#and i'm rather pleased with how it turned out

[atleastpleasetelephone]

NYMPHO ELVIS.

A/N: Hilariously, according to the dictionary nymphomania only refers to excessive sexual desire in a woman. That seems kinda sexist to me, since it suggests any about of sexual desire in a man is perfectly normal. So I'm disregarding the dictionary 🤣

Also, someone else asked me for nympho BDE (all in caps, I wonder if you are the same anon?) and I'm not going to write both I'm afraid. I think BDE would be too tired to be sex-obsessed, he'd rather curl up in his jammies.

One more time

Pairing: 1969!Elvis x reader

Word count: 714

TWs: Overstimulation, praise kink, reader has been/is crying, general smut, Elvis refers to himself as Daddy. Also Elvis is sex-obsessed, if that wasn't already clear.

“C’mon baby, jus’ one more,” Elvis pleads, his head still between your legs. 

You’re sweating, moaning, exhausted on the bed. “I c-can’t El… I’m… oh…” 

You’re not making sense anymore, either. He’s trying to coax a fourth orgasm out of you but your body is wrecked. Your pussy is puffy and sore and every time he touches you now the combination of pleasure and overstimulation threatens to cut your brain completely free of its moorings. 

“Yes ya can. C’mon. You’re my good girl.”

Whining, you twist your body away from him but he’s not having it, pressing your belly down firmly with one big hand whilst he abuses your clit with the other. He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. He’s like a vampire, desperate to feed on your pleasure. He’s already cum twice and he can feel himself getting hard again just watching you like this. He’s smeared your lipstick across your face with his sloppy kisses, your hair is a mess and your mascara is running down your cheeks with the tears that slide down them. 

“‘S too much, El. Please.”

He can’t help it. He just wants you too much, all the time. He starts to wonder about pushing his half-hard dick inside you again when he hears your breath hitch and looks at your face to see your eyes widening in surprise. 

“Oh, God!” You exclaim, as another orgasm hits you. You didn’t think it was possible, but he is determined. 

His mouth curls into a grin. “I told ya you could, baby.”

Lying down beside you, he cups your cheek gently in his hand. “Good girl. Now let’s have one more for Daddy.”

Your surprised eyes are back as he takes your hand and wraps it around his dick. It hardens a little more in your firm grip, but you’re not sure you can make him cum again. You thought men only came once and then fell asleep. But Elvis is clearly different. 

As you move your hand on him, gathering pace, it’s his turn to feel the complicated interaction of pleasure and pain, overstimulation and soreness threatening to override any kind of pleasant feelings now. But he wants it. He wants another. He’s sure he can do it. 

“El, you want me to stop?” You ask after several minutes. He’s still half-hard and his breathing is irregular, but he doesn’t seem any closer than he did before. 

His eyes had been squeezed shut in concentration, trying desperately to will another orgasm out of himself, but now they spring open again and stare at you. 

“If I wanted ya ta stop honey, I’d say.” He takes your other hand and moves it to his balls. “Here. Squeeze.”

You do as you’re told, squeezing as you carry on jerking him, watching his face contort with a mixture of pleasure and something else entirely. Being with Elvis is exhausting. He wants you all the time. It’s gratifying and exciting, but sometimes you’re sore and you want to just cuddle. He never shows any signs of wanting to rest, and you’re sure that he’s with other girls too. You can’t quite understand how one man can have such an insane libido. 

“Shit,” he mutters, his hand wrapping around yours to help you squeeze his shaft more tightly and move on him more quickly. “Yes… yes… ohhhh… keep goin’ honey, Daddy’s almost there.”

There’s not much chance of you stopping, since he’s got such a strong grip on your hand, but you nod and take the opportunity to press lazy kisses to his skin as his moans get more insistent. 

“Oh yeah… that’s it honey…” 

He lets go of your hand as a tiny amount of cum leaks out of the head, flopping back on the bed in exhaustion. Until a few seconds ago it seemed like he’d been contracting every single muscle in his body as he tried with all his might to orgasm again. It’s a relief to stop, though the feeling of ecstasy is so addicting. 

You curl your body around his, and kiss his shoulder. 

“Feel good, Daddy?” You ask, sweetly. 

He smiles back at you sleepily. “Real good honey.” You relax, thinking about sleeping soon, and then you hear him speak again. “For now…”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2 @18lkpeters

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Teacher's Pet Baby

Cg!Professor!Wanda Maximoff x little!student!reader

Summary: You've pushed yourself a little too far when feeling sick at school and Wanda won't stand for it.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Age regression, sick fic, mentions of medicine and having to take it, fluff and comfort

Authors notes: I'm sick, so here have a sick fic

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

You barely make it to your seat, sinking into the chair as quietly as possible while the chatter of your classmates fills the lecture hall. Their voices feel too loud, and the room feels impossibly warm despite the fever patch hidden beneath your beanie, and even though you took medicine earlier, it’s barely making a dent now.

Professor Maximoff notices immediately.

Her sharp green eyes sweep over the class as she prepares to start, but they linger on you just a moment longer than necessary. As the students settle down, she steps closer to your desk, lowering her voice so only you can hear.

"You're not feeling well," she states rather than asks.

You sit up straighter, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, Professor. Just tired. I took medicine, and I’ve got a fever patch under my beanie. It’s nothing, really."

Wanda’s lips press into a thin line, unconvinced, but she knows how stubborn you can be—especially when it comes to school.

Developmental Psychology is your last class of the day, and she understands how brutal the coursework is, not just from her own class but from the other professors as well.

After a pause, she sighs. "Alright," she concedes. "But if it gets worse, let me know."

You nod, relieved that she’s letting you stay. She gives you one last look before turning to begin the lecture.

Halfway through, however, Wanda’s concern grows.

You’re struggling to keep up, blinking slowly at the board, your posture slumping more and more as time drags on. Your face is becoming more flushed, your breathing shallow, and you’re practically nodding off in your seat.

That’s enough.

She sets down her marker and claps her hands once. "Alright, everyone, let's take a ten-minute break."

There’s a collective sigh of relief as students stretch, pull out their phones, or head for the door. As Wanda steps out of the room, your phone vibrates in your lap.

Mama 🧸: I'm going to come back into class in a rush, say something came up, and end for the evening. Meet me at my car, okay?

You stare at the message, eyes bleary, but manage to type a simple:

You: Okay.

A few minutes later, just as promised, Wanda rushes back in, looking convincingly flustered.

"Class, I’m so sorry—something urgent just came up. We’re ending for the evening. Check the portal for notes and assignments. I’ll see you all next time."

There’s a mix of murmurs—some students thrilled at the early dismissal, others confused—but they all start packing up. You move slower than usual, dizzier than before, but you make your way out the door.

The evening air is cool against your overheated skin as you spot Wanda waiting beside her car, her arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on her face.

"You’re too stubborn for your own good," she mutters as you approach. Before you can protest, she opens the passenger door. "Get in. I’m taking you home."

You don’t argue. You’re too exhausted, too.

And as soon as you’re settled in the seat, Wanda sighs again, softer this time. "Next time, just tell me when you’re sick, Malyshka. I’d rather help you than watch you push yourself like this."

You hum in response, eyelids already drooping.

✎✐ ✎ ✐ ✎ ✐

The warmth surrounding you is comforting, familiar in a way that makes your mind slip before you even realize it’s happening. You blink groggily, feeling weightless, and it takes a moment for you to register why—strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you securely against a firm chest.

Your head lolls slightly, and a soft hum vibrates beneath your cheek. "There you are, my sleepy munchkin," Wanda murmurs. Her voice is low, soothing, the kind of tone she only ever uses when it’s just the two of you.

Your fingers twitch, instinctively seeking something to grasp, and without hesitation, she adjusts her hold so you can curl into her more. "Mama…" you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

She shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your hair as she carries you to the front door of her house. "Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just rest."

You let out a soft whimper, your body too achy and feverish to fight the little space creeping in, especially with how safe she makes you feel. "Didn’ mean to be little," you mumble, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Wanda chuckles, shifting you slightly as she unlocks the door. "I know, baby. But you don’t have to be big with me right now. You’re sick, and Mama’s going to take care of you."

A tiny, tired pout forms on your lips. "Didn’t wanna be a ‘burrden…”

She tuts softly, carrying you straight to the couch and sitting down with you still cradled in her lap. "Never a burden, my love. You’re my Malyshka, no matter what."

The reassurance makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with the fever. Your small hands clutch at her button up as you burrow into her warmth, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. "Love Mama…" you whisper, voice slurred with exhaustion.

