#and apparently extra spicy

[blaaaaask]

What they actually found in the secret library that day:

[tallbluelady]

I can only give you love that lasts forever And a promise to be near each time you call And the only heart I own For you and you alone That's all, that's all

Nat King Cole - That's All

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

In light of recent events (Gotham War), I think

Jason should

Do something of this nature again.

Batman (1940-) #648 / Batman: Under the Red Hood

[crow-ter]

My entire existence is such a hot take to like half the world right now. And Im just here reblogging memes. Follow your dreams and shit.

[nsfwruru]

top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader

hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣

cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”

You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity�� Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.

“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!

The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.

And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?

Wrong!

It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)

you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”

yunnnnjin: “hi”

yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”

you: “thank u sm!”

you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”

yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”

you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”

yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”

you: “hm??”

yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”

staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.

yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”

yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”

you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”

*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*

Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.

The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.

The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.

Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!

That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.

you: “wow”

you: “so you are real.”

yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”

you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”

yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”

You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.

Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.

She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”

“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“

“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.

Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.

It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.

Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.

Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.

It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.

You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.

Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.

Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.

With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”

urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!

[b1rds3ye]

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI,  awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

[stevieschrodinger]

for @brazenliar

Part One Two Three

tw; childbirth

Eddie’s never moved this fast in his life; keys, phone, wallet, one quick mouthful of now cold chicken off his dinner plate, jacket, crocs off, sneakers on and he’s out the door.

Eddie carries Steve’s bag and the car seat, the towel rolled up under his arm, while Steve waddles along besides him.

He has to stop occasionally to take some deep breaths, obviously in pain, but it doesn’t take that long to get to the van. Eddie sets the towel on the passenger seat, rolling his eyes as Steve insist on it. Once he’s settled, Steve calls Robin and explains the new plan. Chrissy’s on her way apparently, so it shouldn’t be too long.

Eddie’s never been a nervous driver. Eddie’s never been in an accident that was his fault. He got rear ended one time and the bumper fell off, but that was about it. But now; this journey? Eddie’s driving like there’s a very full jug of gravy strapped into the passenger seat.

It’s a huge relief when they make it to the hospital. Eddie just throws the van into one of the spots out front; he’s not sure if he’s even allowed to park there but, honestly, fuck it. If he gets a fine he gets a fine.

Steve’s taking some awfully deep breaths and white knuckling his seatbelt strap, but otherwise seems okay. Just scents a little nervous mostly, a little scared, but Eddie can’t really blame him for that at all.

Once Eddie carefully wrangles Steve out of the van, he realizes Steve was absolutely right because, to be fair, Steve has left a fair old mark on the towel, so maybe Eddie will let him off for insisting.

Eddie leaves the carseat, figuring he can grab that in a bit – it leaves him a free hand for Steve to hold on to while they walk – and waddle – into the hospital.

They get directed to wait until a nurse can come down with a wheel chair, but in a sharp and really, really uncharacteristic show of temper, Steve snaps at the lady behind the desk that ‘he can walk, thank you very much. He is in labor, he is not incapable!’ And for the first time ever, Eddie scents the spicy scent of Steve's irritation.

She looks at Steve dubiously, but directs them in the right direction. Eddie is incredibly relieved that a nurse with a wheelchair meets them half way anyway, Steve still refuses to sit in it, so she follows along just in case she’s needed.

She seems really nice, from what Eddie can tell, and when Eddie looks over at her, she mouths a clear, ‘don’t worry,’ with a smile on her face, so Eddie figures this is all cool or normal or whatever.

Especially since Eddie has not a fucking clue what to expect here.

They make it to a set of doors with a keypad; the nurse lets them in. It makes a lot of sense, and gets rid of a worry Eddie didn’t even know he had; Steve’s going to be safe here. This bit of the hospital is extra secure for Steve and the pup.

“Eddie,” Steve stops walking, “there’s something-” and then Steve makes an unholy noise, doubling over as yet more bloody liquid gushes out of him. It’s like when the elevator doors open in the shining. Or that bit at the end of Carrie.

No it isn’t. It isn’t anywhere near that bad, it just looks like it is since there looks like there’s a lot of it and the fact that it's coming out of Steve probably makes it look worse than it really is.

Steve’s sneakers are going to be fucked, Eddie thinks absently, while having his hand near as damn snapped in half. There’s a nurse there with some sort of absorbent padding, thin blue plastic on one side, and white diamond pattern of white padding on the other, “don’t worry, we got you.”

Steve starts to list to the side, Eddie drops the overnight bag to come in front, Steve flailing and grabbing Eddie’s other hand as he pants his way through something that looks pretty fucking painful from a spectators point of view.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, I have to have a look.”

“Need the chair?” Nurse number one asks.

“Nope, way too late for that, he’s crowning,” and then suddenly a lot happens all at once. There’s another nurse there suddenly, gloved up and wearing an apron. Steve drags Eddie down with him as he sinks to his knees.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, you’re going to feel the urge to push on your contraction, you go ahead and do that when it feels right.”

Steve’s clawing at Eddie, his hands move for purchase on Eddie’s shoulders, “Eddie, I don’t want to have my baby in the fucking hallway,” he pants, face buried against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Uhm, not sure we can stop it,” Eddie says really really unhelpfully, right as Steve growls out a sound Eddie didn’t even know Omega’s could even make.

Eddie's forced to have his chin hooked over Steve's shoulder due to their positions, and that means Eddie's looking straight down Steve's back; he has front row seats for what happens next.

The nurses are all talking to each other, and they're all pretty calm, like this is a normal day at the office, except for when one of them shouts for something...and then there’s a baby. it just sort of slips free of Steve's body, like a magic trick, Steve making another one of those noises right in Eddie's ear.

The pup is crying and one of the nurses says, “is that a new record?”

A different one replies, “nah, there was that lady who only made it into the lobby.”

Eddie stares in wonder. And also, a bit in horror. It’s a boy, very definitely a boy, in fact. Eddie’s instinct is that Steve’s just given birth to an Alpha. One who’s covered in gack and blood, and he’s waving his arms and legs around like he doesn’t know what to do with all the space he’s suddenly got. He’s kind of covered in whitish slime, and he has got a lot of hair. Like a lot.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with his lungs.

“Are they okay? Eddie, please- is-”

“Yeah,” Eddie comes back to earth with a bump, Steve whispering in his ear, Eddie watches the nurse tie off and cut the umbilical, “yeah he’s absolutely fine Steve.”

“He?” Steve sobs against Eddie’s neck.

Eddie watches as a nurse kind of randomly sticks her fingers in the babies mouth, and then they’re taking him away and Eddie is not at all fucking happy about that but is distracted again by a nurse.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, once more and you’re done.”

For a split second, Eddie thinks Steve’s having twins, but then he finds out the placenta is a whole other thing that needs to happen.

Every day’s a school day.

Eddie’s kneeling on a hallway floor, taking half of Steve’s weight, and Steve’s just had a pup. Steve snuffles at Eddie’s neck, and Eddie is flooded with a bone deep certainty that he is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“Eddie, I have to get up.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.”

Eddie helps, making it half way before wheelchair nurse is back, and Eddie helps Steve, really gingerly and a little awkward, settle into the chair.

“Where is he?”

“They’re just cleaning him up, lets get you onto a bed and he’ll be there.”

Steve just...strips in front of Eddie. Eddie catches stretchmarks and then the curve of Steve’s ass as he climbs into bed, and then, true to their word, swaddled in a hospital blanket, the baby is half unwrapped so that they are skin to skin, and deposited onto Steve’s chest, “seven pound four,” she tells Steve.

She waits, making sure Steve doesn’t have any problems with the baby ‘latching’ – which Eddie works out is the proper word for the little guy getting on Steve’s nip – and then she goes to get Steve some water and pain relief.

Eddie just stands there, next to the bed, quietly amazed. It’s like the whole world just shifted a little to the left; this tiny thing suckling at Steve’s rounded chest is just...suddenly the most precious thing in the world. Steve's got a fair bit of chest hair for an Omega; Eddie cannot stop staring at where the tiny pups fingers are gripping at it as he suckles.

“Steve,” Steve looks up, he looks tired, and a little washed out, but so fucking happy, “congratulations.”

Steve smiles, “thanks Eddie.”

“So what are you going to name him?”

Steve’s had a drink, some pain meds, and been inspected by a doctor. Eddie was aloud to sit in the arm chair and hold the little pup while Steve got checked out and...he didn’t cry, but it was close. The scent of pup seems to have already ingrained itself on Eddie’s soul.

He’s asleep now, and neither of them can stop staring at him, they talk in whispers.

“I don't know, I thought I’d just...see them and know, somehow.”

Eddie hums, thinking. “How about Ronnie James?”

“Uh hu. And who is that?”

“Ronnie James Dio Steve, only the greatest musical talent of all time.”

Steve sighs, “I like James.”

“Yeah?”

“Jamie, yeah, James Robin Harrington, what do you think?”

“I mean...I’m kind of biased but yeah. Yeah I like it.”

“Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod Steve.”

“Hey, Robbie.”

Robin comes into the room slowly, and Eddie can tell she’s barely holding back, “I missed it. Oh I’m so sorry I missed it I-”

“Hey it’s okay, honestly it happened so fast I nearly missed it.”

They keep chatting, Robin apologizing and then, crying. And then Steve starts crying. And Robins saying she’s so proud and they’re scenting each other and Robin's scenting the pup and then they’re crying again and Steve’s telling her the name and then that’s a whole thing because Robin didn’t know about the middle name, apparently-

A blonde beta female has sidled up to Eddie, “I’m Chrissy, Eddie, right?”

“Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah same and...this,” she vaguely indicates where Robin and Steve are now, cuddled on the bed with the pup, “we just have to let this happen, you want to grab a coffee?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave, he wants to climb into bed with his mate and his pup and never leave them, but he also recognizes that instinct for what it is; batshit. “I’d fucking love one.”

