#and as I finally go to bed I go to get water and it's cracked open a bit

[saintwyfe]

࿐ ˚ . ✦ YOU'RE KILLING ME, JUDE! jude bellingham

summary. holidays are meant for reuniting with friends and family. your ex? i think that depends.

cw. crack, a thing or two of cursing. not proofread.

wc. 1283

your ex-boyfriend, jude, knew how to push your buttons. it didn’t help that you were next-door neighbors.

so, when you’re back home from uni for the holidays, he finds himself staring at your window, every now and again. accidentally, of course. your room isn’t pitch black, but dim enough to read the pages from a book on which your attention is anchored.

he catches himself staring for quite a long time. it’s not until his dad yells for him downstairs that his eyes divert. then, he jolts toward his closet, trying to find some clothing to slip on as beads of water drip down his back.

he scratches his arm as he finally makes it to the kitchen to find his dad. he doesn’t say anything when he realizes that his parents are sharing a laugh with a guest—your mother—at their kitchen island.

“jude!” your mother, helene, gasps when she realizes he’s standing a few feet away from them. her arms open as he walks closer to engulf her in a hug. “haven’t seen you in forever—how are you?”

he pulls away, a smile etching the corner of his lips as his hip nudges the corner of the island. his parents are looking at them, burgeoning excitement, as they watch them reunite. after all, it’s been a while since the two families have had a proper get-together. years, probably. 

“just football, y’know. always football.” he cocks his head as her fingers reach up to pinch his earlobe. 

“gosh, you and jobe get taller every time i see you two,” her head shakes in bewilderment, despite only getting to see him once, maybe twice a year. of course, they’d grow just a tiny bit every time.

he wraps around the kitchen to grab a glass of water from the fridge. and they’re… still staring when he turns around. “speaking of jobe, where is he?” he tilts his head, narrowing his eyes once he’s figured that he hasn’t seen his younger brother since noon.

helene’s finger points in the direction of her home, next door. “he’s over hanging out with nate [your brother!]. fifa, i think.”

he shrugs his shoulders, nodding his head. “figured he’d be doing that.” carefully placing the empty glass in the sink. “i’ll head over there, then—just to see if i can join.” 

“the door’s open. you’re fine to just walk in” helene waves goodbye and watches as he towards the front door.

giving the adults a quick goodbye, he slips some sandals on before walking a few steps next door. and of course, the only noise coming from the quiet house is upstairs, to the right. he follows the sound of the two boys yelling and cursing obscene things at each other. but, his body follows the door opposite nate’s, making a sharp turn toward your door. he stands before the door, leaning on the frame as he contemplates talking to you. after all, it’s true that he’d never gotten over his high school lover, the girl next door. but suddenly, the door opens, and his eyes widen in shock.

“what are y—” you stand in front of him, your voice slightly hoarse before he covers your mouth with his palm, redirecting the two of you into her room before shutting the door. thankfully, nate and jobe were still taunting each other in the other room, loud enough for no one in the house to hear the door shut. he locks the door shut, not pulling away his palm until you’re sitting on the corner of your bed, staring up at him with seething eyes as you try to tug his wrist away.

“if i let go, you’re not going to scream,” he mutters, his knee nudging the comforter next to your legs as he looks down at you with slight fear. you’re dumbfounded, tempted to bite the skin of his palm. shaking your head in confusion while furrowing your eyebrows, he slowly retreats his hand from your lips.

you wipe your lips, huffing as you scoot back on the bed. “what the fuck are you doing here?” 

he steps away a reasonable amount. “uh—my mom, she invited you over for dinner. i figured i’d come over and ask mys—”

“your mom has my number,” you interrupt him, giving him an annoyed look.

“doesn’t matter. it’s still nice to offer, y’know.” he retorts, giving you a smug look as he sassily crosses his arms. “clearly you don’t know anything about being nice, cursing your guests over. you haven’t changed a bit, y/n.”

you raise an eyebrow in confusion, humor… surprise? you didn’t know what to think. to scream, or to burst out laughing. “are you high?”

“what? am i high?” his jaw drops as he feigns offense. and this is when he goes off about how it was actually out of his kind nature to take time from his night to come over and offer dinner, and how your mom would be offended if she’d heard you tormenting him like this. you just stare for a few seconds as he rambles. then, you get the bright idea to lock his knees together and get the six-foot-one man onto your bed. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DO—” he shrieks, but your hand covers his lips before he can finish his thought. someone from across the hall has definitely heard, and your heart can’t help but race, though the door is locked. you breathily giggle as you look at the door for a few seconds, sitting on his lap, and meeting his eyes with a you better hope no one heard look. your lips hover to his ear, taunting him in the same way he did just a few minutes earlier.

“are you gonna scream?” you whisper in his ear, smiling cockily—in a way where he undoubtedly hears you smile in your words, despite not seeing your face. he doesn’t say anything the first time, but his hand reaches your thigh and grabs the skin tightly, slightly stinging. he pushes your buttons so easily, but you can’t help but chuckle as you lay atop your ex-boyfriend of two years.

your hand clutches his mouth a little tighter, more aggressively. “i’m not gonna let go. if you scream, we’re so fucked—you’re so fucked.” all he does is look at you with narrowing eyes. but, you cave in, trusting that he isn’t going to rat himself out this blatantly. you pull your palm away, and he retains a calm composure for about five seconds before letting out a loud screech.

your eyes widen. before you can think, your lips crash onto his, trying to shut him up. shit.

his hands reach up to caress the small of your waist, adjusting your hips to sit more comfortably on his lap. he knew what he was doing, but you can’t help but admire how much you’ve missed his lips.

but, as you’re kissing each other, a loud knock sounds at your door. 

“yo, are you good in there?” your brother, nate, asks.

your head is perked toward the direction of the door while jude stares at your lips, circling the skin of your waist. “i’m watching a show, sorry!” you can hear him shake his head and jobe giggling from across the hallway as they return to playing fifa. you look at jude in annoyance. 

“swear, you like to piss me off on purpose,” you scoff, glaring at him as you hover over his face. 

his fingers pull pieces of your hair behind your ear as he quietly chuckles. “can you do that thing again? where you kiss me like this?” 

and suddenly, you're flipped on your back, engulfed in a kiss with giggles cascading the room, and it feels like you're both 18 again.

author's note - hope you guys like this! haven't posted in literally over a year--i'm so sorry. i missed you all though!

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part four]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count: 2.5k

masterlist

Azzi wakes up to a sweater being thrown on her face. It’s bright, sunlight streaming in through the window and bathing her room in a soft yellow. “Wake up.”

“Mhmmm.” Azzi tosses the sweater away, burrowing back into the warmth of her comforter. She’s halfway asleep again when the feeling of cold water dripping down her cheek sends her flying up. “What the fuck?”

Paige smirks, clearly fighting the urge not to laugh. She’s in her UConn puffer and sweats, her hair tied up in a messy bun and her eyes brighter than ever in the sunlight. “You gotta wake up for real.” She screws back the cap of her water bottle.

“What are you doing here?” Azzi fumbles around for her glasses, slipping them on as she takes in the sight of Paige in her room for the first time in weeks. She blinks rapidly, trying to get ahold of her bearings.

Paige stuffs her hands into the pockets of her puffer. “Your doctor called me. Said you missed your last rehab appointment?” She raises an eyebrow at this.

Azzi rolls over in bed, stuffing her face into a pillow. It’s too early to deal with this. All she wants to do is go back to sleep, her only escape from the nightmare that’s been her life recently. “What does that have to do with you?”

“Check the time.”

Glancing at her watch and seeing that it’s almost noon, she curses. She’d forgotten to set her alarm last night. Even if she left now, she’d still be hours late - her rehab center is all the way in New York.

“He asked me if I knew where you were, seeing as you haven’t been responding to most of his messages or calls lately.”

Choosing to ignore the question hiding in her words, Azzi searches frantically among her blankets for her phone. “Shit, I gotta call an Uber.” But Paige rests a hand on her wrist, the warmth of her touch burning through the long sleeve she’s wearing. Azzi’s pulse quickens.

“I’ll take you.”

“No, it’s really okay,” Azzi objects.

“Az. By the time the Uber comes you’re gonna be even more late. You won’t even make it by the time they close.” When Azzi still doesn’t look convinced, Paige adds, “I seriously have nothing else to do. Let me take you.”

Azzi hesitates before finally relenting with a nod. She’s already been on a thin ice with her doctors before missing her last appointment, and every minute she shows up late today is another minute under their scrutinizing gaze and interrogations.

Pulling on the sweater Paige had thrown at her, she rushes around the room, trying to collect her things and get dressed as fast as possible. Paige tosses her random items as she gets ready - socks, her shoes, her purse. The older girl seems to know what Azzi needs before she even says anything, and it makes her miss their dynamic even more - Paige always understood her so easily.

The look in Paige’s eyes hasn’t left Azzi’s mind since that night. She knows she should’ve said something, done anything to take that destroyed look off of her face. And she’d regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth, every step taken with Micaela and away from Paige feeling like another crack in the shattered glass of their friendship. But she hadn’t had the strength to turn around and apologize then, to face Paige when she could barely look in the mirror and face herself.

Afterwards, she’d expected the older girl to be frustrated, upset, angry at her. But in their clipped interactions during practices and team events, Paige never snapped or made snide comments. Instead, she almost seemed timid, wary and withdrawn, like she was just hurt, and somehow? Somehow that was even worse.

“Hey.” Paige glances over at her, surprise flickering across her face. They’d been sitting in silence for the past hour, aside from the occasional comment on the passing scenery. Paige had seemed lost in thought, her eyes darting around quickly like they usually do when she’s zoned out. But now she has Paige’s attention. This is her opportunity. Azzi shifts in her seat. “I just wanted to say I’m, uh, sorry about the other night.”

Paige’s face remains indifferent, indecipherable. Azzi searches for any sliver of emotion in her expression - the familiar furrow of her eyebrows when she’s upset, the crease at the corner of her mouth when she’s sad - anything. But Paige’s face is carefully controlled, as if she doesn’t trust Azzi with her emotions, and Azzi thinks this might hurt more than anything. “It’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Paige’s hands tighten ever so slightly on the steering wheel. “I’m glad Micaela looks out for you.”

They fall into silence again. Azzi isn’t used to this either - Paige being silent, not chatting her ear off. She’s treading in unfamiliar waters, and it almost feels like she’s drowning. “I put you as the emergency number.” Azzi finally says. “That’s why they called you.”

“Aw, I thought Janelle just missed my face,” Paige says, her lips tugging upwards, and Azzi sighs in relief. A joke. She can work with this.

“I can change it, if you want,” she offers.

Paige looks at her weirdly, as if Azzi had just proposed something preposterous. “Why the hell would you change it?”

“I mean, I don’t want them to keep bothering you about stuff. I can just change the contact to Micaela?”

“No, don’t change it,” Paige says a little bit too quickly. “I know more, um, basketball and treatment stuff. It’ll be easier if they just contact me.” Paige doesn’t say that she doesn’t trust anyone else to be Azzi’s emergency contact. That she needs to be the first to show up if Azzi ever needs anything, that no one can understand Azzi like she does.

“Okay,” Azzi agrees. She taps her fingertips on her knee. “I won’t change it.”

Paige finally looks at her, and Azzi swears she sees the familiar softening of her eyes. But she turns her gaze back on the road, and it’s gone. “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, Azzi’s stomach grumbles. “A little bit.”

Paige jabs her thumb towards the back seat. “I brought some snacks. Help yourself.”