The warmth of Wanda's embrace lulls you into a half-dazed state, but you're still aware enough to feel her shift beneath you. Her gentle touch never falters as she rubs your back, her voice soft as she murmurs, "Let's get you cleaned up and comfy, sweetheart. You’ll feel much better after a nice cool bath."

You whimper softly, curling tighter against her. "No wanna move…"

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I know, baby, but Mama will help. You don't have to do anything, just let me take care of you, okay?”

With slow, steady movements, she carries you into the bathroom, setting you down on the closed toilet lid as she kneels in front of you. Her fingers are delicate as she peels away your beanie, revealing the fever patch still clinging to your forehead. She hums in approval. "You did so good taking care of yourself today, my love. But now it’s my turn."

She helps you out of your clothes, guiding you carefully into the warm, soothing bath she’s already drawn. The heat immediately eases some of the aches in your body, and a sleepy sigh escapes you as she begins washing your hair, her fingers massaging your scalp in slow, comforting motions.

"Such a good little munchkin," she praises, tilting your head back just enough to rinse the suds away without getting any in your eyes. "Mama's so proud of you."

You hum at the words, your mind fully slipping into little space under her tender care. By the time she’s rinsing off the last of the bubbles, your limbs are loose and pliant, letting her wrap you in a soft towel and carry you back into the bedroom.

"Look what I got for you," she coos, holding up a pair of adorable Bluey pajamas. Your eyes light up at the sight, and she chuckles at your tiny, excited wiggle. "I knew you'd like these, baby.”

She dresses you with ease, guiding your little arms and legs through the soft fabric before pulling the sleeves down and smoothing them over your skin. Once you're dressed, she settles you onto the bed and disappears for a moment, only to return with a small plastic bottle in her hand.

Your nose scrunches up at the sight. "Noooooo," you whine, trying to turn your head away.

Wanda tuts, sitting beside you with a knowing smirk. "Oh, don't give me that look, munchkin. You need your medicine so you can feel all better."

You shake your head, pressing your lips together in a pout. "Tastes yucky.”

Her sea glass eyes soften, and she shifts closer, cupping your cheek as she gently strokes her thumb along your warm skin. "I know, munchkin, but Mama's got something to make it better."

With her free hand, she holds up a sippy cup, the one she always keeps just for you. Your favorite juice sloshes inside, the sight making your pout waver.

"Take your medicine for Mama, and you can have your sippy, okay?" she coaxes.

You hesitate, but when she brings the little plastic cup of grape-flavored liquid to your lips, you wrinkle your nose and take it anyway, swallowing quickly with a dramatic shudder.

"Bleh!”

Wanda chuckles, immediately pressing your sippy cup into your hands. "Such a brave baby," she praises, watching as you eagerly take a few gulps of the sweet juice to wash away the taste.

Once you’re settled, she reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing your favorite stuffie—your beloved, well-worn plush that she always makes sure is close by. "Here, my love," she murmurs, tucking it into your arms.

You cling to it, already feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you back down. Wanda leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before lying beside you, pulling you into her embrace. Her fingers stroke lazily up and down your back, her presence grounding and warm.

"Sleep, munchkin," she whispers, her voice the last thing you hear as your eyes flutter shut. "Mama’s right here.”

And with that, you let yourself drift off, safe and loved in her arms.

[aninipanin1]

How about Young manager with ADHD (continuously gets lost within Blue Lock, interrupts Ego using the PA system (accidentally) about trivial things, misplaces objects, rather naive etc),,, lol

LOST SHEEP

Notes: I personally do not have ADHD and my knowledge about it is quite small, so please forgive me if I misrepresent it here! I do not have any intentions of doing so, and if I do make some mistakes, please let me know! I am genuinely interested in being much more knowledgeable about this topic. Thank you!

"Y/n-chan...? What are you doing there..?"

Hiori asked, blinking at the rather bizarre scene in front of him. The midfielder just finished his daily training routines when he stepped inside of the laundry room to place his laundry basket.

But when he did walk in, he found their precious manager crouched down, hugging your legs as your eyes focused intensely at the small window of the washing machine, eyes boring at the spinning clothes inside the contraption.

In fact, you were too focused to even notice or hear the music of the other machines that alerted the room about how the process was done. You were just sitting there, staring, eyes blinking rarely, as if the rotation of the washing machine was a rare circus show to your eyes.

Everyone in the facility knew of your...tendencies and are more than understanding and ready to help you return your attention to whatever you were currently doing. Hiori was no different as he approached your crouched figure and lightly held your shoulder to take your attention back, but he made sure to be gentle enough to not scare you.

"Y/n-chan, earth to Y/n-chan. Are you okay?" He said in the softest voice he can muster, his hands supporting your crouched figure that almost lost its balance. You looked a bit dazed still from your previous episode, blinking at the sudden interruption. Turning to the blue-haired player, you tilted your head.

"Hiori-kun? What are we doing here...? What's happening?"

"Everything is fine, Y/n-chan. You just got a bit distracted with the washing machine." He explained, raising one of his hands to your hair, softly patting it in a comforting manner. He guided you up from your position and helped with the laundry that had long been done.

"Oh, I didnt notice that the rest were done..." you said in realization, looking at the washing machine with wide eyes. Hiori, who could not help himself, pinched one of your cheeks.

"Its fine, let's just get the rest of the laundry and hang it up, yeah?"

'Geez, she's too cute to be even real...' he inwardly gushed.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Ego said, glaring at a worried Anri the moment he received the news. Apparently, you have been missing for more than an hour now, with no one from any stratum knowing where you were or even seeing you pass by.

"I'm a little worried. We all know how she gets when she's super distracted."

Ego sighed, rubbing his temple and not even adjusting his glasses that fell off the bridge of his nose. Out of everyone in there, he knew, especially how you can get. Being the one you always worked alongside with, there were times when you would be too focused on something trivial like a moving object or a rather miniscule detail that you would end up forgetting everything you were currently and supposed to be doing.

Now, most of the time, he encourages this. Ego cannot count how many times you ended up helping him and the players as a whole because your fixations on even the most minute of details always ended up being the root cause of a problem.

Hence, why, starting then, he always trusted your mini hyperfixations, no matter how dumb it may sound. You were naive, yes, but you are also a genius, something most people around you know of. So, early on, Ego trusted these said instincts and fixations and revolving them into something that would benefit everybody.

However, there are times like these where those hyperfixations end up disadvantageous. Somehow, you always get lost in the worst times in the worst places possible. Once, the whole facility literally had to work together in order to find you, only for Niko to find you crawling around the storage room near the cafeteria, chasing a ladybug that got your attention while you tried to find your way around the facility again.

There was no time for that kind of thing, however, seeing as to how the day after tomorrow was the last games for the Neo Egoist League, and the staff desperately needed to arrange everything and anything under the sun to make sure the games and livestream are all smooth sailing.

And, they definitely needed you, the overall manager of the teams, there.

"What do we do, Ego-san?"

"I'll look around in my cameras. Try to find her in the usual spot and rooms she crawls and runs on, or those rooms that have a lot of things she can fidget with." He sighed, feeling so done with everything that happened that day.

"Okay. I'll ask help from the rest of the staff."

Just as they were about to start looking for you though, the PA system was suspiciously turned on.

"Huh? It's not even 12 in the noon yet."

Anri said, confused, but all their questioning were answered when they heard the loud feedback of the mic before hearing small scratches and fidgeting noises in the mix. There were even times when they heard some buttons being pushed about. Ego sighed again, but it felt more like a breath of relief.

"That's her. Get that problem child and bring her here." Ego said, spinning his chair to face the cameras. And would you know it, when he went back through the CCTV cameras' previous footages, he saw you in the PA room, fidgeting with the buttons of the system. If he were to be honest, he felt a huge sigh of relief that you were not doing anything that may have harmed you of sort.

After a few minutes, Anri opened the door to his office but alongside her was Don Lorenzo who was smirking as he held you by the scruff of your jacket. Carrying you like a lost kitten, while you only blinked at the predicament you were in, constantly asking Anri about what you were supposed to do again and just babbling stories to Lorenzo and Anri.

"The lost sheep is here." He said, bringing you on the ground as carefully as he could, nodding along to whatever you said about how microphones actually worked and how you were just curious and wanted to experiment if your knowledge and hypothesis were actually real or whatever your mind was thinking about currently.

"Y/n." Ego said a bit sternly, making you stop talking as you looked at the man.

"Try to bring someone with you when you go on your little adventures sometimes." He said before turning his swivel chair once again to face the many monitors, turning his back to you.

"Okay, Ego-san!" You cheered happily, not even bothered about what had just transpired as you went back to your notebook to continue writing and working.

'This girl is going to be the death of me. This is why I don't want kids.' Ego thought, shaking his head.