Part Five

[ofcrossrcads]

“ give me a reason to answer you and I'll consider it, ” she tossed back, a hint of smug satisfaction creeping into her defiance as the imminent threat faded. “ i mean, you did just threaten my life, continued existence, whatever, ” she waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes as she glossed over the technicalities. “ believe it or not, that doesn't exactly put me in a helpful sort of mood. ”

he hated when they had it right, when they could tap into his mind ever so effortlessly and dig through deeper beneath the surface shielding façade to uncover the bitter truth: killing her won't do him any good, especially when he was saving the bullets for much bigger threats. he dropped his arm defeatedly as the colt now rested to his side with the safety switch on. " do you or do you not know who holds my contract? "

[chatonarya]

I think there's really not enough content depicting Karlan Trio as three weirdos who vibe with each other's weirdness. Especially and including Enciodes.

Beneath his perfect social facade, Enciodes is extra and kinda strange. He thinks it's funny to dress up as a pirate on his off-time to go to the beach. He regularly gambled his allowance away as a kid. He got sold to kidnappers as a child by Gnosis and ends the day promising Gnosis a future. He comments on the taste of the food he's being fed while he's captive and says he felt safer tied up when Gnosis cuts him free. He thought it would be a swell idea to empty his bank account to save Degenbrecher while barely knowing anything about her personality. He decided to try to make a Viscount owe him a favor by trying to position himself as a savior and cat's paw while also being "that guy's son from that backwater country." He decides to just enlist with RI as an operator like "Hiii, did you miss me? <3"

He tends to do non-business-related things in an over-the-top way, because he's apparently Just Like That.

Then we have Gnosis and Degenbrecher. Canonically, they're both outcasts from their respective homes even if for different reasons. They're both people who have internalized the pain of being ostracized and made it into strength, refusing to allow public opinion to affect them. This is common ground for them and I believe it forms part of their friendship and why they always have each other's backs even if they mess with each other. But on a personal basis...

Yep, they're kinda weird too. There's the fact that homeless orphan Degenbrecher says Gnosis has "lousy taste" when it comes to food. What does that even mean? Is he an omnivore crane who'll eat anything in front of him? Does he like spicy food (fun fact, birds don't have capsaicin receptors)? Does he like the most hardcore weird traditional Kjerag food? Does Enciodes always have to pick the restaurant when it's his turn? How bad must his taste be for Degenbrecher of all people to say it's "lousy"? He has a penchant for blowing things up and setting things and people on fire whenever he can, apparently just because he can because why be subtle when you can be over-the-top? He's a consummate actor yet can't be bothered with pleasantries. He has an intimate knowledge of etiquette yet chooses to be rude. He's a scientist and engineer yet forges weapons because it's the family tradition.

Degenbrecher? Almost goes without saying. She likes to fight avalanches because survival is fun. Enciodes got her to come along to Kjerag partly by telling her she might be able to 1v1 God and she says so to God's face. She's the strongest person in the country but knows animal midwifery and does farmwork. She's an honorary member of the Kjerag fishing association. She has a great time roleplaying a witch because acting as the final boss means everyone will come at her and spends a long time trying to figure out how she can fit the hat on her head because she's that into it. She grins like a maniac when she gets the chance to destroy the trap house walls; she probably gets a kick out of wanton destruction just as much as Gnosis does. She goes on a Looney Tunes Chase after Trilby Asher with a single-minded intensity without a second thought. She has a cell phone but almost never uses it because she hates being contacted.

I would just love to see more content that shows them just being a bunch of total freaks with each other while vibing harmoniously all the while. Let me see Degenbrecher helping Gnosis blast new mineshafts because explosions and debris are fun. Let me see Degenbrecher throwing the boys over her shoulders like potato sacks to escape some building that's on fire because Enciodes was a cat who knocked something over for the fun of it. Let me see them trading parts of their meals. Let me see them going on vacation together and accidentally causing a minor incident just by being themselves.

Let me see them just doing stupid fun stuff together like the besties that they are.

[zoe-oneesama]

Now that it’s been brought back to the forefront of my mind in regards to yesterday’s SL asks, it really is genuinely kinda nuts how the potions were revealed in Season 2 and have only physically appeared (i.e. not just been mentioned or shown in a one-off picture or alternate timeline) in 13 out of what’s now 92 episodes (not counting specials) since their closest-to-chronological debut. Even more wild is the fact that, like you pointed out, only 3 out of 7 potion powers are canonically known to date. Apparently That Guy tweeted a few years back that one of the remaining ones is supposed to be a Fire potion (which, if true, may be the one Marinette was trying to figure out the “spicy little rock” ingredient for in Mr. Pigeon 72?) that gives the user the ability to walk on lava and/or a resistance to scorching heat, but they haven’t been able to use it since “Fire is something very difficult to use in shows watched by kids, because we have to pay extra-care that they won't see fire as a cool thing and play with it afterwards. Broadcasters tend to prefer not showing it at all.” To which I’m like?? A) You guys STAY hopping between whether you want your target demographic to be little kids or early teens in actual practice. B) There have to be a million ways that you can blatantly write the idea that fire is dangerous which is why the Fire potion would be NEEDED (or, y’know, have more faith in your audience’s ability to intuitively understand that from the get-go). C) If you already understood that a fire power up was genuinely likely to be a hard no-go with your broadcasters, maybe change your plans to only conceptualizing 6 instead of 7 potions before putting them in the actual show???

Right? And like, he said Lava as well. So do something WITH LAVA if you can't use fire! (I bet it would be easier to animate too!) Or, or! Invent a kind of goo or acid that burns LIKE Lava so they have to use the suit! That could be the debut episode, where it's impossible to get close because of the heat and burn of it until BAM! Fire Suit.

It's not like you have to use the suits OFTEN, they've only used the Ice one like two times I think, just do a debut episode and then use it for Ordinary Heroing, like actually running into a burning building and saving people. Pretty sure even kids don't think house fires are cool, so you don't HAVE to associate fire with a "cool" akuma.

A long time ago when I was ranting about this I was informed by a Anon that the others were "revealed" at some convention or expo and they were things like Air and Space (space hadn't been shown at the time), Sun and Moon, and like...Soul? So, what's the difference between Air and Space? Are Sun and Moon supposed to be Light and Dark, how is that following the Environmental Costume Change of the three we know? Wtf is Soul? Maybe it's a lack of cohesion that's making this difficult for them.

The more I hear about them, the more I think this idea was never fully fleshed out and will never BE fleshed out.

[strawberrysainz]

about you. charles leclerc

“ snippets of times your paths cross. and how you begin to intertwine a little. / in which you, after many months, find your way back to him again. ”

charles leclerc x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

strongly advise listening to ‘about you’ by the 1975 just for extra vibes idk

The first thing you think, as he gestures for you to lean into the window of his car - Andrea is holding up your red iPhone to take this picture you may have dreamed of since forever - is that he smelled very real.

It sounds ridiculous. Of course it does, but there is a significant way in which he smells like almond and vanilla scented something that makes you feel like you’re sixteen in your shower with your mum’s body wash she was gifted that in turn was for your own use (she liked soap bars instead).

And as the man smiles and counts down from three, you try to smile effortlessly- you will be showing this photo for years to come- but instead your grin is real, because he is real now, you will remember the smell, his smile, the soft lilt of his voice that you knew wasn’t his proper one.

“Thank you,” you say for a moment, sincere. The Sunday evening is early and welcome, his race win is fresh on everyone’s minds.

“And congratulations.” You add, as an afterthought, smiling. “I seem to have forgotten that.”

He falters for a moment - your casualness has seemed to startle him - and your friends are already pulling you away from the car, wanting to beat the traffic. Andrea hands your phone back and you lean a bit awkwardly over Charles to get it. Charles is staring at you with some sort of amusement, and as you shout a goodbye and a thank you, he waves with a grin as some boys run up to the car.

You laugh into the night air as you get into the taxi, staring at the photos, some candid, some not, of the two of you.

His smile is as big as yours, clearly ecstatic about his win still.

����🍝📷💋

A few months later - it’s summer - and you’re in Italy, hot nights and all the Aperol Spritzes are powering you through the days. You’re bundled up in the front seat of a little Volkswagen Beetle on your way to someone’s villa/winery when you notice two guys standing on the side of the road with a car that’s run out of petrol.

You gesture to your friend, and she sighs, and you pause the song and stick your head out of the yellow car. “Are you guys okay?” You say in that heavy accented English, and with a jolt you realise it’s Charles and Joris.

Your friend has realised too - she was at the Grand Prix with you that night - and Charles is staring at the two of you through those RayBans, a little laughing smirk on his face. “The car’s gone.“

“Are you sorting it out, or…?” You say, giggling a little; Joris looks very uncomfortable in the summer sun.

“Everyone’s closed. We called. It’s a Sunday.”

“Get in,” you say, sharing a glance with your friend, “Come have some lunch. One of our friend’s dad is a mechanic, we’ll see what he can do.”

You watch him debate with Joris silently, and then with a shrug they get in.

“This is Stella,” you say, smiling, and introduce yourself too. Charles’ face kind of squints with recognition. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I met you in Monaco the night you won,” you smile, kind of embarrassed, and he slaps his thigh, making a noise of recognition to be nice (but you know he doesn’t remember that interaction at all).

You nod and Stel talks to them for a while, talking about how lovely Italy’s been in August, and the road is winding away until you’re at Luca’s.

🍷🍝📷💋

You friend Luca is very drunk, you note, the flush on his cheeks and the lazy lilt to his voice are very apparent. When he recognises Charles - this friend group is F1 mad - he hugs him and runs away immediately to get him a drink.

You’ve let your friends take on the role of entertainment for the guests, opting to strip down to your bikini and hop in the pool. It’s a scorching hot day, and you lather on sun cream before relaxing with a spicy margherita in your hands.

Your girlfriends pounce, Stella telling the story of picking up the hitchhikers and one of them thinks she can “totally bag Leclerc” before you’re all called inside for the food.

Before you walk in, you slip on the pair of denim shorts you were wearing and some sandals. Charles has a drink in hand and is sitting at the table already, the pasta and homemade bread having been broken into. Stel pulls you in to sit opposite him and Joris, and you lean over to dish some salad while Charles discusses the watch on his wrist with one of your friends (it’s the car chase robbery story that went viral a few months ago). Joris watches on, looking a bit awkward, so you lean in and begin to make some conversation.

