#as in i earned a level of trust in them that they started opening up a whole lot about their frustrations and feelings and experiences

[uncanny-tranny]

I'm going to be real, I've been on testosterone for multiple years and my levels have been very consistently high and whatnot, and yet I haven't gotten to the point where my testosterone "makes" me act in possessive, creepy ways toward women. Not even the women who are drop-dead gorgeous to me!

And that's because it's not about testosterone. It's about the way you choose to interact with women. When you devalue them already, no amount of testosterone is going to influence you further.

[reysdriver]

Apple Of My Eye | E.M.

You and your coworker Eddie finally do something about your longtime mutual crush when he asks you out after a wild day at work — line cook!eddie x waitress!reader fluff

warnings: customer service nightmares, reader cries over it, I think that's it actually

words: 4.8k

The last thing you heard before shutting the walk-in freezer door behind you was a pan dropping to the floor and Eddie cursing loudly at no one in particular. You sat down with your back against a sack of potatoes beside the vegetable shelf. 

The tears that pricked at your eyes were free to run down your face now that you were in the privacy of the walk-in. It’s always been a good place to cry or scream if you were frustrated at work. 

You were slightly startled by the heavy door opening, but you knew you shouldn’t be; other people worked here too, of course. 

It was Eddie walking in, looking frustrated, though his expression softened when he locked eyes with you. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, letting the door close as he sat down next to you.

You scooted a bit to make more room for Eddie, but still brushed him off.

“I’m okay.” You sniffled, looking down at your feet. “Don’t you have a whole bunch of orders to fill?”

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He replied, which earned a smile from you. 

It was a true thing, Eddie would always take the time, even in the busiest of rush hours, to compliment you, or make you a special plate of fries, or just let you know that your makeup had smudged in all the haste. 

He never did it with anyone else, not to the same level, at least. All your coworkers used that as proof that he had a thing for you in the same way that you did for him, but you never believed them. 

“So, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There he goes, using that nickname that makes your heart soar. Now how could you not answer him after he asked as nicely as that?

“Some asshole got mad at me ‘cause I forgot he asked for no vegetables on his burger. He was calling me dumb and saying I’m a bad waitress and—”

“You’re not.” Eddie told you. “Don’t listen to him.”

 One look at Eddie’s pretty brown eyes told you he was being completely sincere, but you were still upset. 

“He was so mean, and he was kind of right.��� You protested. 

Eddie shook his head. “Trust me, he’s not. You’re the only coworker I can stand, so you must be doing something right. Plus you just got your degree, so you’re not dumb.”

“It was community college, Eddie.”

“More than I have. Are you calling me dumb?” He nudged you slightly as he teased, and he was finally cheering you up. 

“No.” You shook your head, a bashful smile starting on your face. 

“Good.” He smiled too, happy that his mission of cheering you up was complete. “Now, I would wipe your tears, but my hands are probably covered in oil so I’m gonna need you to do it for me, okay?”

You nodded and used your index finger to wipe the tears under your eyes and on your cheeks. 

The line cook had his eyes trained on you when you looked up back at him, your eyes still glossy but your spirits higher. 

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Anytime, princess.” He attempted to stifle a groan as he stood up, then stopped before opening the metal door. “I’ll tell Robin to cover your tables for a bit, so don’t worry about getting back to work. You can stay here as long as you want.”

After thanking him again, he flashed you a smile before exiting the freezer room. 

You stayed sitting there, replaying the conversation you just had once over in your head. Once you felt you were composed, you dusted off your clothes and reentered the kitchen. 

Though, as soon as you left the freezer, you could hear shouting coming from the front of house and you knew exactly who it was. 

See, after Eddie left the freezer, when you were busy wiping your tears, Eddie rifled through the receipts to find exactly the guy who made you cry. Not that he needed it anyways, it was obvious who the asshole was when he walked out to the tables and saw some angry looking loser picking at his french fries. 

Now Eddie was in the middle of shaming the man in front of the whole diner. 

Customers had their heads turned to watch the public scolding, and all the staff had paused their duties to stare from the sides of the room as well. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man and you can’t even bear to pick some tomatoes off your burger? You need to whine about the lingering taste of fuckin’ lettuce and make your poor waitress feel like shit?!” Eddie shouted at the guy you were serving. “You better give her one hell of an apology, you hear me?!”

The man nodded pathetically, clearly shaken by the cook’s rant. He probably couldn’t muster up an agreement even if he tried. 

Robin, who you had stood next to while watching Eddie chew that customer out, turned to you. She hardly looked flustered at all, since she was used to the diner’s usual activities. 

“And you still doubt that he likes you back.” She whispered with a smugly raised eyebrow. 

Eddie looked around the room for a moment and noticed you were there. With an outstretched hand and a soft voice, he beckoned you towards him and the man at the booth. 

“Sweetheart, can you come over here for a second?” He asked, ever so politely. 

You obliged and walked over to him, holding your breath as the threat of crying again was still there. 

Standing at the end of the table, Eddie’s gaze panned from you to the slightly terrified man sitting down. 

“Now’s the time for that apology, dickwad.” Your coworker gritted. 

The man struggled to look you in the eyes as he stuttered out some words of regret. “I’m sorry— Er, I’m sorry for complaining about the burger and saying all that rude stuff, too. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”

The line cook looked over at you, gauging your reaction. “How was that?”

You nodded and flashed him a tiny smile, then told the customer that you accepted his apology. 

“Good.” Eddie declared. “Now I’ll go make you a plain, boring burger. And if you’re really sorry then this pretty girl better see a damn good tip when you finish your meal, got it?”

The man nodded meekly once again, and Eddie seemed satisfied with that. He walked back on over to the kitchen while you made your way to your other tables, and the rest of the diner resumed eating and conversing—definitely discussing what just happened.

For the rest of his meal, the man was nice to you. Avoidant for sure, but nice nevertheless. And when he paid, he left a whopping twenty dollar tip and left in a hurry. 

Now that the lunch rush was over, you checked the kitchen for Eddie, then Jonathan informed you that he was out back taking a smoke break. 

You thanked him, and headed to the back exit of the building where you knew the cook spent a part of every shift. Sure enough, he was standing right next to the door with a cigarette in hand. 

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke away from you. “what are you doing back here?”

