if he’d had it hidden in some box or corner. Knowing him though, he probably saw it in a store and had the idea for this mystery date-night before even buying it.

“You look bored. How come, in a place as interesting as this?” V, no, the mysterious stranger of course, asked. He lifted his hand to gently tug on Kerry’s jacket’s lapel. Kerry smiled.

“Hmm, guess I didn’t meet anyone that caught my interest yet,” he said, couldn’t resist reaching up to quickly brush his fingers along V’s arm, across his hand, squeeze his fingers just for a moment. He could see in V’s eyes that he was struggling to stay serious and cool, noticed the light flush of his cheeks. Kerry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well,” V said, pausing briefly, before looking Kerry in the eyes again, “Maybe I can be the one to make this night more interesting for you…”

Gently he took Kerry’s hand, and Kerry more than willingly followed as he led him to the dancefloor.

jasdökfhadfaf okay I haven't done something in this format for a while and it was really fun XD Sorry for the long post but yes!!

In my hc they often go on "mystery" dates like this, sometimes more elaborate scenarios like here with a secretive meeting in a location previously agreed upon. Sometimes it's just something simple as meeting for a coffee and pretending to be someone else or not knowing each other XD The tradition started at Caliente's when V was late and Kerry was (rightfully) mad, pretended he didn't know him and complained to him about how his boyfriend is never on time (because talking about difficult stuff like this "indirectly" with a stranger feels easier for some reason). Vince played along right away, also blaming the boyfriend for being really shitty and yeah XD It developed from there just into a fun thing to spice things up a bit now and then when normal life and appointments and all that stuff gets too overwhelming. A little escape from reality if you will (and simultaneously learning to appreciate reality again, too, because usually after a night out like that they're both exhausted and just happy to stay in and cuddle the next day xD).

IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM AND DONT DAYDREAM ABOUT THIS A LOT AT ALL BTW öakhjsdfdasfadösfhasdfdsfa I'll see myself out xDD

[4doll]

Billy Loomis NSFW headcanons 🥺

NSFW Billy Loomis Headcanons

His hands are always on your body, whispering praises into your skin. He absolutely worships you and your body.

He love seeing your face when you cum, it sends him closer to cumming. He loves seeing your fucked out face.

DUMBIFCATION!!! He loves fucking you dumb to the point you not being able to not even form a sentence. “I make you that dumb huh?”

He loves putting his fingers in your mouth after fingering you, “How good do you taste?” he just finds it hot

Fingering you when you’re needy and he can’t help you with his cock. Busy watching a new horror movie and you get horny for him in the middle of it? You’re riding his fingers while in his lap while his head is on your shoulder watching the movie as you pleasure yourself on him.

Full nelson when you get too tired to ride his cock. He only does it when he’s super needy for you and has enough energy.

Texts you in advance when he’s had a bad day and needs you. When he gets to your house he immediately is kissing you. Taking his frustrations out on you by pounding you into your mattress.

Sex in the kitchen when you’re home alone and he can come over. Fucking on the counter as he saw you making something and seeing your thighs and couldn’t resist.

Telling you to be quiet when he snuck in and you were needy for him. “Be quiet.. Don’t wanna be caught now do we? You wanted this cock and you’ll be quiet for it.”

Whenever your in a place that could have y’all caught he whispers stuff into your ear like “You wanna be caught don’t you? Want everyone to know who you’re such a whore for.” “Don’t want our friends to know what of a slut you are.” “Shhhh..” Stuffing his fingers in your mouth or making out with you to keep you quiet.

When he’s fingering you he’ll kiss you, trying to keep you quiet even if you’re home alone.

Will make you take all of his dick when he’s fucking your throat. No mercy.

Sloppy make out sessions while high or needy.

When Billy is needy he is needy he will not care if you’re busy, he will make you make time for him for you to ride his cock.

When he’s super needy he’s super touchy, his hands exploring your body while you ride him. Gripping onto your hips to keep him grounded in reality.

Loves watching your ass ripple from the sheer amount of power in his thrusts as he fucks you form the back. Slapping your ass occasionally.

Loves marking you. Hickeys and bruises from him gripping your hips or waist to help him with the thrusting, depending on the position.