"Rin-kun. Have you seen Mr. Boba?"

"Hah?"

Rin said, his usual frown in his face. But, this was more of a frown of confusion. He knew you had the habit of naming normal objects with names you found either fitting or adorable, by your standards of course. So, when you approached the striker about a supposed 'Mr. Boba,' he had no idea what the hell you were even looking for.

"Mr. Boba! He has tons of dots that's why he's Mr. Boba." You insisted, your face in a frown because you can't find what you were looking for at all and it was starting to thin your patience a bit.

"Look, I don't know what your Mr. Boba is. What even is it? Is it a hairpin of a boba, or a keychain?" Rin asked. He really did want to help you find Mr. Boba, but you were not exactly helping your case as you kept insisting Mr. Boba was Mr. Boba.

That was until Karasu and Shidou entered the field that helped him and you.

"Y/n-chan! Hi! Why are you sad?!" Shidou asked as he jumped to hug you, before frowning himself, not liking that you were clearly upset by the look at the frown on your face.

"What's wrong, Y/n-chan?" Karasu added, patting your hair.

"Did Rinrin over here make you sad? I'll beat him up for you if you want, Y/n-cha-"

"Shut the fuck up, lukewarm idiot. I didn't do crap." Rin intercepted Shidou, feeling the veins on his head pop.

"No, no, Shidou-san. I just can't find Mr. Boba. What do I do? I need him." The frown on your face deepened into a pout. Karasu was confused as hell who was this Mr. Boba you were talking about. He turned to Rin, who only glared at him.

"I dont know who the hell her Mr. Boba is."

But, Shidou seemed to understand who your Mr. Boba was as the grin on his face widened and he pulled your phone out from your jacket pocket and extended it to your hand.

"Mr. Boba!" You cheered happily at the phone.

"Silly Y/n-chan. It was in your pocket all along!" Shidou said as he pinched your cheeks and stretching it. Meanwhile, Karasu and Rin were just left confused to the side, wondering how the hell was a phone comparable to a boba.

"That's Mr. Boba? What the hell. I don't see it." Karasu commented, but Shidou only stuck his tongue out at both of them.

"You all are blind losers. Can't you see the phonecase design? It has black circles in the bottom and since its a clear case, you can see the (f/c) of the phone! So its like boba." Shidou explained, pointing out the small design of the phone that somehow made it look like a boba in both your and his eyes.

"Yeah! Like Shidou-san said!" You cheered as you hugged the male, thanking him sweetly for helping you find your Mr. Boba.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Rin said, facepalming as Karasu just laughed.

"Shut the hell up, Rin-rin! You can't say that to Y/n-chan!!!"

"Who said I was also talking about her?"

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Since everyone in the Blue Lock facility found out about your disorder, they became much more protective of you overall.

You are waiting in line for food? No, youre not. Everyone is letting you get your food first.

You have bad time management? They'd help with that. They'll be your personal alarm clock.

You are feeling so bored and want to fidget with something? They'd let you play with their hands while they listened to Ego's damn lectures.

It's all about maintaining your attention span yet enabling you to become a better person as a whole. To improve your mental health and also make you feel that you are more than your disorder.

But, of course, they can't help but spoil you every once in a while. No biggie!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[shoukokus]

Hello! Can you please write Vil with a crush on someone (preferably fem) who likes more “masculine” activities; like wrestling, rugby, weightlifting, etc (definitely not bc I do those sports). Thank you!!! 🩷🩷🩷

I love this! So cute

Vil Schoenheit

Vil doesn't know how this happened. He was high-end! Beauty oriented, grace above all else, and maintain an air of refinement. So how in the Great Seven did he fall for someone so rowdy?!

It defied all logic, but reason seemed to escape him when it came to you. He could be strictly instructing a dance course, the graceful art of ballet obviously, when he sees you. In the corner with Epel, wrestling him to the ground. It should make Vil outraged! But instead he's fixated on the way your muscles contract with each movement.

It must have taken time and discipline to get them like that... So taut and firm. Beautiful in its own way...

"Are you all right, dorm leader?" Someone asks him, pulling Vil out of his thoughts.

"Of course I'm fine," he snaps in response. "Another 30 minutes of practice for everyone."

Some time later, Epel is drowning in homework and extra assignments given by Vil. At one point during this, the younger boy timidly tells Vil that he had an alchemy project with none other than you. He had done his part, but now it needed to be delivered so it can be completed. His dorm leader doesn't want Epel to fail, right?

Vil snatches the papers and box up with feigned annoyance.

When he arrives at your door and knocks, you don't answer but he does hear loud music inside. You probably wouldn't have heard him, so he lightly pushes it open.

Down the end of the hallway in the living room, he sees you and freezes on the spot. Wearing loose workout clothing, you're lifting weights that looked... rather heavy, to say the least. It's infuriating how stunning you look, so perfectly in your element. Doing something that compliments you so well.

He clears his throat, determined not to let this fluster him, and approaches you. When you finally see him, you send him a wide smile that nearly sends him into panic mode.

A week or so later is the final straw.

Vil spots you from across the courtyard at lunchtime. It was a lovely day, and a lot of students were outside enjoying it. You're with most of the Spelldrive team, talking animatedly and laughing. Even Leona seems to be enjoying the conversation, although it was hard to tell while he lounged on a bench.

While it was unclear what was said to spark it, you and Ruggie were suddenly squaring off. It was playful and kind of... cute, but that does not diminish how easily you got him to the ground. Your technique had obviously been honed, and came from some kind of sport, but Vil couldn't pinpoint it.

After the two of you removed yourselves from each other, you went back to laughing and brushing grass off. Vil has had just about enough. He marched up to you and your little group.

"Come with me, now." Vil told you, eyes boring into yours.

The others looked at you with sympathy, assuming that you were about to be chewed out for starting a ruckus or some such. You followed, shoulders tight, worried about your fate.

When the two of you had reached a private spot, Vil turns to you. He has a slight flush on his face as he begins to speak. "You are rowdy. Your hobbies are reckless, and entirely ill-suited to my tastes." You open your mouth to protest, but he holds up a finger dangerously close to your lips. "Yet I still find myself enchanted by you. The way you are... the way you carry yourself. It is unbelievably mesmerizing. Allow me to take you on a date."

A smile had been slowly growing on your face as he spoke, while the blush on his also increased.

"I'd love that, Vil."

Requests are open!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three's a Crowd 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You’re offered a deal without all the details.

Note: happy friday

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your eyes stray to the table of cookies again. In the rush of days, blending together with back to back shifts and disparate hours of sleep, you lost track of yourself. When you finally thought to eat, you found an empty cupboard and just as desolate bank account. Rent, electricity, all that ate away at your already leaking reservoir.

Your stomach grumbles and you clasp your hands together, pushing on your middle to ease the clenching. You're so hungry you can barely focus on Caroline. You blink and make yourself listen. You don't want to be disrespectful.

If Kelsey is on shift tonight, she'll let you snag a bag of fries at least. Not the best meal, but something.

You feel weak the more you think about food. A bit dizzy. As you push your shoulders back, your eyes meet another pair. Steve smiles at you from behind his square glasses. You rock and give a sheepish grin.

You do your best to stay alert. You have a half-shift after this and you're not sure how you'll get through. You should have skipped today.

When at last the session lets out, you hurry to join the line, checking your phone for the time. You don't want to miss the bus.

"Working after?" Steve startles you as you shuffle up the table and reach for a cookie. The white macadamia are your favourite. You keep from scarfing it down as you so desperately want to.

"Um, yes," you reply.

"Bus?" He takes a cookie and bites into it with a hum. You're salivating.

"Yeah," you cough. "I should go catch it."

You wrap your cookie in a napkin and step out of queue. He follows.

"Would you like a ride?" He offers.

You nearly trip, "oh no, I couldn't. That's so kind though."

"I don't mind." He drawls. "You work a lot?"

"I guess. But really, you don't have to--"

"You look as if you might fall asleep on the bus," he muses.

"Oh, no, I'm... fine."

"Well, I do hate to keep you then but I hoped to speak with you about something."

"Me?" You utter in surprise.

"Yes, well, we all know each other here. I just thought... well, we all seem rather lonely, don't we?"

"Sure, uh," you look down at the cookie then him. "Alright, I'll take the ride. Can I give you some change for gas."

"Please, don't you even fret," he waves you off.

He follows you to the door and holds it open. You go ahead of him and nibble on the cookie, unable to resist anymore. He points you across the lot to the same car he drove past your window. The memory makes you cringe.

You stop outside the passenger door and chew furiously. He climbs in the other side, "coming?"

"I don't want to get crumbs in your car."

"No worry, please. It's cold."