You smiled at him and fished the twenty dollar bill out of your pocket to display it. “That guy you yelled at left me a pretty nice tip. Here, it’s yours.”

He shook his head and held out a hand to gesture that he couldn’t take it. “No way, you deserve it. Fuckin’ least you should get after having to deal with that asshole.”

You laughed at his dismissal and tried offering again. 

“Come on, you practically mugged that guy to get this money, you have to take it.”

He looked at you with a slight grin, but you couldn’t decide if his expression was that of smugness or entertainment. 

“You can hold out that cash until your wrist falls off, I won’t take your money.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, sincere but still purposefully overdramatic. You put the bill back in your apron and quickly counted out ten ones that you had earned from other tables, then held those out instead. 

“You should at least have half. I can’t let you leave with nothing. If you don’t take it now, I’ll follow you around all day, begging you to take it.” 

Eddie cocked his head to the side and smiled. “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I can’t steal you away from your job like that. I’ll take that money, but I’ll be spending it on you.” 

Your heart fluttered at Eddie’s flirting, which was far less subtle than usual. You had to bite the tip of your tongue to prevent yourself from grinning ear-to-ear. 

He reached out to take the cash, but he was still grinning mischievously. 

“With my half of the cash, I wanna take you on a date, if you’ll let me.”

Holy shit. You never thought he’d ask. And you had expected even less that he would ask in such a gentlemanly manner. Eddie was the type of guy to accidentally tell his boss to fuck off after coming into work hungover, not use the phrase ‘if you’ll let me’. 

“I’d like that.” You responded, way more chill than you had expected your reaction to be. “Anything you have in mind?”

“You trying to expose the fact that I’ve thought about this before?” Eddie smirked, which in turn caused you to blush even more than before. “What time do you get off work tonight?”

“Seven, and you?”

“Same. We can rent a movie and I can make you dinner at my place?” 

Shit, Eddie thought, I don’t remember the state I left my trailer in. 

He tried recalling how messy he left his home, quickly so he could take back the offer if needed. 

“Yeah, sounds great.” 

Too late now. But as nervous as he was for you to walk into his trailer and see a bunch of dirty dishes and laundry piles, the feeling of glee he felt because you said yes was trumping that a hundred times over. 

“Perfect.” Eddie said, stamping out his burnt cigarette. He opened the door back to the restaurant and held it open so you could go first. “After you.”

“Thanks.” You said, barely able to hide your giddy grin. “I gotta get back to my tables, but I’ll see you at seven.”

You both parted ways with matching smiles, hoping the rest of your shifts fly by faster than usual. For the rest of the day, you seemed to have an extra pep in your step while you waited tables. 

As seven o’clock approached, you passed off all your tables to other coworkers, told Steve and Robin you wouldn’t need a ride home, and headed to the washroom to fix your hair and touch up your makeup. 

Once you were satisfied, you headed to the locker room, where Eddie was standing casually against his own locker. His bored expression morphed into a bright look when he saw you walk in. 

“Hey.” Eddie said as you opened your locker and put away your apron. “Ready to go?” 

You nodded, and he opened the door for you once again. Such a gentleman when he wants to be. 

“So, any movie ideas?” He asked as you both got into his van. 

“Something fun.” You told him. “Maybe something like Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Splash?” 

“Anything you want.”

For the ride over to the video store, you listened to the radio—a station with both pop and rock—and chatted about everything under the sun. 

Once you got to Family Video, you headed towards the comedy section whereas Eddie got distracted by a display of staff picks near the front. He called your name, and you turned around to see him holding up The Texas Chain Saw Massacre with a simper. 

“This can be fun, don’t you think?”

You shook your head. “Not if we’re eating tonight. I’ll throw up everywhere. And that’s not the kind of thing that earns a second date.”

He put it down and walked towards the aisle you were standing in. “So you’re already thinking about a second date, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes and went back to browsing the shelves. Your eyes landed on a familiar favourite, so you grabbed it and held it up to show Eddie. 

“Clue, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t do murder movies?”

“No, I just said I couldn’t do that one. This one is hilarious and agreeable.”

“Alright. Hand it over, I already promised to pay for whatever you want.”

You give the tape to him like he asked and you both walk over to the cashier, a teenager who looked extremely disdainful about his job. Eddie pulled out some of the cash you had made him take earlier and placed it on the counter. 

Once the transaction was over, you thanked both Eddie and the bored worker, then you headed back out to Eddie’s car. 

“So, what meal are you going to spend the remaining five dollars and something cents on?” You asked him, buckling yourself as he rolled out of the parking lot. 

Eddie always hated his seatbelt, but he put it on after you—’cause of that damn new law they put in last year.

“I’ll put that in my pocket and save it for the next date. I already have all I need for dinner at home.”

You hummed, slightly surprised. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef outside of the diner. You always seem like you’re done with cooking forever when you clock out.”

“You’ve got me there.” Eddie responds. “I only cook at home when it’s for someone else. When I’m alone, my meals are mostly toast and canned pasta.”

“So who else were you planning on cooking for? You said you have all those ingredients.” That was half teasing, half genuinely curious about Eddie’s personal life. 

“My uncle, actually. I cook him dinner once a week, mostly ‘cause it proves to him that I can eat healthy.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugged dramatically. “I’m just a sweet guy.”

Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, he was relieved to open the door and see that his place hadn’t been left in shambles. The place wasn’t as neat as he would like for a first date—especially one with you—but it was good enough. 

“So, this is it.” Eddie said, arms outstretched like a real estate agent. “You want a tour or is that just for stuffy old people?”

“I’ll take a tour.”

Eddie was kind of hoping you didn’t say that. The trailer was small and he was a little embarrassed. But he supposed it was his own fault for asking in the first place. 

“Alright. Here’s the living room, it’s where I smoke and watch TV.” 

You let out a giggle at the bluntness of his tour. He was glad his joke (half-joke) didn’t fall flat. 

“And you can follow me three feet to the kitchen, which is where I make good meals for others and crap for myself.”

He opened a cupboard full of canned food and snacks for the realtor effect, then did the same with the fridge. He waved a hand near it like a magician showing off a box that no longer contains a woman in a sparkly leotard. 

“We can then move on to the bathroom. It’s got a shower with mediocre water pressure, a pretty average toilet, and a sink that’s covered in toothpaste—don’t look at that, actually.”