He gladly accepts the invitation to talk, and you launch into a conversation about the holiday he is on before getting stuck on the road. You realise Charles is watching you speak now, oddly engaged, and you look down at your food, cheeks hot.

“So you two were in Monaco, right? For the Grand Prix? How was it?” Charles says, smiling sort of amicably, and a rush of embarrassment engulfs you as you smile at him. “So good. We loved it.” You say, and Stella launches into a story about a weird man who sat next to you on the grandstand.

🍷🍝📷💋

You squeeze in to the middle of the backseat, between Charles and Joris: your bare legs brush against them both in a moment that has you scrunching your nose with disbelief, Luca’s dad rattles on in Italian in the passenger seat with a large petrol can in his lap.

Twenty minutes later, you’re back on the hill on the dark and you’re hugging Charles and Joris goodbye, waving them away. You blow a kiss and get back in the backseat, laughing, shaking your heads.

🍷🍝📷💋

Seven months later, the cold February air finds you in Milan as you walk by an open window. You’re here for work, for Fashion Week, and you drift between fashion houses and shows, writing about them, chatting to models and designers and curators and it’s all so elegant, fun and exciting.

Next on your list is Ferrari’s show in the early evening, looking down to your list, and the waitress brings over your drink in the cosy restaurant.

Sitting on a cold hard (concrete?) bench across from the runway, you’re sitting between to an influencer with the most gorgeous pink jacket you’ve ever seen and an old fashionable Italian man with leathery tanned skin (how is he so tan?), and you launch into conversation with him about his experience this week so far, making notes. The show is as good as it could get for the brand, their classic leather, green and red and yellow ensembles with some gems in between that you adore. It’s alright, you think, it’s average, and just as you’re debating leaving someone roars in Italian and holy shit, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz are walking down the runway.

You immediately begin to laugh a little under your breath, taking some pictures, and as Charles passes your side the girl next to you tries not to shout.

They look pretty cool, you think - all leather pants and shirts and vests, stuff you think they could use a little more of for their everyday fashion. You cheer along with everyone else as Carlos blows a kiss when they leave, laughing a little.

🍷🍝📷💋

You’re just about to leave when a girl comes up to you and engulfs you in a hug, and you tentatively grip her back before looking back, only then relaxing. She’s from university, she eagerly recounts memories of 1st year linguistics class. She hands you a glass of champagne and invites you back to the after celebration, and with a shrug - it can’t hurt, right? - you follow, being led into a room at the back.

It smells like too much cologne, and you scrunch your nose as you find a stray canapé to munch on when Joris calls your name.

Of course he’s standing there, and you run over to give him a hug.

“My saviour!” He jokes, and you laughed, staying by his side to have a chat. You can’t believe he even remembered you. You’re chatting about your latest projects when you’re interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. It’s Charles and Carlos, and Charles has to stare at you for five seconds to figure out who you are before he says your name, squeezing your shoulder. You stand there, rocking on your high heels for a second before he introduces you to Carlos.

“She saved me and Joris in Italy last summer when our car ran out of petrol, we had lunch at their friend’s house.”

Carlos laughs a little when Joris chips in. You’re staring at someone walking past in a great pair of red leather pants when Joris taps your arm.

“We still have to pay you back for last year. Do you want to go for dinner with us?”

Now Carlos’ girlfriend, Rebecca, has turned up, achingly beautiful, and Carlos introduces you and you kiss cheeks before she nods and says she’s so hungry too.

So you end up in a big black car, and Charles is phoning the restaurant and they don’t have a table for 5pm until he does a subtle name drop and then they magically do. Italy has a big love for him, their il predestinato. When you all pull up, there are a lot of people milling about outside, in sparkly dresses and sweatpants, lots of makeup and bare-faced, and you spot Suki Waterhouse when you walk in.

They give you a spot near the back, the brown wall making the space warm as you and Rebecca slide in to the booth.

They order aperitifs and you all chat about what you’ve been seeing this fashion week, the boys’ experience walking, and then you talk to Rebecca about her life for a while.

Then you all order seafood, and it’s delicious and tastes like it’s been made with joy and love.

“I still feel like we have to repay you,” Charles says, catching your attention, and you laugh and shrug the idea away. “This dinner’s lovely. It’s okay.”

“Can I give you and … -“ Joris murmurs to him, “Stella nice tickets to Monaco? Or Monza? Is that fine?”

“Monaco,” Joris nods, and Charles looks at him then back to you. “Really, it’s the least we can do.”

You are busy turning down the offer when Charles shakes his head. “Sorry. See you in May.”

🍷🍝📷💋

You and Stella giggle gleefully as you hear the little sound of your card authorising your access to the paddock. The two of you intertwine arms, walking down. You walk around, peering at everyone supposedly trying to get on with their business in the Thursday morning.

You send a text to Joris, and you just keep walking around for twenty minutes until he replies and says he’s sent someone to come get you. It’s a woman, and she has a lovely smile and she takes you to the hospitality - it’s upstairs, because the paddock is so small in Monaco, and you two have a glass of champagne before Joris appears, slightly sweaty. He’s just got here, he explains, him and Charles - they were slightly held up by fans.

You and Stella laugh and hug him.

🍷🍝📷💋

You spent the day just talking with Joris and other people in the hospitality about their jobs. It’s genuinely the best experience, and it’s nearing 6pm when everyone starts closing up and you are standing near the entrance/exit of the paddock, Stella in the bathroom when Charles comes up to you.

You’re on your phone when you hear him walk up, and you look up with a smile. You haven’t seen him since that dinner - three months ago - and when he pulls you into a hug you feel a rush of energy (electricity?) flow through you. His smile is big and bright.

“How was your day?” You ask, fiddling with your phone case, and he sighs dramatically. “Busy. Monaco is always crazy.”

You nod.

“How was yours?”

“So great. The people in your team are so wonderful. I had a really lovely day.”

Your dress swishes in the wind and you see him cast a glance down at your exposed legs before meeting your eyes again. “Me and Joris are going to do pasta tonight. Do you want to come over for it?”

“Stella’s still here…” you say awkwardly. “I’m not sure what she wanted to do, she mentioned going out.”

“Oh.” He nods. “Ok.”

Stella comes back from the bathroom and she smiled at Charles. “I never got to say thanks for this trip, it’s been great so far.”

Charles smiles at her. “No problem.”

🍷🍝📷💋

Friday comes and goes, a slightly uneventful day (you don’t see Charles, he’s too busy with the practices and the press) and there you are on a rainy Saturday morning.

Stella insisted on hiring a bicycle to get the ‘authentic experience’ so the two of you are busy cursing the weather in plastic rain jackets as you whiz down the streets on bright green bikes.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you see that Charles and Andrea getting off their bikes as you arrive. He notices you, sodden like a wet rat, your nice jeans probably ruined, and giggles in the pouring rain, coming over to help you off your bike and give you an awfully cold hug. His arms wrap around you and you feel him kiss your cheeks, so you return them, but you’re shivering so much he keeps his arms around you until the same nice lady from Thursday comes with an umbrella and takes you inside. You wave goodbye to Charles as he goes to the garage and you blush, your hair soaked still.

The woman takes you and Stella to a tiny little room with cupboards and points to a drawer that contains a hairdryer and a Dyson airwrap (to your delight) so the two of you end up hair-drying yourselves dry - jeans and all. You also get to touch up your makeup after you dry your bag with the hairdryer too.

Nice and warm, you’re given cappuccinos and you peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the track, and see the boats rock in the harbour due to the rain and the wind.

“I don’t think we’ll have qualifying on time at this rate,” another man comments, also a guest of Ferrari, and you and Stella nod, trying to seem up to speed with track condition information.

So an hour later the two of you get to watch the boys film a YouTube video, and part of a vlog they seem to be making.

Afterwards, Charles comes over with Joris, and the four of you chat for twenty minutes before Charles is called away. It’s soft conversation, irritating talk about the weather because of the people around you, so you’re glad to change the topic when he leaves.

“What are your plans for tomorrow evening?” Joris comments. There’s a big party, you’ve heard from the groups of rich and famous people, happening on this gigantic yacht tomorrow, but you haven’t scored an invite so you might just go clubbing. But that sounds embarrassing, so you shrug. “Not sure yet.”

“You have to come to this big party an old friend of Charles is hosting. It’s on this yacht and everyone will be there.”

You and Stella fistbump under the table.

“And what are you guys doing tonight? Charles said you guys were having pasta last night.”

Joris looks a little surprised for a moment then quirks his lips in thought. “Probably not anything. He likes to be alone the night before the race. But last year we did this little dinner at his brother’s house which ended up being really nice.”

You nod.

Qualifying is postponed until five o’clock, and you’re taken to the paddock club by someone to be able to stand at the top and peer down at the track.

The rain has quietened down, yet there’s a lot of tyre warfare, teams mistakenly putting on hards before spinning out so there’s a red flag or two before Q3.

You watch the big screens to see Max score pole, and with a wince Charles is only third.

It’s highly upsetting because of how crucial qualifying is for Monaco. So everyone supporting Ferrari (Carlos is sixth) lets out a heavy sigh before going back to the hospitality.

🍷🍝📷💋

It’s 8 now, the sky dimming, and Stella has plans to see an old school friend so you hang around the hospitality, dreading taking the stupid bike back to the hotel.

There’s an energy in the air tonight, the kind you only get in a different place at night. It’s that kind of powerful feeling. You’re talking to one of the chefs as they all finish their service for the night when Charles comes to pick up food, and you’re surprised to see him when he comes to stand next to you.

“Hi,” you say softly, smiling when the chef you’re talking to launches himself at Charles for a hug, speaking rapid French.

“Where’s Stella?” He asks, and he’s checking how his food looks through a peek at the polystyrene container when you reply. “She has plans with another friend tonight.”

“So what’re you doing?” He looks up at you.

“Avoiding taking the bike back to the hotel, then I’ll probably have dinner there.”