You look down at your sweater. You're shivering. You're not so much used to the bluster as done fighting it. You cover the cookie and put it in your pocket. You dust off your chest and hands before you get in.

He turns the engine as you buckle your seat belt. A smooth hum rolls through the car. It's so nice you feel as if you might mess it up just by looking.

"Um, so," you begin as he backs out. "What did you want to talk about? I hope... when I asked about your wife, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh no, that's what these meetings are, right? We're supposed to talk about all that." He steers and glances over at you. "I appreciated you asking. You're a really sweet girl, you know that?"

'Sweet girl.' The way he says it makes you feel even small. That and how big he is. "Thanks, Steve..."

"I was only thinking. About you," he keeps one hand on the wheel as he leans his other elbow on the arm rest. "Working in that window. Two jobs, you said?"

"Yeah, one's only part-time."

"Still a lot." He remarks.

"But er, well, it's not... you don't need to worry about it."

"I do," he insists.

"Why, uh, well, we don't really know each other." You say as you peer put the window, your words sending a chill through you. You don't know much about Steve and you're in his car.

"I know you work hard. I know things have changed a lot for you since your grandmother passed. And you know how I understand that. That I'm going through the same..."

"Yeah, everyone in the group, I guess, um," you babble dumbly.

"I was only thinking... well, you lost more than your grandmother. You lost a whole life. You've had to adapt a lot more than the rest of us." He pauses and your stomach growls loudly. You wince. "Is that cookie all you've had?"

You shrug, "Steve, I hope... I hope you don't think I'm that helpless."

"Helpless, no, but we could all use help from time to time." He slows as he rolls into the lot of the fast food restaurant. The ride was a lot quicker than the bus. "Which is what I'm offering. Help."

"Ah, oh," you sink. "Is it that obvious?"

"You had a nice wool coat a month ago. You didn't have to fight to stay awake. You... spoke a lot more--"

"Right," you sniff. "It's nice of you to offer but I gotta learn to do things on my own now."

"Do you?" He angles in his seat. "Sweetie, it's no big deal."

"It is to me. I don't even know-- what is it? A job? You know I don't have a degree."

"Mmm, no," he pokes the tip of his tongue out and looks away. "Not a job, but... it isn't safe for you to be taking the bus so late. And definitely not good to be sitting in that cold window for hours."

"Steve, please, you're embarrassing me."

"I... I don't mean to so I'll be honest. I lost my wife, I miss her terribly. And you lost the person who took care of you. So we could... help each other fill that void."

You squint at him then your phone. You have ten minutes. You sigh.

"I don't know--"

"I am trying to be delicate here but... there's men who pay for girls like you. They pay a lot."

"What?" Your voice cracks. "You-- I'm not a prostitute. I--" you pull on the door handle but it doesn't budge. "Let me out. I can't believe-- I never even-- how--"

"I know you haven't before. Which is what I'm saying. I'll pay to be your first--"

You turn to him and hit his arm, "that's...wrong."

"I know. I'm just so... I would make it special, sweetie."

He reaches for you and you push yourself against the car door. Your eyes prick and you swat his hand away. You're humiliated that he would even think you would do that.

"Steve," you reach into your purse and take out a handful of change. You drop it in the cupholder and turn to unlock the door. He touches your shoulder and you shrug him off as you escape. "Thanks for the ride."

[idliketobeatree]

Here is one of the best friends he's made in what seems like forever; she's so open and sweet, beautiful and brilliant. It was inevitable, he thinks, that Niko Sasaki would effortlessly endear herself to Charles like a lost younger sister.

(And that is another story entirely, but not one for Edwin to tell.)

He finds it contradistinctive, Niko Sasaki becoming a new source and the easiest target of Charles' spontaneous, affectionate smiles — different than watching him stumble around Crystal. It's well-nigh surprising just how secure Edwin feels, observing their budding friendship, the phantom echo of it spreading around his chest like a slow warmth from a hearth. He harbours no jealousy or hurt at the frequency with which their more private conversations take place. He does not mind the way Niko wraps her hand around Charles' arm as they walk, not one bit, when his best friend's sole attention is focused on her excited chatter. He can thoroughly relate, after all.

As a matter of fact, Edwin suspects that the only thing he'll have to worry about is stifling an inelegant snort when they're all descending a hill in the middle of a legwork-heavy case and Charles picks Niko up for an impromptu piggyback ride.

"No no no no, put me down!", her voice carries over their heads, but Niko's shrieking protest dies in her throat just as quickly as it came to life, turning into an appreciative whistle at the view. In front of them, Crystal turns on her heel and raises her eyebrows in amusement.

"You're that desperate to be the last at home?"

"Please, we'll be there faster than you lot. Right, Niko?" Charles, ever the multitasker, uses his shrug to adjust the grip on Niko's swaying legs. "Edwin?"

He dares to look in their direction, dreading... precisely double the amount of puppy eyes sent his way. His lips twitch in a helpless smile.

"I must agree. The Charles Express is quite a commendable machine. I would not underestimate it, Crystal."

Charles barks out a laugh. Whatever expression Niko must've had on her face breaks through Crystal's composure; she, too, cracks up, a spring in her step as she turns to walk forward again.

"Can barely feel her, can't I? Lighter than my backpack," Charles says, matter-of-factly.

"It's not a race."

"It could be a race."

"I'm not going to race you down the hill in these platforms, be serious—"

"That doesn't sound like a definite no," Niko pipes in.

"Take them off, then," offers Charles.

Edwin glances up at the orange sun set against the milky autumn sky, to his left; the brightest thing on the horizon. He hears her gasps of delight at Charles' cheeky step through the trunk in their way. Something inside him has been shifting and smoothing out for quite a while. Edwin doesn't know how long it will last or what the destination will be. All he knows is that the slope hits his feet once or twice at most.

One afternoon she invites them to watch Scooby Doo together. It's the first time they've gathered as a trio, and Edwin immediately understands why this hasn't happened before when Niko unlocks the door to her room. The bed they usually end up on is narrow to say the least, why hadn't he noticed that before, but it seems too late to make a flimsy excuse and eloign himself from the picture. They were long overdue.

Charles, who looks about ready to turn into an orb of post-case tension, has no qualms about using the threshold for a shimmering quick wardrobe change. He appears right at home, comfortable, downright domestic, in socks, trousers and a polo shirt, sliding his suspenders down and trailing after Niko who heads for the coat hanger.

What Edwin doesn't expect, apart from the rather tight fit for three people - or rather two ghost boys and one living girl - is Niko giving him a knowing look over Charles' head as he unceremoniously flops down on the bed. His groan, which prompts Niko to pat him sympathetically on said head, makes Edwin snap his open mouth shut, suddenly flustered.

He waits politely, pulling down his knitted vest and admiring the decorative sequins sewn onto a flowery cushion, deliberately not looking at the long line of Charles sprawled on the neatly tucked in duvet. He half-listens to Niko as she chatters on, something about needing to show them the more modern rendition of their Mystery Inc. detectives, grabbing her laptop from the desk and sitting down in the very middle, hip-checking Charles' side. Charles sluggishly lifts himself and rolls onto his back, pushing himself up, shoulders halfway up the headboard, neck supported by a plush pillow, hands folded across his chest and long, long legs crossed at the ankles. He must have done this several times now, Edwin's lungs remind him before tightening into knots. The mattress barely dips when he gingerly sits down and settles, too. His back remains straight, and he is barely brushing her arm when she announces out of the blue, "I forgot my snacks. Give me a moment," climbing off the bed and leaving them in — on Edwin's side — suddenly charged, tense silence.

It feels different, of course it does, and Edwin feels guilty that his carefully tucked away thoughts are knocking on the doors of his consciousness when they're in Niko's room, for God's sake. Edwin tries to subtly move away from the overwhelmingly horizontal line of Charles' body. Right now, sitting cross-legged, Edwin's knees are barely touching him, and he bumps his knee against Charles' arm twice before stilling. He doesn't want to hunch down; never again. He stays put.

The sensation of Charles' bony elbow is like the flash of a sharp smile. The room fills with a low hum, something musical and... campy that Niko must have shown Charles on one of those afternoons. With his eyes closed, Edwin compartmentalises the points of sharp heat.

Much, much later, Charles jogs up to the beach where Niko and Edwin are watching the starfish. "What're you doing?", he asks curiously, just when Edwin finishes talking about their lack of a centralised brain.

He hears the shift in Charles' posture more than his opening to say something mouth, and a second of hesitation before it closes again.

He wonders if Charles has noticed their colours.

Niko sends Charles a lingering smile. Her eyes crinkle with mirth. "Luckily, love requires no logic", she says cryptically. They don't notice, crouching down as they are, but his head tilts synonymously with Niko's and Edwin's.

