#and i thought of this and thought it was just so precious

[l1tw1ck]

Till Debt Do You Part

Bottom!FTM Ajax x Top!FTM!Harbinger Reader

+ FTM voyeur Pantalone

🌊 Word Count: 1,709 🌊

Ajax pays off his debt to Pantalone by giving you his body

AFAB Language Used | Reader (He/Him) has bottom + top surgery

CW: Non-Con/Coercion, Size Difference, Voyeurism, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Masochism, Asphyxiation, Belly Bulge, Creampie

Pantalone purposefully omitted the fact that Ajax will have to pay Pantalone in return for the money he borrows from him. He's so naïve that he didn't even think to ask. Now, Ajax has finally racked up enough debt to allow Pantalone's repayment plan to go into effect.

The poor harbinger steps into Pantalone's room, completely unaware of what's about to happen.

"Tartaglia, you haven't been paying me back lately." Pantalone says, leaning against his desk. "Do you know how much you owe?"

"Pay you back? You- you didn't say I had to.."

"Is it not a given that you must return what you borrow from someone?" Pantalone tilts his head.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know."

Pantalone chuckles and brushes the hair out of Ajax’s face. "It's okay, you can pay it back with your body."

"My body? Like fighting?" Ajax perks up, happy to hear that he might be fighting even more.

"No, I mean intercourse." Pantalone smirks.

Ajax frowns. "But I've never...Is this my only option?"

Pantalone wants nothing more than to see Ajax become ruined.

"Yes."

"..Fine." He sighs. "Are you going to have me do it with the soldiers..?"

"Of course not, you're too precious. And what would I gain from that? My trusty colleague will be the one to have you." Pantalone smiles. "I owe [Name] a great debt, funnily enough.” He originally wanted to use Ajax himself but once you came back to Snezhnaya and met him, you got Pantalone to pay off the debt he owes you by giving you Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia should feel relieved but he doesn't. You're scary, and by his standards that really means something, and around the same size as Pierro and Capitano. For you to be his first time…

"[Name] bought you something special." Pantalone says, turning around to open his desk drawer. He takes out a human sized collar. "Isn't it cute? It suits you." He walks behind Ajax and puts the collar on for him. It feels strangely intimate.

"I…I guess..” He touches the name tag. It’s fitting, everyone calls him the loyal but rabid dog of Snezhnaya.

Pantalone places his hands on Ajax’s shoulders and leans into his ear. “He’s waiting for you in his room. Make sure to be a good boy.”

Pantalone enters the room with Ajax in front of him him. He looks like a cold puppy. You chuckle. “I was right. The collar does look good on you.” You walk towards him. “We haven't had many opportunities to interact, have we?” You rub his cheek with your thumb.

“N- no, sir..”

“He's a virgin, you know.” Pantalone smiles.

“Is that so?” You turn around and sit down on your bed. “You wouldn't mind helping him learn the ropes, would you?” You begin freeing your cock.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Pantalone makes Ajax walk towards you. “C’mon, kneel.” He kneels in between your legs, Pantalone kneeling next to him. He guides Ajax’s hand to your length. He’s in shock by your size. He glances at your chest as you remove your shirt, then at your arm. Custom made. It definitely suits your build, despite its outrageous size.

“Now, lick it.”

Ajax frowns and nervously darts his tongue out, licking your length. It doesn't feel or taste as bad as he thought. He glances up at you for a moment before looking back at your cock.

"Try to put it in your mouth." Pantalone gently touches Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia gulps and opens his mouth, trying to take it all in at once. It reminds you and Pantalone of a certain pink video game character. He gags when your dick hits the back of his throat.

"Just start with the tip, puppy." You chuckle softly. He gets more red and does as he says, wrapping his lips around the head of your cock.

"Pretend it's a...popsicle." Pantalone brushes Ajax’s hair from his face. He starts bobbing his head up and down while looking at Pantalone for approval.

"This is how you eat popsicles?" You groan in pleasure, gently wrapping your hand around the back of Ajax’s head. "How cute." You run your hands through his ginger hair, admiring his charm.

“Isn’t he?” Pantalone carefully snips off Ajax’s shirt. “Don't worry, you won't have to pay me back for your clothes.” He says, knowing exactly what the ginger is thinking. He starts to grope the rookie’s breasts with his elegant fingers. “You're surprisingly soft.” He hums.

He’s extremely embarrassed but he keeps going. Once he starts something, he's determined to see it through. Even if it's something like this.

“You're making me impatient with those words, Pantalone.”

Pantalone giggles softly as he unbuttons the ginger’s pants, then reaches over to slide his hand inside. “Every meal deserves to be savored.” Ajax’s t-dick gets a cold hug from Pantalone’s slender fingers.

Ajax moans and stops.

Pantalone uses his other hand to spank Ajax. “Nobody told you to stop, sweetheart.”

Ajax does his best to keep going despite how sensitive his body is. “Mmh!” His eyelashes flutter beautifully.

“There you go.” Pantalone purrs, sliding his digits into the ginger’s entrance. “Good boy, all nice and wet for your master.”

Ajax’s ears redden. He looks up at you and the redness travels to his cheeks, a shudder down his spine from how turned on you look. You look, and feel, so aroused and the fact that it's his fault is causing so much internal conflict. It's not bad if he likes this, right? You want him to feel good too, don't you? He adjusts his pace, filled with motivation to please you.

Your groans of pleasure are starting to become music to his freckled ears. You grab a fistful of his hair and keep him still. Ajax’s confusion disappears once he feels your seed filling his mouth. He closes his eyes and swallows it all up. As your hand drags him back, his tongue gives your tip one final lick, a string of cum dripping onto his chest.

“Is that it?” He asks.

“Of course not. Do you know how much you owe?” Pantalone chuckles and helps Ajax stand up. “You’ll be doing this for a very long time, rookie.”

“That's right.” You wrap your arms around Ajax’s torso and pull him onto your lap. “A couple years at least.” Your mouth latches onto one of his nipples.

Ajax throws his head back and moans. A couple years of this sounds like a good deal. Your hands travel around his body, feeling up every inch of him, before landing on his ass. You gently grope him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Pantalone asks, groping the ginger’s unattended breast. Ajax nods. “Say it.”

“I like– I like it~” He shivers as your cock comes back to life and happily leaks pre cum onto his stomach. You pull away, now he can really see your cock again. He stares at it with hearts in his eyes.

“See that, rookie? That's how deep he’ll be inside you.” Pantalone makes a line with his finger over the tip of your cock. “He's gonna fill you up, right to the brim.”

Ajax moans. You get up, holding him up as you do, and lay him down on the bed. You remove the rest of his clothing as Pantalone sits next to him on the bed.

The banker gently runs his fingers through Ajax’s hair, comforting him as you take his virginity.

“Mm-” He grips the bedsheets. Pantalone licks his lips, watching a bulge appear in Ajax’s stomach. Ajax slightly arches his back. “Big–”

“It hurts?” Pantalone asks. It's obvious from his tone of voice that it turns him on rather than worries him. “Don't worry, rookie..” He kisses Ajax’s forehead, his hand trailing down to grope his tits.

Ajax moans.

“I think he likes that it hurts, Regrator.” You notice a subtle change in the ginger’s expression.

“Is that true, cutie?” Pantalone coos.

“Mhm~” He mewls at the feeling of his nipple getting pinched.

“How about this?” Pantalone squeezes Ajax’s neck, the tag on his collar resting on top of his fingers. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“I think you should suffocate him with something else.” You wink at the regrator.

“Yeah? What do you think, rookie? You want me to sit on your face?”

Ajax shivers and softly nods. Pantalone smiles and starts removing his clothes. Ajax stares at his superior with curiosity. He's never really thought about it, but looking at him now, Pantalone is definitely his type. Ajax scans his body as the older man adjusts his position, from his hardened pink nipples to the scars beneath his chest and to the trimmed black hair hiding his undoubtedly beautiful pussy. Ajax’s gaze remains fixed on him as he opens his mouth, more than happy to be suffocated by it.

Once you stop moving, Ajax can tell you're completely inside. It still hurts but he doesn't want to wait until it stops. You're on the same page as him and start fucking him.

Pantalone slowly grinds on Ajax’s face, twitching with pleasure from the vibrations of Ajax’s moans. The bed creaks as your thrusts become rougher. You praise him as your hand trails over to his t-dick, making sure he knows how much you appreciate his soft, wet pussy. His body shakes violently as he squirts.

Pantalone feels his own orgasm approaching as he watches Ajax’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He doesn't stop licking the older man’s cunt even as he starts to become overwhelmed and lightheaded. He didn't think sex could feel this good.

“Yes~ like that, Ajax~” Pantalone lets out an airy moan. He slides his fingers through his ginger curls. “Good boy…taking us so well..”

“We should've hired you for this instead of combat. You won't mind if I take him on a ‘vacation’ from work, would you, Regrator?”

“As long as you let me join from time to time.” He puts all his weight on Ajax’s face as he squirts, his slick sliding down his face.

“Of course.” Your orgasm quickly follows Pantalone’s, your seed pumping him full. You watch Pantalone get up and look to see if Ajax is still conscious.

“So good..” He mumbles before passing out with a smile on his face.

[dollbrbie]

yoichi isagi ʚ ɞ your first time with him

💌 : smut mdni , fratboy isagi , soft sex

♡ fratboy isagi masterlist

the first time you and isagi had sex was months down the line after getting into your relationship. isagi just seemed so… scared?

he rarely ever brought up sex, rarely ever made any advances towards you. did he just not find you sexually attractive? either way, it was starting to get on your nerves.

that’s when you brought it up, asking him what is was that put him off so much. it wasn’t like you wanted to pressure him or anything, but what 19 year old boy doesn’t want to have sex with his gorgeous girlfriend?

“what do y’mean? i thought i might’ve freaked you out if i brought anything up.”, he adds, “i thought it was you that was scared.”, he explains with a shrug whilst you gave him the most bewildered look.

that same night, you had found yourself underneath your boyfriend with soft whimpers and moans leaving both your lips as your gummy walls stretched around his cock, his thrusts so unbelievably gentle.

his hands were entwined with yours, dropping down to place gentle, chaste kisses on your lips as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

“you feel so good, baby..”, he groans with a breathy laugh, “this was definitely worth the wait.”

and he never forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked like this, completely bare and vulnerable underneath him. it was almost overwhelming for him, seeing the girl he loved liked so much in such a way, only for him.

he really showed you the difference between making love and straight fucking. isagi was just so sweet in every aspect of your relationship, it was like he was worshipping your body, leaving no place untouched or unappreciated.

he spent so much time on your clit too, licking and kissing it whilst looking up at you through his big blue eyes which held nothing but adoration for you.

and when you came, isagi had this sort of weird expression you hadn’t seen before, like he had found the most beautiful thing in life and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

the pillow talk afterwards was the best, gently tracing along the muscles of his arms as you both had the sweetest, most genuine conversation. you felt like you had opened a locked door of your relationship, revealing nothing but open space of bliss and serenity.

everything about that night was so beautiful and precious, and you’ll forever treasure it. ♡

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[shares-a-vest]

cw: smoking. also the brief contemplation of drinking and driving (Steve and Eddie would be like this, but don't do it kiddos!!)