“If you ride that stupid big bicycle 5km back to the hotel now at night and in the rain alone I’m going to kill you.” His expression is one of concern.

You laugh as he laughs too, his cheeks warming.

“I’ll get someone to come pick it up, I know they work at the company. Please let me take you somewhere for some food?”

“Don’t you want to wind down before the race?” You ask, uncertain.

He shakes his head. “You won’t be a bother.” He says quietly, and you blush, looking down at the floor.

So you two leave, and he’s got a car waiting for him, and you sprint from the hospitality because the rain’s started to pour again.

🍷🍝📷💋

You have to stop at his apartment so he can drop off the food that he now probably won’t eat and so he can change out of his garishly red clothing to be a little more discreet.

You two stand alone in the lift, and you look at him in the mirror for a moment before your eyes meet and he looks away.

His apartment is immediately cosy in the way a man just has stuff everywhere. He has a coat of his mom’s you can borrow after he noticed you shiver when you got out of the car, and when he hands it to you the look on his face is so tender you feel a little anxious.

Going back down, you stand a little closer and get back in the car. He smells comforting now, like that cologne you once caught a whiff of one hot Italian summer day.

Scrolling through your feed, your phone lights up the car and he gets a call from his mom, talking softly in French to her.

You lock your phone. The driver tells you to connect to the aux via Bluetooth and you freeze up with anxiety. But when you start with a Fleetwood Mac song Charles is mouthing the words silently as he texts someone so you relax.

Because of traffic, it takes you forty minutes to get to this restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. Charles opens your door for you.

Entering, the maître d’ is an elderly woman and she hugs Charles so tight. You stand there behind him and she comes to hug you too. She seats you two far away from the door after he asks.

“I think you should get pasta. It’s unreal here.” He says, after you’ve both ordered water.

You smile. “What are you eating?”

“Probably just a chicken salad. Have to stay in order for tomorrow,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not eating pasta if you have to eat a salad. That’s sad.”

You then bicker for ten minutes until the woman - Gilda - comes back. You make him order first - a chicken Parmesan salad - and then order the same and he shoots you a look (he thought he convinced you to order the pasta).

🍷🍝📷💋

After supper you leave in the drizzle, and he takes your arm and loops it through his. His arm is so warm, and you end up leaning your head against the beginning of his shoulder as you stand against the wall, waiting for the driver again.

He turns his head to say something to you, then stares at you for a second. He then leans down to whisper something in your ear and you giggle and then he’s moved to face you properly.

You’re anxiously biting your lip because he’s looking at you like you hang the stars in the sky and you feel terribly awkward and then he leans down and kisses you and he tastes like Parmesan so you laugh in the kiss.

You feel his body shake with laughter beneath your touch and his body is warm even in the drizzle. And when you kiss his lips make your whole body fire up. And his hand is gripping your waist through his mother’s coat and his other hand is running through your slowly dampening hair and he groans and you’re electric.

You pull away when the driver drives up, flushed and awfully happy. His cheeks are pink and his eyes soft.

“Get in the car,” he murmurs softly, and when he opens the door he slides on to the backseat behind you and wraps a hand around your shoulder and everything feels perfect.

back from hibernation. hope you enjoyed!!!!

here’s my masterlist

[acciotaitlynn]

Hey! IDK IF U ARE TAKING REQUESTS AT THE MOMENT BUT FIGURED I ASK JUST IN CASE!

Imagine Doctor Zayne and MC with unspoken feelings, they both liked each other since childhood but neither of them saying anything to each other about it.. UNTIL

one day MC shows up to the hospital with a wounded partner (Aka pookie Xavier) and guess who’s treating him?? DR ZAYNE.

And MC is all worried about Xavier and putting his hands on her shoulders and brushing the hair out of his forehead and Dr Zayne is like like.. 😡🤨😡😡 but he has to remain professional

ANYWAYS an idea, feel free to make ✨spicy ✨if you would like!

Hiii ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ this is actually my first request and it was so much fun, thank you for sending it! 10/10 idea btw. I followed my heart—it spicy💦

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Zayne often found himself lending a hand across various departments in the hospital, a routine occurrence, especially during periods of understaffing. Despite the extra burden it placed on him, which was often more mentally taxing than the surgeries he performed, Zayne never really minded.

On the days he conducted rounds, he encountered more challenging patients and situations than he could count. Yet, none matched the weight of his current predicament. As he stood there on the threshold of exam room 5, Zayne observed you—concern etched on your face—as you gently swept a lock of hair from the forehead of a pale-haired figure.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, breathless, before you noticed him, your eyes filling with relief. “Xavier! He’s here—the doctor I told you about—he’ll take care of you, I promise,” you reassured the man on the bed, turning to Zayne with a silent plea; urging your best friend to ease both Xavier’s worries and your own. Zayne watched your gaze return to Xavier as you assessed his wound, squeezing his hand in silent encouragement.

The wound looked severe to you—it was probably the worst injury you’d seen Xavier sustain while on a mission. In a testament to his promise to always protect you, Xavier had risked everything, taking a wanderer’s claws to the stomach by leaping in front of you at the last moment. You couldn’t wait for him to recover so you could scold him for his reckless bravery, even if it wouldn’t change anything—Xavier would make the same choice again in a heartbeat. 

Meanwhile, Zayne still lingered silently by the door, hesitating as though contemplating escape. You shot him a pointed glare, making sure Xavier wasn’t watching, before mouthing, “What the heck are you doing?” while gesturing for him to come closer. You couldn’t help but wonder why Zayne seemed so uncharacteristically unsettled; he was usually the epitome of professionalism at work. Having been inseparable since childhood, you could sense when something was off with him—and something definitely was. But now wasn’t the time to address it, not with Xavier bleeding on the bed, his big blue eyes clouded with pain.

Zayne shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. By the time he opened them again, he was confident his expression no longer revealed his inner turmoil—the struggle of watching the girl he secretly loved show such obvious concern and affection for someone that wasn’t him. He approached Xavier, carefully examining the wound the man had apparently endured while saving you. So what? Zayne had saved you countless times, he was always ensuring your safety and well-being—even in ways you weren’t aware of. Yet, you never fawned over him like this.

When Zayne finally spoke, his voice was eerily calm, his demeanor a mask of professional detachment. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he assured Xavier. “It will require stitches, and I’ll prescribe a strong round of antibiotics just to be safe. I’ll also arrange for something to manage the pain, and give you instructions for home care.” Xavier nodded, and you felt a wave of relief at the thought of easing his discomfort. Zayne returned the nod and left the room without meeting your eyes. 

As Zayne stitched Xavier’s wound, he continued to ignore you, only acknowledging your presence when he dried his hands and prepared to leave. Your stomach sank when he finally looked your way. It was rare for Zayne to be upset with you, and even during those rare times, he had never looked at you like this. Though his face remained calm, a sharp hint of anger and hurt simmered just beneath the surface, startling in it's intensity. “Zayne?” you started, but he cut you off with a flat tone, “The pain medication should take effect soon. It will help him rest. We’ll keep him under observation for a few hours.” Then he was gone, the door swinging shut softly behind him.

You couldn’t think of anything you’d done recently that would warrant such an attitude. Sure, you hadn’t been sticking to his recommended sleep schedule, and there was that time you snapped at him for using his evol to catch a plushie, insisting it never worked anyway. But none of those felt significant enough to explain the emotions you just saw swirling in his eyes. You turned to Xavier, gently smoothing his hair. He seemed more at ease, his eyes fluttering shut as you encouraged him to rest.

You waited at Xavier's bedside, feigning interest in the cooking show on the screen while nurses came and went—but your mind was consumed with thoughts of Zayne. His behavior gnawed at you, intensifying your frustration by the minute. Not even an hour had passed before you found yourself bolting from the room, following the familiar route to his office. He didn’t seem surprised at all when you burst through the door, almost as if he’d just been waiting there for you the whole time.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. Zayne didn’t even look up; he simply adjusted his glasses and continued typing. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied in a bored tone. “Yes, you do! You’re treating me with peak Zayne-saltiness. Please, tell me what’s going on.” Your tone softened, pleading with him. You hated when Zayne was upset, and, as frustrating as he was being— you still wanted to make things right. Placing your hands on his desk, you leaned over to press your forehead against his. “Please,” you repeated, hoping to break through his wall. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, his gaze unreadable as he looked at you.

Zayne really wanted to avoid this conversation, and regretted his earlier behavior immensely; knowing it would lead to this moment. But as you pleaded with him, words slipped from his lips against his will, drawing him closer and closer to the truth he had kept hidden for so long. “How long have you known the hunter? You two seem quite close,” Zayne inquired. You tilted your head, studying him. “Are you jealous, Zayne?” The question felt absurd the moment it left your lips—Zayne had never shown interest in you like that, no matter how much you wished he would.

He averted his eyes. “I’m allowed to ask these types of questions. I promised Josephine that I would always protect you—It helps to know the people you associate with.” You rolled your eyes at his feigned nonchalance. “Well, I met Xavier shortly after joining Unicorns. We met under… odd circumstances, but he’s become a good friend and a reliable partner.” Walking around his desk, you gently lifted Zayne’s chin to meet his eyes. “I know you’re not—but if, by chance, you were jealous—he truly is just a friend. Sometimes I think he might want to be more, but… I’m not interested in him like that.”

Your words were honest. Zayne’s eyes searched your face intently. “What if I told you that I am jealous?” His voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. Your response was just as quiet. “You… but why would you be?” He gave you a sad smile, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The sadness etched onto his face was unbearable, and you weren’t sure if he was saying what you hoped he was—but you decided that it didn’t matter. Closing the distance between you, you cupped his face and pressed your lips to his.

Relief flooded through you instantly—no matter the outcome, at least you wouldn’t have to hide your love for him any longer. Zayne froze beneath you, eyes wide as he watched your lids gently close, a look of bliss washing over your features as you leaned into the kiss. Slowly, his hands slid to your waist, guiding you between his legs as he enveloped you in his arms. He deepened the kiss, a soft groan escaping as his tongue met yours. The taste of you was familiar—like all the times he had pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek or forehead—but now he could fully savor it—every sense was focused on you, leaving him utterly intoxicated.