When he dares to peek at Niko, he finds her eyes locked with Charles', with an expression that Edwin knows she must have learned recently, but is not sure when exactly. It says something like, go on. Be brave.

He swallows and clenches his fingers around the red, red sea glass in his coat pocket.

[lyvhie]

okay hi haechan anon again!! im back with another request! so I'm missing my taeyong a lot (hashtag military wife..) and I was listening to 2 baddies as any baddie would and. the line "now you wanna ride these wheels" had my legs FOLDED 🥴 those wheels aren't the only thing I wanna ride.

and that brings me to my request. riding tyongie pretty pretty please???

── .✦ everybody makes mistakes

ex-bf!lee taeyong x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ summary: You were going through a busy time in your life, and going to a party was supposed to help you relax a little and... Well, your ex certainly turned out to be a good distraction. 𓂃 ࣪˖ cw: smut, riding, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie because why not 😞, pet names. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: HIIII, ANOOOON!!! GLAD YOU'RE STILL HERE 😚😚 i get you... i feel like we are 12949 years without tyong, we need him back ASAP, i can't have a happy life if taeyong isn't here PLEASE. ANYWAYS, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!

This was definitely not part of the plan. It was supposed to be a fun night at your friend's party—a chance to unwind and forget about the chaos that had taken over your life lately. Honestly, you hadn’t even planned on coming, but your friends had insisted, saying some fresh air would do you good. You finally caved, figuring what was the harm?

Wrong decision.

If you had known your ex-boyfriend would be there, you’d have stayed home.

You thought you were over him, it had been months since the breakup, after all. There was no reason to panic, you told yourself. Besides, he hadn’t even seemed to notice you were there. You could enjoy the night without a care. Or so you thought.

Your eyes kept drifting to him, as if drawn by some invisible force. Watching how he moved through the crowd, laughing, leaning in to whisper things in people’s ears, flashing that smile that used to make your heart race. The same smile he was now directing at others.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from him. Focus on your drink. Your friends. Literally anything else, you told yourself, desperate to ignore the annoying tightness in your chest every time you caught sight of him leaning in close to someone else. But it was no use.

You didn’t even need to look. You could feel it. His eyes were on you, burning with that same intensity you’d once found irresistible. Against your better judgment, you glanced over and instantly regretted it.

There he was, lips curling into a smirk, that infuriating, knowing expression that only made your stomach twist further. And then, as if the universe itself was playing a cruel joke, he started walking toward you.

Your heart skipped, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever your friends were laughing about. You even forced out a chuckle, hoping it sounded convincing.

Taeyong, of course, wasn’t fooled. He thought it was cute, how bad you were at subtlety, how transparent you always were when you tried to act cool, just as he remembered. If anything, it made him want to reach you faster.

From the moment he approached you and murmured a soft “hey,” everything became a haze, your senses drowning in the intensity of his presence. You remembered the way he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that his warm breath sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and familiar, dripping with charm as he told you how much he missed you, how surprised he was to see you there when he knew this wasn’t your usual scene.

His hand had found its way to your waist, his touch firm but not forceful, as if asking for permission rather than demanding it. You hadn’t stopped him. The heat of his body pressed against yours was both comforting and electric, stirring something in you that you thought had long been buried.

Every subtle gesture—a thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip, the way his fingers lingered just a moment too long as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way his gaze never wavered from yours—pulled you deeper into the gravity of his orbit. You knew you should step back, but instead, you let yourself lean into the closeness, into him, even though you both knew exactly where this would lead.

And all of it led to a kiss, slow, as if to test the waters, then deepening with the kind of urgency that only old lovers can share. That kiss led to lovely whispers and stolen touches, and before you knew it, you were in the parking lot, your heart pounding as he opened the door to the backseat of his car.

The air between you was thick with tension, your breaths mingling as he pulled you close, his hands finding your waist like they never forgot the shape of you. It was reckless and impulsive, the kind of decision that you knew you’d question later—but right now, with his lips on yours and the heat of his body pressed against you, it felt like the only decision to make.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin as he held you down against him. His mouth was relentless, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch. Your hips began to move instinctively, a slow grind against him that drew a deep groan from his lips. The confined space of the car only heightened the heat between you, every movement feeling more intense, more urgent in the close quarters.

You felt his hands slip to the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but you stopped him just in time, pulling away from the kiss, both of you panting softly.

"This is a bad idea," you whispered, though your body leaned into his, contradicting your words.

"Maybe," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made your resolve waver. You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," you tried to reason, though your hands remained on him, your touch lingering.

“You can blame the alcohol if it helps," he suggested, his lips tracing a path up to your jaw before capturing your mouth again. You didn't resist, kissing him back.

"I didn't drink that much," you argued softly.

"Then blame me," his hand drifting lower, inching toward the space between your legs, sending a wave of anticipation through you. "You're always good at that."

"Shut up," you retorted, nipping at his lower lip, earning a hiss and a soft chuckle from him. “Tell me to stop," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his lips hovering just above yours. "And I will, pretty.”

Yes, you just needed to say the word and get out of his car. Of course, that would be the right thing to do, but... you were already this far.

You would blame him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna regret this," you muttered before crashing your lips against his again, kissing him more fervently than before, grinding against him harder, his bulge applying just the right amount of pressure against your core.

Your hands fumbled with the button of his pants, a mix of nerves and anticipation guiding your movements. He was quick to undo yours in return, his desperation evident as he helped you, pulling his pants down just enough while you slipped out of yours along with your panties, leaving no barriers between you.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you over him, one of your hands rested on his shoulder for balance while the other slid down, wrapping around his hard cock. It throbbed under your touch, and he let out a soft moan at the slightest contact. You stroked him slowly, savoring the way he responded, before lowering yourself just enough to let the tip brush along your slick slit.

He groaned, his fingers tightening on your hips, urging you to stop teasing. "Don't play with me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. You smiled faintly, enjoying the rare moment of control you had over him, but your own need was overwhelming.

With a soft exhale, you slowly sank down onto him, both of you gasping as he stretched you, filling you completely. Fuck, how he missed this—the feeling of your warm heat enveloping him, just as tight as he remembered. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, his breath hot against your skin.

“You feel so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You missed this feeling too, the delicious stretch of him inside you, your walls fluttering around him, as if your body was echoing the same sentiment. He bit your neck to muffle a moan, the sound vibrating through you.

And for a few seconds, you both stayed like that, motionless, just reveling in the feeling of him taking up all the space in your pussy. Then, slowly, you began to move, rolling your hips over him before lifting yourself just enough and sinking back down, drawing moans from both of you. His hands slid down to cup your ass, fingers digging in as he followed your movements, his head falling back against the seat with a deep groan.

Your movements were slow at first, teasing, but you quickly found your rhythm, pressing down on him, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body. The heat between you was unbearable, the cramped space of the car amplifying every sound—the wet glide of your bodies, the breathless moans, the creak of the leather seat beneath you.

His hands moved back to your waist and his grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your flesh as he urged you to move faster. You picked up speed, setting a pace that felt good for you, making him gasp with each roll of your hips.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, lifting his head to watch where your bodies met, eyes dark with hunger. "Just like that... take me deeper."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper as you obeyed, bouncing harder, grinding down to feel every inch of him. The pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, stealing what little self-control you had left. His hands left your hips, moving up your body, dragging your shirt up to expose more of your skin.

“Fuck, look at you," he murmured, leaning in to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you clench around him.

A deep, guttural moan tore from his throat as he thrust up into you slightly, meeting your movements. "Shit—keep that up, and I won't last," he warned, voice strained. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You were too close, too lost in the way he filled you perfectly, the way his body fit against yours like he was made for you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to kiss you, the heat between you both intensifying. Just as he had said, he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn't just because it felt incredible, but because it was you.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, almost a plea, his thighs tensing beneath you. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, every little sound he made pushing you closer to the edge too, but you weren’t there yet.

You didn’t need to say anything; your body said enough. The way you moved, the way you squeezed him with every roll of your hips—it was too much. His grip on you tightened as he groaned deep, his body shuddering beneath you as he came, his release spilling inside you as you kept moving, letting him ride it out.

But he didn’t stop there—you still needed to finish too, and now it was his turn to take care of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck. Even with his body still trembling from his own release, he started moving again, thrusting up into you with deep, desperate strokes.

A shaky whine escaped his lips as the overstimulation hit him, but he didn’t let up, his grip on you firm, determined. “Gotta make you feel good too,” he murmured against your skin, his voice strained, breathless.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your walls fluttering around him, dragging him deeper despite the sensitivity. His name spilled from your lips, hands fisting in his hair as he held you close, chasing your release like it was the only thing that mattered.