Watching you cry from the pleasure he’s giving you makes him almost cum on the spot. While you mumble and go dumb while he fucks you turns him on so much.

a/n: sorry for not posting for a month! I totally lost motivation and I hope this will make up for me not posting </3

taglist: @strawbearyyyyysblog @starboashee @sojaae

[jaehyunsprincesspeach2]

“I miss you…”

Pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, slight angst, crying, mentions of food (snacks), happy ending, fluffy fluff

Word count: 1.5k

AN: I’ve had a few drabbles in my drafts that I have been meaning to post, so here’s another one for the night… I hope everyone is well, and that everyone is happy :)

Much love ~ember

~~~~~~~~~~

Dating an idol is hard. You knew this going into the relationship, but you couldn’t resist him. Hyunjin stole your heart. When the two of you met, you only saw him as a friend, but he knew from the first time he laid eyes on you, he wanted to be with you. After some time, getting to know Hyunjin and spending quality time with him, you couldn't help but fall for him. His personality, how passionate he gets, learning a new dance or showing you his drawings, his heart of gold. Everything about him captivated you over time, and you realized that he is the man of your dreams.

The two of you have only been together for a little over a year, yet the relationship is still hard for the both of you. Between Hyunjins schedules, and your own work life, times are busy, but the two of you manage to make things work. Of course, there are still times that the two of you miss each other, but being together, no matter the difficulties, is better than not being together at all. The love that is shared between the two of you overtakes any feelings of doubt or loneliness. A relationship that works for the two of you. One that always has. One that will always be.

Regardless, there are still times when you miss each other. With Stray Kids’ comeback, Hyunjin has been busier than normal, and he has been more exhausted. Typically the two of you call every night before falling asleep, or he shows up at your door to spend the night, but even that is beginning to slow down. Knowing Hyunjin and his schedules, you were not terribly worried about the relationship overall, but you couldn’t ignore the loneliness that you feel.

After another night without a call, and without seeing Hyunjin, you found yourself sitting outside looking at the stars, something that you do often when you don’t feel right. For some reason, looking at the night sky has always brought you an immense feeling of comfort, but tonight was different. Looking at the stars, you began crying. Everything reminding you of him. You have been bottling up your emotions for the last few weeks, saying that everything will pass soon and things will go back to normal. But seeing the stars, thinking about the dates Hyunjin has taken you on to the most beautiful places, and looking at the stars together, everything surfaced, and you could contain the sadness that you feel anymore.

After two hours of looking at the stars, and thinking about Hyunjin, you finally decide to retire to your bed for the night. When you wake up in the morning, you see the typical good morning text from Hyunjin, followed by an apology for not talking the previous night. Not wanting him to worry, you reassure him that you understand, and that everything is okay. The last thing you wanted is to worry Hyunjin, on top of the stress that he is already under with the comeback. You knew that if he worried about you, he would drop everything to see you. It was something that you loved about him, but you also knew that it was something that he couldn’t afford to do.

Before you know it, the tour arrives. You had seen Hyunjin occasionally throughout this time, but not nearly as much as either of you would like. He knew that you were upset, whether you told him or not. He knows you better than you know yourself, yet you still assured him that you were fine, and that he wasn’t going to lose you. The day Hyunjin left for tour, you went to the studio to see him, and the others off. Both of you attempting to hide the sadness that you feel. Trying to contain the tears that are stinging your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks. There is no doubt that Hyunjin could see how proud you are of him, but he could also see the sadness hiding in your eyes. Reading your emotions through your eyes was something that only he could do, and he was never wrong.

Before stepping on the bus, he wrapped you into a hug, and held you for as long as he could, making it harder for you to contain your tears.

“I'll be back in no time my love, and I'll call you every chance I get, and text you as much as possible.” He said, failing to contain his tears. “I love you. So much. I can’t even explain it. I love you.”

His rambling makes you giggle slightly, but that still didn't cover up your sniffles.

“I love you too, Jinnie. I'll be waiting for you to get back. Please don’t stress yourself out too much. I hope you have a great time.” Was all you could say before the tears threatened to spill over.

No matter how long the two of you have been together, seeing him leave never gets easier. Driving home, you cried the entire way. It’s not like you would never see him again, you know that he is always safe when he travels, and that there would be plenty of security around all of the guys, but you felt like part of you was lost when he was gone.

The next few weeks were hard. Hyunjin made every effort to talk to you, and regardless of the time difference, you would wait for him. Hearing his voice brought you a sense of comfort. Seeing his texts made your heart race. But even still, there was nothing that you wanted more than to be with him. Experiencing the things that make him happy, and making new memories together.

“I miss you so much, (y/n). I can’t wait to see you.” His sweet voice eased you and brought you comfort.

“I miss you too, but I'll see you soon. Can’t leave STAY behind, they need you too.” You reassured him, knowing that STAY would hate if he wasn't there.

Talking throughout the night, things felt normal again, even though he was so far physically, it was like he was just down the street. Still, you couldn’t wait till you could hold him again. The calls while he is gone were what gave you motivation to continue through your days like normal. The timing of the calls may be different, but it was still something that felt normal, in a relationship that was anything but that.