You kept walking to the only other real room in the trailer, his bedroom. It was about the size of the kitchen area, and it was very distinctly Eddie. All the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in posters for metal bands and movies he likes, every surface was covered in snack boxes and ashtrays, and he had one incredibly cool guitar hanging in the middle of his wall. 

After staring at the room for so long that you probably had at least one wall memorised, you and Eddie both realised you hadn’t spoken in a while. 

“This is where the magic happens.” Eddie said, not quite as smoothly as he was going for. 

“The magic?” You teased. 

He thought for a second, then clarified. “Not that kind of magic. I just make music and write Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.”

“That can be pretty magical.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah, but not as magical as the dinner I’m about to make for you. If you’re not excited already, you should start.”

You both left his bedroom and Eddie instructed you to relax in the living room and turn on the TV to something you could use as a backdrop while Eddie cooked. 

While he made dinner, you sat comfortably on his couch and chatted with him from the other room. You got to know each other, more than you do at work. Eddie told you about his band and how they play at The Hideout, you told him about your time at community college and your friends outside of the diner. 

“Alright, soup’s on.” Eddie announced, setting two plates on his kitchen table and inviting you over. “Actually, it’s not soup, it’s chicken parm.”

“I appreciate the clarification.” You sat down in the seat closest to you. “It looks good. Smells amazing too.”

And it really was as amazing as it seemed. Although you were no stranger to Eddie’s cooking, all you’ve ever had made by him was diner food. Of course, the diner food was great, but this was another level. You weren’t sure what set it apart; maybe it was just the quality ingredients and lack of yelling while cooking. 

Once your plate was almost empty, Eddie asked if you wanted dessert too. You were slightly confused as you hadn’t seen him make any dessert to go along with the meal, but you agreed anyway. 

“Did you make dessert?” You asked after he stood up. 

“Nope, but I’ve got all the ingredients, so I can make it now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly felt bad, even though he already offered and went through with making you food. “Well, I don’t want to put you out. We can just watch—”

“It’s okay. I don’t have the ingredients for anything fancy. Just the simple stuff.”

That made you feel a little better. You were still curious, but for a different reason now. What could Eddie make quickly to pair with that fantastic dinner. 

You watched as he pulled out Oreos and gummy worms. Was he making a child’s favourite snack as your dessert?

“What are you planning there?” You asked him. 

Then you saw him open the fridge and pull out chocolate pudding cups, then it all clicked in your head. 

Holy shit. Worms and Dirt. 

That was absolutely not what you were expecting, but it was definitely a welcome surprise. 

“I was thinking about just serving up sliced apples and peanut butter along with some cheesy pick-up line like ‘you’re the apple of my eye’, but I figured that would scare you away.” 

“I don’t think that would scare me away.” You told him. “In fact, I would have found it cute. But I’m happy with the pudding.”

Eddie was quite flattered by that, though he tried hard to not let it show. You could definitely see a blush on his cheeks and the corners of his lips turning upwards, as much as he covered it up.

“You ever had Worms and Dirt?” He asked, opening up the Oreo pack. 

“Yeah.” You answered from your seat at the table while he scraped off the cookie filling. “My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid.”

Eddie stopped preparing the food for a second as he turned and gave you a genuine smile. 

“Me too.” 

After that, Eddie went back to making the dessert, the happy expression still lingering on his lips. 

“I’m almost done, do you want to pop the movie in while I’m finishing up?”

You nodded, then waltzed over to the living room to start up Clue. While the opening credits rolled, Eddie took a seat next to you on the couch and spread out a couple bowls and several pudding cups on his coffee table. 

He handed you a spoon and gestured to the setup in front of you two. 

“I figured we could do like a make-your-own thing, just ‘cause I always find one is never enough, and then you can choose your portions, you know?”

You hummed in agreement. “It’s a pretty good idea.”

Eddie then pointed to the bowl in between the cookie crumble and gummy worms. Inside that one was the creme filling he had just scraped out of the Oreos. 

“Oh, and that’s for you.” 

Just like Eddie earlier, you were super flattered but didn’t want to show your cards. You thanked him for saving you the best part, and then the two of you made your desserts and brought your attention to the movie. 

Somewhere along the way while watching it, you and Eddie had moved from your spots on opposite ends of the couch to meeting somewhere in the middle, wrapped up with each other. 

You were pressed against his side with a hand on his back and an arm around his abdomen. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, and you liked it. He liked it too. And truth be told, you had both pictured yourself before in this exact position—among others. 

As Wadsworth dramatically ran through each murder and event of the night, Eddie subtly looked down to see your entertained expression trained on the TV screen. 

Even though Eddie quite liked the movie you were watching, he liked you more. He was trying to think of a way to make a bigger move on you instead of actually paying attention. 

He was about to do it too. Just as his hands started to wander, there was a knock at his front door that caused you both to back off of each other and turn your heads that way. 

“It’s probably just some kid looking for weed. I’ll be back in a second, you don’t need to pause it.” Eddie told you as he stood up.

“Okay. Hurry up or you’ll miss the ending!” You told him. 

He opened the door and sure enough, it was a kid looking for weed. Some high schooler, maybe seventeen years old. In one hand, he had a couple crumpled bills, and the other one was in his pocket. 

“Someone told me to come here for… stuff.” The kid said to Eddie. 

“Okay, how much do you want?” Eddie replied. 

The boy looked confused, thinking it through. 

“I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was just told to bring money.” 

“Okay, well I’ve got someone over and you’re wasting my time a little bit. How about you just hand me that money, and I’ll bring you whatever that’s worth?”

“Okay.” 

The kid handed over the cash and Eddie told him to stay at the door while he counted the money and walked over to his bedroom. 

He came out with a small baggie in his hand and flashed you a quick apologetic grin before facing the kid again. 

“There you go. Enjoy.” 

Eddie shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch to sit with you again, just as the movie was wrapping up. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping tonight could go interrupted, but that’s never the case, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s alright. I didn’t know you still dealt.”

The staff at the diner was pretty close-knit, and you had heard lots about Eddie selling drugs in high school, but you had figured that was in the past. You weren’t judging, though. People do what they can to pay the bills—you were both working in a diner at the edge of your crappy town, you know all about that. 

“I don’t really. Just from time to time, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Everyone’s gotta do what they can in life. I don’t have a problem, as long as you’re okay with it.” 

“Cool.”