His breath was hot against your neck, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate, but he didn’t stop—not until he had you right where he wanted. His fingers slid down between your bodies, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your thighs tremble around him.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, voice hoarse, lips brushing your ear. Your grip on him tightened as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, the pressure building with every stroke, every thrust. His name tumbled from your lips, breathless and needy, and he groaned at how good you sounded.

And then, with one more deep, well-angled thrust, pleasure crashed over you. Your body tensed before melting into his, a broken moan leaving your lips as your release washed through you. He groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his arms holding you steady as you rode out your high.

Even as your body sagged against his, he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his breaths ragged, shaky. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, tracing slow circles on your back as he helped you come down.

It wasn’t the smartest decision, you knew that. But, in that moment, you felt... satisfied.

You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes. Your friends had been right, maybe you did need to let go of the weight on your shoulders and relax a little.

"Wanna come home?"

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[darling2411]

Her Shadow

Jason Todd x reader

1.8K

*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were confused. It's been nearly a week since you last saw your shadow. Was he gone? Did you scare him off when you called out for him? Or did something happen?

Why did you even care? It wasn't like you knew him. But you missed the feeling of safety his closeness gave you. Yes you never saw him,but you always sensed his presence, and you missed him now that you didn't.

You stopped feeling alone as soon as your shadow entered your life because you weren't. No matter where you went, you could always rely on him to be there. 

Jason longed to be with you, but he had to stay away until he recovered from a mission gone wrong.

He had to lay low for a while after you saw him anyway. But the week he had to spend away from you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

His entire being begged to be with you. To keep an eye on you and make sure everything was okay. He had even gone so far as to think about asking his brother to come see how you were doing and find out whether everything was okay, but he decided against it. Jason wanted to keep you all to himself. And to be fair he doesn't even really have you. Yes he knows as much about you as he could figure out without really breaking every sense of your privacy. But you don't know him. And he had to change that as soon as possible. Jason wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how he could achieve that.

Like a gift sent from heaven the solution to his most pressing problem came in the form of yourself. 

Other than a few scratches on his face Jason was all healed, but he hasn't seen you in 10 days and he missed you.

He was on his way back to his apartment when he unexpectedly saw you. His heart started beating faster and he could swear that if it could his heart would jump out of his chest and intertwine with yours.

However, all of his optimistic thoughts vanished when he realizes in what situation you are in and instead his head is filled with rage.

A man was pressing you against the brick wall of a building and you were screaming at him to let you go. You were making it clear that you didn’t want this, that he was making you incredibly uncomfortable, but the guy wouldn't let you go. 

Jason was fuming and before he himself could realize what he was doing he pulled the man off you and started beating him.

You were able to breathe again as soon as the man was shoved away from you and after taking a few deep breaths you noticed that the man who pushed the creep of you was still beating him. You heard a sickening crunch and you knew it was the sound of bones breaking. 

"Hey!" you exclaimed, "please stop." And as soon as your voice reached Jason's ears he stopped immediately, his sole focus on you.

"Are you alright?" His breathing was irregular as he asked.“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head no “ Other than being a creep you stepped in before anything bad could happen.”

“Don't do that” Jason said, his gaze still full of rage, “That he even put his hand on you without you giving him permission is to much”

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders, saying, "I know, but it wasn't like he assaulted me." 

“He did!” Why were you so adamant on telling him that nothing happened?

“Perhaps, but it makes no difference. You stopped him and nothing really happened. And I'm not gonna say anything anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

Jason was baffled “What do you mean you won't say anything? You have to report him.” He looked at you expectantly.

"Report him?I will either get fired or no one will believe me if I report him, Mister-huge-bicep.” You say being unable not to notice his shirt pressing against the bulging muscles in his arms. You turned to the creep who unfortunately happened to be your boss or rather professor. You were his assistant and most of the time he behaved himself but lately more often than not he made weird jokes and sexual comments. But you needed the money, the job in the little supermarket on the corner didn't cover all your expenses. And you really like your little apartment. If not for your job as a teaching assistant you would have to move back in with your mother and that was something you really don't want to do. 

Mr. Huge Bicep? Jason was overcome with male pride, but he was unable to concentrate on it at the moment. There were more pressing matters. “Is he your boss?” He took a step towards you, saying, “Yn. I asked if he is your boss”

Hold on, did he just say your name? Did you tell him? You must have but when?

“How do you know my name? I didn't tell you, did i?”

Shit, he fucked up” That doesnt matter right now, Is he your boss or not?”

"Yes, he is. He is my professor and also my boss. I’ m his teaching assistant and I really need that job”

“Alright this is what we’re going to do now. First of all I'm gonna walk you home and make sure nothing else happens to you. Then we are going to talk about what you plan to do with your professor and after that I'm gonna explain to you why I know your name, alright ?”

“That sounds good and I'm gonna make us a little something to eat and don't you even try to say no. It's the least I can do after you literally saved me.” you smiled up at him kindly.

How could he ever say no to you in any way? He was totally smitten with you and he never even really talked to you until today.

“Alright” You already turned away from him and didn't see the slight smile on his face after he accepted your invitation.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you made your way over to your apartment. If you noticed that he led the way there without you telling him where to go you didn't say anything. 

You opened the door when you arrived and let him inside. 

Your apartment is a pure reflection of yourself. It is plaid out in your favourite colours and all your little hyperfixation are displayed all over the place. It was so unapologetically you and Jason immediately felt at peace. Just like he usually did when he was following you around as your shadow and was in your mere presence .

“Nice place” he muttered as you ushered him into your little kitchen. 

“Thanks, I love it” you beamed.

Yeah he could see that. “Is that why you don't want to tell anyone about your boss?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes,” you answered silently.” If I want to keep this place and I really do, then I also have to keep that job.” You just got your shot at independence and you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers without a fight.

“Okay then.”, Jason sighed, ”Has he ever done anything similar ?” he asked, his fist clenched tight. The simple thought of you being in a situation like this before without him there was making him want to punch the professor all over again. Additionally he was extremely mad at himself because how could he not know that you had a second job and that your professor was a fucking creep? If he had known about this he would have helped you sooner. Jason hoped that your boss would still be where he left him later so he could give him another beating for even thinking about you inappropriately.

“No, not really. I mean he always made little comments but he has never been physical with me before. I think it is my fault. I was really nice to him this morning and said that we could meet up to mark the next exams after the lectures were finished and I think he misunderstood me.” your voice got more unsure the more you tried to explain yourself.

“This was definitely not your fault. He is stupid and heard what he wanted to hear. Nothing that happened had anything to do with what you said or how you behaved. This is not your fault, sweetheart” Jason squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You looked at him sheepishly, his fingers now drawing little patterns into your skin calming you down. “ I know that I'm supposed to feel like that, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know that the guilt has to change sides but the victims almost always gets all the blame and it’s so deep ingrained in us that even I as a woman sometimes think that it is my fault and that is so messed up.” You sigh heavily.

“Yes it is that is why you have to report him” Jason says trying to persuade you to do the thing he thinks is right.”Nothing will change if you don’t try.”

“You really think that it will help?” you ask, still unsure if anything will change if you report your professor.

“If I come with you yes” Jason says extremely sure of himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask perplexed.

“Well I uhm” he trailed off , not quite sure what to say. Should he already tell you about his connection to Bruce? “I mean I saw what happened so im sure they have to believe you if  you have a witness.” 

“You're right I will report him first thing in the morning. I hope you know that you have to come with me. You are the witness after all.” Now it is your time to look at him expectantly.

He did know and the possibility of spending more time with you made him all giddy inside.

“Yeah, no problem.” He looked at you intensely, finally being able to really look at you without as much distance between you as when he was keeping an eye on you from far away. You are the most magnificent thing Jason has ever laid his eyes upon. And if he could he would never stop looking at you.

“You said you would tell me how you know my name?”,that got Jason's attention and he stopped staring at your perfectly kissable lips and focused on your eyes instead.

“Yes but how about we eat something before I tell you?” He asked, trying to delay the conversation as long as he could before he has to tell you everything and you wouldn’t want to see him ever again.

He hopes you won't hate him when he confesses to being your shadow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 27 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day one: a secret admirer

ᰔ pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x reader

ᰔ summary: you are new to the neighborhood, and you've become friends with your neighbors— a spunky little girl and her reserved father. before long, you notice mr. miller has taken to you more than you realize. when a letter with no address ends up in your mail box, you get down to the bottom of it.