Ever since Dustin made the mistake of begging one of his older male friends to help him find the other, his life has been reduced to, well...

Shit like this.

Standing in the middle of Hawkins High's parking lot like a lost puppy, lingering like a wet, rotten fart in Mike's basement as he waits for Steve and Eddie to finish up their conversation. A little chat that must be oh-so-hilarious this evening judging by all the chuckling Steve is doing.

And the fact that Eddie is allowing this new friendship to encroach on Hellfire? Well, that part is just plain weird.

He cut the night off early and pushed ahead of all the boys to skip on his merry way to the Beemer, where Steve was waiting with a big stupid smile that Dustin quickly discovered was for Eddie and Eddie only.

Dustin must have been a fool to ever think it was a good idea for Steve and Eddie to become friends. Oh, how he regrets that crisp spring morning!

Well, maybe he doesn't regret the whole thing. Y'know, saving the world and keeping Max and Eddie alive, and all that.

Dustin purses his lips. Because screw this. Eddie should be more grateful.

He steps forward, narrowing his eyes as he hopes to grab the attention of his traitorous, rude friends.

"Can I help you with something?" Eddie asks after a long moment of nothing but dead-eyed staring back at him like he's the idiot.

"I thought you were driving me home?" Dustin raises a brow to Steve.

But Steve doesn't notice or say anything as Eddie reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve a lighter and a pack of smokes.

Dustin scrubs a hand over his face. Jesus Christ, he is going to be standing here for hours now!

He should have just taken a chance with Ted Wheeler's snoozefest talk-back radio. Or risked his precious life in Grant's car. Maybe he should have found better friends in the first place. Maybe he should have stopped this friendship from blossoming months ago when Eddie was still half-dead in the hospital.

"I thought you quit smoking?" he says, folding his arms with a disapproving huff.

Eddie makes a face at him as if such a suggestion is utter nonsense. Steve meanwhile, plucks a cigarette from the pack, pauses and glares.

"Was your mom within earshot when I said that?"

"Yes!"

Eddie lights up his own cigarette and then reaches for Steve's. Steve meets him halfway, smirking with a look in his eyes that Dustin cannot help but think is some kind of knowing glance. Great – they must be doing this on purpose!

"Tell your mom we smoke and I'll kick your ass, Henderson," Eddie mumbles around a puff, "We have reputations to uphold."

Steve nods, "Respectable."

Ironically, that oxymoron is when Dustin catches the streetlight reflecting off a can. A beer can. One of a six-pack sitting on the hood of Steve's car. His friend must notice (or more likely, Steve's pea-brain remembers the existence of the beverages) because he quickly straightens up, snaps one free and offers it to Eddie.

Eddie giggles and twirls a lock of his hair before taking the beer. Goddamnit, these two are so irritating!

"What is this, a fucking tailgate?" Dustin shrieks.

"Shut it," Eddie shoots back before he takes – probably too many – desperate slurps.

"Relax, worry wort. I'll get you home before I drink anything."

Eddie holds up his beer and jingles it in Steve's face, taunting him. Steve stops to ponder the temptation – he truly is operating at a snail's pace here! – as he glances between Eddie, the Beemer and the now-five pack. So much for being 'respectable'.

Eddie takes another sip and belches, "Come on, Stevie, let's get the kiddo home."

Steve sighs and pushes himself up from the hood of his car.

"Finally! Thank you!" Dustin sighs, exasperated, "Y'know, none of this was supposed to happen!"

But Steve just pushes past him, spinning his keys on his finger as Eddie scoops up the beers, cradling them like they are his babies.

"Watch your shoes when you get in the car."

"And I'm picking the music."

[taojjang]

𐙚 anton lee is . . .

✩⸝⸝ [THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND TO...] a seven-part series! (vol.7) . . .

# ಇ. anton as your boyfriend; headcanons!    ⋆   fluff!   //   bf!anton x reader  ˖  ✧ no warnings [m.list]

💬 ... extra special happy bday to my pretty boy! this is the last part of this series (if you can call it one)! these r so simple and cute i loved all of them :( this one might be a long one cus anton is too romantic, i have waaay to much to say about this little guy...

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bf!anton who . . . is your giant teddy bear <3

bf!anton who . . . is practically glued to you, he can't go mere seconds without holding your hand or resting on your shoulder.

bf!anton who . . . always offers to carry your bag or belongings so you have a free hand to hold onto his arm with.

bf!anton who . . . shares everything with you; what's his is yours, from his clothes to his precious teddy bears.

bf!anton who . . . shares even his work gossip with you..? "you're never gonna believe what eunseok said today! i might need you to fight him for me, love.. </3"

bf!anton who . . . can't sleep a wink until he can see your face over the phone and wish you a good night.

bf!anton who . . . is always thinking about you during his bustling day-to-day life, always being reminded of you whenever he spots a stray cat on the sidewalk or when he smells cinnamon as he passes by your favorite bakery.

bf!anton who . . . manifests your love through food <3 this little foodie is always finding new restaurants and food trucks to stop by just to spend some time with you and fill his tummy.

bf!anton who . . . always lets you have your way no matter how much it hurts or inconveniences him. he'd do anything just for you to feel at peace.

bf!anton who . . . treasures every milestone with you, never letting you have an ordinary birthday or valentines day, even celebrating small achievements like pay raises or completing a dreaded chore.

bf!anton who . . . could never bear the thought of hurting you, so he always goes out of his way to make things right even if you're in the wrong.

bf!anton who . . . makes every day special for you, surprising you with your favorite colored flowers and a box of chocolates even if there's no special occasion. he loves you too much to let your days go by without any appreciation <3

bf!anton who . . . never makes decisions without considering your feelings. he's constantly hyper-aware of your comments and reactions because he's conscious of his actions and would never do anything to hurt you </3

bf!anton who . . . is a better boyfriend than you could ever wish for.

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!) @endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[fixated-cookies]

im kinda thinkin about.... hypnosis and smilk.... smth abt the process specifically of taking over and invading your mind.. slowly giving into it even if youre resisting the effects its having on your mind, its inevitable that he'll win and you'll succumb to his control and influence over you... your mind may be foggy, but it's so perfectly empty and moldable now... what were you doing again? do you even care?

smth about being unable to look away from his eyes once he starts it; even if you look away, something will draw you back, and it gets stronger as it goes on... at first, you can physically turn away (though you'll get dragged back by some invisible force), but eventually you cant even rip your heard away from his gaze. smth about it being unable to be stopped by anyone other than himself once he starts it... no matter how far from you he is (as long as he's well... in sightline)

honestly you can like. think abt this in any context you want . i just.... really like the concept of hypnosis with him..... its captivating to me (hah) .... sorry for the essay in your inbox damn

Anon the reason why this was rotting in my askbox for so long was because I needed to give it justice hahaha, hypnosis is totally in character for someone like shadow milk cookie, and I love it.

WARNING- slight yandere, hypnosis

Hmm, I'm wondering how it would start, he would obviously make it a game, maybe a game of truth or dare, hm? Just a little bit of lollygagging to get rid of his boredom.

So, when he asked— “Truth or Dare?”—

You made the horrible mistake of choosing dare.

His grin widened, all teeth.“Ohhh, you’re feeling bold tonight! How delightful! Now, let’s see…” He tapped a finger against his chin, pretending to think. You should have been nervous. You should have backed out. But you didn’t.

I dare you… to look into my eyes and not look away.”

Simple, right?

You almost laughed. Thats its? Thats all?

"Ah-ah, don’t look so relieved~! There’s a catch, of course. You must hold my gaze until I say you can look away. Break eye contact, and you lose."

You scoffed. What was he playing at? You weren’t afraid of a staring contest. Getting into position you held yourself steady as he looked overly excited.

For a while, it felt like a normal challenge. You stared, he stared, and time stretched between you both. But then… something changed. The air felt thicker. Your body heavier. You blinked once. It felt like it took longer than it should have to open your eyes again. You swallowed. Something felt off.

Your limbs felt distant like you weren’t quite inside your body anymore. You tried to look away—But your head wouldn’t move. "I...I-" "Tsk, tsk… You’re not trying to look away, are you? Ohh, but I can see that dazed look in your eyes already… how precious!" He started to scoot closer. Not fast. Not abrupt. No, he took his time, savoring the way your body twitched ever so slightly. How your breath caught, your fingers tightening into trembling fists against the floor. Your head refused to move. Your body felt so distant, like a marionette with cut strings, a doll that could only watch as its puppeteer inched nearer.

Your vision wavered, the edges blurring as if reality itself was losing focus. His eyes were all you could see. How could this happen? you were so sure he didn't have...any malicious...intent—huh...? What was going on...?—No, you hadn’t! You had to resist, you had to—"Mmm, that’s a good look on you… so unfocused, so lost…" He suddenly interrupted your thoughts.

You blinked, but the action felt slow, heavy, like your body was moving through water. You knew—somewhere, deep down—that this was wrong. That you should snap out of it. But… that was so difficult. Thinking was… so hard. Your lips parted, but no words came out. Only a quiet, dazed sigh.

Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, only for it to falter as your eyesight ripped away from him violently, a frustrated groan escaping you as you squeezed your eyes shut out of defiance. "Oh? You still have some fight left in you?" His voice slithered through the air, a mocking lilt woven into his amusement. How predictable. How pathetic. Impossibly close now, his presence, looming, suffocating—but when his hands cupped your cheeks, you knew there was no escape. His palms were cool, but his grip was unyielding.

"Really now, I thought you were smarter than this." His thumbs trailed lower, brushing over your lips with featherlight strokes. "Oh, my dear, sweet fool…" His voice dipped into a breathy murmur, mismatched eyes drinking in every flicker of your resolve. "...I wonder... how long will that last?"

His grip on your cheeks tightened—just enough for his thumbs to press against your skin, coaxing you, urging you—until your lashes fluttered. A sliver of light slipped through.

And the moment your gaze met his—

The air in your lungs vanished. And oh, how he grinned.