You both just looked at each other for a second, not sure what to say now. Eddie missed the perfect opportunity to make the move he wanted to make on you earlier, and now the movie was over. 

You both silently cursed yourself for not doing what you really wanted to do earlier, but the mood was interrupted by a kid at the door wanting to get high. 

Although you wanted to stay at Eddie’s place for longer, you knew the night was coming to a natural end. 

“I should probably get home soon. I have work in the morning.” 

Eddie was mentally kicking himself for not doing anything earlier, but he definitely wasn’t going to try and convince you to stay since he was aware how that could make him seem. 

“Yeah, okay. I can drive you home.” He stood up and grabbed his car keys from the counter. “You know, Steve’s probably already getting his beauty sleep or something.”

You thanked Eddie and strolled over to him, who was holding the door open for you. 

The two of you walked out to his van, and you slid into the same seat where you had begun the evening. Eddie sat down next to you and flashed you a quick smile before starting the car. 

The ride back to your place was, for the most part, quiet and awkward; it was a sad change from the chemistry you were feeling just an hour ago. 

When you arrived back home, Eddie stopped the car, but you spoke before you got out and the night would be officially over. 

“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I think we should do this again.”

He looked flustered for a moment. It was no more than a second, but you caught it anyway.

“Well, thanks for saying yes, sweetheart. Are you doing anything Sunday?”

“I have a shift in the morning, but I’m done by the early afternoon.”

“Perfect.” Eddie smiled. “I’ll think of something for us to do then.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt as you badly masked a grin. 

“Okay. It’s a date.”

Eddie opened the door on his side, and so you followed suit. 

“You want me to walk you back?” Eddie offered. 

You stood a foot and a half away from Eddie beside his van and looked back to your apartment building. 

“Steve and Robin are probably pressed against the peephole right now, so I don’t know.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly. “Ah, I see. You’ve already got people looking out for you?”

You hummed, biting your lip softly. 

“So…” You trailed off. 

“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. 

That’s when you finally took your chance. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, just by the corner of his mouth. 

You backed away, and Eddie seemed flustered but happy, so you knew it went well. 

“Thanks again. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said quietly. “See you.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie flustered like that. Usually he was calm and collected, or at least yelling, if we’re talking about being in the kitchen at the diner. But very rarely did Eddie blush, and that’s exactly what he did after you kissed him. 

He guessed that it made a lot of sense that you could be the one to make him feel things that no one else can. 

Eddie watched as you walked over to the front of your building and gave him a wave before going inside. His thoughts were moving so fast, he can’t even remember if he waved back. Damn, he hopes he waved back. 

Then, as soon as you were inside and you were both out of each other’s sight, Eddie had to let out his excitement. He took a step out and threw his head forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. 

He stopped the moment he realised you might be able to hear him, and quickly went back into his van. Then he started shouting inside the privacy of those metal walls. 

Eddie was really excited about seeing you tomorrow. 

Little to Eddie’s knowledge, you were just as excited as him, if not even more.

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

PICTURE YOU ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩chappell roan — picture you ♩

pairing: pervy pope, jj, john b x reader

cw: sexual fantasies, the pogues being peeping toms, masturbation.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day five. better late than never!

pope knew was he was doing was wrong. you were his neighbour for christs sake.

at the end of the day, he was but a man— and whilst he had no intention of stooping to full pervert level like this, he had slipped up and bragged to the wrong people, AKA — jj maybank, about how his fine ass neighbour had a certain… routine, every friday night… and would leave her bedroom blinds open for it.

the regret fully kicked in when he opened his front door, seeing the excited expression on his two best friends faces.

“no. i shouldn’t have told you.” is how pope greets them.

“dude it’s fine,” jj reiterates, easily moving past him in the entrance to his house with a clap on the shoulder, an only slightly less enthused john b following closely behind with an awkward but willing smile. “we’re not gonna watch. we’re just gonna… like — happen to glance out the window. while she’s flickin’ the bean.”

“thats — that doesn’t make it any more okay.” pope stresses, following his friends up to his bedroom.

“look, she leaves her blinds open right? isn’t that what you said? have you maybe considered that… possibly, and hear me out on this… she wants to be watched?” john b, usually the voice of reason finds it in himself to convince pope just that little more, wide puppy-like eyes doing most of the convincing. he’s probably the only reason pope hasn’t grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck and hauled them out.

the night goes on, and honestly — the perverted plan is nearly forgotten about until their attention is brought to the window just across from popes, the lamp switching on as you arrived home from work. john b swivels on popes desk chair, nodding his head toward the sight with a whistle.

“oop, shows starting.”

“honey, i’m home.” jj sings out in a high pitched voice, excited for what’s to come.

“you’re so much better than this, john b.” pope deadpans, double taking at jj as he switches off the lights to the bedroom sending them all into darkness. “what the hell?”

“do you wanna get caught creepin’ on your neighbour? no? didn’t think so.”

“you done this before jayj?” there’s a lilt of teasing to the brunettes voice as his blonde counterpart grabs a seat and drags it up beside him, the young adults gathered as they watch your figure dart around the room going about your nightly activities.

“shh.”

the boys curse, ducking down slightly when you suddenly appear at your window, fingers grazing the blinds. they stay deadly still in the dark, barely even breathing as to not draw attention to the fact they’re gathered round to watch you. you look pensive, hesitant, like you’re about to draw the blinds and shut the world out and yet… you don’t. you back away, leaving them open.

“huh.” pope breathes, glancing at his wavy haired friend.

“likes an audience. interesting.” routledge hums, voice deep and breathy.

you begin to undress, and they swear the air in the room gets thicker. peeling your leggings down your legs like they’d been painted onto you for the day creates an audible reaction from your neighbour and his friends, jj even going as far as to stick his knuckle in his mouth.

“god damn.” he garbles, earning a hum of agreement.

“oh you really lucked out here pope. the only neighbour i ever had was a 70 year old woman. trust me when she left her blinds open you look the other way.” john b doesn’t remove his eyes from the scene as he recounts the anecdote, causing pope to screw up his face.

the truth was, pope did have his own fantasies and perversions. he told himself time and time again, he wasn’t watching. he was at his desk first, you left your blinds open. visions of you at the library you worked at, helping him with research in that little mini skirt he saw you wear once. bending over to rummage shelves, sweet fat crescent of your pussy on display through your panties. pope would have no choice but to take you right there on the table behind the bookshelves, the two of you trying to stay quiet as he disappears between your thighs, seeking out that sweet nectar…

when he snaps out of it, you’re already on the bed, in perfect eyeshot of the window. just you, that dim lamp that made your skin seem to glow, an oversized tshirt and some panties.