ᰔ author's note: sooo excited to do this!!! i've never done a writing challenge like this, and i've been looking for something to spark my creativity again. it's a bit short, and i'm still rusty. it's been a long time since i've written on here, so please let me know how i can improve! enjoy! ♡

ᰔ content warning: pre-outbreak. young sarah miller. young single father joel miller. fluff. slightly domestic.

"Dad! Do we have envelopes?"

"Why do you need an envelope? You mailin' a check?" Joel looks up from the morning paper. He isn't sure if he's heard Sarah right, yet she stands in front of him with a folded piece of paper and a sweet smile. 

"I'm dropping off a letter. Please, Dad, I just need one," Sarah rolls her eyes. Ever since she's turned twelve, the eye rolling has become a constant. It drives Joel up a wall, but he'd be blue in the face before she stops. It has to run its course, whether he likes it or not. 

"They're in the desk drawer," Joel sighs. He picks up the newspaper again after he takes a sip of his coffee. Whatever she's up to, he's sure he'll find out soon enough. 

Sarah mutters a thanks as she leaves the room. She waits until he's reading again before she shoves the letter into the envelope. With a quick glance back, she knows it's now or never. 

"I'm going to the mailbox! Be right back!" 

Before Joel could ask any other questions, Sarah is already out the door and headed towards your mailbox. Your car is parked in the driveway, but there's no sign of you outside. Perfect.

A few quick strides later, and Sarah is shoving the envelope in your mailbox. She pulls the little red tab up before she scampers away. As she walks, she prays you see it sooner rather than later.

Luck is in her favor, considering you're walking out to check your mailbox as she closes the front door. You notice the red tab and your heart stutters. It's been a couple of months since you moved into the neighborhood, and homesickness has gotten to you. You've been checking the mail in hopes of any news from home, or something to tie you back. Anything to ease the ache that's settled in your bones.

You open the mailbox, immediately confused by the top letter. It has no information on the front which makes you a bit nervous. If it's ended up in here, it must be from someone who knows you- a very short list. 

Instead of bringing it inside, you open it right at the mailbox. The bills and junk mail are shoved back in the box before you open it. 

"Hi,

This is Joel, your neighbor on the right. The one with the girl, Sarah. I would like to take you on a date. Call me."

You read it over, a bit skeptical that someone is pulling a prank on either you or Joel. Part of you wonders if it is Joel, but you highly doubt he's writing letters to his neighbor in a glittery purple pen. The few times you've had a conversation with Joel- beyond a quick hello or a wave as you both leave for work- he's been very direct. Never one to beat around the bush, which you admire. 

The other part of you knows it's more likely that Sarah's behind this. The idea of her writing this has you smiling. She's a smart one, and you know Joel will have his hands full as she grows up. You've talked to her enough to hear how smart she is. That being said, she'll need to learn how to cover her tracks and try to avoid pretty gel pens when writing like her father.

With the letter in hand, you head next door and knock. From your spot, you can hear some back and forth before the door finally opens. Before you stands the supposed author in question, a bit confused when he sees you.

"Hi, darlin'. You okay? You don't usually come knockin' this early." Joel gives you a kind smile. One that you've thought of more than one. 

Admittedly, you do have a small crush on Joel. He always makes it a point to help you with groceries, or even mow your lawn if you're too busy to get around to it. All without you having to ask or mention it. The goodness of his heart, you suppose. His consideration makes your head spin- along with how devilishly handsome he is. You've been known to stare when he's outside without a shirt on, working on some house project he's tasked himself with. 

"Good morning, Joel. Sorry to bother you, but I got this letter and I wanted to just verify that you wrote it." You hand him the letter with a slight chuckle. He looks just as confused as you were a few moments ago. As he reads, his face shifts. It's a mix between disbelief and mortification. 

"That girl," Joel mutters under his breath. He rubs his forehead as he tries to come up with something to say. Before he can say anything, you pipe up.

"While I'll never be the one to judge your pen choice, I have a feeling someone else in your house may be the culprit."

Joel chuckles, unable to stop himself. It's both from how funny he finds you while also in disbelief at the situation. He nods and folds the paper back up. 

"I'm sorry about that. I knew something was up when she asked for an envelope this morning. Kid's gonna be the death of me, one of these days," he sighs. Your good humor eases the tension in his muscles. Everything about you does, but he lets that thought die out as you cross your arms over your chest. 

"Well, can you stay alive long enough for us to go on the date? I know it was her idea but I'll admit, I was excited to see you asked me out..." You glance away, a smile on your lips. When you look back at Joel, the tips of his ears are pink and he looks to be at a loss for words.

"I, I've been meanin' to ask you," he admits. "I guess Sarah overheard me talkin' to Tommy. Just didn't think she'd do something about it." Joel finally smiles. It's warm and a bit humorous. Leave it to his daughter to push him in the right direction.

"I'm glad she did. You free tomorrow night?" You ask, taking the letter out of his hands. You want it for safe keeping, in hopes that one day you'll pull it out and remember how you and Joel went on your first date. Just the idea has your heart hammering.

"Yeah, yeah," Joel finally nods after a beat of silence. "I'm off work for the next few days." He knows he should be the one asking you out, but he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You workin' today?" You tilt your head, a curious look in your eyes as you look Joel over. If your attraction to him had been a question before, all the confirmation he needs is standing right in front of him.

"Not today, no." Joel can feel his chest constrict, his mouth suddenly dry. The look on your face shifts into something he's only imagined in the middle of the night, his hand down his pajama pants and mind full of you.

"Well, if you find yourself with some free time today, I'll be next door. Bye, Joel." You shoot him a wink before you saunter away from his front door. Even without looking, you know his eyes are on you. From a distance, you can hear him call for Sarah that he has to run to the neighbor's house for a bit.

Yeah, Joel definitely has some free time today.

[icycoldninja]

Could you make Sephiroth x introverted!reader? Or if you do love triangles something like Genesis x introverted!reader x Sephiroth where they take turns to comfort reader? And maybe talk about uhm insecurities like reader's face and body possibly add the unstable personality type in there too because my emotions are all over the place most times- (it's kinda up and down roller coaster with emotions for me)

Hope it's not too much to ask<3

It's not too much at all! Sorry I took so long to write this! I ended up just sticking with Sephiroth x Reader; I hope you enjoy!

Words (Sephiroth x Introverted!Reader)

"If you are hearing this message, you have succeeded in locating me," Began Sephiroth's voice mail, ominously. "No doubt you know who I am already. Deliver your message if you must."

"Hey, Seph," You said softly, already beginning to worry what he would think of you for calling about something as trivial as this. "I..uhh...just...wanted to see if you were busy, and it looks like you are, but...when you aren't, could you maybe come over? Please? If you're not busy?"

How many times were you going to ask if he was busy? Oh well.

"Uhh...anyway....yeah. Bye." You finished lamely, ending the call a few seconds before you even finished speaking. No sooner had you heard that familiar "click" of a disconnected call did your phone ring again. When you checked, you found, to your delight, that Sephiroth was calling you back.

"Hi," You mumbled weakly, upon answering the call.

"I am in fact, not busy," He said briskly.

"Ok," You responded slowly, not sure how else to react. "So...you'll come by later tonight...maybe? If you're not busy?"

"Look outside."

"What?"

"Look outside."

Confused, but deciding to trust him, you hesitantly turned and peeked out the window, nearly fainting when you caught sight of the familiar silver-haired figure standing stiffly but patiently on your doorstep, his phone passed up against his ear. You locked eyes in less than a few seconds, and as you were rather sternly staring at each other, he leaned into the phone and said,

"May I come in?"

"S-sure..." You whispered, lingering in front of the window for a few moments before remembering that he didn't have a key, and subsequently hurrying to the door to open it for him. Sephiroth had hung up the phone by the time you managed to stutter out a greeting, so you did the same and flashed him an appreciative smile; Sephiroth gave you a sweet little smirk in return.

"You look troubled," He remarked, as soon as he was inside your house. "What bothers you?"

"Oh, uhh," You ended up fumbling for words, your brain suddenly drawing a blank and your throat beginning to seize up as you immediately regretted asking Sephiroth to come over.

Truthfully, you were feeling a little down and slightly insecure about a lot of things, most of them physical in nature, and thought having him around would cheer you up. Because the man was almost as dense as a brick, you figured he wouldn't notice your mood shift and would simply spend the evening with you the way he normally did. The fact that he had picked up on your emotions proved that either he was more emotionally intelligent than he let on, or your feelings were written all over your face.

"I-I'm fine," You managed to stutter out at last, then spent the next few minutes mumbling gibberish under your breath, trying to think of an excuse to hide your clearly disgruntled expression.

"Don't bother lying to me," Sephiroth finally spoke, placing a large, warm, comforting hand on your shoulder. "Tell me. Come on."