Azzi reaches over, grabbing the bag and ruffling through it. Gummy worms, chocolate chip cookies, Quest protein bars - all her favorite snacks. And - a Tupperware of strawberries, and a mini jar of Nutella. “Did you pack this for me?”

Paige’s cheeks color. “No,” she says defensively. “I just happened to grab your favorites.”

“Aw, Paige,” Azzi coos, earning a roll of the eyes and a swat from Paige. She dodges her hand and laughs, and they almost feel normal again. But then Paige clears her throat, and says, “So what’s up with rehab? Why’d you miss your last appointment?” And Azzi knows that that momentary slice of normalcy could only last so long.

“Micaela was having a rough day. I wanted to stay home and make sure she was okay.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “You know every appointment you miss is another day you can’t play?”

“I know that. I missed one appointment, it’s not the end of the world. She gave me some stuff to do at home and I followed all of her instructions,” Azzi defends.

“Bullshit.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief. “You know that your actions affect the entire team too? It’s another game we have to figure out a way to work without you.”

“God, Paige, you’re acting as if I completely fucked up my entire rehab,” Azzi laughs incredulously. “It was one day.”

“One day you chose to fool around with a girl rather than focus on basketball,” Paige says sharply.

“Oh, please,” Azzi scoffs. “Fool around with girls? Yeah, real fresh, Paige. Let’s talk about how many girls you hit up at the bar every fucking week.”

“You know I don’t do that shit anymore. I have a girlfriend,” Paige shoots back.

Azzi’s eyes burn, and she forces herself to look out the window again, to blink away the tears before they start to form. Yet another reminder of how she was never good enough for Paige - Paige could never take her eyes off other girls when they were friends with benefits, but with Ella, she didn’t even want to look at anyone else. “Good for you,” Azzi replies coldly. They sit in silence for the rest of the car ride.

••

Azzi doesn’t want to admit it, but rehab somehow becomes bearable again with the presence of her best friend, even if the tension between them is still suffocating. Paige, always attuned to Azzi’s feelings, seemed to have noticed the negative shift in Azzi’s mood as soon as she entered the facility. She’d started cracking jokes at everyone they talked to, and although she never even made eye contact with Azzi, the younger girl knew that her sudden playful behavior was for her.

Even now, as Janelle works her fingers around her scar tissue, Paige is sitting just inches from her, telling a long story about an encounter she’d had with some crazy fans. Azzi is mostly quiet, merely contributing a nod or a laugh every so often, but she nevertheless appreciates it, because even despite petty arguments, Paige has always made it a point to look out for her. Azzi thinks to herself that it couldn’t possibly be her fault that she’s always been so caught up with the older girl. Paige was too easy to fall in love with.

Janelle’s phone rings suddenly, and she excuses herself to take it. “Paige, can you take over for a sec? Massage the tissue around her scar, just like how we did it with you.”

Paige looks hesitantly at Janelle’s retreating figure before slipping into her chair, taking over her position. Her hands hover over Azzi’s knee, almost as if she’s afraid to hurt her by touching her. “Is this okay?” she asks softly. And Azzi wants to laugh, because if someone had told her a month ago that Paige would be asking for permission to touch her when she’d once had her hands constantly on her waist and back and butt, she would’ve thought they were insane.

And Azzi’s not even sure if she can handle Paige touching her, because her heart is already thumping from the mere proximity of her presence. But Paige is waiting with bated breath and hopeful eyes, so she nods. Paige presses her thumbs into the tissue around her knee, moving them in soft circles. Azzi’s numb where her scar is, so she can’t really feel Paige’s touch until she shifts slightly, and the blonde’s fingers graze the sensitive skin of her inner thigh for just a second, and she lets out a little sigh. Paige freezes for a second before continuing to work more firmly around her knee.

“Paige.”

Paige looks up at her, and all Azzi can focus on is how pink and kissable her lips look, and the pretty flutter of her long lashes. They lock eyes, neither of them saying anything, scared to start another argument that will blow a fuse between them. But then Paige slowly lowers her mouth to her knee, her gaze stubborn on Azzi’s. She presses a kiss to Azzi’s scar, lips lingering on her skin as her thumb continues to stroke circles into the side of her knee. Azzi brushes a strand of hair away from Paige’s eyes, gently tucking it behind her ear, her thumb caressing her cheek for a brief second before she drops her hand.

“I said to massage my patient, Bueckers, not feel her up in my office,” Janelle reprimands as she steps back into the room. Paige jumps away quickly, looking at anything but Azzi, tucking her hands behind her back like a little child whose just been caught stealing a cookie red handed. Azzi licks her lips, wishing that Janelle could’ve waited just two more seconds.

Her doctor looks between the two of them with a knowing smirk. “I got it from here,” she tells Paige. “Go make yourself useful and stop distracting her.”

“I’ll go, er, fill up the ice tub,” Paige stammers, scurrying off before Janelle can make another comment. She busies herself for the next hour or so, filling bags of ice for other patients, making sure Azzi’s water bottle is filled, everything and anything she can do to keep her mind off the sound of Azzi’s breathy moan and the way it had made her feel warm all over. She had a girlfriend, for Christ’s sake. A girlfriend that couldn’t make her feel half of what Azzi made her feel.

When she’s finally done, Azzi is waiting for her in the lobby. “You might have to drive back alone,” Azzi says. “They said I should come back tomorrow because I missed my last one. Think I might just book a hotel room and stay over.” Azzi’s about to fall asleep on her feet, and she doesn’t feel like waking up at 5 am tomorrow to repeat the long drive.

“You’re funny for expecting me to let you stay in a random city by yourself.” Paige grabs Azzi’s duffel and tosses it over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

••

Paige comes out of the bathroom in boxer shorts and a tank top. She wrings her hair with a towel, and Azzi’s eyes skim appreciatively over the muscle of her arms going taut.

“Wanna put a movie on before we sleep?”

Azzi nods, and Paige somehow manages to find a channel that’s playing Frozen. They sit on the bed at first, stiff. All the rooms with doubles were already booked, so they’d had to settle for the room with the biggest bed possible. But even as they sit on opposite sides of the king bed, the distance between them feels too small, too weak to stop the energy in the air between them.

And neither of them knows how it happens, but as the movie plays, they’re shifting closer and closer together until their arms are touching, their knees pressed against each other. Then Paige is moving Azzi onto her lap, and Azzi isn’t resisting, letting the blonde take control of her hips and place her in her lap.

They stare at each other for half a second, indecision running through their minds. Azzi knows that whatever happens next won’t fix whatever’s going on between them - the constant arguing, the back and forth, the exhaustion. It’ll only make it worse, complicate things until they’re tied into a messy tangle of knots. But Paige looks so soft in the dim light of the room, her hair loose and wavy and down and her eyes tired, and her skin still warm from the heat of her shower, that Azzi thinks that she just has to feel her, for just one second, and before she can stop herself she’s nuzzling her face into the crook of Paige’s neck. The older girl shudders at the feeling of Azzi’s lips grazing her pulse point, heat blossoming in her lower tummy. “We can’t do this,” Azzi whispers, even as she tucks her body in closer to Paige.

Paige’s hands wander down to Azzi’s ass, pressing their hips together. They both groan at the feeling. “Why the fuck not?”

“You have a girlfriend,” Azzi gasps as she rolls her hips, grinding against Paige’s lap. “And I have a girlfriend. This will fuck everything up.”

“Me and Ella are taking a break,” Paige moans, hips bucking up as she searches for more friction. Azzi whimpers, and it takes everything in Paige not to lose all control at how needy the younger girl sounds.

“How the fuck are you guys already on a break?” Azzi pants.

“Trust me, we are.” Paige suckles on Azzi’s neck beneath her ear, nibbling at the skin and tasting her sweat with a swipe of her tongue.

“This is so wrong,” Azzi whimpers, but she laces her hand through Paige’s hair and tugs her even closer. She can feel Paige smirk against her neck, her warm breath damp on her skin.

“Are you and Micaela exclusive yet?” Paige’s fingers creep closer to the waistband of Azzi’s shorts, itching to dip below.

“No,” Azzi moans. “Not yet.” She grinds against Paige again, getting lost in the slow, sensual rhythm of their bodies moving together in pure want.

“So what’s so wrong about this?” Paige rasps. “Because it feels so right.” She runs her hands up Azzi’s bare thighs, heart beating wildly at the sight of the prettiest girl on her lap, her abs flexing as she moves, eyes big and dark and blown out. Her thumb briefly pushes up her shorts, stroking her upper thigh, making the younger girl shudder. She kisses a line down Azzi’s clavicle, leaving a messy and heated trail of spit. “Let me make you feel good. Please.”

Azzi groans, and she’s so close to giving in, so close to taking Paige’s hand and guiding it to where she needs it most, so close to letting Paige take all control and have her way with her, until Paige pants, “Come on baby. It’s just sex.”

It’s just sex.

Fuck you, Paige Bueckers.

[sturnlsstuff]

NOT SO TOUGH | ghostface!matt

ghostface!matt comes to you for help after geting hurt on one of his "nights out".

— warnings; blood, mentions of murder & violence, cursing

requested by this person !! divider credits. @anitalenia

it was a quiet evening in which you finally found some time to take care of yourself, do skincare, watch your favorite shows and read a book. you were home alone, a week after finishing your finals at college, and you needed some relaxation and peace. you didn't think anything could destroy your alone time tonight.

until someone started banging on your door around midnight.

confused by someone visiting at such an hour, you get out of bed and lazily trudge to the door, first obviously checking who it was. a frown appears between your eyebrows and your heart skips a beat. you unlock the door, "matt? what are you—"

he practically pushes himself forward, almost losing his balance and leaning on your body for support. "fuck, sorry— are you... are you alone?"

"yeah," you kick the door shut with your foot, arm wrapping around his waist causing hiss to escape from his mouth. matt takes off his blood stained ghostface mask, tossing it to the side so you were able to see his face. he didn't look too good, blood dripping from his nose, hair messed up, dark circles under his eyes. your heart drops at the sight. "what— what happened?"

"fuckin' disaster, that's what happened." he retorts dryly, grimacing in pain as you start leading him to the bathroom. "i know is late, i just didn't really know where to go. i couldn't... couldn't show up like this at my place, y'know."

after helping him sit down on the closed toilet, you stand between his legs, grabbing his jaw and examining his face against the light to see better. he gently smacks your hand away, "is nothing, y'need to help me with this." he points at his black robe, only now it is noticeable that it was damaged, torn in some places and also bloody, your mind swirling with questions, assumptions and worries.

you help him untangle himself from the robe, several curses and painful groans filling the bathroom. underneath he had a black t-shirt through which you could also see the blood stain. you lock eyes with him, "matt. what the fuck happened?"

he rolls his eyes, trying to take off the shirt with which you're also quick to help. "i was out, doing my... stuff. had to take care of things, but it went slightly in a wrong direction—"

"slightly?!"

your eyes widen, breath catches in your throat as his bare chest is revealed to your gaze with numerous bruises forming on it and — what's worse, a cut on his rib from which blood was oozing out.

"yeahhhh... business problems," his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, before he winces when your fingers brush against his bruises. his skin feels exposed under your eyes, and he can see that concerned expression of yours that you were giving him more and more often recently. he sighs, "it looks worse than it feels, i promise. don't worry 'bout it."

"i'm not..." you mutter quietly.

he smirks, blood from his nose begins to flow down his mouth and chin. "sure you don't, sweetheart."