"Mmm… there it is."

His voice was nothing but a purr, smooth and saccharine as he drank in your struggle. His grip softened, shifting to cradle your face so delicately—as if he hadn’t just crushed your resistance in the palm of his hand.

"Much easier when you don’t fight, isn’t it?"

His thumbs stroked your cheeks, his tone mocking, indulgent—but there was something darker beneath it. "Go on, little puppet…" His breath ghosted over your lips as his mismatched eyes pulled you deeper, deeper, deeper. "Be good for me, yeah?" He murmurs lowly Before you could even process it, his lips were on yours—slow, deliberate, consuming. A kiss meant to unravel, to claim. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, holding you there, grounding you— or perhaps, chaining you.

And when he finally pulled away, he didn’t need to command you to look at him this time.

Because you already were.

A single finger tapped lightly against your forehead as if to mock the emptiness settling in. His victory.

"See? Much better when you don’t think."

--

you guys, rate my hypnosis writing I need it!! These ideas are just sooo juicy.

[multicohn]

summary: isack being a supportive boyfriend to his girlfriend during the olympics

warnings: just a short little thing for now ( shout out to all my isack lovers btw ). drivers being jokingly mean, thought i'd put it in just in case. this is based back in 2024 after spa :)

pairing: fem! skateboarder! reader x isack hadjar

genre: smau, fluff, established relationship

face claim: no one in particular. i got most of the photos off pinterest and just picked them at random ( i don’t know who the skater is in the last pics, but the blurred photo is of the medal winners )

author note: this was going to be a gabi oneshot, but i changed it at the last minute

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isackhadjar

liked by pepemartiofficial and others

isackhadjar: great way to start the break! now time to go support my y/n at home <3

( tagged: youruser )

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user: good job isack!

paularon_: i let you win btw

| isackhadjar: yeah okay

user: cuties

camposracing: enjoy your break champ 👊 hoping y/n wins 🙏

| youruser: thanks admin 💖

user: what does she compete in?

| youruser: skateboarding!

| user: oh... which one are you in?

| youruser: park, so it'll be on august 6th if you wanna watch :)

youruser: reporting for hab duties lol

| isackhadjar: always 🫡

| paularon_: i’m going to be sick

| isackhadjar: die

| user: LMAO

pepemartiofficial: can i wear her medal if she wins?

| isackhadjar: wdym if…

| pepemartiofficial: 🙄 *when

| isackhadjar: good. don't do it again

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youruser

seen by camposracing and more

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user: don’t break him we need him

paularon_: yes… do it so so i can win

| youruser: you haven’t even been on the top podium yet, sit down.

| paularon: hope you lose in the first round

| youruser: 🖕

sami_meguetounif: please tell me he fell

| youruser: he slipped off and the board hit him in the ankle

| sami_meguetounif: LOL DID YOU RECORD IT

| youruser: IM NOT GIVING IT TO YOU

| sami_meguetounif: BOOO 🍅🍅🍅

camposracing: please don’t injure him. he’s got a championship fight going on

| youruser: I KNOW THAT HE WAS FINE

| camposracing: 😐

| youruser: it was just a bit of pain… BUT NOTHING IS BROKEN OR BRUISED OR EVEN SCRATCHED

| camposracing: 😑

| youruser: attitude

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youruser

liked by olliebearman and others

youruser: my precious 🫶

( tagged: isackhadjar )

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olliebearman: okay gollum

| youruser: i’m going to doxx you

user: i’m new here. wtf do you mean isack is dating someone in the olympics

| user: they started dating towards the start of the year. there was a skateboarding comp going on in the same place as a race and he went to see with some of the other guys

| youruser: i will also like to state that i did rizz him up first

| gabirelbortoleto_: and ignored all of us at the same time

| youruser: i was NOT 🙅‍♀️ letting a man THAT cute WITH big brown eyes leave without getting his number first

| isackhadjar: ☺️

| gabirelbortoleto_: WE ALL HAD BROWN EYES WTH AREBYOU TALKING ABOUT

| youruser: his are special

| gabirelbortoleto_: im going to block you both

user: was he allowed in the village?

| youruser: NO I WAS SO UPSET

| youruser: but the beds were basically made of cupboard so i saved him back pain 🫶

| camposracing: thank you

kimi.antonelli: still offended that i didn’t get an invie

| isackhadjar: you don’t deserve one

| kimi.antonelli: UNPROVOKED????

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isackhadjar

viewed by gabirelbortoleto_ and others

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user: we love a supportive bf

gabirelbortoleto_: be honest, did you throw up?

| isackhadjar: yes

| gabirelbortoleto_: you aren’t even competing

| isackhadjar: and here i thought you were being supportive. watch out in monza

user: love when drivers became wags

| isackhadjar: it’s a hab.

| user: my bad king 🙏

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

isackhadjar

liked by camposracing and others

isackhadjar: SHE DID IT ❤️❤️

( tagged: youruser )

view all comments

user: HOLY SHI

user: i was watching and they put the camera on isack — he was crying SO BAD

user: she ate that

user: absolutely unreal to witness her skate

sami_meguetounif: congrats to y/n and everything... why do you look tall in the last photo

| pepemartiofficial: i thought i was the only one!

| isackhadjar: one day is all i ask for

formula2: WOOHOO WELL DONE Y/N

camposracing: an olympic gold medalist will be in our garage...

| camposracing: someone hold me

jakcrawford: damn you better win the championship now

| isackhadjar: working on it…

| gabirelbortoleto_: 🧍

| paularon_: 🧍

| zane.maloney: 🧍

| isackhadjar: GO AWAY

youruser: i love you so much 🥹🥹💙

| isackhadjar: you constantly have me in awe, i love you baby, well done 💙

| olliebearman: barf

| isackhadjar: WHY ARE YOUS DOING THIS TO ME LEAVE

kimi.antonelli: congrats y/n! ( why didn’t you invite me )

| isackhadjar: stay mad

| kimi.antonelli: ⁉️

[andromedicasphyxiate]

Me: *raises my hand*

Vampire Coach Driving Professor: "yes, beautiful angel in the back wearing the SpongeBob t-shirt?"

Me (the beautiful angel in the back wearing the SpongeBob t-shirt): "thank you so much for the compliments professor!! You look amazing too in your vampire ass jacket, hat and cape!! 🩷🩷🎀🎀🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️👼👼✨️✨️I understand the handout Professor, but I was wondering, is it okay to refer to my clients as vamp daddy or vamp mommy?"

Professor: *facepalming hard and then sighing defeatedly* "well. I suppose you could, but only if they flirt with you first."

Me: wheeeeeeeee 😍😍😍

Professor: *giving up completely and going into enabling mode to feed my raging emotional health issues (read: daddy/mommy issues)* "and if you want that to happen, make sure to put on blood red lipstick, and blush your cheeks pink, cuz, you know, vampires and blood and raaah (mimics a vampire attack) and yummy (rubs his tummy) and shit. And put your hair in an updo to expose your neck but make it messy cuz you don't want to look like a school principal. Unless you have the glasses to match, because who knows, they might be into that whole kink thing, like, dyu know what I mean? (I nod vigorously and all-knowingly). And if you are accepting payments in bites, make sure to only take 20% of the tariff on your first ride in bites and the rest in cash, otherwise you'll look super desperate and needy and that's not cute. You can do 30% in bites and the rest in cash if they hire you a second time and go from there. And PLEASE don't mention Vampire Diaries or Twilight because it's just pop culture swill and you think you're so precious that you thought of it all on your own but so did literally every other millennial tumblr bitch from the 2000's and like, they don't effing need that on their ride, and..."

Me(thinking that this is my favorite class ever and that this is the most knowledgeable and helpful prof EVER): *taking copious amounts of detailed notes*

Professor(after 28.5 minutes, concluding this section of the lesson): "....so yeah. That's the standard protocol one should follow to go down the whole vamp daddy and vamp mommy road. Oh, and lose that SpongeBob t-shirt. I happen to love it, but literally none of the others will--they'll think you're fucking ridiculous and maybe not even tip."

Fin.

[d-z20]

Where Our Hands Linger (implied smut)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You trust your girlfriends. You love them. But self-doubt is a cruel thing, and tonight, it’s louder than their gentle reassurances. Lucky for you, Agatha and Rio have never been the kind to let doubts linger for long.

-OR-

You think you’re not hot enough for Agatha and Rio. Agatha and Rio think that’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever heard. So, naturally, they spend the night proving you wrong—with their hands, their mouths, and an ungodly amount of praise.

Warnings: non-detailed smut, Rio tops, you bottom, and Agatha holds you, threesome, implied fingering and oral sex/cunnilingus, body insecurity (non-specific), fluff, comfort

Words: 2.1k

A/N: Chucks this at you all and runs away Requested fic :P

Masterlist

The candlelight flickered lazily, casting golden ripples across the room as you sat between them—Agatha at your back, Rio lounging in front of you, legs draped over yours in a lazy, comfortable sprawl. The weight of their presence was grounding, but tonight, your mind was loud, filling your chest with a dull, aching self-consciousness that you couldn't quite shake.

You had been quiet all evening, lost in your own thoughts, tugging at the fabric of your shirt, shifting under their eyes whenever they lingered too long. It wasn't that you didn't trust them—you did, deeply. But trust didn't silence the nagging voice in your head, the one that whispered cruel things about your body, about why they would ever want you when they were both so… so them.

Agatha, with her wicked, knowing smirk and voice like velvet-dipped honey, her hands always teasing but never unkind. And Rio, all sharp smiles and quiet intensity, the kind of woman who could make the air shift when she walked into a room.

And then there was you.

"You're thinking too much again, sweetheart," Agatha spoke against your temple before kissing there, her voice low and knowing. Then she nuzzled into your hair with a content sigh, as if just having you this close was enough to bring her peace. "You always do this," she murmured playfully, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles on your hip. "Getting lost in that pretty little head of yours instead of letting us love you."

Rio hummed, her fingers toying with yours before slipping them between her own, squeezing gently. "Maybe we should keep you right here, between us, forever," she teased, voice light but full of something deeper.

Agatha’s arms wrapped around your waist, her fingers playing idly with the hem of your shirt, but she didn’t push. She never did. "What’s going on up there, hmm?"

You hesitated, eyes flicking to Rio, who was watching you with that soft, lidded gaze of hers, thumb brushing over your knuckles. The way they looked at you—it was never cruel, nor mocking. Only ever full of warmth. But still, you felt yourself shrink at their attention.

"I just…" You exhaled, shoulders curling inward. "I don’t get it."