Creating a schedule of talking to Hyunjin at obscure times, things became easier. The loneliness that the two of you feel was alleviated with phone calls and texting, but it still was not the same as cuddling together watching a movie, or looking at the stars, or even silently hanging out together while he worked on a new drawing, and you read a new book.

Returning home from work, you get a rather uneasy feeling. Not that something bad was going to happen, rather something unexpected. Walking into your house, still full of suspicion, you enter rather cautiously. Seeing that everything seems normal, you proceed as you typically would. Entering your kitchen for a snack, your suspicious feeling is answered.

There he is. The love of your life. Standing in your kitchen with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and an arrangement of your favorite snacks.

Stunned, you freeze, trying to process the sight in front of you. Finally letting all of the thoughts and emotions settle in, you run to Hyunjin, jumping into his arms. Tears streaming down your face. Unable to say anything, the two of you stood in the kitchen in each other's embrace. Slight sniffles coming from both of you.

“I know I haven’t been around much lately. I’m sorry (y/n).” Still unable to talk, all you could do was shake your head, yet he continued.

“I’m sorry I have been so busy. I've been a terrible boyfriend. I should have spent more time with you before I left, I should have bought you more flowers, because you deserve all of the flowers in the wo……” His rambling is cut off by you pressing your lips to his.

“You are the greatest boyfriend, and I happen to be the luckiest person alive. I love you Jinnie. We knew that this relationship would be hard, but it’s worth it if I get to call you mine.” Your words calming him down, and reassuring him that the two of you were as strong as ever. Reassuring that he still gets to call you his. Reassuring him that you aren’t leaving him. He was overwhelmed with happiness, and joy. Embracing you, he was at a loss for words. Both of you were. Not wanting to let go, the two of you stood in the kitchen, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Finally returning to reality, Hyunjin grabbed your hand and led you outside to the back yard. As if the night couldn’t get better, there in the yard was a romantic picnic set up. A soft blanket, fairy lights, hanging in the trees, your favorite foods, pillows, even your favorite candles. Everything about it was impeccable, but what made it perfect was enjoying the moment with Hyunjin. It was perfect. He was perfect. There was nothing that could make the night more perfect. Your hearts are full of love. The love you could never have imagined would be yours, right in front of you.

[rui-drawsbox]

Okay obligatory DnD person as per the Dungon Meshi post(dnd/fantasy au + our life is amazing and I love it) but also I just wanted to say that there is a subclass of elves in dnd called aquatic elves that are kind of a happy mix between a mermaid and a, well, normal elf. I stick more towards spooky rather than nautical campaigns myself, so I’m not too familiar, but if I remember correctly they’re amphibious but with two legs rather than full mermaid.

Also obviously please ignore if you have different ideas but based off of what people have written about battle roles I could absolutely see some subclasses for the four!

Derek I could absolutely see as a Paladin(subclass possibly being oath of devotion or glory) basically the more defensive tank guys bound by an oath they make to themselves or someone important to them, which gives them a little spellcasting as well as actual auras that buff their allies later on.

Baxter I could see being a Bard (College of Swords), or what I kind of think of as a sort of battledancer. It would be a little less of a full spellcaster, but you can do special flourishes when fighting with a rapier which I always imagine as pseudo-dancing, plus he’d still get all the flashy bard spells. And to top it off, Bards actually use their charm(charisma stat) to cast spells which just screams Baxter to me.

Cove is a little harder but if you were going with him having a fish/animal companion while still being a melee fighter a Ranger(Beastmaster or Swarmkeeper) would be a good fit IMO, obviously with the Cove Creater he’s harder to pin than Baxter or Derek, but Ranger is pretty flexible. You basically get to choose a companion that’s from the land, air, or sea; and they can help you out in battle and follow you around, or as Swarmkeeper he could have his swarm be a school of fish.

Ruri is obviously a bit harder because you know your OC best, but if you really wanted to lean into more into the familiar/animal buddy route. Druid(circle of the shepherd) is always a fun choice! It’s kind of like the more spellcaster version of rangers’ Swarmkeeper where you can summon a lot of critters while still having some super strong elemental spells.

But anyway! I hope this wasn’t too long, I saw some (kinda) DnD our life content and I couldn’t resist! But thank you again for the adorable art of the main boys(and your lovely OC!) in a fantasy setting!

Second ask from dnd anon:

Oh! DnD anon part two!

But basically the theoretical party composition would look like:

Derek = Tank/Damage

Cove = Weapon Damage/Companion(s)

Baxter = Spells/Weapon Damage

and Ruri = Healing/Spells.

Also one last note about Druid is while druids have a lot of elemental spells (create water, spike growth, etc.), they also have the ability to do something called wildshape, where they can shapeshift into an animal for either out of battle(wildshape into a mouse to get under the crack in a door, then returning to normal and unlocking it) or battle (at later levels imagine fighting a spellcasting bear or even dragon) but also has more silly implications like wild shaping into a songbird to sing with Baxter, or a cat or sloth to ride on Cove’s shoulder.

got these asks a few days ago but i let them marinate in my brain hope you dont mind anon KJDSAUH

anyways AQUATIC ELF THATS PERFECT i tried to stick to what i knew about dumenshi rules in that post but for my first fantasy AU ideas i was going to do Cove a half mermaid (Cliff human x mermaid Kyra or elf Kyra [shes just so pretty its insane] x mermaid Cliff) that lived in a house right on the beach lmao, im happy that actually makes sense somewhere in dnd

i tried to look at the aquatic elves wiki from the forgotten realms fandom and omg so much text in the main page

also paladin Derek canon‼‼ imagine he does his oath to his brothers right after something dangerous happens to them when they were kids (im not saying his parents should die but im not saying they shouldnt--)

and bam!! tragic backstory 10x worse than his canon that is already bad enough :DD (try to make him feel less responsable now i wanna see that)