"matt, you should see a doctor. i'm serious, this is...."

"be realistic," he scoffs. "i can't go to the hospital. it'd arouse suspicions. you gotta be my doctor for tonight." he cracks a little smile, his amusement making you annoyed.

"you're helpless."

"wooow, low blow, low blow—"

you quickly find the first aid kit and take a towel, soaking it slightly with water. standing between his legs again, you tilt his head back, starting to wipe the blood from his face. "so how did it happen? and i don't wanna hear any of this 'business problems' bullshit."

he sighs, eyes locked on your face. "my victim was such a fighter, apparently. didn't really want to die." his words makes a shiver goes down your spine, even if you were already used to his lifestyle. "there were two of 'em, wanting to make sure to leave me with a few gifts." once he sees the death stare you give him, he decides to push the jokes aside. "it was just a little harder this time. one of 'em punched me in the face with something, which explains this," he points at his face that was now clean. "if not my mask, i'd probably get my nose fuckin' broken."

"and what about this?" you urge him to lean back slightly and look at the cut on his ribs that is still leaking blood. it wasn't deep luckily, but looked nasty.

"the other one tried to defend himself with a knife and scratched me a little bit—"

"scratched you? jesus christ, matt..." you start cleaning the wound without warning, causing him to flinch and curse loudly. "oh, sorry— sorry..."

"be maybe a bit gentler, huh?"

you kneel between his legs, looking up at him with clear annoyance, "what's the problem, tough guy? i thought it only scratched you."

"oh, shut up..." he rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly, but then he groaned again as you continued to clean up the cut.

"not so tough now, hm?" you tease, but then gets more serious as the blood is still oozing out. "matt, you need to be more careful. and why the fuck would you even attack two guys when you're on your own? are you crazy?"

"hey, don't question my skills just 'cos i got hurt. it never happens, there always has to be a first time." he watches as you use a clean cloth, trying to stanch the gash on his skin. then you wrap the bandage tightly around his waist. luckily the wound really wasn't that big and didn't need to be seen by a doctor like you thought at the beginning. "besides..." he hisses uncomfortably. "i know what m'doing is dangerous and it's not gonna stop me. so quit worrying, m'kay?" he grips your wrist when you stand up, about to pull away. he pulls you to sit on his thigh, his hands finding its ways to your hips. "i'm serious."

"it's just... i never know what to expect from you," your arm wraps around his shoulder. "what if next time is going to be something worse? like..."

"m'good at what i'm doing, sweetheart. and you know it," he presses a small kiss on your neck, which breaks your attitude, causing to smile. "and to be honest? you're pretty good at being my personal nurse, so maybe i should start getting hurt more often."

"matt, don't even fucking joke like that," you reply, getting a chuckle in response which quickly turns into a slight cough and grimace, his chest and ribs in pain. "see? karma."

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[subjectnr8]

Vander's nightmare 🐺

Silco's infected eye does not have eyelids. It constantly stares into the darkness, angry and burning into anyone's soul. A humans eyes roll back when they sleep, so I can only imagine Silco's damaged eye does the same.

And now paint the picture with me!

Tw: Violence?

The river was colder than Vander remembered. Cold water wrapped around his legs and wrists, soaking his clothes. It rained. Thunder crashed over the darkness of the sky above their heads. A scenery painted by nothing more than sheer hatred and the blood on his knife.

The warmth of blood was lost between the greenish toxins of the river and yet Vander felt this fire underneath his skin. Underneath his palms, in his veins. Icy tendrils wrapped around his arms as he plunged Silco’s head beneath the water, silencing his screams and pleas.

But Silco didn’t stop fighting, not even as Vander pushed a knife into his eyeball. It was hard to see through the rain and even harder to spot what was going on in the wavy, dirty water below him. But Vander could watch the green sluggish river slowly turn red as he scooped against the bone of Silco’s cheek.

“Vander!” The scream was chilling and yet quickly drowned by waves. Silco fought like a wild animal, reaching the surface just in time only to be pushed back down again. Vander’s grip only grew tighter the longer this went on.

The smaller man scratched his arms, tried to lunge at him and get away. But all of it in vain. Silco tossed and turned and inhaled a lung full of water, screaming and yelling drowned out slowly. Bones break beneath Vander’s fingers. Theres a sick motion of Silco’s Adams apple being squeezed and pushed aside, a horrified teal eye glanced up from the waves as the waves grew still and crimson.

His one good eye was wide, wild with fury and betrayal, while the other— Vander shook his head, refusing to look. He pressed harder, his hands trembling. The water stayed unmoving. Minutes pass with no movement, no cry for mercy and no failing attempt to lunge at Vander’s head. Silence, and rain.

When Vander finally looked down, Silco’s face stared back at him, pale and lifeless. His left eye now an artwork of bleeding flesh and white bone. Cut veins and peeling skin floated out of the dark socket that was washed out by poisonous water.

“Vander.” His name wasn’t a scream this time. It was a whisper. “Blisters and Bedrock.”

Vander woke with a start, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. He shot up in bed with a violent twitch, sweat dripping down his forehead as his lung stung with pain at his deep panic breaths. He escaped from the nightmare’s claws.

The room was quiet, quiet as a grave, and only a lantern from outside the window cast some light into the darkness of the bedroom. Vander rose a shaking hand to brush the beads of sweat from his brow. “This damn nightmare.” He cussed, looking beside him at Silco, craving comfort. But what he saw froze the very blood in his veins. Again.

Silco slept beside him, his sleeping mask had slipped off his face as it revealed the angry black eye staring right at Vander. The iris was completely infected with black toxins and an accusing shade of orange nearly rolled back into Silco’s skull. Silco’s skin, pale even in the best of times, seemed ashen in the dim light. For a horrifying moment, Vander thought he was looking at a corpse.

“Silco!” he choked out, grabbing his partner’s shoulder and shaking him roughly. Silco groaned, his face twisting in annoyance and semi shock. “What… in the hells are you doing?” His voice was hoarse with sleep, and he cracked his good eye open just enough to glare at Vander. Silco pushed the sleeping mask off his face, now both eyes glared angrily at Vander.

But all Vander could do was to sag with relief, his hands dropping from Silco's shoulders. “You weren't moving” Vander croaked and inched away from his sleepy partner.

Silco blinked slowly and rubbed his healthy eye, trying to get over the shock of being ripped out of a good night’s sleep. "Well, that usually happens when people want to sleep." he muttered and let himself relay back on an elbow. "And I'd like to continue, if you don't mind.

“I dreamed- ... you looked dead,” Vander muttered. His expression panicked with eyes wide open in panic and nightmares haunting his nights.

Silco sighed and dragged a hand down across his face. This wasn't the first time he was woken up by Vander's nightmares. "That's what happens when you sleep with no eyelids. You really should get used to that; you made me look like this after all."

The words hit harder than Silco likely intended but Vander's guilt latched onto them like a parasite hungry for sustenance. "I didn't mean to-" Vander swallowed thickly as he drew his hands back into his lap, trying to stop the trembling. After all, he had meant it all those years ago. He had been out for blood, to drown the revolutionary spirit with blood and water.

"Vander." The sharpness of Silco's tone managed to snap him right out of his self-loathing thoughts and back into their dark bedroom. "I'm here", Silco simply said, nudging their foreheads together as they usually did. "I'm not leaving again."

Vander let out a shaky breath and reached up to gently caress the damage his angry past self had left on this precious man before him. Silco would never truly forgive him for what he had done, Vander knew it, but for now this was enough.

The god damn Silco Discord Server traumatised me in the best way possible. He doesn't know it but Ian inspired the drowning shit out of this so heyyyy

[starlitsprout]

Shared Walls (Peter Parker x Reader) (I)

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Summary:

Finding a roommate in New York City is like searching for water in the middle of the desert- or your case, a decent person who isn’t a creep and who can afford to pay rent on time. Just when you were about to call it quits, you stumbled upon a post created by Peter Parker. After doing some digging around, making sure this guy wasn’t an axe-swinging murderer, you find out that he’s a quiet, nerdy college student, who looks like he won’t chop you up to bits. You message him, and after some talking back and forth, you agree to be roommates.

At first, living with Peter Parker was great! Peter is polite, cleans up after himself, pays his half of the rent on time, and is usually too occupied with school or work to cause any drama. Perfect roommate right? But after a year and a half of living together,  things turn strange, when your “perfect” roommate turns up with strange mysterious bruises and gets home at odd hours of the night. What could he be up to? 

Word count: 2.5K

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*THUD*

A muffled thud coming from the room next to yours jolts you awake, dragging you from your dreams. For a moment, you lay still, blinking into the darkness of your room, heart thumping. You try to take in some deep breaths in an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep and prevent a heart attack. You know it's probably just Peter, coming back late, for the fifth time this week, from what you guess is either work or another late-night study session with Ned and MJ. 

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep, the sound of something–or someone–stumbling into furniture, followed by loud hushed cursing, wakes you right up again. You sit up in your bed, annoyed, and rub your eyes in frustration, your eyes then dart to the glowing red numbers of your alarm clock. 

3:25 AM.

You let out a loud sign, and run your hand through your hair. 

What on earth was Peter doing this time? 

Pushing back your covers, you sat up, maybe a bit too quickly as you felt a bit light-headed, or maybe that was just the sleep deprivation finally kicking in. No matter what the reason was, you stumble out of your room, towards Peter’s. 

As you approach his room, you hear the sounds of heavy footsteps, the scrape of something hard against the floor, and… a quiet groan?

Curiosity and concern wash away your sleepiness as you raise your hand to knock on the door. You silently pray to yourself that you’re not about to interrupt your roommate during a…private moment, but being the slightly noisy and curious person that you are you decide to stay true to yourself and knock anyway.

Knocking on his door softly, you whisper, “Peter? Is everything alright?”

The shuffling abruptly stops, and for a few moments, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your breathing. 

Then Peter’s voice cut through the silence, high-pitched and filled with anxiety. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m Fine. Totally Fine! No reason to not be! I uh… just dropped something! Sorry!” 

You furrow your eyebrows, hand hovering over the doorknob. “At three in the morning?”

Another pause fills the air, and then Peter responds, “You know me! Night Owl! Haha!”

On any other night, you would've just brushed off Peter’s weird behavior, but after five nights of waking up at 3 in the morning due to whatever the hell your roommate was up to that night, finally got to you. This time you were going to figure out what was going on, and seeing that you weren’t going to get a straight answer without asking him face-to-face, you crack the door open. With your mind racing with paranoid thoughts, that only you could come up with in the dead of night. Maybe Peter got drunk and wandered in clumsily or maybe your thoughts of him secretly being a drug dealer were true and he was getting high off his own suppl–

And then you saw him.

With the door now fully open, Peter was sitting in his desk chair, with only the dim light of his small desk lamp to illuminate his figure. His face was bruised and streaked with dirt and blood and his lip was swollen with a cut at the corner of his mouth. His appearance just screamed, “Hey I just got beaten up by an angry mob” and “I’m definitely not okay no matter what I say!” It was overall concerning.

But what was most concerning, was that even with the cuts and bruises, he was… kind of hot.

You blinked, trying to focus, but either you were losing your mind over the fact it was way past your bedtime or there was something truly captivating about the way his messy brown curls framed his face, or how cute he looked in his oversized longsleeved t-shirt decorated with the world’s most cringy science pun, which was so Peter. Along with some dark gray sweatpants that seemed to fit him just right. 