"Don’t get what, cariño?" Rio’s voice was smooth.

"Why you…why you want me," you admitted, barely above a whisper. "You both look like that and I’m just me. You could have anyone you want and yet it’s me who’s sat here. I don’t—" Your throat tightened. "I just don’t see what you see."

For a moment, there was only quiet. Then, warmth—Agatha's lips pressing against the shell of your ear, Rio’s shifting closer, her fingers sliding up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face toward hers.

"You really think we’d let just anyone have us?" Agatha hummed, her voice curling around you like silk. "Mmm, no, sweetheart. We’re very particular," she continued, tilting her head so her nose brushed against your jaw. "And you? You’re our favourite. Our best girl."

Rio chuckled, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "Our only girl."

You swallowed, your heart thudding as they looked at you like you were something precious, something worth worshipping.

Agatha’s hands, always so confident, slid lower, stroking your sides through the fabric. "You think we love you despite this?" she murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your shoulder. "No, no, darling. We love you because of this. Every inch of you."

Rio hummed in agreement, her lips finding your wrist, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses there, her fingers mapping out every dip and curve. “Every part of you,” she whispered against your pulse, “is ours to love.”

Agatha’s grip on you tightened slightly, and she pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the back of your neck. “And we do love you, sweetheart, so much." 

The words sank into your skin like honey, and then your breath hitched as Agatha then tugged you back against her, her hands splaying over your stomach, her voice a decadent whisper against your ear.

"We’ll only go as far as you want," she promised, nipping lightly at your earlobe, sending shivers through you. She smirked against your skin. "Oh? Sensitive there, are we?"

You barely had time to react before she lightly dug her fingers into your side, making you jolt.

"Agatha!" you yelped, trying to squirm away.

Rio chuckled, clearly amused. "Oh, this is good information."

"No, no, no—" you started, but it was too late—Rio added her own teasing touches, sending you into a fit of laughter as you weakly tried to escape.

"Mercy! Mercy!" you gasped between giggles.

Agatha finally relented, laughing as she kissed your temple. "Alright, alright. But now we know your weakness, sweetheart."

"I hate you both," you grumbled, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

Agatha chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as your laughter faded into breathless little huffs. "See? That’s the sound we love."

Rio grinned devilishly, but her teasing expression softened as she cupped your cheek, brushing her thumb along your skin. "You look so beautiful when you’re happy." Her voice was quieter now, more certain.

Your breath hitched at the sincerity in her gaze, the way her touch lingered—gentle and reverent. The warmth in your chest spread, curling around the last of your doubts.

And then slowly, so slowly, Rio’s lips trailed down your arm, her dark eyes full of something deep and consuming. "Let us love you the way you deserve," she breathed, her fingers slipping under the bottom of your shirt.

You shivered, exhaling shakily, a slow warmth blooming in your chest. You weren’t sure you would ever see what they did. But you could feel it. In the way they touched you, in the way they looked at you, and in the way they spoke to you—all like you were something to be cherished.

The air between you was thick with warmth, charged with something more than desire—something softer, something that made your breath catch and your chest ache. Agatha’s hands never left you, slow and deliberate as they traced over the fabric of your shirt, each pass of her fingers like a silent promise: You are safe. You are adored.

Rio’s lips had found the curve of your shoulder, her breath featherlight as she whispered against your skin. "Let us take care of you, cariño." The heat of her palm pressing against your bare stomach. "Let us show you how beautiful you are."

Your instincts told you to shy away, to cover yourself, to hide—but their touch, their words, they anchored you. You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as Agatha gently pulled you to lie back all the way against her, her warmth seeping into you.

"I—" Your voice was barely a whisper, uncertainty still curling in your chest like a stubborn vine.

"Shhh, sweetheart." Agatha pressed a kiss behind your ear, her voice like silk and smoke. "You don’t have to do anything. Just let us worship you."

Her fingers slid down, slow, teasing, coaxing. Rio's lips followed, kissing a path from your shoulder to your collarbone, pausing only to glance up at you, checking, always checking.

"You still with us?" she asked, her voice smooth as honey.

You nodded, breathless.

Rio smiled, a slow, knowing thing, before dipping her head lower, her mouth ghosting over the sensitive skin just above your sternum. A whimper slipped from your lips before you could catch it, and Agatha chuckled softly behind you.

"That’s our beautiful girl," she murmured, her hands spreading over your stomach, her fingers kneading into the flesh there, not shying away from any part of you. She wanted you to feel her touch, to know that every part of you deserved reverence. "So, so gorgeous."

You wanted to argue, to protest, to list every reason why that couldn’t be true—but how could you, when they were both here, touching you like you were something sacred?

Agatha’s lips found the pulse at your neck, her tongue flicking over sensitive skin until you gasped. At the same time, Rio’s hands found your thighs, feeling the skin there with slow, purposeful strokes. "We’ll only go as far as you want," she reminded you, her voice softer now, her dark eyes searching yours.

"Promise?" you whispered.

"Cross my heart," Rio murmured, her fingers brushing the hem of your shirt but not lifting it yet. "But I do want to see you. Let me?"

You hesitated for a second, but Agatha’s arms tightened around you, her lips pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your shoulder. "No rush, sweetheart," she soothed. "We could stay like this all night if that’s what you want."

The warmth in their voices, the sheer patience in their touch, melted something inside you. Slowly, you nodded.

Rio smiled, but she didn’t rush. Instead, she guided your hands to the fabric of your own shirt, letting you lift it at your own pace. Her fingers barely skimmed your skin, just offering warmth, not pressure.

The fabric fell away, and for a heartbeat, you felt exposed. Vulnerable. The old insecurities rose, clawing at your ribs—until Agatha’s hands smoothed over your sides, and Rio leaned back to admire you, her gaze molten, full of something so adoring it nearly broke you.

"Look at you," she breathed, her fingertips tracing over the swell of your breasts, not groping—just feeling, as if memorising you. "So damn perfect."

"Divine," Agatha agreed, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "And ours."

The last word sent a delicious shiver down your spine, pooling low in your stomach, replacing doubt with something new—need.

"It’s okay, sweetheart," Agatha purred, her fingers tracing lower, teasing over the waistband of your shorts. "We’ll take care of you."

And oh, did they.

Their hands and mouths moved in tandem—Agatha’s grip firm and knowing as she held you against her, whispering praises into your ear, Rio’s lips and fingers working their own brand of magic, drawing out every shiver, every gasp, every plea.

You felt it, that slow, curling build of pleasure overtaking you, drowning out everything else—every insecurity, every self-doubt. There was only this—only them, only the way they made you feel like you were something precious, something worthy of adoration.

It wasn’t just pleasure; it was reverence. It was love.

And when you finally tipped over the edge into your orgasm, Rio’s name tangled with Agatha’s on your lips, their hands holding you steady as you trembled, gasping, falling apart beneath their touch.

They didn’t let you go, not for a second.

Agatha held you through it, muttering soft praises into your hair, while Rio kissed every inch of bare skin she could reach, tracing idle patterns over your thighs, grounding you.

"You still with us, darling?" Agatha susurrated, tilting your face toward hers.

You nodded weakly, still floating, your body warm and boneless. "Yeah…"

Rio chuckled, brushing your hair back with surprising tenderness. "That’s our girl."

They eased you back into bed, draping a blanket over your cooling skin. Agatha pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead while Rio curled up beside you, a protective arm wrapping around your waist.

"Still think we don’t want you?" Agatha asked, voice teasing but gentle.

She shook her head, as if scandalised. "You know what? From now on, I’m making it my personal mission to tell you every single ridiculous thing I love about you, every day."

Rio chuckled. "Here we go."

"First of all," Agatha continued dramatically, gesturing like she was making an important speech, "your smile? It could start wars. Your laugh? Cures diseases. The way you cuddle into me when you're sleepy? Unfairly adorable. Your—"

"Agatha," you groaned, covering your face, your cheeks burning.

"No, no, I’m on a roll here!" she insisted, prying your hands away with a smirk. "Your eyes? Literal galaxies. Your—"

Rio smirked, interrupting. "Oh, now you’ve done it. She’s going to monologue for hours."

"Okay, okay," you sighed, your body sinking into the comfort of their embrace. "Maybe I believe you a little more now…"

Rio chuckled, shifting to press a kiss to your temple. "Good. Because we’re going to spend every day proving it to you."

Agatha hummed, tucking the blankets more securely around you before trailing her fingers lazily over your ribs, up and down in soft, absentminded patterns. "And tomorrow morning?" she added. "I’m making breakfast. Heart-shaped pancakes, just to be extra obnoxious about how much we love you."

"You’re impossible," you grumbled, smiling despite yourself.

"You love it," Agatha countered, grinning against your shoulder.

And as Rio pressed one last, lingering kiss to your knuckles, fingers tangled with yours, you finally let it happen; you let yourself feel loved.

Entirely and completely loved.

-----

Currently this is a tumblr special because I can't be asked to post to AO3 rn, so enjoy it :D

also I had NO clue what to use as the image for this I was like "uhhhhhhhhh how to convey this but I need kathryn/aubrey to feature maybe" so we ended up with that gif

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6stolenangel9 @jujuu23 @juls-stark

[tokoyamisstuff]

I’m absolutely in love with ur Prison! Mark !!!

He’s so overlooked, I adore my bald-headed freak ♡♡♡

Got any HC for him, regarding his scars and or his massaging specialty ? 👀👀👀

Omg sure! I'd love to write a Oneshot for him but I don't have any inspiration, maybe you got a scenario in mind? 👀

Don't be fooled, this man is just as ruthless and sadistic as his multidimensional counterparts.

The greatest difference between him and the others however is that he fully accepts and even cherishes his human side, since it makes him stand out even from the other Viltrumites. [Slight Comic Spoiler: Adrenaline, iykyk]

For that very same reason he sees his bond with you not as a weakness, but the very souce of his strenght. Many times before, his love for you has brought him to exceed his limits when it came to keep you safe.

The thought of harming or doing as much as leaving you never crossed his mind. You're his precious soulmate, meant to reign at his side and he'd be damned if he let any circumstance take you away from him.

He's a self-proclaimed 'liberator', once even siding with the Coalition of Planets just to betray them in the end.

His motives have always been selfish, aspiring to create his own empire after getting rid of Viltrum from the inside.

When the Viltrumites found out about his intentions, they forced Nolan to carry out the punishment to prove his loyalty.

I really have no idea how exactly they did it, but they literally cooked him alive and somehow slowed down his healing afterwards, so he remained with the proof of those injuries.

Seems like he also inhaled some of whatever burned him, which is why his voice is so much more low and raw compared to his variants.