“you guys don’t feel wrong doing this?” pope speaks in a hushed voice like you might be able to hear.

“how could something so right be so wrong, my friend?” jj pulls out a joint to stick into his mouth, only to have it plucked from his lips and tossed aside by the heyward boy.

“i’m drawing a line.”

“alright, that’s fair.”

“you guys are missing it.” john b hums, entranced by the way you palm at your tits through the top, eyes fluttering shut as your body starts to relax into the bed. “putting on a show for us.”

silence falls upon them finally as they stare, your hands trailing down to lift the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts, massaging the fat and plucking at the nipples.

“oh wow.” pope breathes, jj breaking out into a grin.

“this is some american pie shit right here.”

“grow up.”

“i’m just saying.”

it seems like forever before your hands reach down to your panties, fingers gingerly dusting over the thin fabric of what appears to be baby blue panties with a pink bow at the top centre. jj even swears he can see the gloss of your arousal on your open thighs from where he’s sat. you begin to rub yourself through the material, teasingly and you pull your bottom lip beneath your teeth, sucking in a breath.

“th’atta girl.” john b murmurs, and the air in the room suddenly feels too hot, too stifling. it wasn’t this hot five minutes ago.

“its like i… can’t look away.” pope justifies in just above a whisper, finally perching down to a more comfortable view, watching the way your head tosses side to side, back arching just that little bit as you try and find a better angle. patience leaves you, and you’re pulling the panties off all together.

“would you look at that.” jj marvels, before glancing at his two friends. “y’all mind if i jerk off real quick?”

“what?” pope screws up his face, and john b glances at him.

“yeah, uh. i mind.”

“it can’t wait?” pope adds, shaking his head and jj throws up his hands.

“i thought that’s what we were doing’ here alright my bad!” he dodges john b’s disapproving swat, eyes wide. “oh that’s where you draw the line? y’all are not real freaks.”

“no.” john b shakes his head, pope chiming in with a “thank god.”

but as their attention lands on you once more, your fingers sinking into that glossy hole — they begin to really reconsider their choice.

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

+18 mdni: Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི warnings: manipulation, corruption, use of “daddy”, 18+ mdni!!! hope you enjoy

______ 📁 ⁺______

Rafe knew he was a very corrupted man. He had that kind of power with the business that he owned. He had his eyes on you the minute you stepped foot into the 50 story building. The way your eyes lit up, making you look like a deer in headlights, as you saw everyone running around. He saw the way you were so very desperate for the job. He knew you were the perfect employee. His perfect match and he practically made you the princess of the building.

You had fallen right into his trap. Your heels clicked against the floor as you hurriedly strutted down the hall to bring him his coffee and his morning papers. When the large doors to his office opened you could tell he was stressed, you watched as he rubbed his temples, his eyebrows knitting into an agitated expression. It was wrong of you to cross your legs to stop that tingly sensation between them when you laid his eyes on the way that suit fitted him. His tie was already thrown somewhere in the room, his shirt untucked and loosely unbuttoned, making you want to drool a puddle onto the floor.

“Um! G-good morning Mr. Cameron! I have your papers and your coffee. Just the way you like it.” You raised your eyebrows in a surprised expression with a sweet smile forming on your face. His eyes trailed up your body, examining the cute little outfit you had on. Always dressed so nice. A small smile plastered across his face.

“Mmm. Just what I needed doll.” He walked towards you, grabbing the papers and the coffee from your hands, purposely grazing your fingers as he pulled away. He motioned you towards his desk and you quickly followed behind him. “Y’know. I’ve always liked you. You always had this…this kind of energy that I have never seen in anyone else. Always so eager to please me. Isn’t that right?” You nodded your head in agreement. You’d do anything to get that promotion he’d been hinting at since you started working for him.

He started to open his papers but stopped in his tracks, as if another thought had ran across his brain. His long fingers circled on the desk. “You remember that promotion I had mentioned, right?” He slowly walked around his desk and placed his body right behind you. His broad chest just centimeters away from your back. Your whole body tensed up as you felt him breathe against your neck. He leaned against you, his lips just barely grazing against your ear. “I think you’ve earned it.”

ˎˊ˗⋆｡°✩📄

Rafe had you bent over his desk. His thick cock plunging into your cunt just right. You could feel every vein as it slid in and out, stretching you open rhythmically to each of his thrust. “S-sir. Please I thought you told me I was getting a promotion!” You managed to squeak out as he pounded harder into you, practically pushing the desk away with each movement. You heard a chuckle leave his lips. “This is the promotion doll. What? You thought I’d actually let you get even close to my level in this building. Tsk tsk tsk angel, such a dumb little girl.” You had never felt more humiliated in your life. You couldn’t believe you trusted him. That you had believed the words that had left his mouth months and just a couple of minutes ago. But your cunt was telling a different story. The wet noise coming from down below made you so embarrassed that you felt the blood running through your body become cold. Your mind started to run blank as your juices spilled all over his stomach and his upper thighs. He leaned down, pressing all of his weight against you, making the last bit of air you and leave your body. “Look at you. This is exactly what I was talking about. You think I don’t notice the way you look at me? The way your legs squeeze together anytime I give you the smallest amount of attention.” It was true. You couldn’t deny it. This was something that you had been thinking about since you were hired. “Maybe you could quit this stupid little job. Be my personal little assistant. Get this fucking dick every day of every hour if you wanted. You like that idea huh angel?” You nodded your pretty little head. Oh and that sounded lovely. To never work again and be spoiled for the rest of your life by the sexy man behind you. Your hot tears stained your cheeks as you took every ounce of what he was giving you. That idea sounded amazing. So amazing that a “yes daddy” slipped quietly past your lips but loud enough for Rafe to hear it. He places a wet, sloppy kiss against your bitten plumped lips. “Atta girl.”

Taglist: @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @starkeyisthelastname @venic-bxtch @bunnyrafe @starkeyslove @rafescokewhore @rafecameroninterlude

moodboard for this lovely character, here!