baxter turn rn. DO YOU THINK HE WOULD PLAY VIOLIN? I WANNA SEE THAT (<-this person didnt thought about drawing him with an instrument until it was time to write her thoughts) anyway it would def be a fancy instrument, daddy and mommy wanted to keep appearances i bet

one his spells makes his sword and moves shine and when hes under the sun his enemies become fucking blind

everything about him screams I HAVE MONEY but everytime people try to rob him he just rolls a nat20 in persuasion and they end up giving him money

and omg just imagine Cove's school of fish are all his pet fishes from the game JGASDFJK

im also. not discussing roles when the most i know about dnd is bg3 and i just finished 2 playthroughs. if you say ruri is a druid she's a druid, she makes super artsy flower fields and decorates every tree she sees with organical paint or smth jkfhds

Ruri's forest has a tree that connects with the ocean and they both just hangout sometimes (as if theyre not together 60% of the time already)

DRUID RURI THAT LIKES TO BRAID COVE'S HAIR WITH LITTLE POPPIES‼‼‼

MERMAID COVE THAT LETS RURI (otter form!!) RIDE HIS BACK WHILE HE SWIMS‼‼‼‼

mermaid cove humming a song and ruri falling to the river in trance/j

anyways anon i agree with everything tbh, there's so many ways to do a fantasy AU and i adore the dnd version (id kill for a dnd group or smth in my city)

i also have another fantasy au more vanilla but not-really. basically isekai baxter LMAO mostly an excuse to make ruri and baxter being domestic but before baxter developed any real domestic skill JHASFD

[trulybetty]

dec' x 28 - snowman

Prompt: snowman Pairing: sequins!joel x reader Word Count: 1,253 Warnings: domesticity, baby girl miller, really loose fit of the prompt, festive fluff. Summary: Joel Miller in an ugly Christmas sweater. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

“You promised me,” Joel muttered, eyeing the sweater.

“I did,” you acknowledged with a knowing smile, remembering the promise you made to avoid matching outfits. 

“Then please explain why darlin’ I’m looking at some ridiculous sweatshirt?”

“But you didn’t make Sarah promise you.”

He groaned, a sound that was half-resigned, half-amused. “Do I have to wear it?”

You leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, feeling them curve into a reluctant smile. “You know the answer to that,” you replied, pulling on your own matching sweater. You caught the brief look of disappointment on his face as he lost sight of you in your bra.

The sweater was admittedly garish, bright red with stitched snowmen and snowflakes, but as you all got dressed, even Joel couldn’t resist a smile. The baby looked adorable, snug in a miniature version of the sweater, alternating her tiny fists into her gummy mouth.

Much like the festivities in October, Sarah was championing another set of traditions for your small family and its new arrival. She’d been begging for a family Santa photo for weeks. You’d mentioned casually bringing the baby to the mall for a photo alongside Sarah. The words hadn’t finished leaving your lips before Sarah had exclaimed the words ‘matching christmas sweaters’.

Joel had put his foot down over dinner that night, remnants from Thanksgiving you’d hosted for your family in town for the holidays two days before. Though it hadn’t taken much time for Sarah to sweet talk him into her festive plan.  

“On one condition,” he said around a mouthful of leftover turkey, “you don’t go posting these everywhere,” he conceded with a wave of his fork.

Sarah had been practically buzzing with excitement and with no delay had started bombarding the two of you with ideas from her Pinterest board she’d curated, it’d actually been somewhat impressive. She’d even allowed Joel the choice of sweater from her shortlist, unbeknownst to him that she had fixed it for him to pick her favourite. It had needn’t of mattered, for Sara Joel would hang the moon if it made her smile.

Later that night, Sarah posted the picture to Instagram despite her promise to her father. She showed you the post with a caption that read, ‘First family Christmas with my baby sister! #MatchingSweaters #FamilyGoals.’

“Didn’t you promise not to post it?” you’d asked, despite already having pulled up a website to create a Christmas card from the very same image.

Sarah gave you a devilish grin that was unmistakably all Joel, “He’s got no clue how to use the internet,” you raised an eyebrow as she doubled over, laughing at her own joke, “He’ll never see this!”

It was later that evening, the baby sleeping soundly and Sara in her room FaceTiming with her mother, when you and Joel were sat in front of the TV watching some action movie you’d conceded on to avoid half of an hour of back and forth. 

You were absently scrolling through your phone when Joel’s phone on the coffee table started to buzz with notifications. Joel groaned as he leaned forward to pick up his phone when it didn’t fall silent after the first notification.

“I should just switch the damn thing off,” he grumbled as he reluctantly slipped on his glasses when he realized he couldn’t clearly read the text.

‘Joel! Saw the Christmas pic, nice sweater!’ the message read, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

Joel looked at the phone with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “How did they even find that picture?” he muttered, half to himself.

You leaned over, peering at the text. “Aww, they’re excited for you.”

A new text came in, this time from Tommy that was just simply a string of emojis. 

Joel shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face despite his attempt to look annoyed. “I don’t even know how I got into this chat. Or how to even get out of it.”

The teasing from the group chat continued a playful ribbing that was clearly grounded in affection. They were genuinely happy for him, for the life he had built with you, Sarah and the new baby. As the messages ran back and forth, poking fun at his sweater and the ‘adorable’ family picture, Joel couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and contentment.

You watched as his eyes softened while scrolling through the messages. “You secretly love it, don’t you?” you teased.

He looked up, the mock gruffness in his expression failing to mask the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe just a little,” he admitted. “But don’t tell Sarah,” a smirk on his lips. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

[ask-missparker]

I Remember It All Too Well..

SpiderMan Far From Home

Setting: Phase 3– Post Endgame

Continuing this post

~

Pairing: Quinten Beck x Amelia M. Parker