What began as a gentle exchange quickly turned hungry, and you responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed against him. Rising from the chair, Zayne cleared the desk with a careless sweep and lifted you onto its surface. The intensity in your gaze as it roamed over his body without inhibition, lingering dreamily on the outline of his erection, was almost too much for him. He’d never dreamed you might look at him this way, and now that you were? It took all his strength not to lose control, everything inside Zayne urging him to claim you; to be with you as he’d longed to for so long.

He knew he should stop—he yearned to take his time, to cherish every part of you—a plan he had imagined in great detail over countless daydreams. But those plans vanished when your soft voice pierced the moment. “How long have you felt this way?” you asked, needing to know if he had wanted you for as long as you had him. “Perhaps from the moment I performed surgery on your melted popsicle,” he confessed.

Zayne was your closest friend; you thought you knew him as well as you knew yourself—how had you missed it? Then again, he’d missed your true feelings, too. In a small voice, you admitted, “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, Zayne. I told myself I was content with being your friend… but every day was harder than the last. If this hadn’t happened… it probably wouldn't have been long before I caved and told you.” Disbelief clouded his expression, his breath momentarily forgotten as his heart pounded in his chest. Realizing he wasn’t going to make the next move, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss.

Your kiss was softer this time—savoring the feel of his lips against yours and the tiny whimper that escaped him as you placed gentle kisses along the contours of his face. With a teasing smile, you began unbuttoning his white coat. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve envisioned doing this,” you said, as you pulled it off and tossed it carelessly across the room. “Just as satisfying as I imagined,” you confirmed, taking in the scars that trailed out from his rolled sleeves with hungry eyes. Zayne chuckled, meeting your lips again. Not even giving him the chance to gather the courage to remove your own shirt; you pulled it over your head, quickly adding it and your bra to the pile on the floor.

His eyes couldn’t drink you in fast enough. He admired you for a long moment before reaching out to brush a thumb over your peaked nipple. Biting his bottom lip, he gently tugged at the bud, watching your breast bounce back into place. Something seemed to ignite in Zayne then, his mouth eagerly exploring every inch of your chest with a newfound urgency. His teeth and lips worked gently to leave light marks on the soft mounds. He pulled back to admire his handiwork, contentment and desire clear in his gaze. “All mine,” he murmured, almost to himself. But you heard him. “All yours,” you confirmed softly. It was the truth—it always had been. Zayne drew in a sharp breath, momentarily freezing as disbelief gave way to sheer happiness at your words. You couldn’t remember ever seeing him so joyous.

The two of you became a whirlwind of lips and teeth, you marking him with your own love bites while his tongue sought out the most sensitive areas of your skin, leaving you trembling and breathless. Zayne was so lost in the moment that he barely noticed when you slipped off your panties and pushed your skirt above your waist. His attention snapped back when you propped your feet on either side of you, parting your legs to reveal yourself entirely.

The sight was overwhelming for Zayne—your soft breasts, swollen and red from his touch, and your beautiful form; heat glistening with arousal just for him. “Your turn,” you teased with an eager smile. In that moment, nothing else existed for you as he slowly unbuckled his belt, lowering his slacks just enough to free himself. Over the years, you’d caught glimpses of Zayne in swim trunks or boxers—enough to fuel your fantasies. But seeing him now was incomparable to anything you’d imagined. His cock was thick, perfectly so, and the thought of accommodating him sent a thrill through you. It was long, too, with a curved tip that promised to hit all the right spots inside you. Watching precum drip along his length, you couldn’t resist gathering it on your fingertips and licking them clean with a sigh.

Zayne was captivated by the sight of your face filled with delight at the taste of him, your eyelids fluttering shut in ecstasy as you sucked the slick digits. “You’ll be the death of me one of these days,” he murmured, capturing your wet lips in a searing kiss. With no resistance left, Zayne’s touch was uninhibited. His grip was firm as he pulled you closer, your hands tangling in his hair again as his kisses trailed down your stomach and across your sensitive inner thighs. He delighted in the way you giggled when he nibbled on certain spots, soothing them with his tongue, savoring every sound you made.

Your giggles turned into a deep groan as he licked a flat stripe across your cunt, eagerly slurping up your arousal. The vibrations of his groan against your clit shot straight to your core, making your body sing with pleasure. You tasted even better than Zayne had imagined, making him wonder if he could get addicted to your essence alone.

Your murmured chants of his name spurred him on, his tongue exploring every inch and crevice of you, memorizing the spots that elicited your loudest cries. He grappled with maintaining his composure against the tight embrace of your walls around his tongue—so snug that Zayne wondered if you'd be able to take him fully when the moment arrived.

Your soft, slick skin felt incredible beneath his tongue and lips; the taste and scent of you completely consuming his senses. He was utterly lost in you. It was unclear how long he stayed between your thighs, his tongue languidly dipping in and out before drawing lazy circles on your swollen clit; almost teasingly. When you finally couldn’t take it anymore, needing more than anything to finish with him inside you—you pulled him up to meet your gaze. His lips and chin were coated in saliva and your essence, a blissed-out expression lingering on his face. Reaching out, you wrapped your hand around his length, pumping to spread the generous amount of precum gathered at the tip. Your other hands drew him closer as you spread your legs wider, softly rubbing his cock through your folds. Your gaze locked onto his as you guided him inside, his forehead resting gently against yours as his panted breaths caressed your face.

As Zayne pushed deeper, nearing halfway, you too began to worry that you might not be able to take all of him. His murmured words of encouragement were a soothing presence in your ear, accompanied by the gentle stroke of his fingers through your hair as you struggled to accept the rest of him. “That’s it—just breathe for me, love. You’re doing so well.” When he bottomed out with a soft exhale against your cheek, you both stilled, tears forming in your eyes at the perfect fullness of him inside you. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. “S’perfect,” you sniffled, beginning to move your hips against him.

He set a steady, deep rhythm, marveling at the sight where the two of you were joined. Your body eagerly welcomed him, and if Zayne pulled away for even a moment, your hands and cunt instinctively drew him back in. Seeking Zayne’s gaze, your wide, teary eyes locked onto him with a sudden intensity. “I thought that I'd never get to have you like this…never be able to show you how much I—” Your voice faltered, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at revealing so many hidden emotions so quickly—you weren’t sure how deeply Zayne’s feelings ran, and giving so much of yourself without knowing was daunting. His hand cupped your cheek, the look of complete adoration in his eyes soothing your fears instantly. “I understand,” he assured you. “I feel…complete, for the first time in my life. It’s overwhelming.” Your tears began to flow freely at the sincerity in his confession, and you couldn’t help but plead, “I need more.” His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers dimpling your skin as he pushed your legs further back, allowing his cock to delve deeper. His thrusts turned almost primal for someone usually so gentle—his hands on your hips served to keep you from sliding across his desk as he drove into you.

Zayne needed you—more than you could possibly understand. With each deeper, harder thrust, he felt the ache of longing start to fade as the relief of finally having you trickled in. His name slipped from your lips like a whispered prayer as you felt your walls clench and throb wildly around him, ecstasy pulsing through your body in waves. Your desperate plea, “Need you to cum inside, Zayne,” was his undoing. His hips stuttered, and with a deep final thrust, he spilled inside you, his warmth filling you completely.

Even as his movements stilled and he softened within you, your eyes remained locked. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, mirrored by Zayne’s own grin, and you both beamed at each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers. As he gently pulled out, Zayne drew you in for a lingering kiss, pressing a tender one to your forehead with a soft chuckle. You lingered in that blissful moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, unwilling to let go. Then, a sudden thought jolted you back to reality. “Xavier!” you exclaimed, remembering your friend and nearly leaping off the desk.

Zayne’s grip on your hips held firm, stopping you in your tracks. He kissed you again, determined to push thoughts of the hunter out of your mind. He realized now that he had no reason to be jealous—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a little selfish. Now that he had experienced your affections being fully focused on him—Zayne was determined to keep it that way a bit longer.

“He’s fine,” Zayne assured you. “He has an excellent nurse tending to him. You’re not needed right now.” You raised an eyebrow at his new mildly possessive attitude. He continued, “The painkillers will keep him comfortable for another hour or so. And if necessary, I can always order more.”

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[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: cursing, maybe a little bit of suggestive language.

Word count: 2079 words.

Having Katsuki as a roommate proved to be not that bad. He was almost never home apart from most evenings, and when he was home, he minded his own business.

It’s not like he didn’t acknowledge you to be under his same roof, he was a decent guy, even if he swore a lot.

After sleeping in the guest room for a month, he painted it like he said he would at the beginning, and it took him 3 days. He had to sleep on the couch to not inhale the fumes, and you heard him cursing every morning.

“Can you keep it down? Jeez, it’s 7 am” you say coming out of your room, having heard the commotion in the living room.

“You have to change this shit of a couch. My back hurts so fucking much. My feet don’t even fucking stay on the couch while I sleep ‘cause of how fucking small it is” he barks at you.

“Not my fault you’re big” you say yawning, while rubbing your eyes and going straight towards the coffee machine. You hated having early lectures.

He scoffs. You widen your eyes, shooting him a mean look.

“I meant to say you’re tall” you add.

“Huh? And what would even be the other meaning? Freak” he says flipping you off and sitting himself at the table.

“Whatever” you mumble, putting your coffee in a cup.

“Give me some” he says stretching his hand.

“Make it yourself, big guy” you reply, sticking your tongue out and going towards your own room.

“OI! And here I was about to make you breakfast in exchange” he loudly says.

You turn around and smile at him sweetly. “Roomieeee you didn’t have toooo” you say, trying to hug him.

You know he hates physical contact. He told you so after you accidentally touched his hand passing him the salt one day at dinner. He jumped out of his chair like he was burned by your touch.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU GREMLIN!”.

Meanwhile, things at work could be going better. Your manager came back the day after your talk with Kirishima, and saying that she was pissed off and nervous at the same time would be an understatement.

For the weeks after, she was nicer than she ever was with the clients, but meaner with you and your colleagues. Bitch.