Blowing out a huge sigh, you plopped onto the nearby couch and fully deflated, your body sinking into the airy cushions. Sephiroth followed you, his large frame perfect for snuggling into, which you did, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you did so.

"I'm just...feeling like crap today." You finally confessed, after a few long moments of silence.

"Hm. Why?"

"I dunno..." You trailed off again, struggling to put your feelings into words.

"It's alright," Sephiroth said consolingly, patting your shoulder. "I understand." He pulled you into his chest and held you there, stroking your hair while you sighed, shut your eyes, and just lay there.

"I don't deserve you, Seph," You whispered after gathering the courage to speak. "Thanks for being here."

"So that is what this is all about." Sephiroth had apparently figured you out. "You feel inadequate. How ridiculous." You felt tears pricking at your eyes from that remark, which stung you more than it should have. Before you knew it, you were crying. Not fully sobbing and wailing in grief, but there were visible tears streaming down your face and soaking into Sephiroth's clothes. He obviously felt their presence, and responded by patting your back gently.

"That is not what I meant," You heard him clarify. "It is ridiculous for you to feel inadequate, is what I was trying to say. You are more than worthy. More than perfect. I don't deserve you."

"No!" You suddenly exploded, speaking louder than you wanted. "I'm ugly...and I look weird...and...and you're not. You're so smart, and strong, and confident, and handsome...everyone loves you, but they'll never love me."

"What are you saying?" Sephiroth suddenly demanded, "Who does not love you? Give me their names."

"No, no, no, no," You quickly piped up, worried he would run off and do something you'd both regret. "No names. No names. I don't have any names."

"Then why are you so concerned with others' opinions, especially if you don't know who they are?"

You had to admit that he made a good point. Why did you care in the first place?

"Their thoughts are unimportant and meaningless," You heard him continue, "The only words that matter are mine." When you looked at him questioningly, he added, "and yours."

Once again, he had a good point.

"I...yeah...you're right," You found yourself admitting meekly, already beginning to feel ashamed of yourself for not realizing this sooner. "I needed that."

"Never forget that," Sephiroth informed you, pressing a small kiss on your forehead. "And should you ever need a reminder, simply call me."

"OK," You chuckled, feeling better in an instant, though that kiss probably had a lot to do with it. "Thank you."

Sephiroth answered you with another kiss, this one planted on your lips, and proceeded to smush you against his chest, which you had fo admit, was the most comfortable place to be.

[flawedbby]

Shouto held the love letter in his hand, debating if he should give it to Bakugou. He spent all night figuring out the right words to describe how he felt for him. He could get rejected, in fact, he expected it, but Shouto decided it needed to be said.

Nothing would haunt him more than 'what if?' He'd rather risk it than never try. He let out a sigh. Love was terrifying.

"Oh man! That's crazy," he heard Kirishima's voice around the corner.

He's going to do it. Shouto hid the letter in his pocket and waited.

"What the hell are you doing here, icyhot?" Bakugou said as soon as he saw him. "Waiting for fucking Deku?"

"Actually, I was waiting for you," he said, then waved at Kirishima so Shouto wouldn't seem rude.

"Hey, Todoroki! I'll catch up with you later, Bakugou. Bye, guys!"

They watched him go. Then Bakugou glared at him. "Well, what do you want? I don't have all day. I have homework and shit to do."

Suddenly the letter felt heavy in his pocket, and Shouto lost all the confidence he had upon facing Bakugou. Now he understood why admirers often left their confessions in lockers. This was too much.

"I forgot..."

"What?"

"Yes. I'm sorry for wasting your time, Bakugou." And Shouto slowly turned around, attempting to escape, but Bakugou wasn't having it. He grabbed him by his elbow.

"Are you fucking serious?!"

Shouto was yanked back. The letter fell out of his pocket and he wasn't fast enough to get it as Bakugou snatched off the floor.

"That's not for you!"

"This has my name on it," he stated. He pushed Shouto away when he tried reaching for it.

"Please, Bakugou! Don't!"

But it was too late. Bakugou opened it. Shouto closed his eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not like this. His heart raced as he waited for the insults and humiliation.

"Is this a fucking joke?" Bakugou barked. His face was crimson red and he's gritting his teeth.

Shouto was taken by surprise and was a bit offended. He'd never joke about this. "It's not. It's the truth. I like you," he said, finally feeling bold, mostly because he's upset at the accusation.

Bakugou locked gaze with Shouto, then huffed. "Took you fucking long."

"Oh.”

[chock-and-bates]

you get the chollie vision so I'm inclined to ask about god rest my soul (i miss who i used to be). lestappen is always promising but throwing ollie in the mix 😵‍💫 I'm excited to hear more :3

oh, dear...i fully admit that this is one of those fics where the author is using it to work through some things 🥲

there's this theory that the person you fall in love with at 19 will break your heart the most and traumatize you for life. (bonus points if you're like me and there was an age gap as well!)

so basically... i'm gonna put Ollie through the wringer 😭

Premise: Charles is single at the start of the 2025 season after ending things with both his girlfriend and his secret boyfriend, determined to focus on racing and healing his broken heart.

Despite his good intentions, he falls into a surprisingly passionate affair with Ollie, one with blurred lines and expectations. Charles isn't exactly sure exactly how he feels, but he can tell Ollie is developing some very intense feelings. It’s terrifying, yet he can't bring himself to end things.

But when Max finds out what's going on... things explode.

Snippet under the cut:

“Ayao said that it’s been my standout moment so far,” Ollie continues to babble, “I should show you the replay so you can tell me what you think. Here let me grab my phone-”

“No, no, don't worry! I watched it a few times already. I agree with Ayao, you were excellent! Especially at turn five, that was so nice, I couldn’t believe you went for it…”

Charles trails off when he realizes that Ollie has gone rather still, staring down at him with astonished eyes.

“Sorry,” he quickly comes back to himself with a jolt, “Sorry! I just- I didn’t realize you’d watched it already.”

“Of course I watched it,” Charles smiles gently, a little puzzled, “I saw it in the cooldown room replays first, but I’ve watched it a few times more. It’s like I said, you were excellent. I like watching good racing. Especially my friends.”

“Oh, well, that’s- I mean,” familiar pink spots appear on Ollie’s cheeks as he stumbles for words, “That’s- that’s great. Thanks.”

Ollie’s phone vibrates with a message alert before Charles can reply. He fumbles with it in his hands for a moment before he reads-

“Shit, late for debrief,” he mutters, still flustered, “I’ve got to go.”

Charles bids him goodbye, with promises of seeing him later on the plane they’ll be sharing with George, Pierre, and Kimi. He’s already turned to head into the bedroom to get changed when he hears Ollie pause by the door, “Hey…Charles?”

Looking over his shoulder, he startles when he sees Ollie staring back at him, an anxious but unmistakable softness in his eyes.

“Just wanted to say- I watched your podium today,” Ollie confesses, hushed and shy, “I always watch your podiums. I- I like watching good racing too, and I like seeing you up there. You were made for it.”

Oh.

“Wow, um, thank you, mate,” Charles replies, feeling more than a little thrown by the confession … and by the way Ollie’s looking at him, “Yes, um, thank you. You will be up there with me someday. I know it.”

Ollie doesn’t duck his head in time to hide his pleased grin, and as he glances at Charles one last time, the adoration on his face is painfully clear. 

He takes his leave with a small wave, and as soon as the door closes behind him Charles is cursing, raising a hand up to run through his hair in agitation.

It’s just hero worship, he tries to tell himself. Just like the way he used to look at Seb. It doesn’t mean anything. He’ll get over it once he’s settled into himself. Charles doesn’t have to panic, doesn’t have to do something stupid like put distance between them, that would crush the poor kid. It will be fine.

But he does have to ignore that tight, tingling feeling in belly when he remembers the way Ollie’s eyes felt on him. That telltale softness in his gaze that hinted at something else-

Fuck.

A text alert from his phone provides a welcome distraction. And when he reads who it’s from, the way his mood instantly sours distracts him even further.

Do Not Answer!

Good race today.

That overtake was lovely.

Are you ready to talk to me?

[jadewing-realms]

[sysig]

maybe... snufmin of some description for requestober

Day 18 - They're gossiping about you

[cryoscarab]

Stupid, minimal effort, 'Draw The Squad' inspired creation because I'm missing them.

Don't ask how Laios got ahold of a phone. 😵‍💫

[starflungwaddledee]

alright alright i keep learning about this wrt to mutuals and it is constantly blowing my mind so i gotta know

(this is a scale; please pick the furthest down option on the list that you use regularly. one-offs or playing with different tools don't count for this poll)