~~~

Take a break she says, it’ll be fun she says..

Nothing on the schedule said anything about being dragged into SHIELD work, taking care of a bunch of teenagers and seeing in person you haven’t talked to in years…

It was late at night.

Most of the students and teachers were at the hotel probably asleep, and here stood Amelia taking a walk, scouting the sights for the trip. As well as snapping pictures for Fury.

She wasn’t even technically working for Fury anymore and yet, she was still be given orders by her old boss. Hill wasn’t even far behind.

And what made it worse than Fury’s orders, was the man that was supposedly working with them on this new project.

Beck.

She swear that moment she heard his name and saw his face, she froze. His hair was longer than she thought, his built was carved out within a green silk suit, and the polished attuned ways of talking to them.

Every word he uttered could’ve easily been a lie.

But then again, she wasn’t seen him in years. Hell, they didn’t really know too much about one another, as their relationship only lasted a few short months.

She wish she could just—

“Didn’t expect to see you here at this timely hour?”

She whipped her head around to notice him floating down from the steps and catching up to her feet quickly enough. He took that moment to study her features, her hair was darker, her facial expression were more angular than her softer appearance years before, and her eyes still spoke the same tone of the day they first held hands.

Beck couldn’t resist the sudden thought of the moment he stupidly broke her heart. He broke up with the girl over a text message and kept her scarf from the very first week, as it seemed like innocence, but smelled like her.

Everything felt like a blur now.

Each bad moment seemed like a thousand words different from the good.

Blurry lines and blurry images came into play as he watched her eyes scan his very own.

“Is this the part where you tell me that you were wrong and I was right? That you shouldn’t have stood there clueless when I walked in.” Amelia responded ever so softly and shrugged.

He sighed as a small scoff came under his lips, “I had no clue you were coming here. I didn’t even want you to get in involved with any of this.”