After this agonizing event not only his body was left severely affected. But instead of fearing the fire, he grew to crave it. #pyromaniac

That incident, and especially the fact that Omni-man putting you in harms way several times, trying to use you as leverage in order to make his son cooperate, are the cause for Mark's deep-rooted hatred for his father.

When he first reunited with you after all of this, his scars didn't seem to have diminished his confidence at all. He never doubted that you don't care about superficialities, after all.

And yet during intimacy he prefers to stay clothed.

This guy is a fucking animal in bed. Like, the sounds that leave his mouth are more animalistic than human. If it wasn't for him holding back due to your fragile human physiology, you would've probably died a very blissful death already.

Kiss or trace his scars with your finger while calling him your pretty boy and this beast of a man will become putty in your hands. Blushing and giggling and hiding his face in your neck, the whole package.

He really is the embodiment of a 'bad boy', but one with a soft core that is genuinely devoted to his partner. He'll make entire civilizations subdue to his will and then come back home taking care of you.

I hope you like big gestures, because this man cannot be subtle about anything. He really enjoys seeing you in charge and always encourages you to go all out, since whatever you desire he'll provide.

He'll gladly grant your every wish and always prepares unique ways to be romantic. Like, really concerning things that probably involve murder and such, but it's the thought that counts.

Loves to infuriate other Viltrumites by shoving his worship for you into their face. They'd send diplomates and he'll have you sit on the throne while he kneels at your feet, ordering them to address any matter to you instead.

Oh, he absolutely allows no disrespect to his mate. It's one of the few occasions where he actually loses his nonchalant attitude, and the consequences will be dire.

In general the two of you are like Bonnie and Clyde but on an interplanetar scale. You live in the moment, do whatever you feel like on a whim and leave the mess you caused behind.

It's only a matter of time until he finds the source to immortality, really. Asides from his other goals, he is searching relentlessly for a way to extend your lifespan during his travel across the galaxy.

All in all, with this Mark you're in for a fantastic sci-fi adventure that'll have you make countless new aquaintaces and experiences.

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ SLOW DANCE

violet; 1,171 words; fluff, jane austen!au, cross-dressing (vi), ballroom dancing, vaguely regency-adjacent vibes, almost angst if you squint very hard, no "y/n", lapslock

summary: i just wanna slow dance, this is the last romance

a/n: a very very belated happy birthday to @aimfor-theheart <3 i hope this tickles ur slow dancing vibes!!! ur so precious to me i hope u had a beautiful week!!!

─── Ⅵ YOU CAN TELL IT'S HER almost immediately, but in the spin of crenolins and the sweep of satin, the brush of silk gloves on velvet lapels, you're thankful that no one else has noticed.

the ball is drawing to a close, with only the most devoted of dancers still taking part, the orchestra striking up a slower tune, something honeyed. her fingers slip around your waist, her other hand finding yours with expert ease.

there's an entire galaxy caught in the hazy blue of her eyes.

"i thought you weren't planning on staying that long," vi says, cocking her head, her pink hair swept up beneath a stuffy wig in alliance with the latest parisian fashions. you glance around at the pairs of twirling dancers all around you, your stomach a twist of excitement and nerves, though you can't help the spark that chases up your spine at the thought of doing this, so out in the open.

"and i thought you weren't even going to come?" you bite back, though a grin crimps at the corner of your mouth.

the pair of you slip apart to circle around another duo of dancers before rejoining in a line. you take the momentary split to admire the clean cut of vi's body in her tailored suit, her figure so handsome no wonder none of the others have noticed there's a lady masquerading as a gentleman in their midst. you allow yourself a secret smile as she slides her hand into yours again, leading you through the steps of the dance as if it were second nature.

you resist the urge to drop your face into the crook of her neck (like you had done that one blessed summer afternoon, the pair of you laid out in the shade of the willow tree, a picnic blanket spread out beneath you, a half-drunk bottle of berry wine tucked in the wicker basket — she'd been in trousers then too, having tugged off the ridiculous skirt of her dress, leaving her oh-so-scandalously clad in an undershirt, a half-undone corset, and men's pantaloons, her feet bare —

"dance with me," you'd said, tugging her hand into yours. she'd laughed, the kind of full-bellied laughter that washes over your skin in great waves of joy, leaving you rocked and reeling, gripping onto her shoulders as she pulls you both up and spins you under her arm, catching you around your waist.

you'd buried your face in the warm crook of her neck, breathed her in, counting silently the steady staccato beats of her heart against yours.

"maybe one of these days i'll sneak into a ball and just… sweep you away," she'd murmured, her voice close enough to your ear to make your shiver.

you let out a string of bitten-back giggles, glancing up at her, eyes catching on the light constellation of freckles dotted across her cheek.

"please do… most of them are so stuffy i almost wonder if uncle's not just making me attend them as punishment.")

instead, you let her spin you to the edge of the dance floor, where you both topple into the back garden, laughter spilling from you both as vi tugs you behind a tall hedge of rosebushes to press her lips to yours, her fingers rucking up the material of your very full skirt. the kiss is mostly giggling until it melts into soft gasps and moans, vi's lips working their diligent way down the cut of your jaw to suck at the delicate skin above your jugular.

"v-vi — not — not too hard —!"

"mm… and here i thought you were a fan of being a little rough —" she grins, pulling back.

"i —" you swallow, tamping down the urge to reach for your fan as vi cocks her head, watching you with half-lidded eyes, her gaze sharp as the scimitar moon above you, "i do — just —" you peak around the hedgerows towards the main ballroom, "i do have to go back in there at some point in time…"

vi's eyebrow hitches as a slow, steady coil gathers at the base of your belly.

"unless you don't."

you narrow your eyes, a faint, hummingbird-flutter collecting at the back of your throat as you stare at her.

"what… what do you mean?"

"unless…" she drags out the word, long, languorous, like honey on a perfect slice of fruit, caught and silvering in the liquid moonlight, "i spirit you away right now in my horse and carriage, and no one need be any the wiser."

the fluttering grows, so much like feathers you almost forget to breathe. and then —

"but — what of my carriage —?"

"i've already spoken to your coachman and… if you don't arrive in the next hour or so… he'll take the carriage and head back on his own."

you purse your lips, the giddiness pluming inside you till it spills out in reams of incredulous laughter.

"you've thought this all out, haven't you?"

vi shrugs, leaning in to brush a strand of hair from your face, her eyes softening as she tugs you in for another long kiss.

"i promised that i'd steal you away for a night, didn't i?"

you swallow, licking your lips, your breath caught in the cool, summer night.

"that… you did," you answer, leaning into her as she pulls you along the pebbled path deeper into the garden. soon enough, the music from the ballroom is nothing more than a whisper on the wind, and the world no more than cricket-song and the steady drumbeat of your own, yearning hearts.

vi laces her fingers through yours, pulls you into her side till you're face to face again. she smiles, takes your other hand in hers and spins you around in a flourishing dip that sends the night sky pinwheeling above you. you let out a surprised squeak, laughing as you relax into the ridiculous position before she pulls you up and the pair of you spin in slow, steady circles, your cheek resting against her shoulder, her chin tilted slightly upwards as she hums.

hours pass, or perhaps only minutes. or, it might've been several moon-lit days. time slips, inconsequential, as the pair of you sway beneath the spinning, star-strewn sky.

"why can't it always be like this?" you ask, lifting your head just to peer up at her.

vi sighs, a tiny grin gracing her lips.

"it can — and it will —" and it's the conviction in her voice more than anything that soothes you, makes you believe, even for the fraction of a second, that this — all this — might end up working out someday. somehow.

"but for now…" she says, gently guiding you back to her, your bodies pressed, spinning in slow, unhurried circles amidst the blossoming florals of a summertime garden, you, leaning up to graze your lips to her jaw, feeling her shiver at your touch, her fingers tightening around yours for just a second before she relaxes again, chuckles, presses a soft kiss into the seam of your hair —

"just… dance with me."

TAGLIST: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @the-drama-is-real @froggybich @chwlogy @xrhyllamyx @yaeil @sweetybuzz25 @lustfirepoison @gigizwrld @bruisedbygod @luvmoo @autisticgirlkisser @elegantunknowncloud @norwayromanoff @16novvs -- join the taglist

[littlesoulshine]

───birthday serve from art: dilf!art! 18+, smut, public-ish sex

the tennis courts shined under the evening lights as art adjusted his sweatband, surveying the scene. a small table set up near the large net, a modest but refined spread of champagne, strawberries, and the chocolate cake he'd insisted on making himself—a gesture both thoughtful and insistent, the way he always was.

you watch him move, showcasing the broad line of his shoulders. it still gets you, even after all this time. he'd met you right here, years ago, fresh off a match, freshly divorced, sweat still cooling on his skin when you first stumbled into his orbit. and now, here you were, a birthday celebration on the same court where it all began.

"you really didn’t have to go all out," you murmur, toeing the edge of the court, but art just smirks, stepping closer, the scent of his cologne laced with the ghost of exertion from earlier.

"if i didn’t, then i wouldn’t be me," he counters, voice rich with amusement as he slides an arm around your waist. his fingers drag slow, tracing the shape of you like he's mapping out something precious, something only he gets to claim. "besides, i remember exactly what you said last year."

you raise an eyebrow in slight confusion. "what did i say?"

"that the best birthday gifts aren’t things, they’re experiences." he dips his head, lips brushing your ear. "so, i figured...i’d give you something unforgettable."

a shiver rolls down your spine, anticipation pooling low in your belly. later, after too much cake and the fizz of champagne on your tongue, he corners you at the net, the cool weave pressing into your back as his hands bracket your hips.

"so, my lovely student," he murmurs, his breath warm against your cheek. "ready for a lesson?"

you tilt your head, feigning innocence. "lesson in what?"

his fingers tighten slightly, a warning. "discipline. control." he tilts his head, scanning your expression like he’s waiting for a challenge. "but most importantly...obedience."

heat licks at your skin, the air between you thickening. "sounds a little intense, coach donaldson. think i can handle it?"

art chuckles, low and knowing. "oh, baby...i know you can. question is, can you follow instructions?"

before you can answer, he’s spinning you around, pressing you forward against the net. his hands slide down the backs of your thighs, lifting the hem of your skirt with deliberate slowness. he hums in approval when he finds your bare cunt underneath.

"fuck," he mutters, rough fingertips tracing over your exposed skin. "you knew this was gonna happen, didn’t you? walking around all day with nothing under this tiny tennis skirt, teasing me without even trying."