One day you’re cleaning the milk machine when Momo comes behind you.

“I heard the boss came to know about her little escapades and he wasn’t happy” she whispers in your ear.

You throw her a sneaky look before admitting “it might be my fault”.

Momo gasps. “What? Why haven’t you told me anything?” she whisper yells now.

“Shh! It happened last month. You know the guy with the spikey red hair?” you ask her, and she nods.

“Apparently, he’s the boss’s right hand. He told me the boss needed her and I told him she left” you calmly explain.

“I hope she doesn’t come to know it was you who told him that. She’s already making our life a living hell” she sighs.

“Whatever” you say rolling your eyes. “I’m clocking out, see you tomorrow?”.

“As always, babe”.

While you’re going out, you shoot a text to your new roommate. You’re feeling lazy, but you don’t want to feel lazy alone.

You: ordering takeout right now. Do you want something?

Katsuki (roommate): who dis

You: Katsuki are you for real?

You: I’m your roommate

You: you didn’t even save my number?

Katsuki (roommate): wtv

Katsuki (roommate): get me wings

Katsuki (roommate): extra spicy

You: sorry, who’s this???

Katsuki (roommate): petty bitch

Katsuki (roommate): im locking the door

You: I’m calling the firefighters down the street and you’re gonna pay for the new door then

Katsuki (roommate): just get me fkn wings woman

You roll your eyes. This man is insufferable.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” you say while munching on your chips on the couch.

Katsuki is cooking dinner for the both of you. He’s been living with you for the past 4 months now. You’ve grown accustomed to his antics, and he’s done the same with yours. For example, he knew how you tended to overcook his eggs. And since he hated that, he cooked them himself, just like he was doing right now.

“Hopefully not seeing your ugly face” he grumbles. He watches you over his shoulder and puckers his lips. “Why are you so fucking disgusting? I always find crumbs of everything on that fucking couch”.

You roll your eyes. “Just answer the question, Bakugou”.

“Not gonna be home. I have to run errands at work. You bringing some scum over? I’m not cleaning stains on top of your shitty crumbs on that couch”.

He’s not paying attention to what you do anymore, cutting up vegetables.

“And I’m the disgusting one? Ew” you cringe. “Ochaco and I wanted to have girl’s night. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, but her roommates are at home”.

“Short girl, brown hair, round face?” He asks.

“Yeah”. You’re surprised he remembers, but it’s true that you’re basically always calling her.

“Don’t mind. When’s your next shift? You’re next on the “cleaning the bathroom” list”. He adds.

You barely ever talk about work: he said that he’s some type of accountant and he knows you’re some kind of barista. After all, you both don’t care about what the other does if you both still pay rent on time.

You like these little moments you have with him. They don’t happen that often, but it’s like you’re bonding over time. He doesn’t look like he thinks the same, though. Most of the time he voices that you’re “pissing him the fuck off with all your stupid fucking questions”.

“Tomorrow morning, and then on Sunday. It’s weird now that my ex-manager isn’t around anymore, our schedules are much more organised. I wonder why she got fired” you say thoughtful.

Katsuki stiffens up. Your manager has been fired the same week he fired Camie? Must be a coincidence, a lot of extras are shitty workers anyways. He shrugs it off.

He turns abruptly to face you and he scares you so bad you throw the chips in the bowl lying on your lap on your face. He laughs like a maniac.

“Why did you do that?! I get it, you’re a clean freak! Okay! I’ll clean the damn bathroom!” You angrily say.

“Curry is ready, rat” he says, wiping his tears.

“Great, now I’m a rat too?”. Katsuki has this bad habit of always forgetting names and just giving everyone mean nicknames.

“With all those cheese chips on your face? Yes, dumbass” and he starts laughing again.

“It’s all your fault!” you whine, and then help him set the table. You might be annoyed, but you know his curry is bomb.

You’re so happy to be free from Camie’s claws that you and Ochaco drink more than you normally do on Saturday night.

You’re both lying lazily on your bed when she’s telling you about her new boyfriend. He’s the same guy from that one physics assignment (which, by the way, you didn’t fail), and she calls him Deku.

“I swear you’d like him Y/N. He’s so shy, but his arms are so biteable” she dreamily sighs.

You look up at the ceiling before answering “and what’s the correlation between any of the statements you just made?”.

She throws you a punch. “Why are you lucid still? Just… blabber!” she complains.

You chuckle. “I’m so getting an aspirin for tomorrow morning, for both me and you. Just go under the covers and sleep while I’m gone, okay?”.

She nods and you stand up, wobbling towards your kitchen.

“You know, you still haven’t delved into how good or bad things are going with your new roommate” she suddenly says. “You know I need the details”.

You lean on the wall next to your door for some stability before thinking about it.

“He’s good, I guess. We talk here and there when we’re both home, he told me he’s enrolled in economy. He seems rough but he knows how to cook some bomb ass curry, so I’ll keep him” you sluggishly reply. Damn, you really drank too much.

“Yeah Y/N you’ve told me this much. But do you find him hot? Did any of you just enter the bathroom not knowing the other was in it?” your best friend mumbles.

“He locks the door before doing anything” you roll your eyes, then wince because it has hurt your head.

“He’s mean, but he takes the time to be a good roommate I guess? I’d like to know him more than he lets others know, yeah, but he’s not very talkative. To be honest, I think that he’s scared to let people in. I’m probably too invasive for him” you ramble on.

“Did you even hear what I said?” you ask after the silence stretches too long, but the only things replying to your question are your best friend’s snores.

You sigh, then continue going to your kitchen.

It takes a while for you to find the medicine, and when you do, you hear your front door being opened.

With your mind still hazy, you recognise Katsuki’s figure.

“Hi” you tell him.

“Hello? God, you reek. You’re becoming a rat more and more each day” he roughly says while getting his coat off and on the hanger.

“How was work?” you continue, ignoring his comment.

He looks you up and down. He thinks you look kinda cute with your cheeks tinted pink and your hair ruffled, but he’s really tired. “Good, mind your fucking business though. I’m gonna sleep”.

You look hurt for a second, then relax your features. He always answers this way.

You take a good look at him. The light that enters from the window behind your couch makes his face barely visible; with the moonlight as your only aid, you take a moment longer than usual to just stare at him. Broad, blonde, big shoulders, a light scowl on his face, red eyes that seem to follow your every move. Maybe, in his next life, he could be a hero.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really pretty?” you stumble out.

He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing ever.

“What the fuck are you saying? Just let me go to sleep and go do whatever the fuck you were doing before”.

“I said you look really fucking hot, Katsuki” you repeat, kind of annoyed. “It’s not like I asked you to cut your hand and offer your blood for a sacrifice, fuck. Why do you have to be so rude?” you spit out.

He’s surprised. “That’s not the words you used the first time. Pretty and hot don’t mean the same thing” he says, faking that he hasn’t heard your outburst, while stepping closer to you.

“Whatever” you mumble.

He stops in front of you. Maybe he’s been kind of rude lately because the situation at work hasn’t been the best. He fired Camie because he repeatedly heard she wasn’t capable of doing anything good on top of being mean to her colleagues, but finding another manager was stressing him out. He wanted to fire her as soon as he came to know her behaviour the first time, but Kirishima said neither of them had enough time to deal with her father. As much as this infuriated him, he was right. They were in their last year, and university wasn’t gonna finish itself.

You’re looking up at him with a scowl. “Let’s both go to sleep, m’kay? You don’t know what you’re saying” he says, nicer than any other time he talked to you. In the back of your mind, you notice he isn’t cursing anymore.

You keep on mumbling something and almost trip on your feet trying to get to your room.

You’re about to fall when he picks you up bridal style and goes to get you in your room himself.

Just before you fall asleep in his arms (how strong is he? He’s not even straining) you put your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, sorry, I’m really drunk. I didn’t want to invade your privacy” you say.

He just shushes you up before telling you to sleep.

And just before you pass out, you notice he smells faintly like coffee.

[buckysgrace]

2. Two Can Keep A Secret

Closer to My Heart Masterlist

Single dad!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader (if you wanna be added to a taglist for this let me know!! I will try to keep up with it <3)

You run into a familiar face at your second job

You’d taken up working two jobs. Seemingly a good thing since you wouldn’t be able to fix your car until the end of the week. Apparently it had been a blessing in disguise, even though you hated it majority of the time. 

It had been like that for a while. The daycare paid enough to cover your little apartment, but not much for the groceries or the things that you liked to supply to your students. And now, you’d be using the extra money to fix your car up. Lovely. 

You loved working in the daycare, being around sweet kids and watching them develop into their own little personalities. Despite issues with the parents, it was rewarding. It was nice. Even if you did face the occasional asshole, such as Billy. 

Your second job was the complete opposite of your first. It was filled with all types of Billy’s, men that were far worse than him. But you had to stand there and take it, smile so you didn’t miss out on any tips. 

You wore tight clothes, far too revealing and had to grin so brightly that you swore your face was stuck into a permanent grin by the end of the night. You reminded yourself that it was just until you got caught up, until you finished off those hospital bills. 

You supposed your coworkers made up for it in some sense. They weren’t as judgy and seemed to be a lot nicer despite all things. They were all about your age and complained about the same thing, everyone just needing to make a living. At least you could suffer together.

You collected up the tips from your last table, swiping away the paper that held a list of numbers on it before you walked away. You breathed in and out, calming yourself as you headed towards your next table. Another group of men. 

“Welcome to Bombshells,” You greeted with a smile, not quite fully facing the table yet as a sound from behind them distracted you, “How can I-,” You trailed off, your smile plastering to your face in a stiff manner as you took in the table in front of you.

On one side there was a handsome man with floppy brown hair and big brown eyes. Next to him sat a man with shorter brown hair, his face covered in brown freckles. Across from them sat someone you knew too well. And it would just be your luck for him to be here tonight.

He was still mid laugh about something, the corner of his eyes crinkled and eyes twinkling with amusement. So far out of the element you were used to. He wore a blue buttoned up shirt, something that you were sure brought out his eyes but you refused to look at him that closely. Just how you refused to note that nearly all of the buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing his tone chest. You were not looking. 