Peter shifted anxiously under your gaze, with his shirt shifting just enough for you to see the fabric underneath– a smooth, almost sleek blue and red material that didn’t look like it belonged with the rest of his outfit. 

“Uh… Peter? Are you okay?” Your voice came out a little too loud in comparison to the stillness of the night. Peter looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, scratching the back of his neck with one hand, and tugging his shirt down with the other. 

“Oh, hey I’m good. Sorry for waking you up Y/N. I didn’t mean to,” He said quickly, flashing a sheepish smile that was a little too strained to convince you that he was alright. 

You stepped further into the room, eyes still locked onto Peter’s disheveled appearance. Your brain, which was still waking up, was trying to process the scene around you. But you just couldn’t make sense of it. Why was Peter up this late? What was he wearing? You didn’t know. 

What you did know was that you were a little too aware of how good your roommate was looking at the moment. 

You mentally slapped yourself. Focus Y/N, focus. This was Peter! You're kind of awkward, socially inept, and constantly rambling on when he’s a nervous roommate! Not one of those guys from the soap operas you're always watching when you should be studying for your nursing exams.  

But as you stood there, trying to ignore how the dim light casted a soft glow over his bruised face, or how his jawline was looking especially sharp, you subconsciously closed the distance between the two of you, standing in front of him, slightly grazing your right hand against his face, barely touching his bruised skin. 

You can feel Peter staring at you in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from analyzing his beaten-up features. “Peter,” your gaze shifts as you meet his eyes, “what happened to you?”

He winces slightly as you accidentally make too much contact with his bruised face, causing you to draw your hand quickly and whisper a small “Sorry.” 

Once again Peter attempts to put on a convincing smile. “It’s alright, a-and I’m fine really, just got a little banged up. It’s nothing, just might need a bandage or two,” e said as if those words could convince you he wasn’t in pain. 

You frown at him and quickly walk out leaving Peter in confusion, staring at where you once stood in his room. Only moments later you return with a first-aid kit and start tending to his wounds, his softy groans in pain as the ointment touches his cuts. “You don’t have to do this Y/N, I’ll be okay. You need to go back to sleep, I’ve already kept you up,” he tells you.

You ignore his wishes and continue patching him up as best as possible. “I just need a bandage or two my ass. You look like you got hit by a bus. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now, not when I know you’re hurt.” Peter smiles at you and quietly thanks you as you continue your work, the time now being 4 in the morning. 

As you work, carefully wiping off dirt and applying antiseptic to his cuts, Peter winces with every touch, although he tries to hide behind it with small smiles and a bit of small talk. His eyes are glassy, not from the pain, but from something deeper–something that he’s not sharing with you. As you’re about to question him once again about the situation, you notice blood starting to leak and spread through his shirt and whatever weird compression shirt he’s wearing beneath it. “Woah, Peter. This is worse than I thought your chest is bleeding, I’m going to need you to lift your shirt so I can see what’s going on.” You say as your face reddens a bit at the thought of seeing your roommate of almost two years possibly shirtless. 

He hesitates for a moment, and you watch him, studying his movements. The way he shifts once again in his seat, avoiding your gaze. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks back at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. 

“Okay,” he whispers nervously. “But… could you turn around for a sec, I’ll.. I’ll take off my shirt, but I- just please,” he says quickly.

You nod your head quickly, turning your back to him. Your heartbeat quickens for reasons you rather not explore, you know you shouldn’t lose focus again. You just need to help Peter. 

You hear the soft shuffle of fabric behind you, followed by the faint sound of something–maybe his shirt— being pulled off and falling to the ground. The air shifts as he moves, and you mentally slap yourself as you realize how awkward this situation must be for him. Your future career is going to be as a nurse, and yet you can’t help but feel a bit shy and nervous.

But you have no choice but to push your emotions away, you know you need to help out no matter how red your face seems to get. 

You hear him settle back into the chair, and you take that as your cue to turn around.

Once again you are in shock.

Peter is sitting there, upper body exposed, with his sweat pants loosely hanging off his hips, and his chest exposed with more cuts and bruises than you expected along with his–

Wait. Abs?

You blink, not quite believing your eyes. Since when did Peter Parker, the Star Wars nerd, and the “brain over brawn” type guy have abs like this? Tonight is just full of surprises.

The muscles adoring his torse are defined in a way that is, to be completely honest mouth-watering. You try to shake it off, but the sight is almost overwhelming. He’s got this toned, sculpted six-pack that you’re pretty sure wasn’t there the last time you saw him shirtless, which, granted, has been never. 

FOCUS! You mentally yell at yourself. Remember Peter is your roommate, your friend, the guy who rants to you for hours about what he does in his chem labs every Friday. He’s injured, and you’re here to patch him up–- not ogle at how good he looks. 

Trying to keep your composure, you start to grab items out of your first-aid kit and get back to work patching him up. Peter was clearly aware of your lingering gaze but chose not to say anything about it, instead choosing to fidget around in his chair.

As you finally wrap up, you give him one last look over, checking for anything else that needs attention. His eyes meet yours, for what feels like the millionth time this night, but for a moment, there’s an intensity lingering within the silence. You almost feel like you should try to say something again, but you choose not to, knowing that Peter will give you the run-around…again.

Peter swallows hard, breaking the tension. “Thanks for this Y/N. Seriously. I…I owe you one.”

You give him a soft smile in return, still trying to push down the bizarre mix of emotions roiling inside you. “Don’t mention it,” you tell him, as you quickly pack up your stuff. “You should be all good, just don’t do anything too intensive or straining, doctor’s orders” you lightheartedly joke as you get ready to leave his room. 

As you begin to walk toward the door, you hear Peter’s quiet, almost hesitant voice behind you.”

“Y/N..”

He slowly and carefully stands up from his chair, carefully to not ruin the work you did caring for his wounds, walking up to you. You turn to look at him, your hand on the doorknob.

“I…,” he continues, his voice shaky. “I don’t know how to thank you for this, for everything. I mean, I woke you up and you still helped me. You are a wonderful roommate and an even better friend, and I wish I could explain to you what’s going on–,” he pauses letting out a deep breath. 

You stand there, unsure how to handle the growing tension. But the raw sincerity in his words keeps you there, standing at the door. Peter’s eyes are wide with gratitude, his chest still bare, the remnants of your first aid work still visible along his skin. 

“I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this. It’s..It’s not what I wanted, and it's not what you signed up for as my roommate. I promise I’ll be more careful next time, that way you won’t have to fix me up again.” His gaze on you is intense, searching like there’s something else he wants to say. You know there's more weight to his words, he not just apologizing for interrupting your much-needed sleep with his late-night antics, he’s apologizing for not being the friend he knows he should be.

Something inside you shifts, as you let go of the doorknob and take a step closer to him. You’ve spent the last year and a half sharing this space, sharing your life with Peter, to late-night study sessions, countless Star Wars marathons, and game nights with MJ and Ned. You’ve known from the beginning that Peter kept a lot of aspects of his life to himself, telling you enough so you could get to know him but never enough to let you in. Through all of that, you’d never imagined this side of Peter. 

“Peter…I need you to be safe. I get that you don’t want to tell me where you go every night and I guess I can live with that but I need you to be safe,” you say as you fiddle with your hands. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again…I care about you too much.”

The room seems to get quiet, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, realizing what you just said and if you should have said it at all. 

Peter looks at you for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then almost as if the tension finally snapped, he reaches out for you. 

Without any time to react, Peter grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him. Before you can get any words out of your mouth, Peter captures your lips with his own. 

The kiss is soft, but needy at the same time as if Peter is trying to convey everything he was hesitant to say in your conversation. His hands move gently towards your waist, and you instinctively respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. 

It was a shock and unplanned, but at the same time, it felt right as if it was the most natural thing in the world. When you both finally pull away, breathless, you’re left staring at each other lost in a daze. 

Peter’s face flushed red, “I’m sorry, I just–I needed to show you how much I appreciate you and care about you. I understand that it was uncalled for and if I made you uncomfortabl–.” He rambles on but you quickly cut him off. 

“It's okay,” you whisper, feeling a warmth spread through you. 

You both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying the sweetness of the moment. There’s definitely no going back now. 

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( Authors Note: Yay!!! That's the end of the first part!! I hope y’all enjoy my first fic, it's my first time writing in five years, so please forgive me for my rusty skills, I’m still getting back into the groove of writing. I’m hoping to make this fic a series, where Peter, Ned, and MJ get to go to MIT and everyone is happy and alive. I just wanted to make something that isn’t too intense for my first fic back and a bit easier for me to maintain! Anyway hope you enjoyed!)

[feroluce]

So we were talking about Dan Heng reincarnating in the boothenghill server recently. I think there's a lot of wiggle room in there for how it would go, given

a) we know very little about the transmutation arcanum and how All That works and

b) Dan Feng fucked around hard and found out even harder, so anything we would have known anyway is kaput.

This is something that, apparently, has never occurred before. There's no precedent. There should never be two Vidyadhara with draconic features at the same time, but even so, we have Dan Heng and Bailu both displaying tails and horns.

tl;dr I have a permit that says I can do whatever I want!

In the case that they find out Dan Heng will no longer reincarnate the same way- with Dan Feng having successfully broken the line of the Imbibitor Lunae- I think Dan Heng would be happy about it, in a way. He'll reincarnate the same as any other Vidyadhara now, where he will be a completely different person with no memories every time. There's no more pain or expectations to inherit. Whoever comes after him will have the clean slate he'd always wanted.

The only bitterness he holds about the whole ordeal is that it means he'll be leaving Boothill alone.

And so Dan Heng holds out as long as he can, to the point that even Bailu goes before him ("Now next time you'll have to call me jiejie haha!") but eventually the time comes for a hatching rebirth, and he and Boothill make their way back to the Luofu, to Scalegorge Waterscape.

(As he gets older, as he pushes the limit of the Vidyadhara lifespan, Dan Heng gets slightly more delirious, more forgetful. One morning, Boothill wakes up to Dan Heng trying to crawl out of bed half-asleep, asking what time it is. He was supposed to get up early to help Himeko make breakfast, so he can try to save everyone's stomachs.

Himeko has been long gone for centuries.

Boothill coaxes Dan Heng back into bed with him, tells him it's alright, someone else took over breakfast duty this morning. He forgot to tell him last night. Sorry. Dan Heng settles back in, right up against a warm metal chest plate, goes back to sleep.

If he remembers any of this later when he wakes up again, he doesn't say anything. Neither does Boothill.)

Boothill knows the water isn't good for him. He stubbornly wades out as far as he can anyway.

Dan Heng kisses him goodbye, pinches his cheek, tells him to behave himself through the crack in his voice. There's not much left to say at this point, they've been saying their goodbyes for days now. Boothill cheekily makes no promises, even as he slides his own hand over Dan Heng's, cradles the flat of his palm against his face and holds it there as long as he can. Dan Heng finally disappears under the waves.

Boothill still can't cry.

One of the Pearlkeepers has to come up and chase Boothill out, how long he stands there rusting in the water.

He wouldn't tell Dan Heng about it, of course, but as the 700 year mark approached them, Boothill starting having Ideas. And he decides, as he stands there alone in the sand feeling horribly hollow like he hasn't in a long, long time, fine! Fuck it! Fine!!

Execute Operation Last Hurrah!!

Because I think Boothill should get to go out in a petty, spiteful blaze of glory! Let the man die like how he lived!!

Boothill had simmered down a bit after he killed Oswaldo Schneider, and then even moreso when he and Dan Heng got hitched. But now Dan Heng is gone. There's no one left to stick around for, or to keep him together. So Boothill just goes on an absolute bender.