“A little too late…”

“Yeah, right, I didn’t want anyone in there to suspect that we had something going on beforehand. So I had to act stupid, sorry.”

“Alright. I guess that’s fair…you look, good.”

“I feel good…you um, you look like you haven’t aged a day. Still the same pretty face I met all those years ago.”

She scoffed as a light smile brushed against her face, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Beck.”

“Eh, had to try to make up for earlier.” He replied, smiling, as he declared that he’ll follow beside on this walk.

“…you don’t have to walk with me. I can handle myself.”

“I know. But I want to. I want to…apologize for everything.”

“Hmm how so?”

“I wasn’t sure what I had until I lost you twice..I wished that I was good enough to realize it.”

“Tell me more, tell me something I don’t know…”

“I was upset, confused and frustrated…I wasn’t appreciative of you, how you treated me so well…”

“We both had issues..I’m sorry if I offended you any further than I did, especially when we fought..”

“And I forgive you for it.”

The two smiled and nodded.

“You remember how much you would waste my time?” He said softly chuckled.

She looked at him lightly chuckling, “We wasted it right. I would take you out for coffee and you would cuddle with me at the cafe.”

“Then I would take us to my place for computer sessions, securing models for my new ideas…and I would’ve ordered us some burgers…I miss those days..I wished I told you that before..”

“Then time went on, we got busy, we would fight..I thought…I just wished you cared a little more, where you could stayed longer...I got tired waiting for us to move forward or do something else..”

“But you liked it…coming over to my place when nobody was home, find me coding or working on a new invention..we would just stay a while on the floor working…”

“Yeah..”

“You know, I did want us to eventually move forward, do something bigger…I wanted to buy us a bigger space..i had a gift for you too..”

That struck a chord with Amelia.

“A gift?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at his tall frame.

He half smiled, “I had a bracelet...I was planning on giving to you some time that summer..but I broke it off..”

“Why did you?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you break off with me? Over text? I tried calling but you never answered.”

“I just wasn’t in the right place at the time…work was hard, we were both very busy…I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

“And you weren’t even honest enough to tell me more about you..”

“The being from another earth thing..yeah, I was gonna tell you soon. But it never came up.”

“Which I don’t believe is fully true and neither is the power thing. But I will go along with whatever it is that you’re saying.”

The two just looked at each other, staring into one another’s eyes as if searching for answers…

—

———

Ahh that’s all folks! Let me know what you think 💭

TAGS: @blueboirick @rickb-chaos @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @ask-starrk @meiramel @gcthvile @cherrysft @wizzzardofoz @luna-d-marsh

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 7

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

He remembered the first time he had unpinned Jokaste’s hair, the feel of it falling over his fingers, and the memory tangled with a stirring of arousal, which a moment later became a jolt, as he found himself confusing blond hair with brown, remembering the moment downstairs when Laurent had pushed forward almost into his lap.

oh i think someone mentioned that there’s a reference to jokaste having brown hair that never got edited out! this must be it. also, damen likes blondes mention #7. the first of this book!

He shrugged on his shirt and jacket, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was gentle when he put a hand on Laurent’s shoulder.

screaming into a paper bag

Except that the next balcony was perhaps eight feet away, further than was comfortable considering that the jump had to be made from a standing start. Laurent was already judging the distance, calm-eyed. ‘Can you make it?’ Damen asked him. ‘Probably,’ Laurent said.

i love his whole “probably” thing. it’s the game he likes!! the small victories!!

He turned back. Laurent was wasting a precious few seconds re-judging the distance. Damen suddenly realised that ‘probably’ did not mean ‘definitely’, and that in answering Damen’s question, Laurent had calmly given a truthful assessment of his own abilities. Damen felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Laurent jumped; it was a long way, and things like height mattered, as did the propulsion that came from muscle power. He landed badly. Damen instinctively grabbed hold of him and felt Laurent surrender his weight to Damen’s grasp, clutching at him. He’d had the wind knocked out of him by the railing of the balcony. He didn’t resist when Damen hauled him up and over, nor did he immediately pull away, just stood breathless in Damen’s arms.

some real catlike behavior from laurent here

Damen suppressed the urge to groan. The whole length of Laurent’s body was flush against his own, thigh against thigh, chest against chest. Breathing was dangerous. Damen needed, increasingly, to interpose a safe distance between their bodies, to push Laurent forcefully away, and couldn’t. Laurent, oblivious, shifted slightly, to look behind himself and view the proximity of the shutter. Stop moving around, Damen almost said; only some thin thread of self-preservation prevented him from speaking aloud. Laurent shifted again, having seen, as Damen saw, no way for them to squeeze out of hiding without giving themselves away. And then Laurent said, in a very quiet, very careful voice, ‘This is . . . not ideal.'

i love how laurent is entirely oblivious here. he’s doing 5d chess in his head while damen’s just trying not to moan

That was an understatement. They were hidden from Volo, but they could be seen very clearly from the other balcony, and the men pursuing them were somewhere in the inn by now. And there were other imperatives.