“What can I get for you?” You asked as you directed your attention towards the two brunettes, praying and hoping that Billy didn’t take notice of you. You were dressed much differently, your hair even styled in a new way, along with your makeup. There was no way, but you didn’t look at him anyways.

“Hey, hi, uh,” The brunet with thicker hair spoke up first, tossing down his menu as he turned towards you, “I think we’re doing wings. But nothing too spicy, what do you suggest?” He asked, warm eyes sinking into you as you began to list off your suggestions.

You could feel Billy’s intense stare, could feel him piercing into your skin even though you refused to look at him. You could write down his order and deliver it without saying a word to him in a nice manner. You were sure he’d mock you relentlessly if he knew.

You left as quickly as you could once their orders were taken, doing your best to keep from being rude. But you did not want to be there. You could feel the anger simmering in your veins just by feeling his gaze, by hearing his laughter. He knew. He knew and he was probably parading it around to his dumb friends. You were sure you’d go into work tomorrow and hear all about it from your supervisor.

“You alright?” Sabrina questioned you, meeting you at the bar as you gathered up the bottles of beer for your trio. You stared down at the brand Billy ordered, wondering if you could get away with spitting in it. Probably not.

“Yeah,” You nodded your head stiffly, reaching for the shot that Nick had set out for you. You took it quickly, discreetly as you tried to keep your heart from beating too roughly. You would be fine. They just wanted their discounted wings and then they would be long, “Just another night.” You added cheerily, shrugging your shoulders as sweetly as possible before you gathered your tray and walked away.

Each step felt torture, like pure agony until you reached them. You began to unload the drinks, begging your hand to stay steady as you did so. The last thing you needed was to spill it on him and have him scold you for that too.

“There you go,” You spoke directly to the other two men, keeping your smile light and breezy, “Have you gentlemen decided?” You asked, just barely grazing your eyes in Billy’s direction so you could at least pretend that you were acknowledging him.

“Any specials?” Billy spoke up, making you exhale deeply and silently as you glanced towards him. You kept your pen against the paper, staring at it instead of him. 

“Not tonight.”

“Huh,” He said as he pressed his lips together, like he was thinking thoughtfully, “Usually there’s always specials.” He drew out, like he was in deep thought. He sounded like he was saddened, but you knew the truth. He was just toying with you, trying to irritate you. 

“Usually that’s on a weekend.” You informed him as softly and casually as you could. He would not make you lose your cool today. You needed your car fixed. Your car was far more important than the smug asshole with wickedly good hair. 

“Is it now?” He asked as he continued to look at the menu slowly, “I swear it was different.” He hummed as he tapped his fingers against the back of the menu, showing off his rings that he bore on his thick fingers. No wedding ring. 

“If you need another minute, I can come ba-,” You began to tell them, gesturing towards the table around the corner that was trying to wave you down. They clearly wanted a refill. You could do that, preferably before they started whistling. 

“No need,” He hummed as he looked up at you mischievously, “I’ll just be a minute.” He told you as he shook his head, like your suggestion was unnecessary. He skimmed for another second. 

“Take your time, sir,” You drew out slowly, “Not like anyone else is waiting for service either.” You said with a laugh, ignoring how his two friends awkwardly chuckled around. Billy clearly didn’t care. Not even when he restated the order of wings that his friend had suggested earlier. You were going to scream.

You dropped the menus off at the bar, hiding them behind the counter as you tapped your fingers across the wood. Why, why did Billy have to come here out of all places? There were so many other similar bars he could visit. He should be home with Theo, not here. 

“Look at you,” The familiar warm, thick voice came from behind you as you sat down your tray on the bar table. You felt your eye twitch as you dug your fingertips into the plastic tray. Shit, “You look good in your little get up. The daycare not cutting it anymore?”

“Did you need me to add something to your order, sir?” You kept your tone sweet, sickeningly sweet. You hoped he drowned in it. 

“I like you saying that.” He leaned against the counter, elbow on his table as a smug smirk on his lips. You felt your eye twitch, stunned at his flirtatious tone as you turned to face him fully. God, did you hate his tanned skin and cool blue eyes. It should be illegal for men to have eyelashes that thick and long. 

“You’re an ass,” You seethed at last, unable to help the anger that was brewing inside of your chest, “I need both jobs and you’re not going to tell anyone about this.” You told him sternly, warning him. You didn’t want to lose out on your day job. You loved working with your students. 

“I’m not?” He replied in a mocking way, lifting his dark eyebrows before he laughed playfully, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just fucking with you. I didn’t think you of all people would dare be in a place like this.” He laughed as he reached around, pulling an olive free from behind the bar and plopping it into his mouth. You stared. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked him seriously as you straightened your shoulders, trying to get at what he was suggesting. He didn’t even know you, but he sure did like to pick on you. You felt like you were in high school half the time. 

“It has to do with the stick that’s always up your ass.” He said as he glanced towards you, dark eyebrows raised on his forehead as he gave you a pointed look. Your lips parted in surprise. You were the one with the stick up your ass? 

“I do not have a stick-,” You stopped yourself, sighing deeply as you touched your face gently before you freaked out on him, “Again. Was there something you needed?” You asked him again, tone clipped this time as you stared him down. He shook his head, chuckling before he walked back to his table. 

You stared at him in anger, observing how broad his shoulders were and how his hips moved. He had a certain swagger to him, his jeans just a little too tight. Not that you were really complaining, because he did have a nice body. But you quickly shook that away. He was still an ass. 

“Who was that?” Sabrina asked as she bumped against your hip, wiggling her eyebrows before she refilled the drinks onto her tray. You supposed you should do the same, but what you really wanted right now was a cigarette. Even though you hadn’t had one in a long time. 

“The world's biggest asshole,” You mumbled, “I watch his son during the day.” You explained as you stared down at the refill list for your next table, gathering up the drinks that had been left for you. 

“You guys have something going on?” She asked as she popped her bubble gum, raising her perfectly styled brows high onto her forehead. You nearly toppled your tray over, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Ew no,” You spit out quickly, “Never. Never ever. Not even if he was the last person on Earth.” You scoffed, pretending to gag at the thought. She laughed at your childish behavior. 

“Really? Because it seemed like you had some sort of tension,” She smirked, “Sexual.” You rolled your eyes, you pretended to dry heave this time. Truly feeling like her suggestion was leaving you sick. 

When you returned to the table next, Billy was gone. You secretly hoped that he had had enough and actually left, but his friends insisted that he would be back soon. Much to your displeasure.

You caught his eye on the way back to the bar, noticing that he was sitting with some pretty girl who had been nursing drink after drink since you had arrived. You cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, wondering if this was really where he went to pick up girls.

He didn’t seem to get the hint as he approached a second later, feigning interest in the desserts as you dryly passed the menu back to him. 

“Was that your girlfriend?” The question slipped from your tongue before you could stop yourself, taking you by surprise as he drifted his eyes away from the menu and towards you. 

“No,” He responded, furrowing his eyebrows together at the way you snorted, “Are you suggesting something?” He asked, his tone laced with attitude as his icy eyes met yours. 

No, as much as you liked to think he was a manwhore you knew that he wasn’t. He was always polite to your coworkers, respectful. He was a flirt for sure, but it seemed more playful than anything. And you were no stranger to why Theo always missed his birthdays. They had somewhere else to be on those days.

“I don’t care why you’re here.” You said at last, shrugging your shoulders as he waited for you to tell you what he wanted for dessert. He shook his head as he snorted this time, like he didn’t believe you. 

“My friends think I need to get laid.” He said at last, shrugging as he leaned lazily against the counter. You watched the way his blonde hair curled against his shoulders. You drifted your eyes across his soft nose, then over the light freckles on his cheeks. 

“Well it’s not going to be me.” You said in surprise, unsure if he was trying to hint at something or not. You would never. Not with a customer and certainly not with a parent of one of your students. Especially him. 

“I would never ask you,” He said as he looked at you with disdain, “Even if you did try to impress me with the outfit.” He replied smugly, making you simmer all over again. Fuck him and his dessert. You didn’t need some lousy tip from him. 

“I didn’t-, I would never-,” You sputtered out all at once, your body erupting into flames at his suggestion, “You’re the one who showed up to my work place.” You reminded him, your voice only becoming more shrill and higher pitched as you defended yourself. 

“Right,” He dragged his tongue along his teeth as he grinned cockily at you, obviously enjoying the reactions he got from you, “I guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” He said as he passed the menu back to you, leaving you gripping it so tightly that you thought it might snap from underneath your grip. 

“Yeah,” You muttered hotly under your breath, “I guess you will.”

You woke up late the next morning. Your alarm clock laughing in your face as you stumbled out of bed late, tossing on the closest outfit you could reach and neglecting breakfast and your morning drink of choice before you were out the door.

“Late night?” Billy asked with a smirk on his lips. He was the opposite in the mornings, always the first parent to arrive rather than the last.

“No,” You mumbled underneath your breath, fearful that someone would hear him as you unlocked your door and pushed it open. You hit the lights next, sighing as he followed you inside, “You can pull his cot out if you want.” You added a second later, noticing how Theo was still curled up against Billy.

“Mhm,” He hummed as he slowly removed Theo’s backpack from his shoulders. The little boy curled right back up against him, clinging to him like a Koala, “You work there every night?”

“No,” You said as you dropped your bag, “Just Monday through Thursday. It gives me the weekends off.” You missed out on the best days to actually work, but at least you got your weekends to yourself.

“That’s a lot,” He responded, making you narrow your eyes for whatever snarky reply would come next. You were sure he would insinuate that you were a whore, the same way your previous dates had, “Doesn’t it get tiring?” 

“Nobody cares how tired I am, I still have to get my bills paid,” You reminded him, watching the way Theo nuzzled his little nose against Billy’s neck. He looked content as he laced his fingers through Billy’s shirt, “And it doesn’t affect my performance here at all.”

“Never said it would,” He replied shortly, “Can you take him?” He asked as he shifted Theo once again, making the toddler squeak in his sleep.