[tiredandoptimistic]

I cannot stop thinking about the poem that comes up if you enter "Stanley" repeatedly and then click on "how he defeated me" a bunch (written out fully with analysis under the cut). I've never been a big Bill fan, but you can bet your ass I'm obsessed with Stan Pines, and I can't believe I never fully thought through the parallels between them.

"Stanley Pines, the common clown,

Always dragged his family down.

One mistake, disowned, denied.

Only thing to do was hide.

One way out: the open road.

Reinvent, retry, reload.

A girdle, eyepatch, father's fez,

'I'm a new man!' so he says.

Couldn't outrun life's regrets,

Just kept placing bigger bets.

Changed his haircut, switched hotels-

Truth is just whatever sells.

When you've lost track of your lies,

When the poison starts to rise,

When the walls are closing in,

When it's clear you cannot win,

When your actions make it worse,

When they see you as a curse,

Give the wheel one last spin,

Take your chips and go all in,

And Lucky Stan- the roll's on black,

He got his life and family back.

His big break, it finally came,

Redemption from a life of shame.

You really think you won the day.

You packed your bags and sailed away.

You think you left the past behind.

But trust me

I'm still on your mind"

Combine this with some of the other things Bill says in the pages leading up to the poem, (calling him "Bootleg Sixer," ranting about how Stan is useless and only defeated Bill by following Ford's plan, etc), and it makes me wonder if Bill ever really believed in his own schemes.

Bill clearly values and respects Ford while deriding Stan, and yet many of the things he criticizes about Stan are also true about himself ("always dragged his family down," "one mistake," "reinvent, retry, reload," "just kept placing bigger bets," hell, "truth is just whatever sells" feels like a direct parallel to "reality is an illusion). In my mind, this implies that on some level he believes that people like him and Stan are destined for misery, but he convinced himself that he'd be satisfied with power and chaos, something that Stan gave up for his family.

Stan is someone who functions like Bill on a surface level while being fundamentally different in ways Bill can't even comprehend. To Bill, it's unfair that Stan "got his life and family back" while he is still alone in the universe, because he can't get his head around the fact that Stan is just a better person who worked to make up for his failures and earn his redemption in a way Bill never did. It wasn't just "his big break," Stan didn't win a bet or something. He spent thirty years committing himself to being the protector of his family and rescuing his brother from the exile he caused, and all that love and effort paid off in the end. He genuinely gave a fuck while remaining goofy and brash. Stan didn't need to become like Ford in order to be worthy, and so he works as an example of how people like them can thrive. It's proof that Bill's chaos isn't inherently inferior, it's Bill himself who couldn't hack it. He can respect Ford as an ally or an adversary, that logic might be able to triumph over chaos; but Bill cannot stand that Stanley was able to beat him at his own game.

[loviingpedri]

tripling the fun -jude and jobe bellingham

prompt: three best friends take over the house by babysitting the bellingham boys’ two nephews and niece.

pt.2 here

bellinghams & fem!reader platonic friendship

warnings: grammar issues, all characters are fictional (except jude and jobe ofc)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

knocking on the door, anticipation grew.

you have grown up with jude and jobe, considering your parents and their parents were very close friends.

you practically were like their sister. you did everything with them. you were there at their biggest accomplishments or lowest levels.

the door opened to jude and jobe’s aunt, ready for dinner. recently, the bellingham boys recently had a new addition to their family, a little baby nephew. the parents had 3 kids, and one still being about 6 months old, it was a major hassle. they needed a little break, some time for themselves.

who else better to call? the famous trio!

the parents trusted you and the brothers very much. trust me, the babies were in good hands. (might be delusional, but we’ll see!)

“oh my goodness, thank you guys for coming.” the mom hugged all of you. giving you a little peek on the cheek.

suddenly, jude and jobe’s uncle appeared behind her. “you’re here! thank you guys. come in.” stepping into the house, you were met with cold air.

“i see the kids really love this house.” you spoke with a smile as you noticed toys were scattered around the floor. ending your sentence, jobe nearly tripped over a toy truck.

catching himself as you were frightened for him, the three of you burst into a laughter.

“okay mate, it’s not that funny.” jobe said while pushing the truck away from his path.

“jobe, how do you not see a bright yellow and green truck?” jude was dying from laughter.

“i’m really grateful that you took this opportunity. it has been quite awhile since my husband and i have gone out.”

suddenly, a huge commotion was made. all eyes going to the stairway, you could see a little boy about the age of 6 running down the stairs in a little dinosaur onesie.

“there’s my little guy!” the boy ran into jude’s arms into a tight hug.

“i knew it! i knew you were coming! i heard your voice.”

“did you really?” jude fixed his onesie and gave him a little pat on the back.

then, you heard a door slam. staring at the stairs once again, you could see a 4 year old girl in a pink princess dress with a tiara and wand, strutting down with a bright smile (and one missing tooth).

“all hail the princess.” jobe spoke as she slowly walked down with her head held up high. smiles appeared on everyone’s faces, except her brother’s. she only earned an eye roll from him.

finally reaching downstairs, you curtsied to her as jude and jobe did a little bow.

breaking character, she did not hesitate to run to jobe. giving him the biggest hug he has probably ever been given.

“i think the baby is still asleep. the formula is already prepped since he should be waking up soon. we have to get going, good luck guys!” quickly grabbing her purse and getting the hell out of there with her husband, it was time to finally have some fun and bonding times.

“alright kiddos, what should we do today?” jude put down his nephew and immediately patting his head for reassurance.

“we should build a castle!” jobe, also putting down the niece, agreed.

“what kind of castle?”

“castles are for losers!” her big brother snarled at her.

“now, dinosaurs may be big and strong, but they are certainly not rude.” you bent down to his level. he crossed his arms, but unexpectedly, you started tickling him.

“tickle attack!” jude yelled as everyone was tickling the dinosaur and princess.

all laughter came to a quick stop. cries of a baby were echoing throughout the house. jude and jobe were no professionals for caring for a child under 1, therefore both synchronized to look at you for help.

and to be honest, you wanted to hold that baby forever. your motherly instincts kicked in. running up the stairs, you could not wait. meeting the little guy at just 2 months old, he was probably the most adorable baby you’ve ever seen (maybe because he looks a little like baby jude, but we’re gonna ignore that fact).

slowly and gently opening the door, you were met with a baby with a small tear falling down his cheek, but having the brightest smile as soon as he saw you. your heart melted.