"maybe," you breathe, shifting your weight back just enough to brush against the hard outline of him. "but what are you gonna do about it, coach?"

he exhales sharply, the grip on your hips tightening. "you just made my job a whole lot harder, sweetheart."

he undoes his zipper, the sound loud in the hush of the night. you suck in a breath as he presses the thick head of his cock against you, teasingly. his hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying over your ribs before dipping between your legs, sliding through the slick heat there.

"so fucking soaked already. you’ve been thinking about fuckin' your coach, haven’t you?"

your answer is a breathless moan, hips jerking as he rubs slow, torturous circles over your clit. he chuckles, dipping his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.

"needy little thing," he mutters, voice dark with satisfaction. "say it. tell me how bad you want it."

"art," you gasp, gripping the net for support. "please."

"mhm, not quite enough." he strokes you again, fingers dipping inside just enough to tease. "try again."

your whole body is trembling, the build-up unbearable. "please, coach. i need you to fuck me."

his groan is guttural, primal. "that’s my good girl."

he doesn’t wait any longer. his hands clamp down on your hips as he thrusts forward, sinking into you in one slow, stretching push. the sensation is overwhelming, your walls gripping him tight as he fills you to the hilt.

"fuck, you feel good," he growls, forehead pressing against your back for a moment as he gathers himself. "so damn tight. always so fucking perfect for me."

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a pace that has you gasping, your body rocking forward against the net. his hands slip under your shirt, pushing the fabric up so he can feel your skin, his fingers rough and possessive as they squeeze your tits.

"look at you," he rasps, watching the way your body moves with every thrust. "taking me so fucking well. like you were made for it. like this pussy was made for me."

you can barely form words, your only response a broken moan as pleasure rips through you. he fucks you harder, deeper, until the sounds of your bodies meeting echo through the empty court.

"you wanted this, didn’t you?" his voice is strained, his control slipping. "walking around all day, knowing i’d bend you over the second we got back. you love it when i use you like this, don’t you, baby?"

"yes," you gasp, legs shaking, nails digging into the net as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. "God, yes, i love it. please, don’t stop."

"not a fucking chance," he growls, his thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own release. "gonna make you cum so hard, baby. gonna fill you up so good."

the words push you over the edge. pleasure crashes over you in violent waves, your entire body clenching around him as you cry out his name. he follows right after, thrusting deep as he spills inside you, his curses lost in the haze of your shared ecstasy.

for a moment, neither of you move, tangled in the aftermath, his lips pressing slow, lazy kisses to the back of your neck.

"happy birthday, baby," he murmurs, voice wrecked, satisfied.

best birthday gift ever. ‹𝟹

tagging my loves <3 @faiszt @cherrygirlfriend @gibson-g1rl

[b1xi]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

Timeskip! Tsukishima Kei x fem reader

Warning: fluff, pregnancy, Vomiting, childbirth

Parte 1

¡Fiebre de embarazo! Tsukishima Kei, quien, cuando le dices que por fin estás embarazada, se queda callado un momento; sus ojos dorados brillan con una mezcla de sorpresa y emoción contenida.

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who has the biggest and brightest smile ever seen on him, one that completely erases his usual serious expression, revealing pure and uncontrollable happiness.

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who hugs you so tightly it almost takes your breath away, his hands trembling slightly as he holds you against his chest, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

Baby fever! Tsukishima Kei, who kisses every inch of your face frantically, not caring how clumsy or desperate it seems, because there’s no way to contain what he feels in this moment.

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who caresses your belly with an unusual tenderness, his fingers gently tracing it as if he can already feel the little life growing inside you.

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who whispers against your skin with a voice full of adoration, "You're amazing, baby... you gave us the best of us."

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who can't stop looking at you with a special gleam in his eyes, as if you're the most precious thing he's ever held, because now you’re not just the person he loves, but the mother of his child.

Babyfever! Tsukishima Kei, who spends the night with one hand on your belly while you sleep, his thoughts revolving around the future, about what it will be like to have a baby with you, all the things he’ll teach them, how he’ll protect his family with everything he has.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who the next morning you find in the kitchen, his cellphone held between his shoulder and ear while he stirs the eggs in the pan with one hand.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, with an uncommon excitement, bluntly says, "Hey, mom, guess what." And before she can answer, he drops the news with a proud smile on his face.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, after hanging up, is already dialing another number because your mom needs to know, his brother has to hear it from his mouth, and of course, Yamaguchi can’t be left out of the list.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who pauses to listen to the excited reaction on the other side of the line, looking at you with a playful gleam in his eyes while you stand half asleep in the doorway.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who can barely focus on finishing breakfast because his mind is too busy imagining what his life will be like now, what it will be like to see you with a round belly, what it will be like to hold his baby in his arms for the first time.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when he finally hangs up and turns to you, looks at you with so much adoration that it almost makes you blush, leaning in for a soft kiss before murmuring against your lips, “I love you.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who can’t help but feel guilty seeing you struggle with pregnancy nausea, his expression hardening with helplessness when he finds you on your knees in the bathroom, holding your hair back as your body trembles from the effort.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, despite not being great at taking care of others, does everything he can to ease your discomfort—airing out the room, fetching cold towels, and rubbing slow circles on your back.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you’re finally able to move away from the toilet, helps you up with the utmost care, holding you against him as if you were made of glass, murmuring softly, “I’m sorry, love… I wish I could do more.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who rushes to the kitchen in search of anything that might calm your stomach—jelly, crackers, yogurt, even a tea he probably made wrong but still offers with the best of intentions.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who sits beside you on the bed while you try to eat something, watching you with silent concern, his brow furrowed because he hates seeing you like this and not being able to do anything more than just be there.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when he notices you turning pale again, picks you up without hesitation and carries you back to the bathroom, holding you without a single complaint, wiping your face with a damp towel, and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you finally manage to rest, stays awake a little longer, caressing your belly with a gentleness that contrasts with his large hands, whispering barely above a breath, “This better be worth it, kid.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who now wants you to go everywhere with him, no matter how insignificant the outing may be.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when he sees you comfortable on the couch, frowns as he puts on his jacket and says, “Aren’t you coming with me?” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who ignores your response when you remind him that “you’re just going to the store” and crosses his arms, waiting for you to get up because, to him, any excuse is good enough to keep you close.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you finally agree to go, walks at a slower pace than usual, making sure you don’t get too tired—though his excuse is that “the weather is nice today.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who always has a hand on the small of your back or holding your wrist, as if he’s afraid you might disappear at any moment.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who makes you sit down anywhere available whenever he thinks you look tired, even if it’s only been ten minutes since you left.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you go shopping, somehow ends up in the baby aisle without even realizing it, looking at everything with an expression that leaves no room for discussion.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you catch him holding a tiny yellow onesie with a dinosaur print, clears his throat and silently places it in the cart without saying a word.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who doesn’t hesitate to fulfill every one of your pregnancy cravings, no matter the time or how ridiculous it might seem to him.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you say you’re dying for ice cream, doesn’t just get one but several different flavors because “I don’t want to have to go out again if you change your mind.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, if you mention missing his homemade meals, drops whatever he’s doing without a complaint and heads to the kitchen, preparing everything with an almost professional level of focus.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you ask for pizza at midnight, sighs and runs a hand through his hair, but he’s already putting on his shirt and looking for his keys. “Babe, it’s almost midnight…” he says, but he still ends up going.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, although he’s always been sarcastic and seemingly indifferent, now seems completely willing to spoil you, no matter how much he denies it.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, if for some reason he can’t get what you want right away, gets more frustrated than he’d ever admit, because he hates seeing you disappointed, even if it’s over a simple craving.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when he finally gets you what you wanted, places it in front of you with a triumphant expression, watching you with satisfaction as you enjoy every bite.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, after satisfying each craving, looks at you with quiet affection, running a hand through your hair as he softly murmurs, “This baby already has me completely at their mercy, huh?”

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who is totally moved by seeing your belly grow, even though he tries to act like it’s not a big deal at first.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, whose first action every morning is to slide a hand over your still-sleepy belly, fascinated by how much it has changed since the last time he touched it.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when he first notices your clothes fitting tighter than usual, falls silent, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of awe and tenderness that he tries to hide.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, if he catches you looking at your reflection with insecurity, approaches without a word, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his large hand resting over you.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who completely freezes the first time he feels a tiny kick, his eyes widening as he looks from your belly to you, searching for confirmation that it really happened.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, after that moment, can’t stop touching you, always using the excuse, “I just want to see if they move again,” when in reality, he’s completely obsessed with feeling every little movement.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who doesn’t hesitate to request paternity leave even though there are still two months until the due date, because nothing is more important than being with you.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, without a second thought, reorganizes his schedule, postpones meetings, delegates responsibilities, and temporarily steps away from team activities because his priority now is you and the baby.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, when you try to insist that you’ll be fine on your own, gives you a look that makes it clear you've already lost that argument. “It’s not negotiable,” he says firmly, without taking his eyes off you.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who becomes a shadow at your side, making sure you don’t make any unnecessary effort, appearing out of nowhere whenever you try to lift something heavy or stand up faster than he deems safe.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who accompanies you to every doctor’s appointment without fail, asking the doctor detailed questions as if he were the one pregnant, ensuring that everything is going perfectly.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who now knows all the prenatal class schedules and attends them without a single complaint, watching every demonstration with absolute concentration because he needs to know exactly what to do when the time comes.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, although he tries to maintain his usual carefree attitude, sometimes gets caught looking at you with a soft, almost reverent expression, as if he can’t quite believe he’s really about to become a father.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who, despite the fact that his past self would have never imagined being in this situation, now can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

Babyfever! Tsukishima, who you thought would be perfectly calm when the time for labor came—after all, he had studied the subject thoroughly, read books, watched videos, and taken notes at every medical appointment. But when the moment arrived, reality was completely different.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, the moment you felt your first strong contraction, froze for a second, as if his brain needed time to process that the moment had finally arrived.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, despite having planned everything, still checks the hospital bag three times before leaving, making sure he hasn’t forgotten anything while trying to hide the slight tremor in his hands.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, even though he wants to stay calm for you, his eyes betray his nervousness as he helps you into the car, his jaw clenched while he drives with extreme focus—like he’s in a championship final.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who can barely stay seated in the delivery room because he needs to move, needs to do something, but the only thing he can do is hold your hand and try to reassure you, even though he’s the one who needs it the most.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, when the contractions intensify and you’re in pain, feels completely helpless—his hand gripping yours tighter than he realized, whispering, “You’re doing great,” even though his own voice sounds unsteady.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, the moment he hears his baby’s first cry, feels his breath hitch, his eyes widening in surprise, and for the first time in his life, he feels like his entire world changes in an instant.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, when they place the baby in his arms for the first time, falls completely silent, staring down in pure awe, looking like an entirely different person.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, with his child in his arms, finally looks at you, and despite himself, his eyes fill with tears as he leans down to kiss your forehead gently. “We did it,” he whispers in a broken voice, as if he still can’t quite believe it.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who can’t stop looking at his baby, absolute adoration shining in his eyes, as if he’s witnessing the greatest miracle of his life.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who arrives home with excitement, carrying his baby straight to the room he prepared with so much care, every detail personally chosen by him to ensure it was perfect for his most precious treasure.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, with a softness you never imagined from him, holds the baby while showing them their crib, the plush toys precisely lined up on the shelves, and the carefully placed mobiles. “Dad even set up your playpen so you can have fun. Do you like it?” he murmurs, though the newborn only responds with a tiny yawn.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, even though he was never very expressive, now constantly talks to his baby in a soft tone, saying things like, “This is where you’ll sleep… or at least try to,” or “I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re always happy, okay?”