“You don’t want to say goodbye?” You asked him curiously, feeling like Theo would be upset when he woke up and noticed that his father was missing. He always got upset when Billy had to leave.

“If he’s sleeping it’ll keep him from crying,” He mumbled as he passed Theo off to you, “Thanks.” He bent low, close enough that you could smell the cologne off of him as he pressed his lips against Theo’s forehead repeatedly. 

You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move other than to adjust Theo in your arms as the overwhelming scent of Billy filled your nostrils. He smelt good. Far too good. 

Theo rested his head against your shoulder, sighing deeply through his nose as Billy ruffled his hair one last time before he left. He said nothing to you, not that you minded. This was the most you had spoken to him in months. Years.

Still, an odd sensation filled you as you watched Billy leave. You were curious, doubtful about what his true intentions were. He was the last person you wanted to trust, especially with a secret that would ruin your job here. You knew how your boss was, they wouldn’t like what you did on the side.

“Oh and-,” He paused in the doorway, glancing back at you as a smug smirk formed on his lips, “I think you’re doing a damn good job trying to impress me in this outfit too.” He said smugly, sending you a wink before he was out the door. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat, swearing it was anger as you felt every muscle in your body twist and curl into a big ball. Warmth raced through your veins as you sighed angrily, hating how easily he crawled underneath your skin. 

What an ass.

[hydrngea]

Heyy!

Can you do a rafe cameron x reader fluff where she gets made fun of by some girls at the country club and rafe overhears and helps her?

Take your time and thx!

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛

a/n : thanks sm for the request 💕💕💕 sorry i took forever !!! hope you enjoy!

masterlist / latest rafe fic / ao3

—————

there were all sorts of talk about you and rafe cameron spreading around the country club.

everytime you went out to drop off an order at a table, you’d hear whispers of your name and feel heavy glares being burnt onto the back of your uniform.

you knew that the people were gonna talk. you were the kook-kings new girl and that was enough to rile up every girl in the obx, especially since you were a pogue.

the sharp voice of your boss pulled you out of your trance as you washed some dirty dishes.

“hey, y/n! switch places with jere at the bar so he can go on break.”

fuck

that was the last thing you needed today and might as well been your last straw. of course he had to switch you to the bar ten minutes before the end of your shift. you internally groan at his words, whilst putting forth your best country-club smile and pushing past the trap door.

the second you walk out you’re ushered over by a high pitched girl from the corner of the bar. great. of course it’s the assholes from school calling for you.

“hey, yoo-hoo! we need some refills over here.”

you hurry over to the group and forced greeting “how may i help?” you ask with a fiegned sweetnsss to your voice, silently praying under your breath that they won’t order anything too complex.

you definitely jinxed yourself.

“can we get 6 spicy margs with extra spice?”

you can’t help the disappointed sigh that escapes you- it’s probably going to take you past the end of your shift to finish mixing that many drinks.

it seems like your dissatisfaction is apparent to them, because the girl in the middle, bianca, you think, cocks her head to her left and pouts.

“is there a problem? you do realize this is your job right?”

you’re taken aback by her comment, even though it shouldn’t surpise you. she’s been kildare’s self appointed queen bee since elementary. her words aren’t very out of the ordinary for her, but they still sting at your chest.

another one scoffs, shrugging a shoulder as she combs her fingers through her freshly balayaged hair. “i know it’s hard for you pogues to be on your feet and work for your money, but what’s the point of the paycheck if you can’t even do your job enthusiastically?”

your clench your fist at your side, digging your fingernails into your palm while biting your tounge. you try not to make it seem like they’re getting to you, but you know by the burning feeling on your cheeks that your body is betraying you.

“so 6 spicy margaritas?” you attempt to end their shaming of you by clarifying the order, but they totally ignore you, continuing on with their degradation.

“really, y/n. if you want the tips you should at least act happy to be at your job.”

happy was the last thing you were feeling at the moment.

“i’ll take that into-“ you voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, your frustration catching up to you. suddenly, you feel small, small like you’re the size of the fire ants that strut over the ground; even smaller. “consideration.” you finish, muttering the last word.

you make to turn on your heel and start on the drinks, yet you hear your name fall from one of their lips once again. you try to focus on pouring the alcohol increments correctly, but you can’t stop yourself from tuning into what they have to say about you.

“i bet she’s gonna leave rafe the second she drains his bank account.”

“please; rafe will leave her once he finally realizes he deserves way better than a pogue. just a matter of time.”

the conversation just keeps getting worse, to the point you almost drop the marghertis as you carry them over towards them.

you let out a somewhat relieved sigh when you see rafe walking over towards the counter, twirling his car keys on his pointer finger.

“hiii rafe.” bianca says, her voice drippping with desperation that almost makes you gag. rafe acts as though she were on mute, completely ignoring her while he beelined in your direction.

he leans against the bar, offering a smile that’s reserved for just you “hey baby,” rafe greets. “ready to go home?”

“yea. let me just grab my stuff and i’ll be out quick.” you reply, quietly as you finish wiping down your work area.

rafe notices your hushed tone and your upset mood without you having to announce it; you have that angry look in your eyes and your skin is flushed scarlet with your jaw it taut. something’s up.

he watches as you trudge out the door and slightly juts out his lip in a small pout, wondering what’s going on with you right now. usually you’re all cheerful and happy when he comes to pick you up from work.

“of course y/n needs rafe to rescue her from work.“ his ears capture the annoying voice of one of the girls gathered together at the corner of the bar. he turns around, looking at them with his brow furrowed in disgust.

“god, i don’t know how he deals with he-“

“what’d you just say?” rafe pushes himself off the counter and stomps his way towards them, giving them all a glare made of steel. the girls all tense in their seats, voices piping down as they just look at him.

of course fucking bianca’s the one to open her mouth to try and respond. rafe doesn’t even give her the opportunity to say something, cutting her off before she can’t even start. “keep that mouth shut. especially if your gonna talk shut about my girl.” he threatens, eyes shooting daggers at her.

just then, you appear from the corner and rafe walks away from them, possessively wrapping an arm over you shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to your forhead and then your lips. “let’s get out of here, huh?” he whispers against your lips and you reply nod, giving him a small smile before you bring your fingers to interlock with his which rests by your bicep.

you can’t help the giggle which falls from you as he mutters a pointed comment towards the girls while you walk past them- loud enough that you’re sure they heard.

they definitely will be keeping their mouths shut from now on.

———

taglist : @maybankslover @mrsstarkey1 @of-many-fandomss @penny4yourthoughts @dearreader03

[ohmygraves]

what the 141 guys would eat in an all you can eat buffet

price

price is the one grilling the meat most of the time if they're in like a kbbq where you cook the meat yourself

he tells the boys to grab whatever they want cuz it should be fun rather than trying to get their money's worth

still though he will make sure that everyone finishes their plate bcz no wasting food here people it's an extra 10 pounds for like 100g of food you wasted get your head in the game-

honestly probably wouldn't be that hard, his boys eats a lot in general

keeping it simple with series of meats and booze, though might indulge in some pastries if something catches his fancy

tends to pick something he's familiar with and one that looks good, will be disappointed if the one he picked doesn't taste as good as it looks :(

oh also will definitely go ham at the crabs, kinda shows off how to crack it open and get the most meat from it hehe

i feel like the buffet he feels more comfortable with are the ones that offer him familiar sights and lots of meat. and maybe some veggies too to cut the cholesterol out of his body a little

he might enjoyed k-bbq, cuz they eat lots of veggies while going hard on the meat too

"see you just do this and this and..." *a log of crab leg meat pops out of its shell* "now it's all out"

gaz

oh he gets distracted by the fancy stuff

his plates has a few oysters and somehow lobster tails?? is that a caviar??

his palaté is more adventurous, i think he'd be willing to try out things that he hadn't seen or tried before

still he wants to maximize his stomach space to try out everything that the place has to offer

looks around the selection a few times before grabbing a plate and picking the things he wants (apparently this is the way to go?)

i feel like kyle would be into buffets that offers interesting dishes and unlike the ones that are in common buffets with their ham and mass produced scrambled eggs or something

he has standards

he's a fancy boy, he wants some good drinks while he eats through the entire place

indulges in desserts, but only at the end where he knows that he's had enough of the main dishes (the dessert ruins his appetite so he keeps it towards the end)

soap

picky boy #1 in the squad

cannot handle a single lick of spicy and heat so his options are limited if he goes somewhere "interesting" or wherever kyle takes him

that being said he likes carbs

lots of them

grabs bread and toast and the meats from the meat section and just makes himself some sandwiches

doesn't really take the salads bcz he doesn't like the veggies in it, will end up picking most of the stuff out (he doesn't like raw onions and raw carrots :c)

loves the sweets though

will accidentally eat too much sweets that he couldn't eat anything else because his appetite gets ruined

still though if he goes to a buffet he's gonna make sure he stays until the end, kept going either way until the last seconds.

might end up very sick and in a food comma, someone has to roll him out of the place later

his favorite buffets are those cheap ones where the dishes are something he knows and he just cycles through like five dishes through his one hour time limit

he gets made fun of by ghost because his plate is always full of beige

ghost

i still stand by ghost being a big boy that likes eating

so he lives for these buffets

he doesn't really like the ones where you cook yourself, he feels like its a lot of waiting for the cooking and not enough time eating

also doesn't really go for the soups, cuz he soups take a lot of space in your stomach. will probably indulge in a small bowl or two though just to try.

he likes a lot of things and doesn't really have anything he hates or turn away, keeps going somewhere where he knows where he could eat his fill in the cheap

he might put the place in the red though, he can certainly eat a lot

meat? sure. salad? put it on the plate. toast and eggs? why not. seafood? no need to ask.

his side of the table is always full of dishes and cluttered. you won't even be able to see the table underneath.

also the vacuum cleaner and the savior for price's wallet from paying the fee for leaving uneaten food

kyle always gets him to try interesting food, and ghost just doesn't really comment on it and puts it in his mouth

he likes anywhere where he could eat for the cheap, isn't very picky on the cuisine. as long as he's not the one cooking the food himself he's fine with it lol