HMMMM damen what kind of imperatives do you mean??? want to share with the class???

‘Stay back, old man. It isn’t your business. This is the Prince of Vere.’ ‘But—I only paid three coppers for him,’ said Volo, sounding confused.

Damen felt Laurent start shaking against him, and realised that, silently, helplessly, he was laughing. There came the sound of at least two more sets of footsteps striding into the room, greeted with: ‘Here he is. We found him fucking this derelict, disguised as the tavern prostitute.’ ‘This is the tavern prostitute. You idiot, the Prince of Vere is so celibate I doubt he even touches himself once every ten years. You. We’re looking for two men. One was a barbarian soldier, a giant animal. The other was blond. Not like this boy. Attractive.’ ‘There was a blond lord’s pet downstairs,’ said Volo. ‘Brained like a pea and easy to hoodwink. I don’t think he was the Prince.’ ‘I wouldn’t call him blond. More like mousy. And he wasn’t that attractive,’ said the boy, sulkily. The shaking, progressively, had worsened. ‘Stop enjoying yourself,’ Damen murmured. ‘We’re going to be killed, any minute.’ ‘Giant animal,’ said Laurent. ‘Stop it.’

i love how we got from book 1 to this exact moment, and like we really GOT here. it feels earned. like this wouldn’t be nearly as funny or rewarding to read if it stood alone. nothing too insightful to say here, this just makes me happy :)

He found himself laughing a little breathlessly, and saw his expression twinned on Laurent’s face. Laurent’s blue eyes were full of mischief.

<3

‘I think we’re safe,’ said Damen. ‘Somehow, no one saw us.’ ‘But I told you. It’s the game I like,’ said Laurent, and with the toe of his boot he deliberately pushed a loose roof tile until it slid off the rooftop and shattered in the street below. ‘They’re on the roof!’ came the call from below.

CAT. BEHAVIOR.

Laurent sent another roof tile into the street, aimed this time. From below, a yelp of alarm.

this entire scene supports my “modern au laurent is a gamer” agenda

‘Wait. It’s too exposed. You stand out, in this light. Your mousy hair’s like a beacon.’

HA he’s quoting the house boy!

Damen felt it then, the first dizzy edge of new emotion, and he let go his hold of Laurent like a man fearing a precipice; and yet was helpless.

i like how this wave of Oh No I Have Feelings comes from laurent being clever and competent, rather than blonde and pretty. it really speaks to damen’s true values—he might be a lot more sexually motivated than laurent, but he really does see and care for him as a person first. we just don’t hear that in words, because his point of view lacks the self-awareness to spell it out for us. but he does have the awareness to remark, often, that laurent is very pretty.

He said, ‘We can’t. Didn’t you hear it, earlier? They’ve split up.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I mean if the idea is to lead them on a merry chase through the town so that they don’t follow your messenger, it’s not working. They’ve split their attention.’ ‘I,’ said Laurent. He was gazing at Damen. ‘You have very good ears.’

oooh a moment where damen fully knows something laurent doesn’t! and his knowledge directly ensures the success of laurent’s plan! laurent won’t admit this outright, though, and will only settle on a half-compliment. instead of saying that damen saved them both by noticing, he just tells damen that he only knows better because he has good ears.

‘If I wanted to escape,’ said Damen, ‘I could have tonight. While you bathed. While you slept.’ ‘I know that,’ said Laurent.

they make me crazyyyy

‘You can’t be in two places at once,’ said Damen. ‘We need to separate.’ ‘It’s too important,’ said Laurent. ‘Trust me,’ said Damen. Laurent looked at him for a long moment without speaking. ‘We’ll wait for you for a day at Nesson,’ Laurent said, eventually. ‘After that, catch up.’

1) oh, you KNOW laurent fully accepted that this was goodbye. he has zero expectation for damen to come back.