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, despite thinking he could just put the baby in the crib and go on with his day, ends up standing beside it, watching them sleep, unable to step away too far.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, when he finally lays the baby down, keeps his hands resting on the crib’s railing, making sure everything is perfect before stepping back—just a little—without taking his eyes off them.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, although he initially mocked the idea of buying a baby monitor with a camera, now checks it every five minutes on his phone, frowning if the baby moves more than usual.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, when he finally lies down beside you, can’t help but reach out to gently touch your hand and whisper, “Thank you… for this, for everything.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima who never forgets about his wife, making sure you take a moment for yourself. Every time he tries to make you rest, he gently reminds you that after carrying the baby for nine long months, you’ve more than earned your well-deserved break.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who organizes everything at home so you don’t have to lift a finger. He tells everyone—from friends to family—that all you need to do is relax, and if you need anything, just say the word.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who becomes an impromptu chef, cooking your favorite meals and bringing them to you, making sure you have everything you need, even if it means losing sleep at night.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who insists you take a nap, even when your mind is full of thoughts about the baby. He looks at you with tenderness and says, “Rest, you deserve it. The baby is fine, and so am I, so just relax.”

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, after a long day full of tasks, prepares a little relaxing routine for you—maybe a warm bath or some soft music—making sure you take time for yourself.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who insists that you bring the baby to every volleyball game he has, securing you the best seats near the court so you don’t miss a single moment of the action.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, upon seeing you arrive with the baby in your arms, can’t help but smile with pride, feeling like every part of his life now has a new meaning. “I want him to see all of this,” he says, looking at the little one who, though too young to understand, is already part of his world.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, while at the match, becomes even more protective, giving you quick glances to make sure you and the baby are okay. When he scores an important point, his eyes light up, but he always returns to you with a gaze full of affection.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who pretends to be indifferent and uninterested when his teammates come over to greet you and the baby, but can't help but show a slight smile as he watches them greet you and how his little son becomes the center of attention. “It’s not like it matters,” he murmurs, but his eyes shine with a glint of pride.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who becomes even more protective when a teammate dares to get too close to the baby. Though his tone is sarcastic, there’s a clear tension in his posture.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, when seeing you smile and enjoy the match with the baby, feels more motivated than ever on the court, looking up to the stands in search of your face after every point.

Babyfever! Tsukishima who, while heading home after a match, can't help but mention how nice it was to have you both there, though he says it in a casual tone, knowing it will make you smile.

[rosierin]

smack me like you'd spike a volleyball │ atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis: title is self explanatory i fear

a/n; guys idk. sometimes an idea pops into my head and i just feel compelled to share it

anyway enjoy this pure brainrot

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :p

(Y/n) hummed, idly scrolling through her phone. “Y’know, I’ve always wondered…”

Atsumu, from across the room, barely looked up from his drink. “That’s dangerous.”

(Y/n) ignored him. “‘Smack my ass like you spike a volleyball’—how hard would that actually be?”

Atsumu choked on his drink. “What!?”

"You heard me," (y/n) said, voice comically serious.

After composing himself a little, Atsumu actually— like actually pondered her words.

"Ya know, I've had a fan tweet that at me before and I don’t think they realise how painful that would be.”

Suna, who had been listening in on the entire conversation, eventually piped up, without so much as a blink. “Isn’t that the point?”

Atsumu pressed on, his tone almost urgent. “No. No, I mean, that shit would really hurt.”

(Y/n) shrugged, then stood up. “Okay, let’s try.”

Atsumu nearly dropped his cup. “You want me to smack yer ass??”

(Y/n) deadpanned. “No, you clown. Slap my hand like you’d spike a volleyball and I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Atsumu stared at her, then at her outstretched hand, then back at her face. “Are ya sure?”

“Yeah.”

“This is really gonna hurt.”

“Stop stalling and slap me already!”

Atsumu groaned, stretching his wrist like he was warming up for Nationals. “Jesus. Alright, woman. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

That was the moment Osamu walked into the room.

He took one look at the scene—(y/n) standing there, hand out, Atsumu poised to slap her like he was about to serve match point in the Olympics.

Osamu blinked. “What is happening.”

Suna barely contained his smirk. “(Y/n) is asking Atsumu to slap her.”

Osamu’s stare turned exponentially more judgmental. “…What.”

Suna shrugged but didn't question it. “Dunno either.”

Atsumu waved a hand at them, then jerked a thumb at (y/n). “Hey, don’t look at me, she’s the freak here.”

Osamu sighed, rubbing his temples like this wasn’t even in his top ten weirdest experiences with them. Meanwhile, Suna casually pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the record button.

(Y/n) rolled her shoulders, steeling herself. “Alright. Moment of truth. Hit me.”

Osamu groaned. “Tsumu, don’t actually hit her—”

Too late.

A loud, cracking smack sliced through the air as Atsumu swung his hand full force against (y/n)’s palm. The sheer impact made the sound echo off the walls.

(Y/n) immediately yanked her hand back, shaking it out furiously. “OW—”

Atsumu looked horrified. “I TOLD YOU, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT—”

(Y/n) fanned her stinging palm. “MY HAND BURNS.”

Osamu stared at them in pure disappointment before shaking his head and walking straight out of the room like he was clocking out of their nonsense.

Meanwhile, Suna, still filming, zoomed in dramatically on (y/n)’s face. “Well?”

(Y/n) flexed her fingers, pain still written over her features. “That actually hurt way more than I thought it would.”

Atsumu scoffed. “I am a literal professional athlete, what on earth did you expect?”

Suna panned his camera to Atsumu. “Subtle flex.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, still shaking her hand. “Okay, athlete. Anyway, I can now confirm that your fangirls do NOT want to get spanked like a volleyball.”

Suna stopped recording, nodding sagely. “Amen.”

Osamu’s voice drifted from the hallway. “Y'all need therapy.”

A beat of silence.

Atsumu grinned at (y/n), waggling his eyebrows. “‘Kay, now turn around, babe. S'time to try out the real deal."

Suna immediately hit record again.

(Y/n) screeched and protected her precious backside.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

[pigfacedbitch]

Second to None

summary : you may be Percy's girlfriend, but not his first choice.

word count : 0.9k

type : imagines

pairing/s : Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson x Daughter of Hades! Reader.

warning/s: angst lol, and a little cliche. never settle for fucking less, guys.

here's my masterlist!

Note : I'm not against Percabeth, just so you know. Or Annabeth, I think she's a badass. I just thought of this and I was like "Damn, did I just hurt myself?" Blue aesthetic since the color represents sadness. It will have a Part 2.

You knew what you were signing up for when Percy Jackson asked you out.

You fell in love with him despite knowing the risks.

The constant danger, the relentless quests, the whispered rumors, the pointed stares whenever you were together— none of it was enough to scare you away. He was the great hero of Olympus, the son of Poseidon who had saved the world twice and continued to do so. Of course, people talked.

And you could handle all of it.

All of it— except one thing.

Annabeth Chase.

You were new to Camp Half-Blood, but not naïve.

You knew, the moment you agreed to be his, that you were stepping into a love story written long before you came along. You weren’t a new chapter. You were just a footnote, scribbled in the margins, fighting for space in a tale that was never yours to begin with.

Even your own brother, Nico di Angelo, had warned you. Everyone did.

They had seen Percy and Annabeth’s story unfold— the rivals turned partners, the friends turned lovers, the two who walked through literal hell together and survived. The kind of love even the gods envied.

"It will only end in heartbreak."

But you ignored them all. Because when Percy pulled you into a fierce kiss after winning a game, when he whispered sweet nothings as you lay beside him, when he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world— it was easy to pretend.

Pretend you didn’t notice the silver owl pendant he kept hidden under his shirt.

Pretend you didn’t see the way his sea-green eyes softened at the mere mention of her name.

Pretend you didn’t feel the hesitation in his touch whenever she was near, or the way he always seemed to be waiting— for something, or someone.

Forget that you were never meant to be his forever. That you were just the one keeping his heart warm until she wanted it back.

And yet, you knew Percy loved you. Maybe not in the way he loves her, maybe not in the way you deserve, but in the only way he knew how.

You never doubted your own worth before. You were the daughter of Hades, powerful in your own right, admired, desired. But with Percy, doubt bloomed inside you like a slow-growing poison.

And you loathed it.

Loving Percy Jackson is your greatest blessing. And your greatest curse.

Annabeth never tried to take him back— not outright.

She didn’t need to.

She moved like the strategist she was— calculated, deliberate, patient. Weaving herself into his life in ways you couldn’t contest.

Inside jokes only they understood.

Touches that lingered just a second too long.

Shared memories and unfinished dreams that whispered, This isn’t over.

She never crossed a line.

She never had to.

Because she was Annabeth Chase. His first love. His best friend. The one who had built a world with him long before you ever arrived.

You were the outsider.

Because Annabeth never really lost Percy.

She had simply let go.

And Percy? He had never truly moved on.

So, you waited for the inevitable. Like an inmate on death row, counting down the days.

Maybe you were still hoping. Hoping he’d look at you and finally see you, not her shadow. Hoping he’d realize that you were the one here, standing beside him, loving him— not better, but differently.

Or maybe you were just a fool who enjoyed her own suffering.

Or an addict who couldn’t let go of her drug, even as it destroyed her.

Then one night, walking through the woods, finding solace in the quiet and darkness, you heard them.

Percy and Annabeth. Sitting on a log beneath the stars, wrapped in the weight of a history you could never rewrite.

"Do you ever think of what could’ve been?" She whispered.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"All the time." Percy admitted, after a long silence. "Annabeth, you know I’ll always—"

She moved closer. Too close. Her fingers brushed against his wrist, and you felt the chill of inevitability run down your spine.