“aren’t you the cutest,” you picked him up and could see his chubby face and rolls on his arms. “the baby fever is really kicking in.”

wiping the little tear, you placed his head on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs. putting your hand on his semi-bald head to create a shield just in case, jude and jobe lit up to seeing him.

crowding the little one, jude took him into his arms as you prepared the milk. in the kitchen, you were met with a little princess eating a sugar cookie (jobe couldn’t say no to her).

“hello your royal highness.” you gave a smile to her as you grabbed a little bottle.

“hi y/n. how’s it going?”

“it’s going great! how’s your cookie?”

“it’s good. you should be a mom.”

the statement created a pause for you. the measuring cup filled with formula almost fell on the counter.

“sorry ma’am, but what?”

“you should be a mom.”

“oh no thank you, it is definitely not for me.”

“well you definitely need a boyfriend. i have one! his name is james, he’s 6. i like them older.”

“hold on, you’re talking about your brother’s friend?”

“yep! that james. he’s so dashing. you know you should get with jude.” a frown appeared on your face. kids are full of creative ideas, but this was not on your bingo card.

“i really appreciate your feedback, but i need time to review this information.” jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen, giving you a scare.

“what are y’all talking about?”

in panic, you shouted “nothing!” which created high suspicion. the princess got off the chair after finishing the cookie, and walking off with jude.

finishing on making the bottle, you weren’t sure on what you were about to see, but it was definitely a sight.

jude and jobe bellingham were in pink and purple tutu’s and tiaras. you gasped at the sight.

“y/n, please don’t laugh.” jobe pleaded, sensing his embarrassment already.

“who said i was gonna laugh?” you picked up the baby trying to hide the fact, you were gonna laugh. sitting on the couch to feed him, the boys were being ordered around.

“alright, what’s next to protect the precious princess?”

“it is i! the knight! and i have come to destroy this kingdom!” the once dinosaur jumped out from the hallway holding a fake sword and shield.

the princess let out a tiny scream.

“uncle jude! protect the castle now!” jude nodded in agreement as he picked up a fake sword and play fighting with the knight. tutu’s were dropping and tiaras were falling.

“meanwhile you, uncle jobe, you should totally dance with me.” hiding your smile with the bottle, jobe didn’t really have a choice.

the house was chaotic. a ballerina and knight were battling it out, jobe and the princess were turning and spinning. jobe even had a little purple magic wand as his prop for his dance recital. you were glad you could lay back with a baby who did not give any trouble.

the fun continued to grow as the night went.

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x period!reader

title: im a baby you're holding

warnings: descriptions of blood, nudity (not sexual), pain, fluff that will make your heart ache!

a/n: sorry not sorry, this is cute and I know I should've done a period comfort sooner. posted this at three am btw. as always sorry for typos, this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. enjoy babes.

-

It as rainy out, I could tell by the small window up by the ceiling of the basement, it was grey outside, the sky and the clouds gave me a feeling of home along with the smell of dirt. I was huddled against a corner of the basement, my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them, I was bleeding... Yes it is as it may seem. I moved to the cold uncomfy ground because God knows how Albert would respond if I had bled on the mattress.

Though the mattress is already quite dirty, I didn't want it to be blood. He could think so many things and one of them would be my self harm, he didn't believe me when I said I wanted to stay with him, at least not yet, and time again he'd show me how much he trusted me and id show how much I trusted him. But today was different, I was waiting for dinner, for him to unlock that door and see the bloody mess on the blood.

Would he get mad? Hed punish me by leaving me alone in the dark in which he knew I feared, but only time will tell how he'd react and I waited, my heart calm pounding in my chest. But then I heard that door unlock it fluttered like a moth, it wanted out. I flinched but kept my head down. He entered, he set the tray down on the hard floor and squatted down to my level, he was close I could hear his breathing through the mask.

He pet my hair, he hummed softly. "Hmh, bunny?"

I looked up my eyes teary and glossy as I did, his eye grew soft in his mask and looked down to the blood below us, I immediately felt the tension and guilt. He titled his head at this but didn't say anything about it. But he spoke once again.

"You've earned so much trust from me, I don't want you to be scared over something that is bound to happen." I couldn't help it, I started crying even more. He sighed and pulled me close. "Shh, I gotcha." He put my head on his chest, he rocked side to side gently.

"I suppose you'd want to get cleaned up?" I nodded a little, his voice became lighter like he was happy and almost amused. "Yeah?" I knew he was smiling under the mask.

He helped me up to my feet, it was clear I was sitting in the same spot for a while, my nightgown was soaked in blood. He walked to he basement door and opened it, he looked back at me. "Come on... I promise it's alright." 

I walked towards him and as we walked up the steps he kept his hands over my eyes, making sure I didn't trip over a step and made sure I walked to the bathroom without looking, I understood why he didn't want me to. There was a flick of a light switch and a closing of a door. He uncovered my eyes. I was in a bathroom, the toilet next to the sink and in front of the sink was the bath, he turned on the water. 

He put the plug in the drain, "I'll have to stay here with you while you bathe. I can't have you trying anything can I?" He patted my head.

I titled my head a little, he laughed at this. "Don't worry Bunny, I won't do anything you won't like. What's important is we get you clean." 

The water went, I was feeling a little shy, he sighed at this and spoke once again. "I'll be back. You get undressed and in the water."

He left the bathroom, I did what I was told. I got undressed and slipped into the hot water it made my body relax and I settled but I kept my knees pressed against my chest. He came back in with a new nightgown. "I suppose I can say I was prepared for this." 

He also had some new underwear for me... And a pad. I felt loved, so loved. He crouched down from the outside of the bath and grabbed a bar of soap. "Now, I can't do this unless you tell me it's alright." His voice was stern like he meant it.

"It's okay..." I said. He looked at me to double check it was really okay before he started to rub my back with the bar of soap, and brought it to the front of my chest on my collarbone. I slowly put my knees down. 

It's not like I felt uncomfortable but I was in a vulnerable state. He didn't want to make me uncomfortable nor did he have any intentions of it. He just made sure I got clean before getting my hair wet and he was trying to be very gentle, he's never done this before and it showed. I giggled a little and I saw his eyes look at me through his mask. 