2) BUT he does trust damen to curb the people after the messenger, which is by his own admission a very important task.

in other words, laurent knows and trusts that damen will do the right thing here—he just doesn’t consider coming back to him (laurent) to be the right thing for damen to do. laurent doesn’t trust anyone to stay by his side without an ulterior motive—least of all damen, who he spent 13+ chapters antagonizing.

damen, meanwhile, means every word he says here. this is no longer just about loyalty to akielos from afar—if it was, he could protect the messenger and then go his own way, just as laurent expects.

but damen isn’t even thinking of doing that. his loyalty to laurent has become its own driving force. i don’t think damen quite knows or accepts this yet—he only recently admitted to himself that he’s attached to laurent at all—but i’m pretty sure it’ll click when he throws a sword at laurent’s would-be killer in several chapters.

He had no fear for Laurent. He was quite certain that the two men in pursuit of him would be on a fruitless search for half the morning, stumbling along whatever path Laurent’s demented brain thought up for them.

damen you are not immune to following laurent’s demented brain path. just wait until the “hello lover” scene in book 3

The trouble, as Laurent had implicitly acknowledged, was that the remaining pursuers might have peeled off in order to cut down Laurent’s messenger. A messenger who carried the Prince’s seal. A messenger who was important enough that Laurent had risked his own safety on the chance that he would be here waiting, two weeks later, for an overdue rendezvous. A messenger who had worn his beard closely trimmed, in the Patran style.

context: laurent has allies in patras, who he is most likely trying to turn against the regent. it is important to damen (because akielos) and laurent (because no shit) that this message is not only successfully delivered, but also kept away from the regent’s men.

‘Charls. What happened to the men who were here?’ ‘They left, and then two of them returned to the inn to ask questions. They must have learned what they wanted because they rode out of here. Perhaps a quarter of an hour ago.’ ‘They rode?’ said Damen, his stomach sinking.

context: they’re chasing the messenger already, and surprise! they’re on horses. damen will not be able to catch up on foot.

Charls had a very good horse. Catching up to a rider in a long chase was not difficult if you knew how to do it: you could not ride full pelt. You had to choose a steady pace that your horse could sustain, and hope that the men you were chasing burned their own mounts out in a burst of early enthusiasm, or were riding inferior horses. It was easier when you knew the horse, knew exactly what it was capable of. Damen didn’t have that advantage, but the bay of Charls the merchant set off at a good clip, shook his muscular neck and implied that he was capable of anything.

i love the occasional reminders that damen is intelligent, well-practiced, and intuitive. he’s not a himbo, he can just seem that way when he’s partnered with laurent! in fact, i almost see damen as having better practical sense than laurent. most of damen’s thinking is expressed through action, while laurent often prevents himself from acting intelligently because he’s so stuck in his own head. it’s like the thing with the grate in the wall: laurent puzzling over how to solve it, while damen just rips it from the plaster.

also i’m picturing cartoon spurs over the riders’s heads in the part about horse stamina. like in zelda games. and now i have the horse race music from ocarina of time stuck in my head

There were increasingly huge protuberances of granite heaving up on either side, like the bones of the landscape showing through the soil.

craft note: love this description

He was lucky, at first. The sun was not yet at the midpoint of the sky when he overtook the two men. He was lucky to have chosen the right road. He was lucky that they had not conserved their sweat-lathered horses, and that when they saw him, instead of splitting up or pushing their exhausted horses forward, they wheeled and turned, wanting to fight. He was lucky they didn’t have bows.

craft note: the repetition works super well here

Or try to. Damen had crowded his mount, causing a minor commotion among the horses, which Damen weathered, but the man did not. He detached from the saddle, but unlike his friend managed to quickly scramble up and try to run for it—again—this time across the countryside. Whoever was paying him obviously wasn’t paying him enough to stand and fight, at least not without the odds heavily skewed in his favour.

dungeons and dragons-ass encounter Damen dragged him up. ‘Who sent you?’ The man was silent. His pasty skin was patched over with white fear. Damen judged the best way to get him to talk. The blow snapped the man’s head to one side, and blood welled and spilled from his split lip. ‘Who sent you?’ said Damen. ‘Let me go,’ said the man. ‘Let me go, and you might have time to save your Prince.’

love how this rando immediately clocked that damen took this detour to beat him up because he cares specifically about “his” prince. yeah it’s probably more to do with the overall sense of loyalty displayed by the prince’s men, but still. he said “I Know What You Are.”

And that was when the man started talking, and Damen realised he was not lucky at all. He looked up again at the position of the sun, then he looked around himself at the vast, empty terrain. He was half a day’s hard ride away from Nesson, and he no longer had a fresh horse. I’ll wait for you for a day at Nesson, Laurent had said. He was going to be too late.

honestly i’m not sure what else he could have done. he told laurent he was going to protect the messenger, but at the time they hadn’t known about the horses. it was a miscalculation. either damen would have had to abandon the messenger in order to make it in time, or end up running late