"If I asked for a second chance..." She breathed. "Would you give it?"

You braced for the pain of hearing him say yes, for the final dagger to be driven into your heart.

But he hesitated.

Perseus Jackson, who never think twice in the face of death, hesitated.

But Annabeth didn’t.

Before he could answer, she leaned in, claiming a kiss that had always been hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck like they belonged there.

"Choose me, Percy." She whispered against his lips. "You know it’s always been me. Be with me again."

You turned away before he could kiss her back.

You didn’t need to hear his answer.

You already knew it.

Shadow-traveling to your cabin, you threw a few things into a bag. Nico wasn’t there— probably off with Will— and you were grateful. You weren’t in the mood for questions.

You couldn’t stay long enough for Percy to look at you with guilt-ridden eyes and tell you what you already know.

So you left a note on his nightstand.

"I wish you and Annabeth the best. Don’t let her go this time."

Some might call you a coward for walking away.

But you didn’t care.

Percy had made his choice.

And now, you had made yours.

[linoxpudding]

Midnight Wish- Hwang Hyunjin

summary: you surprise your best friend at midnight for his birthday

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, friendship dynamic

word count: 631 words

a/n: a little drabble for our prince, happy birthday to my precious jinnie baby 💜

Masterlist

*images collected from pinterest*

~°~

Hyunjin sighed, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His apartment felt too quiet tonight. His birthday should have felt special, but his members were scattered across different countries for promotions, and while they had sent messages and promised to call, it wasn’t the same as having them here. He knew they had no choice, but that didn’t stop the empty ache in his chest.

Just as he was about to roll over and bury himself under his blankets, his door swung open.

Changbin strolled in first, holding up his phone, his face illuminated by the screen. “Alright, he’s here!” he announced.

Hyunjin furrowed his brows. “What—”

Before he could finish, you suddenly burst in behind Changbin, nearly tripping over yourself, holding a small cake in one hand and a party whistle in the other.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JINNIE!” you yelled, blowing the whistle right in his face.

Hyunjin recoiled, blinking rapidly. “What the—?!”

“Shhh, just go with it,” Changbin smirked, flipping his phone screen to reveal a video call. On it, the rest of the members were grinning from their respective hotel rooms.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HYUNE!” they all shouted in unison.

Hyunjin blinked, staring at the screen, then at you, then back at the screen. “Wait, what’s happening?”

Felix laughed. “Surprise! We know you were bummed we couldn’t be there, so we made a plan.”

“Y/N’s plan, to be exact,” Seungmin added with a smirk.

Hyunjin turned to you, you were very focused on adjusting the candle on the cake. His heart started beating faster. “You did all this?”

You shrugged, nudging his knee with your own as you sat beside him. “Well, yeah. You looked all sad earlier, and I hate that. So, midnight celebration it is!”

Hyunjin exhaled, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re officially one year older! Now hurry up, make a wish before the candle melts into my masterpiece,” you urged, wiggling in excitement.

Rolling his eyes but smiling, he clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and took a moment before blowing out the candle.

You clapped. “Yay! Happy birthday, bestie!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re more excited than I am.”

“Of course! It’s your special day,” you said, handing him a fork. “So… what did you wish for?”

Hyunjin smirked, picking up a bite of cake. “I can’t tell you. If I do, it won’t come true.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, nudging him. “I'm your best friend– your bestest friend, you can whisper it in my ear.”

He chuckled, nudging you back. “Tempting, but no.”

You playfully squinted at him, then shrugged. “Fine, fine, keep your secrets.”

Hyunjin just smiled, looking at you fondly. 

“I bet it’s something dumb like ‘I wish I had more sleep’ or ‘I wish I was even more handsome,’” Minho teased.

Jisung snorted. “That second one sounds right.”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head. But when his gaze fell back on you—still holding his cake, still looking at him like he was the most important person in the world—he felt something shift in his chest.

It wasn’t just the surprise or the cake—it was the way you cared for him, the way you sneaked into his apartment at midnight just to make him smile, the effortless way you lit up his worst days, and the way you sat beside him now, completely unaware that you were his whole world.

His fingers brushed against yours, and for a second, he thought about saying it out loud—about finally telling you what he had been holding onto for so long, what he had wished for as he blew out the candles.

But instead, he just smiled to himself, his heart full, as the wish echoed in his mind:

You in my life, forever, is my wish.

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

Taglist:

@kaiyaba @lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world

[aidensolas]

STORED DATABASE (1) - A Forsaken Fic

Heya so I decided to keep writing as the conclusion I reached was just people being people like to ruin things that other people like due to hate. I want to say I might be distancing myself away from knowing about these types of things and just focus on what makes me happy. Enjoy the chapter!

Okay so you already pinched yourself 3 times and it seems like you aren't waking up so it's probably a lucid dream.

Anyways you might be wondering what's happening? Right John Doe and Elliot sitting neatly on your bed as John Doe looks at Elliot confused and staring at your figure he shrugs and looks around commenting on your room "Nice Room... for a runt." You held out your hand in a pointing motion and pointed it at John Doe which he responded to holding up his hands well... a hand and a spike up in a defeated motion "Can't take a playful 'poke'..." He said in a joking manner "So uhm... Hey? Where are we exactly?" Elliot suddenly piped in as you thought about the situation what's happening right now as you paced back and forth between the door of your room.

Okay so you might be wondering what exactly happened after they appeared in your bedroom? Well, I'm your mind! Here to recount things you never needed to remember again... So as they appeared in your room a series of silly events happened that involved John Doe trying to murder you and Elliot which was scary in itself then suddenly as he tried to pierce your stomach with his giant spike he suddenly got flung into the wall of your bedroom knocking down some shelves and cabinets full of your precious well... Whatever you keep in those as you were more scared about your home you realized the things once destroyed started to rearrange itself in a neat manner not knowing what to do you made up a bluff that no one can do anything in this house without your permission and if you break a rule you immediately get punished via getting ragdolled into walls which to your Suprise both Elliot and John Doe believed so now they're both setting on your bed.

Back to the current time! As you completely ignored Elliot's questioned (Rude.) "So where are you guys from and how did you guys exactly... Arrive here?" You asked not like you didn't know already you just thought that having prior information about them without them knowing who you are is weird so might as well keep the appearance that you don't know them.

"Ask the twerp beside me." John Doe nudged Elliot beside him "I can barely remember anything besides killing them over and over again." To which Elliot replied with a nervous laugh as John Doe nudged him "Well! About that it's uh... Hard to explain if you can give me some tim-" You raised your hand in front of Elliot before he could ramble on "No need. You don't need to explain if you aren't ready yet... Anyways would you kindly lea-" You got interrupted as well. Karma's a bitch ain't it? You heard the door open behind you as you quickly looked to turn around to see someone peeking in, wait is that Noob?... Dear God.

Okay you tap your foot in hurry as you paced around your main living room which was enough to accommodate the whole Forsaken cast including the out of place Mafioso who just randomly decided to show up despite being a variation skin of c00lkidd. Chance piped up seeing you walking around the room in a hurry as a coping mechanism of how your life is ruined now. "Hey... Uh your name whatever mind you settle down?" Okay you gather your thoughts and say down sighing as Builderman started to talk "This might be stressful and surprising to see various people you don't know inside your home and people with alarming looks to top it off of." he said as he discreetly looked at killers who were surprisingly not murdering anyone at the moment not like they can but you're surprised an attempt hasn't been made considering some things. "But we mean no harm and we would like to not bother you but when we tried to leave the front door a random pop-up would appear saying that we don't have access to do so. Would you happen to know anything about it?" Then Shedletsky decided to squeeze in a comment that's stated in a lighthearted joking manner "Who would wanna leave anyway have you seen this house?" Builderman replied by quickly stomping on his foot which made him wince as he grumbled "Okay... Okay... I get it." You squeeze your eyes shut as you cover your face with your hands as you resist the urge to cry into them. "I tried it as well. It said I can't open the door for at least another 7 days. First things first who are you guys." Yeah, you aren't asking them you were demanding an answer.

As they all introduced each other you quickly gave them their own lodgings and places to stay good thing you have a lot... Well, more than enough guest rooms to accommodate them since it was relatively late anyway you were preparing to sleep before you felt a tap behind you which revealed to be Dussekar "In my own lair, where dreams take flight, can I wield the brush to color my night?" What is bro saying? You thought about it for a second then realized he meant if he could decorate his own room to which you replied to "Go ahead it's all yours anyway for the time being." He nodded promptly before slowly floating away into his own room and closing the door. This is going to be a long week.

After waking up and feeling shit like always you decided to do your daily routine and as you leave your room you see Chance on the side of your door as you stumbled upon him he immediately takes your hand into his and drags you somewhere "Hey you never told me you had this." He said with a chuckle "Had what?" He then reaches a door to which he opens which reveals a whole ass casino. Wait... What. The. Hell. "Right and in case you forgot the name's Chance the best gambler you'll ever see." He said with pride as he closed his eyes striked a cool pose and flipped a coin the coin landed it rolling tails did make it a bit silly, but you won't ruin his day so you didn't mention it as he hid the coin, you nervously laughed to see people working inside the casino yet no other gamblers or people are present. "Yeah... I totally had this since the start, but you never asked, nor do we totally know each other... Haha.haha." to which then Chance looks back at you saying " That's fair but... Wanna go round all the people up and have a nice fun day in the casino? Well, it's yours so it wouldn't be a problem to treat us, right?" You never owned a casino, so you have no idea, but you felt like you were about to faint but, you gave Chance a giant totally not fake smile. "Sure, go ahead! Go call them up I'll treat all of you to some fun." Chance wasted no time bolting out the door and probably waking everyone up to drag them into this. You glanced at one of the workers who noticed you and it seemed to be the same people who you would see in a Roblox game but humanized or some sort... The worker stared at you and waved giving a small smile. Yeah.

This is definitely going to be a long week.

Notes:

Guys I'm sick so I couldn't promise the bulk of chapters I've written but most of it is done anyway so expect day by day and a random two-time x reader to pop up one day. Excuse my writing if it's on the wobbly side as I said I feel like absolute bunz anyways hope you enjoy this chapter. I wonder what happens next, I totally can't see into the future or anything, but I think it's going to be a casino chapter...

TAGLIST (raaaah)

@brain4stew @yukinaabutlazy @ilikedrinkingsoda @oniadopts @no-hearts-included @haveneulalie

Random note: Why do I feel like John Doe and Builderman would be great at telling Dad Jokes...