He leaves everything he and Dan Heng had to charities and rebel organizations. He steals whatever he wants from the IPC and then some. He fucks over as many of their plans as he can, and as horribly as he can. He hijacks himself an entire spaceship to hide away whatever it is he's pilfered and made off with- just the things that are no use to anyone else or that he can't give away without causing too much trouble for the receiver, but he can destroy them and make sure they don't fall into the wrong hands ever again.

And then Boothill finds himself a nice cozy little spot in the captain's room, kicks back with his feet up as he sets course for the nearest sun.

He makes himself a sad little one-sided toast, with the godawful sake Dan Heng would always insist was good after you got used to it. Boothill already figures he's not gonna make it to wherever it is Dan Heng ended up. If he does, it's a sign somethin' ain't workin' right.

But oh, Hell is about to become so, so much worse for all them IPC folks down there.

See ya soon, Oswaldo! ☆

[shellsarepretty]

b-day boy

Walker Scobell x fem!Reader

warnings: some cursing

summary: it's walkers birthday, and you made sure it was a great sweet sixteen.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-

It was well into January fourth. The time was almost Midnight, and you were stuck on your phone. You were awkwardly lying down to get used to the long white chord connecting your phone to the nearest outlet.

At eleven-thirty, you opened up another can of Diet Coke. Sipping steadily at it, you walked to the bathroom and splashed a bit of cold water on your face. You sighed and walked back to your bed, where another was sleeping steadily.

The tall boy (who was sprawled like a starfish across his bed) was none other than Walker Scobell. Walker was a child actor (and a successful one at that.) He starred in all the movies (or TV shows) he was in. When directors heard his name, their faces would lift in smiles.

Walker is the absolute best. His work ethic and drive keep this film going. There isn't one person in this room that doesn't adore him.

You climbed back in bed, trying to carefully move Walker's hand from your half of the bed to his.

You then picked up your phone again. 11:40

sighing, you picked up your Diet Coke, gulping down a long draft of soda. You decided to go onto TikTok and keep your mind and eyes awake by scrolling aimlessly.

You felt an arm snake around your waist. Turning your head to glance at the boy behind you, you felt a warm surge of affection. The feeling flowered and blossomed until a soft smile broke out on your face.  

You shifted slightly, turning around to face Walker. Reaching out a soft hand, you carefully smoothed away a messy curl.

You continued to scroll on TikTok, checking the time every thirty seconds.

You finished your can of Diet Coke around 11:55. You carefully placed the can down on Walker's bedside table. You took the charging cord out of your phone. Resuming your position facing Walker, you snuggled closer to the boy.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly.

You glanced at the clock again. 11:57

You sang yourself Happy Birthday. 11:59

You counted to sixty. 12:00, Midnight.

Walker's Birthday.

Your hands found his hair, twisting a curl around your finger. Gently tapping his shoulder, you tried to wake him up.

"Walker, Walker. Wake up." You whispered. The boy next to you stirred a bit but didn't gain consciousness.

"Walker.." You tried again. You combed your free hand through his hair. The soft golden curls bounced back immediately. "Walker, c'mon, wake up."

You kissed the top of his head. "C'mon fish-face, wake up."

Walker slowly blinked open his eyes. Groggy blue irises met yours, and a soft smile graced his features.

"What is it?" Walker asked, his voice thick with sleep. You smiled and kissed him.

"Happy Birthday, Walk," you said after the quick peck.

"Birthday?" Walker looked slightly confused. "What time is it?"

You laughed, smiling sheepishly. "Twelve in the morning?" you said, giggling more when you saw Walker give you a look.

"You just couldn't wait 'till morning," Walker mumbled, his eyes already closing. You smiled, and the boy cuddled into you. His arm resumed the place it was, and his eyes closed with a smile on his face.

"See you in the morning, Walk. Happy Birthday." You whispered.

--

Walker woke up before you did. After all, he didn't stay up 'till Midnight like you did.

It was maybe 8:30 when you finally opened your eyes. The morning light streamed through the crack in the window shades, warming the spot of the hardwood floor in its path.

You honestly thought that you woke up before Walker because you sensed the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Looking down, you were met with soft blue eyes. You gasped and pressed Walker's head into your chest. Sort of like a hug.

"Jeez Walker. That scared me so badly." You said, laughing. Walker sheepishly pulled away from you.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up. You just looked so," He paused, searching for a word. "Peaceful." Walker smiled up at you. You returned his grin and sighed.

"You're gonna have the best birthday. I'm making sure of it." You promised him.

--

You walked in, candles lit, as everyone around you started singing.

"Happy Birthday to you," You reached the table where Walker sat.

"Happy Birthday to you," You placed the cake before Walker.

"Happy Birthday to Walker," You smiled. You joined in the wall of people that were crowding around him.

"Happy Birthday to you..." Everyone finished singing. The Percy Jackson cast erupted into cheers with Walker's family. Walker drew in a large breath and let it out, successfully blowing out his candles. You clapped along with them, hugging Walker from behind.

Your arms fell over his shoulders, wrapping around his sitting frame. You laughed from next to him, and he placed his hands on yours. He leaned his head onto yours.

His mom walked up to him. "Walker, do you want to cut the cake?" She asked. Walker broke out into a grin and nodded excitedly.

"Yes, please!"

Mrs. Scobell handed Walker the cake knife, and you stepped back. Walker stood from his chair, showing off his crazy growth spurt.

To think that we were once the same height.

You laughed at the thought.

Walker sunk the knife into the blue frosting and cut out a piece of cake. He picked up the rectangle with his knife and carefully put it on the paper plate.

"Does anyone want cake?" he asked, grinning.

--

You didn't notice that Dior was filming when all of you sang Happy Birthday to Walker. She showed the video to Tamara, giggling to herself.

Tamara looked at the video, noting how it started and how she remembered.

Video-you walked through the doorway with the cake in your hands. Your face was concentrated, eyes staring at the cake and the floor, making sure that you wouldn't trip over anything.

The thing that you didn't know was that Walker was staring at you. His eyes traced across your face and followed your every move. He had this little goofy smile on his face the entire time.

Tamara and Dior practically died when they watched it.

You died when they showed it to you. At first, you didn't get what they were looking at, but when they pointed Walker's face out, you immediately blushed.

You thought they would keep it on their phones, but it somehow ended up on social media.

The video went viral, and several fans coo-ed in the comments. While most of the reactions were great, some were just saying that Walker was way out of your league.

Did you give a fuck? No, you did not. Walker was your boyfriend, not the fans.

And besides, it was Walker's birthday, and he needed to be at his happiest.

--

After cake, Walker (plus the Percy Jackson cast and Secret Headquarters.) all went to Leah's gigantic house to watch Deadpool 2,

much to the delight of Walker.

The boy was bouncing off the walls the entire time. He was whispering whole scenes to himself, and he acted it out with his and your hands.

All of the friends laughed at him and gave him a good tease, but Walker didn't care.

He used to watch this movie all the time when he was thirteen.

He diffidently didn't mind watching it again with his friends surrounding him.

--

"Y/n!" Your favorite voice called out. You turned around to see Walker come jogging up to you.

"How's my favorite b-day boy doing?" You greeted him. Walker broke into a grin and wrapped you up in a tight hug. It was unexpected but welcomed.

You snaked your arms around his neck, standing on your tip-toes as Walker picked you up slightly off the ground.

"Great. You're here, so everything is amazing." Walker mumbled against your shoulder.

You both pulled away slowly, the hug lingering in the space between you.

Walker shot you a boyish grin and kissed you softly. He then pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

"My mom said that you planned all of this for me." He opened his eyes to glance at yours.

"It was nothing, really." You smiled. You felt a little bit of heat go around your cheeks.

Walker shoots you another shit-eating grin, and he pecks your lips again.

"You're the best," Walker said warmly. "The whole day with all of the cast has been amazing, and the cake was my favorite flavor, and Momo and Kenna were here. I'm so, so lucky."

"No, Walk. I am." You grinned at him.

()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-

i set this up to post at 12:00 am on jan. 5, hehe <3

@urfriendlywriter

^tysm for the b-day prompts <3

[theefaggotamerica]

warning graphic jackingoff talk in the tags. tumbler dot com is a public diary.

[labradorite-princess]

I bitched so much I got what I wanted!

[spaceoutdreamer]

Pro-tip for my depressed kins, stay dehydrated ! That way no one will know you've been crying yourself to sleep for the past 3 days !

[youremyonlyhope]

Apparently I left my fridge cracked open. The whole day and evening. For over 14 total hours.

Great.

[cathnospam]

Adding onto this drabble of how Bakugo likes to stare at you, but with a bit a smutty..

CW: Bakugo is a pervert trynna fight it, Some fluff, Smut implied at end, Reader IS a pervert, Black Reader slightly Implied???

Bakugo has a bad staring problem.

He had a feeling you knew he knew that he would do more than just glance at you which is why you decided to sit next to him up until you all graduated high school and attended college.

Since UA made a new section of the school that is for the college students only the classrooms are different, no more desk but rows of seats, and means sitting even closer. Bakugo didn’t know if he should be pissed off or more excited.

Yes he sits closer, but now his staring would be evident. Turning almost a whole 180 just to get a good look of your side profile. And the thought of you catching him or anything saying about it makes him want to smack the shit out of Deku or Kami.

“Wanna study?”

Your voice was something else. So feminine and soft he practically tries to savor each sweet vowel ….as corny as it sounds….though he has overheard you speak negatively about it a few times. If he had a right mind he’d let you know how much serotonin your voice carries.

“Your grades that bad?”

“No, I aced the last exam with a 98%.”

Bakugo only got 95.

He tsks adjusting himself uncomfortably to get a better look at you. Of course you’re also smart to pair.

The study dates turned into a common practice, but instead of studying it’s be a movie marathon or going to eat some food together at a nearby restaurant.

And his eyes never cracked away from you.

Bakugo would watch you as you spoke, laughed, ate, even stared when you were just doing absolutely nothing, but tapping away on your phone.

He just does not know why he can’t stop, but he doesn’t care and you seem to not care much either.

By the third year before graduation you began to take note of him always looking at you. At some point you wanted to confirm your suspicions so you’d angle yourself a little more his direction to see him from your peripheral vision, and alas you were right. He always looks at you.

He starts from your legs, stops and admires your thighs, to your chest and lands his gaze on your face. You’ve became accustomed to it so much whenever you wear your braids, or locs, or whichever new hairstyle that week parted it’s be on the opposite side so he can still see your face.

It wasn’t weird though, his eyebrows were furrowed, but he looked so cute and relaxed. Plus, it didn’t hurt since..he was your little crush.

It has been 4 months now and Bakugo practically lives in your dorm. His spare clothes are in your drawers, his winter hero costume is beside yours in your closet, he even has some of his hygiene products in your bathroom when he spends the night.

It’s been a routine now; class together, after school lunch together, spar separately or hang out with friends separately but Bakugo comes to your room to take a shower and bring you both dinner.

This time though Bakugo came back from his work study a little later, which you didn’t mind, but you decided to order some dinner, your favorite and his and head to take a quick shower.

Bakugo actually had to catch himself from grinning at your text. He felt more motivated to finish his job quicker today and head back to you.

He missed you without realizing it.

After eating, you finally got up from mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and grabbing the takeout from the front , to take your shower. The hot water feels so nice on your body you forgot all your worries of today and Bakugo was just coming back to the dorms.

He unlocks your door with the spare key you gave him and hears the water running, he sees your phone unlocked in your bed with some video replaying on tiktok and he scoffs. Of course you’re just NOW getting in the shower. He wanted to take one.

Bakugo places his gauntlet and strips his uniform down to just his tank top and boxers on your semi filled hamper and wait. He did not feel like heading to the other side of the building to take a shower and head back. Too tired.

While eating the food you got him he finds the receipt you tossed and crumbled in the trash, and scoffs, “why does she do this..” he mumbled as he pulls out his phone to Apple Pay you back the difference, he doesn’t usually let your pay for anything when you’re with him even if you offer so it was practically second nature to him.

Laying back on your bed with a towel he starts up a show as he waits for you, and while looking at the TV he notices your bathroom door beside it opened.

Without thought he tilts his head almost like a confused dog to get a better view of the noises you’re making inside. Mindless humming, singing, and soft moans whenever you let the hot water touch the sensitive areas of your skin.

You sounded…so attractive.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he was back yet, he made enough noises and comments to himself loud enough, but you didn’t respond back. You didn’t even hear the TV playing. Were you really that careless?

Thank God your door was locked.

He kept quiet for a moment, muting the TV and ate in silence to hear the ambiance of your shower. Bakugo wasn’t really thinking at this point.

“K-Kats ~”

If Bakugo had dog ears one would be up right about now, he gets up and walks over to the doors. No way he heard you moan—-

“Katsuki~”

His name.

He had heard HIS name moan out of YOUR mouth.

It spilled out of your lips like honey, the soft heavy breaths, if he focused his hearing he could have heard your squelches your sex was spewing out from you little fingers.

Bakugo knew. He knew better. He always had pride he wasn’t a pervert like his friends.

Kaminari admitting he steals Jirou’s panties

Kiri sometimes watches Mina get dressed when he’s in her room

Even Sero sending pervy pictures to his long distance girlfriend at random hours of the day

Bakugo was BETTER than them, because he never did anything perverted with you.

But

He’s still a man at the end of the day.

“Katsuki…ah…”He slowly rises from the bed.

And he still has needs.

“Kats….”He peaks his head at the creaked bathroom door.

And he still had a staring problem.

[jungwnies]

scaring your f1 boyfriend | requested

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : jump-scaring your boyfriend LOL

୨ৎ : genre : humor ୨ৎ : tws : teasing, yelling, fluff, lots of jumpscares, mentions of scary themes ୨ৎ : word count : 3840

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : the max photo above is literally killing me i cant 😭

ʚ・max verstappen

max had just stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the stress of the day. the bathroom was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlight outside filtering through the small frosted window. you, meanwhile, had been sitting on the couch, bored out of your mind, until the perfect idea struck you.

with the stealth of a spy, you crept to the bathroom and flipped the light switch off. the room was immediately plunged into shadow, save for the faint moonlight that spilled through the window. you silently positioned yourself in front of the shower curtain, your heart racing with anticipation.

inside, max paused. "y/n? did the power go out?"

you stayed silent, fighting the urge to laugh.

"y/n?" his voice was louder this time, tinged with confusion. "hello?"

still, you said nothing.

there was a beat of silence, then the water stopped. you heard him shuffling around, probably grabbing a towel.

"did you forget to pay the electric bill or something?" he asked, his dry humor cutting through the quiet. "seriously, what’s going on? you can at least answer me, you know."

you didn’t move a muscle, standing perfectly still, a shadow among shadows.

"y/n, if you’re trying to mess with me, it’s not funny," he said, his voice closer now.

the shower curtain shifted slightly, and then it flew open. for a second, max didn’t register what he was seeing—the faint outline of a figure standing inches away from him, completely silent and unmoving.

"WHAT THE F—" he jumped back, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as he grabbed onto the shower rod for support.

"y/n!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as he stood there, towel in hand, glaring at you with wide eyes.

"oh my god," he muttered, his hand still on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "i actually thought i was about to get murdered in my own shower. do you know how ridiculous that is?"

"you should’ve seen your face!" you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks.

he stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. "you’re lucky i didn’t slip and die. imagine explaining that to everyone." his lips twitched, betraying the smallest hint of a smile.

"totally worth it," you managed between giggles.

he groaned, wrapping the towel around himself. "you’re insane, you know that?" he muttered as he walked past you.

"and you’re so easy to scare," you shot back, grinning.

as he left the bathroom, he called over his shoulder, "enjoy your victory, y/n. because next time, i’m getting you."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis had just wrapped up an exhausting day—a full schedule of training, meetings, and, of course, dodging paparazzi. as he entered the dimly lit bedroom, he was humming lightly to himself, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos you were orchestrating under the bed. you were lying in wait, suppressing giggles as you positioned yourself for the ultimate ankle grab.

he moved around the room with his usual grace, taking his time as he set his phone down on the nightstand and slipped off his jacket. "man, what a day," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his braids. oblivious to the brewing chaos below him, he leaned down to untie his sneakers. you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing—you were so close.

finally, he stood, stretching his arms with a relaxed sigh, and took a casual step toward the bed. now or never, you thought, and as soon as his foot came within reach, you shot your hand out and grabbed his ankle.

"OH SH—!" lewis screamed, leaping so high he looked like he was auditioning for a horror movie. he scrambled backward, nearly tripping over himself as his eyes darted around the room, wide with panic.

"NOPE. NO. NOT TODAY," he shouted, grabbing a pillow off the bed like it was a weapon. "WHO—WHAT IS THAT?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. rolling out from under the bed, you were already crying with laughter, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air.

"y/n?!" he blinked, realization dawning as his terror morphed into sheer disbelief. "nah, nah, nah. are you serious right now?! you’re the demon under the bed?!"

"your face! your scream!" you choked out between fits of laughter. "i didn’t know you had that kind of altitude! do they measure verticals in f1?"

he stood there, hands on his hips, still holding the pillow like a shield. "first of all, don’t test me. i thought i was about to get dragged to hell. second of all, i will sue you for emotional damages."

"oh, come on," you teased, finally sitting up. "you’re a seven-time world champion, but a little ankle grab gets you?"

"don’t even start," he said, his voice shaking with residual laughter as he tried to regain his composure. "i thought i was about to throw hands with a ghost or something!"

"worth it," you grinned, dodging the pillow he threw at you as he finally shook his head, laughing.

ʚ・george russell

it was 3am, and george woke up to what he thought was the faint sound of your voice calling his name. groggy and slightly disoriented, he sat up in bed, glancing over—only to find your side empty.

“y/n?” he called softly, but there was no response.

with a sigh, he swung his legs over the bed and got up, rubbing the back of his neck. the house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made every little sound feel amplified.

he stepped out into the dark hallway, the faint moonlight from a nearby window barely illuminating the path ahead. “y/n?” he called again, his voice a bit louder this time.

then he saw them.

at the far end of the hallway stood two small figures wrapped in identical blankets, their faces barely visible in the dim light. they were completely still, their heads slightly tilted to the side in perfect synchronization.

george froze, his breath catching in his throat. “what... the hell?”

he squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. his heart started to pound as one of them took a tiny, almost imperceptible step forward.

“y/n, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he was definitely spooked.

then, in perfect unison, your twin cousins whispered, “come play with us...”

that was it. george practically stumbled backward, his hand slamming into the wall for support. “oh, NO. absolutely NOT.”

he turned on his heel and bolted back toward the bedroom, muttering under his breath, “nope, nope, nope. i didn’t sign up for this. i date you, not some stephen king horror scene.”

you, of course, were hiding just out of sight, trying your hardest not to laugh as you watched the whole thing unfold.

george made it back to the bedroom, his nerves still shot. he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair and muttering, “this is why i don’t watch horror movies…”

just as he started to relax, he looked up—and there you were, standing completely still in the doorway, wrapped in your own blanket, your face partially obscured by the shadows.

"oh, for—NOPE!" he yelped, scrambling backward on the bed like a man who had just seen his worst nightmare materialize. "y/n, what the actual—how are you everywhere right now?!"

you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, flipping on the lights as tears streamed down your face. “oh my god, george, you’re too easy!”

his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, and that’s when he noticed your cousins peeking into the room behind you, still eerily in sync, still in their matching blankets.

he groaned, rubbing his temples. “y/n, it’s three in the morning. i genuinely thought i was about to get haunted by some creepy twins.”

“but you weren’t,” you teased. “just my cousins. aren’t they great actors?”

the twins gave him a little wave, their innocent smiles betraying none of the chaos they’d just caused. george blinked, staring at them, then at you. “your cousins?! so, you planned all of this?”

“yep,” you said proudly, walking over to sit beside him. “they nailed it, didn’t they?”

“nailed it?” george repeated, still clutching his chest. “y/n, i thought i was about to die. do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up at 3am and see that at the end of a hallway?”

you couldn’t stop laughing as he continued his rant. “honestly, you’re lucky i didn’t faint. or worse—trip and break something.”

“but you didn’t,” you teased, nudging him.

he sighed dramatically, finally flopping back onto the bed. “if this is the kind of chaos i’m signing up for with you, i’m going to need to start sleeping with a nightlight.”

you grinned, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “you love it.”

he groaned but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “remind me to check for tiny people in blankets before leaving bed at 3am from now on.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those mornings where carlos was running a little behind, juggling work and trying to get out the door as quickly as possible. he hopped into his car, mind already on the busy day ahead. he tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and zoomed off toward the office, not noticing that you were quietly hiding in the backseat.

you’d sneaked into the car earlier when he was distracted, hiding behind the seats and waiting for the perfect moment to scare him.

as carlos drove through the city, his thoughts were consumed with meetings, deadlines, and that one email he needed to send. he hummed along to the radio, completely oblivious to the fact that you were crouched behind him, practically holding your breath.

when he finally pulled into the parking lot at his office, he parked the car and got out, walking around to the back to grab his jacket. you could feel the excitement building up. now, it was showtime.

as soon as carlos opened the back door and turned his back to grab his jacket, you slowly sat up and leaned forward. you had just the right angle to pop your head into his line of sight.

“you forgot something,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

carlos froze. his eyes widened, his whole body went stiff, and before he could even process what was going on, he screamed, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

"¡ME CAGO EN LA P...!" he shouted, his heart racing as his body jerked back. "¡QUÉ COÑO ES ESO?" ("I shit myself!" "What the hell is that?!)

his hands shot up as if he was ready to defend himself, but he just stood there in complete shock, looking at you in the back seat.

after a few seconds of complete silence, he finally found his voice. "y/n, WHAT THE HELL?!"

you were barely holding back your laughter, completely enjoying the chaos you’d caused. “i got you good, huh?”

"cabron!" he cursed, still catching his breath as he tried to steady himself. (jerk!) “why the hell would you do that?!”

you stepped out of the car, still laughing. “i couldn’t resist!”

“seriously, you scared the life out of me,” he said, shaking his head and trying to calm down. he took a deep breath, his voice finally switching back to english. “you know, one of these days, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love it,” you teased with a grin.

“yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing his chest where his heart was still pounding. “next time, you better believe i’m checking the back seat before i even get in the car.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, still smiling from ear to ear.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was live on twitch, fully engrossed in a high-stakes sim racing session. he had his headphones on, occasionally glancing at the chat to answer questions or laugh at their antics. what he didn’t know was that you, his girlfriend, were plotting a masterpiece of chaos behind the scenes.

armed with some impressively dark body paint, you transformed yourself into a shadowy figure, blending almost perfectly into the darkness behind his gaming chair. the setup was perfect—his room was dimly lit, with just the glow of his monitors keeping things visible. you slipped quietly into position behind him, crouched low, and waited.

his chat was quick to notice something off.

chat: "charles there’s someone behind you 😳" "bro wtf is that in the back" "TURN AROUND CHARLES."

but charles just chuckled. "guys, stop trying to scare me. i know y/n isn’t here, she’s downstairs."

you bit your lip to suppress a laugh as the chat erupted with frantic messages. then, it was time to strike. you let out a low, guttural growl, something straight out of a horror movie.

charles froze mid-turn. "uh—what was that?" he muttered, glancing around nervously.

"it’s probably the wind," he said, but his voice wavered.

he finally spun around in his chair, squinting into the shadows. at first, he didn’t see anything—just darkness. but then, he grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight.

"chat, you’re being ridiculous, there’s no one here—"

and that’s when he saw you.

painted in a deep, almost pitch-black shade, you stared back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. the flashlight beam caught your eerie silhouette, and he let out the most high-pitched scream you’d ever heard.

"MON DIEU!" he shouted, nearly falling out of his chair as his chat went wild with laughter and messages like "💀💀💀" and "i can’t breathe."

you burst out laughing, standing up to reveal the full extent of your paint job. "surprise!"

"y/n, WHAT IS THIS?" he exclaimed, clutching his chest. "i thought you were a ghost! or a demon!"

his chat was absolutely losing it.

"she’s a menace omg." "y/n deserves an oscar for this." "never trusting the dark again."

charles glared at you, though his lips twitched in amusement. "you are unbelievable. i will get you back for this, i promise."

"worth it," you said with a grin, blowing him a kiss.

the clip went viral, and for weeks, his fans teased him about his "ghost girlfriend." meanwhile, you were already planning your next prank.

ʚ・lando norris

lando was sprawled on the couch, his attention fully on the game in front of him. his fingers moved rapidly over the controller, the sound of the game providing a steady backdrop to his intense focus. you had been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and now was your chance.

earlier, you had picked up a realistic fake cockroach, the kind that would easily fool anyone into thinking it was real. with it in hand, you silently crept toward lando as he was deeply engrossed in his game, completely unaware of the chaos about to unfold.

you waited until he leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, and then you placed the cockroach right on his lap. you quickly backed away, staying just out of sight, holding your breath, waiting for his reaction.

it didn’t take long.

lando, completely unaware at first, shifted in his seat, and then his eyes widened when he glanced down and saw the cockroach. for a moment, he froze, his brain taking a second to process what was happening. and then, in true lando fashion, his reaction was absolutely priceless.

“what the hell?!” he yelped, jumping off the couch like he’d just been electrocuted. the controller flew from his hands, landing with a loud clunk on the floor. he stepped back, looking down at his lap like the cockroach was some kind of ticking time bomb.

“oh my god!” he shouted, his voice higher than usual as he stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the floor. “y/n!! what the actual hell?!”

you were already standing by the door, biting your lip, trying to keep from bursting out laughing at his reaction.

“i—uh, i just thought you might want to meet a new friend,” you said, grinning as you stepped into the room.

lando’s face had gone from absolute panic to an exaggerated glare. “no! that was not funny. you’re a menace!” he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his heart was still racing. “i thought i was about to die. i can’t believe you did that to me.”

you were laughing at this point, absolutely loving how freaked out he was. “you’re so dramatic,” you teased, holding up the fake cockroach. “it’s just a toy, lando.”

he stared at you like you were insane. “you know i’m terrified of bugs, and you still thought this was a good idea?” he rubbed his face in exasperation, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lips. “i swear, i’m going to get you back for this.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, still grinning. “you’re so lucky i didn’t make it real.”

lando shot you a side-eye. “next time, i’m locking the door. and you’re not getting anywhere near me with anything that crawls.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you had been eyeing that haunted doll on ebay for weeks. the description was too good to pass up: “genuine haunted doll, spiritual energy present, handle with care.” it was perfect for a prank, and you knew oscar would hate it. he was already freaked out by anything remotely supernatural, so you were just dying to get your hands on this doll. when it finally arrived in the mail, you couldn’t wait to start your little game.

of course, oscar had warned you that buying a haunted doll was a terrible idea. “don’t you dare bring that thing into our house,” he had said, his face scrunched in worry. “it’s bad enough that you already watch ghost shows. why do you need an actual haunted doll?”

you grinned mischievously, already planning your moves. “it’ll be fine, oscar. i’m sure it’s just a bunch of fake stories.”

he didn’t look convinced, but as usual, you went ahead with your plan. the night after the doll arrived, you decided it was time to mess with him. you placed the doll in the living room chair, its beady little eyes staring blankly ahead. in the dead of night, you casually walked past, dropping it on the floor, facing a different direction.

by the time oscar woke up the next morning, he was already uneasy. he noticed the doll on the floor in the living room, but he shrugged it off—until it happened again.

the next night, you quietly slipped the doll onto the bed, positioning it so that its lifeless gaze met his when he opened his eyes in the morning. as expected, he jumped back when he saw it, groaning loudly, "y/n, come on! this isn't funny anymore!"

"i swear, oscar, i don’t know how it got there," you said, acting all innocent, trying not to burst out laughing. "maybe you moved it?"

he glared at you. "no, i didn’t. i know you’re messing with me."

but it wasn’t over. you kept sneaking the doll into different spots: the bathroom counter, the kitchen table, the shower. he would get startled each time, becoming more and more agitated. you kept up the act, pretending to be clueless, like the doll was really just showing up on its own.

that night, though, something strange happened.

as you were lying in bed, just drifting off to sleep, you heard something faint. a soft scraping sound. it was so quiet, you thought it was just your imagination. but then, you heard it again—a slight, dragging noise, coming from the living room.

oscar shifted beside you, his eyes wide. "did you hear that?" he whispered.

you stayed still, listening, trying to figure out if it was just the house settling. but then it happened again, louder this time. a small creak of wood. it sounded like… steps.

oscar was now wide awake, heart racing. “please tell me that’s not the doll.” he whispered, voice shaking.

you swallowed hard, your earlier bravado fading. “it couldn’t be.”

both of you slowly got up, creeping into the living room. as you approached, the doll was sitting in the chair again—but its head was turned toward the door. the same direction you and oscar had just come from. you froze, your stomach dropping.

oscar's voice was barely a whisper. “nope. i’m done. this is actually haunted.”

you could barely breathe as you stepped closer, but something felt off. something wasn’t right.

and then, in an instant, the doll’s head jerked to the side. a loud creak echoed through the room as it turned to face both of you fully.

oscar went pale, his voice cracking. “y/n… i think your little prank backfired.”

before you could react, oscar practically bolted for the door, yelling, "i’m not sleeping here tonight! i’ll take my chances with the cold!"

you stood there, dumbfounded, looking between him and the doll. your heart raced as you realized you had been pranking yourself just as much as him.

“uh, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, stepping backward. “maybe we should call it quits on this haunted doll thing.”

but oscar didn’t even hear you. he was already out the door and halfway down the hallway. all you could do was look at the doll, now facing the front door with a strangely satisfied expression.

“looks like you got me back,” you sighed, glancing at the doll’s unblinking eyes.

and for the first time since buying it, you had second thoughts about having it around at all.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the dread creeping up your spine. oscar’s panicked face flashed in your mind, and you realized you’d gone way too far.

you looked at the doll, still in the chair, and muttered to yourself, “i think i’m calling someone tomorrow.”

oscar, hearing your voice behind him, turned back toward you from the hallway. “what?”

“i’m calling someone who deals with these haunted… things,” you said, crossing your arms and trying to look confident despite the unease settling in your chest. “someone who knows how to get rid of it without… angering it, or whatever.”

oscar stared at you for a moment before his eyes widened. “you’re seriously going to call someone? now?”

“i don’t think this is a joke anymore, oscar,” you replied, glancing back at the doll. “i’m getting rid of it tomorrow. trust me. i’ll handle it.”

oscar didn’t look convinced, but his relief was palpable. “good,” he muttered. “i’m sleeping at a hotel tonight.”

you watched him disappear down the hall, before turning back to the doll. “guess we’ve both learned our lesson, huh?” you said quietly, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

tomorrow, you’d be dealing with the haunted doll… but for tonight, you figured it was better to stay far, far away.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[gojosprettyprincess]

THAT GIRL IS...POISON!!!

Overstimulation, slight somno, Not proofread

A/n - hello! I know I haven’t been posting that much recently because I’m on a small tumblr break but I still decided to schedule this post so I hope everyone enjoys it!

˖ ⊹ ﾟ｡ ✧

Sweetheart—hahh fuck! Don’t you think you’re going too ngh-fast, Ohh fuckkk!” His moans escaped in a mixture of desperation and pleasure, his voice husky and filled with desire as he struggled to maintain his hold on your waist in an attempt to steady himself properly—Fuck, Satoru felt so lightheaded and dizzy, his thighs trembled as he weakly tried to recover from his pasting orgasms which was the…third one?? In a row.

It wasn’t really your intention for it to be this way. Dealing with difficult coworkers all day was challenging enough, but having to cover a shift last minute because of someone else's absence made things even tougher for you. So least to say when you finally came home from work you were sooo frustrated and had to let off some steam and you don’t know what, but something came over you seeing your pretty boyfriend, shirtless with his grey sweatpants hanging low by his hips, revealing a glimpse of his mouth-watering happy trail and v line in the kitchen cooking dinner for the two of you. It’s like it triggered something inside of your brain.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him on the living room couch, his snowy-white hair tickling his forehead, damped with sweat as he gazed up at you with half-lidden eyes in a mixture of exhaustion and desire. His sticky cum from the last three rounds marinating inside your cunt as you continued milking him for the forth, sure your thighs were quivering and aching but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming amount of pleasure you got from fucking your boyfriend like this. Your feet gently rested on his toned thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock, trying to cum once again and get him as stimulated as possible.

His jaw fell slack and his eyes rolled back repeatedly in sheer ecstasy at the lewd sight of you fucking down at him like this—sure Satoru loved being in control and fucking you absolutely stupid as you drooled and cried into his expensive bed sheets while he pounds your sloppy little cunt from behind but there’s just something about seeing his feisty, persistent little girlfriend being so demanding and treating him like your personal toy to fuck yourself on made him lose his mind. He loved it so so much.

He enjoys being your dildo to cream on—even if he’s on the verge of literal tears right now from the overstimulation of you bouncing your ass on his twitching, overused cock. he didn’t even had the power to try and get you off from his oversensitive dick—all he could do is lie there and take it. You won’t lie, you carried a lot of pride in having the strongest a whimpering and moaning mess alll because of you.

“Babyyy, Goddd! you’re so fucking crazy” his voice cracked as he flashed a fucked out smile at you as you ran your fingertips along the defined ridges of his abs before trailing them upwards to his chest—feeling every bit of muscle from his body that you could possibly reach. “You look so shit!- fucking beautiful”.

“Yeahhh? Oh you look so pretty like this too toruuu” you cooed, his cock was filling you up so well, just the way you wanted. You raked your hand over his chest, groping it before you accidentally did something. Which made his cock jump inside of you, throbbing and pulsating—you felt it and it made you questioned, why you never thought about it before?

“Whatthefuck—Holy shitt nghh” he groaned out, a lump forming in his throat.

You pinched both of his nipples, twisting and toying with the hardened bud before he lets out a high-pitched whine, his ragged breaths quickening as he came, spilling whatever bit of cum was left inside his balls into your already stuffed and leaking pussy, the action catching you off guard, causing your back arched slightly, the overwhelming pleasure consumed you as your rhythm got sloppy. You quickly chased your high following him—his gooey cum coating your sensitive clit and dripping down all over his balls and sheets as his balls throbbed with his release, his seed getting fucked so deep inside you as you continued bouncing on him.

His pretty pathetic whimpers and moans were like music to your ears, you were actually starting to feel bad but you were soo desperate to cum, you had to—even if you already did it about four times. It felt so fucking good and seeing Satoru like this made you even hornier.

You moved your hand down to rub your clit, feeling the intense pleasure building up as three of your fingers carefully circled the sensitive bundle of nerves as Satoru weakly looked up at you, if it wasn’t for his bright ass blue eyes peaking out faintly, you wouldn’t have even noticed. He had no power or energy to do anything, it’s like your pussy snatched his soul from his body and he’s just laying there lifeless but with his cock still throbbing with need and joy.

“Mmm fuck baby, M’ gonna cum on your cock again, gonna make a creamy little mess on you toru” you moaned out, your head falling back as you squeezed a handful of your bouncing tits, he whines eagerly at your exclamations. The pit of your stomach flutters as you came undone on your boyfriend's cock once again, your juices leaking all around his shaft as your pussy squeezes around him like a vice, at this point, Satoru’s cheeks were so flushed and feverish.

Your body collapsed onto his with his cock still nested and marinating in your warm, cum-filled pussy as you brushed the stands of stray hairs that veiled his eyes before planting a sweet, gentle kiss on his forehead. There for no doubt that Satoru wasn’t asleep right now, you could just tell from his breathing patterns and it was sooo adorable to you.

Maybe you’ll give him some time to wake up before round five orrr was it six? starts again.

[monzamash]

★ last chance; long live the inbox graveyard! —i pick a long forgotten request in my inbox and write a short blurb or musings

hot tub time machine lando norris x you —no warnings, just fluff "could we get a number 14 (pool/hot tub sex) with lando pleaseeee? so excited that you’re writing again!!" —requested by anon on october 8th, 2024

“happy birthday, sweetheart...”

“i really needed this," he sighed, "knowing i would be home with you for this was the only thing getting me through the last few of weeks.”

lando could feel every single ache and pain wash away as he slid into the hot tub, stomach full of the gorgeous italian spread you’d ordered for dinner. his favourite. he swore you were an angel sent to earth, everything you did for him was heavenly, he could never find the words to tell you how much he loved you.

“you look so happy lan,” you smiled, dropping the kimono you’d worn during dinner as lando’s eyes cast across your body, luring you into the tub.

“i’m very happy - especially when i get to enjoy all of this… c’mere pretty girl.”

a soft giggle slipped from your lips as you grasped his hand, "let me get a bottle of red wine for us to share and i'll join you — do you wanna open the one daniel gave you?"

"ooo, are we entering that portion of the night?" lando asked suggestively as you stood up, shooting him quizzical look.

"what do you mean?" you asked earning a loud laugh from the tub, water splashing a little as lando pulled himself up to the edge, smiling over at you with a look you knew all too well.

"as soon as you start on the red wine, you get so frisky," he stated as if it was a well-known fact, one that you certainly weren't aware of.

"i do not!" you staunchly defended, earning another loud scoff.

"oh, wow," lando laughed, "yes, you do baby and i'm not complaining so crack her open..." he teased as you carefully stepped into the tub, with lando's help of course, eyes still narrowed in annoyance.

"okay so maybe wine makes me a little more amorous than usual but i think i'm just like that when i drink, no?" you pouted, earning yourself a pity kiss from the birthday boy.

"red wine makes you horny and that's okay," he teased again with a cheeky smirk on his face as you handed him the stemmed glass, "ta."

"we'll see then, won't we," you tutted, pouring two glasses of wine while lando chuckled to himself.

"i already know what's gonna happen but sure," he baited with a wink as he slowly dunked his head under the water and emerged with a shake of his wild curls, sending water flying across the room and all over you.

"you are so sure of yourself tonight."

lando's eyes skimmed across your body briefly while you claw-clipped your hair up, not wanting the hassle of having to dry it before going to bed. secretly you knew where the night was headed, red wine or not— it was his birthday after all, but you weren't about to admit that to the man hypnotised by your every move, jaw slack from the glorious view of your cleavage.

lando was a simple man.

"well, i am the birthday boy after all so i reserve the right to be cocky once a year, yeah?" he taunted from the other side of the tub.

"yeah, only once a year..." you rolled your eyes humorously.

the distance between the two of you seemed too far for lando, so he sculled the rest of his drink and carefully placed the glass on the floor before giving you a mischievous smile.

"steady on, party boy," you chuckled as he leaned forward and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm hold.

"i just want to focus all of my attention on you," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your clip, his emerald irises darted over your face, finally resting on yours.

"i missed you a lot, you know."

you took that as an invitation to straddle his lap and rest your elbows over his shoulders, wine glass dangling from your fingers. lando smoothed his hands down your back and and pressed fiery kisses across your chest. his lips travelled back up your neck, along your jaw before finding your soft lips in a slow, passionate kiss. you moved in sync with him, bringing one of your hands up to trawl through his wet, tangled curls. the chlorine always got the best of them.

lando hummed quietly into the kiss before pulling back slightly, "this is the best birthday i've ever had... and i couldn't be more in love with you," he confessed as you took the chance to admire the sweet boy you'd chosen to share your life with.

you grasped his face gently between your hands and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, making sure he knew just how much you loved him, no matter what life threw your way.

"i love you too, darling... happy birthday."

a/n — the first of the end of (f1) season sale!! this hot tub request actually wasn't forgotten, just half-baked so thank you anon for sparking up the inspiration to finally finish it! hope you enjoyed it 😌

[classyrbf]

CALL HIM DADDY! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...when you jokingly call the jjk men ‘daddy’ just to see how they’d react

INFO...jjk men (toji, nanami, geto, gojo) x fem!reader, suggestive, fluff, crack fic kinda, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

You were washing the dishes, finally scrubbing the last plate as Toji at his snack on the couch. You turned the faucet off, shaking the excess water into the sink before you turned to Toji, a smirk forming on your face. The entire time you were washing dishes, you remember seeing a video where a girl pranked her boyfriend by calling him ‘daddy’ in the most casual way possible.

You cleared your throat, leaning against the sink. “Hey, daddy, can you pass a napkin to dry my hands?” You stared at him, waiting to see his reaction.

“Yeah, of course, ba—wait what the hell did you just say?” His brows pinched together as he stood from his spot on the couch. He slowly walked over to you, placing his snack on the countertop.

“I asked if you could pass me a napkin,” you repeat.

“Nah, nah,” he shook his head, “you said something else before that.” He narrowed his eyes at you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

It was getting hard to keep a poker face, finding it difficult to stare into his eyes. “What are you talking about, Toji?” You sighed. “You’re hearing things, old man,” you scoffed, turning away from him with a smirk on your face.

“Oh, so now I’m old man, huh? Not daddy? Hm? Hm?” He grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer to him to the point you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“It was a prank!” You laughed, tears in your eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman. I swear.” He pecked your lips, smiling at you. “Though, I think we should try that in the bedroom.”

“Toji Fushiguro!” You yell as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you to the room.

GOJO

You and Gojo were so casually getting ready to watch a movie before he asked if you wanted any snacks from the kitchen. “Yes, please, some chips and soda.” You gave him a tender smile. A few minutes went by as he came back with a bunch of snacks you didn’t even ask for, but you knew they were most likely for him.

“Your chips and soda.” He placed the bowl in your lap and the cup in your hand. “Want any candy?” He asked, pointing to the sour strips he was munching on.

“I’m okay, thank you, daddy,” You causally said before placing a chip in your mouth.

His eyes shot up in surprise before he began choking on the sour strip. “O-oh, my god.” He began coughing, hunching over.

“Satoru, are you okay?” You rubbed his back before he turned to look at your with the most shocked expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Am I okay? Baby, you literally just called me daddy! Damn near lost my life!” His voice was still rough from all the coughing.

“What?” You asked, pretending to be confused.

“You….just…called…me…daddy.” He leaned closer towards you with each word spoken.

“Toru, I love you, but never in a million years would I call you that. Play the movie.” You shake your head in disbelief, looking towards the the tv.

“Say it again.” Toru grabbed at your hands, holding them to his chest. “Say it again, please!” He begged while you ignored him, continuing to eat your chips. “You think I’m daddy? Am I? Come on, baby. I can be so daddy!”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how serious he was taking the whole situation. Your eyes landed upon his expression, an offended look in his eye. “I’m sorry, Toru!” You cackled.

“You’re not funny,” he mumbled, turning away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Awe, baby,” you coo, cupping his face and kissing his cheek, “you’re so daddy, okay?”

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Promise?”

“Yes,” you giggle, “promise.”

NANAMI

You were getting ready for bed as Nanami read his book in the living room with the light dimmed. He had his reading glasses on, so focused on the words on the page before you walked over to him. “Going to bed?” He looked up from his book.

“Yeah,” you yawned, nodding your head.

“Well, alright. Goodnight, I love you.” He returns your kiss when you lean down to peck his lips.

“I love you too, daddy.” You smile, walking towards the bedroom. He goes back to reading his book, adjusting his glasses as he reads the next few lines on the page. Suddenly, he places the book on his lap and looks around the room. Nanami quickly gets up and follows you to the room, seeing that you’re already under the blankets.

“Honey?” He whispers.

“Yes, Kento?” You open your eyes to find him standing in the doorway.

“What did you say in the living room a few seconds ago?” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I love you?” You say, raising a brow.

“Yeah, that’s what, uh, I thought.” He bites the inside of his cheek, adjusting his glasses once more. “You sure that was all?” He furrows his brows.

“Yes, Kento, I’m sure.” You let out a tired sigh before turning over in the bed, pulling the covers over your face. “Goodnight, daddy.” You cover your mouth with your hand in attempts to hide your laughter.

You feel the bed sink beneath you, his hand coming up to pull the blanket from your face. “I don’t mind you calling me daddy, but please, don’t try and hide it. If you’d like to try something new just let me—”

“Ken, baby, it was a prank!” You sit up in bed, laughing. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You hug him, kissing his cheek. “You thought I was being serious?”

“Well…yeah.” He blinks, cheeks flushed a light pink. “I…kinda like it,” he admits.

“Oh!” You say, slightly shocked. “I’ll keep that noted.”

GETO

You were getting ready to leave to the mall, grabbing your keys and slipping your shoes on at the front door. Geto walked over to say goodbye, grabbing at your hand. You kissed him quickly before saying, “bye, daddy.” You tried to rush out the door.

“Bye, mommy.” You quickly turned your head with a look of shock. Geto returned your expression, still holding your hand. “What?”

“What’d you just call me?” You shut the door, locking it.

“I didn’t say a word.” He shook his head at you. “You’re the one who said something.”

“No, no, don’t turn this around on me, Suguru Geto!” Your jaw dropped.

“You’re the one who called me daddy!” He retorted.

“Not even!” You quickly snap back.

“Yes, huh! Mommy!” He yelled, laughing at you.

“Not, uh! Daddy!” You shouted back at him before both you began laughing with each other. “You’re no fun, I was trying to prank you.” You pout.

“Can’t prank me, love.” He kissed the top of your head, slightly chuckling. “Have fun at the mall, m’kay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love you.”

“I love you too, mommy!” He joking says as you shut the door his face.