He didn't say anything but I knew he smiled a little as he continued to wash my hair. He rinsed me and that's when he started speaking again. "Feel good?" His voice was light. 

I nod a little and once he got me rinces he stood up, putting his hands on his knees and he grabbed a towel... His towel from the wrack and held it open. "Let's get you dry." 

I stood up slowly, it was clear I was in some pain, he dried me gently and he me some privacy to get dressed and situated. Once I was done he sighed. "I understand... Cramps may be a problem."

I didn't say anything but he knew it was a very likely possibility and didn't need my word to take action. He held out his hand for me to take. Almost like you would a child, and I took it. He led me back to the basement and got me back on the mattress. 

He sighed, "I'll get you something for the pain." He whispered like he didn't want me to hear but at the same time he did.

When he came back he had a hot water bottle, he sat next to me again. "lay down." His voice is soft once again, I do so. He gently placed it on my lower tummy and rubbed the side of my hip. 

He didn't want to leave me alone, he felt so sad I had to stay down here in the dark, in pain. He knew periods weren't fun and he just had a spot in his heart to want to stay, so he did. He lied next to me but he didn't touch me, not wanting me to be uncomfortable but I didn't want him to think it would so I scooted closer to him.

I knew he was smiling a bit under his mask. He put his hand on my forehead and stroked me gently till I was able to relax from the pain and go to sleep.

And through the night he made sure that hot water bottle stayed warm, even if it meant him having to get up the stairs and all the way back down. 

He kissed my forehead and slept next to me, he was a light sleeper and when he heard me start to whine from the pain he immediately woke. "Oh. Shh, shh, shh." He cooed.

He stroked my cheek, he whispers gently. "Breathe, focus on my voice."

I sniffled, I was subconsciously holding onto his sleeve but he didn't mind. He smiled at how much he was able to help and he kissed and rested his lips on my forehead for about five seconds before rubbing my tummy gently. Making sure I fell asleep once again.

[luc-obsession]

Taken

Diluc sat in his office chair, skimming over his monthly stack of vendor contracts and trade agreements. He signed about half the ones he read.

He no longer sat besides his lawyer - he knew enough legal jargon to read these papers alone. He also knew the tricks of the trade, which half of his customers tried to pull.

It seemed they were hoping he’d miss a word or two, or forgive the typos of an extra 0 they’d make.

He had no problems from his older, more experienced clients; it was the newer ones who typically made these exploitative “mistakes”.

He’d teach them that he maintained the upper hand - or at least equal footing - in all his dealings.

And you were no exception.

His door opened.

Two of his maids, holding you by your wrists, brought you inside.

Diluc thanked them; they nodded in response.

They left, closing the door behind them. A click followed.

You shrunk back from him.

Diluc knew you were hurt - betrayed, even. He had taken you for his own gain.

He brought you here to deal with the aftermath.

“Have a seat.”

You sat down, avoiding his eyes. There were dried tears on your face.

“Ask me anything. I know you have questions.”

You remained silent. This wouldn’t do.

“Answer me.”

A string of obscenities left your lips. This also wouldn’t do.

“Play nice, or I’ll cut your portions.”

Again, you fell silent. Then you started singing his tune.

“I trusted you, Diluc! So why did you betray me?”

“Sumeru is quite dangerous. I hear the enemies there are twice as harmful as Liyue’s.”

Diluc needed back your trust. What better way to earn it than a few well-crafted lies?

“But I know my way around a fight!”

“Not enough to defeat a Level 90 Terrorshroom with only Hydro and a sword.”

Both of which he’d taken from you.

“I’m keeping you here for your protection, and you were eager to go.”

You sighed.

“If you went and never returned…I don’t think I could bear it.”

“Look, I think it’s great you care about my safety and all, but adventuring is who I am.”

You were right. The light in your eyes had dimmed - because of him.

If he let you indulge yourself and explore Sumeru, you’d leave him for over a month, and possibly never return.

If you stay with him, you’d never leave Mondstadt again. You’d lose the thing that made you, you. The very reason he loved you.

It was already beginning to fade.

Still, he wouldn’t be Diluc if the only person keeping him sane left for so long.

He couldn’t go back to being a shadow of his former self.

“I understand, but I need you.”

Your eyes widened.

“Is that the actual reason you kidnapped me?”

“Yes, my love.”

“But I don’t return your feelings,” you spat. “I only love good men!”

“I am a good man. I’m keeping you safe, aren’t I?”

“I’d rather die than live with you!”

That hurt. But he wasn’t surprised.

Diluc clapped his hands twice. There was nothing more he could say.

His maids opened the door again.

“Come, we’re going back to your room.”

“Back to your room.”

They grabbed your wrists and marched you out of the door.

You longed for Teyvat’s treasures, but Diluc couldn’t let you have them. So he’d do the next best thing: spoil you into longing for him instead.

. . .

Every morning, Diluc laid a massive breakfast on your dresser.

Whenever he made steak, you’d get stacks of four, with cheese slices sandwiched in between. He’d give you enough hash browns to fill your plate, piled high enough to reach the jelly bowl in the center.

The night after your discussion, he’d gotten his maids to test every soap on the market. They wouldn’t stop until they found the one that made their hands gentlest, hair smoothest, and faces clearest. Then they picked that brand in the scent you loved most, all on Diluc’s dime.

You bathed in that daily. When you came out, you were dressed in the finest silk robes and dresses, doubly as soft as the ones you used to wear.

He’d ordered you a copy of each of Mondstadt’s and Inazuma’s most popular book series, up to the latest volumes. He knew how much you loved Yae’s tales.

But not Sumeru’s. That would remind you of his transgression, and Diluc was determined to make you forget.

He gave you bottles of your favorite wines. Let you play games of Invocation TCG with his maids, or even him, if you’d like.

He even let your old friends visit, once he’d made clear that you weren’t going anywhere.

But nothing he did brought back your old smile. Nothing revived the light that once shone in your eyes.

He’d turned you into the very thing he was afraid to become.

Now he couldn’t stand the sight of his own reflection.

[court-jobi]

Learn by Doing

((Banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work or Hirune's gorgeous art))

Pairing: Aizawa x reader (American!Pro Hero (fem)reader)

Words: 4.4k

Rating: T+

Warnings: ANGST/COMFORT, canon-typical fights mentioned, light injuries, minimal pronouns used, big feelings turned big confessions, reader is not very demure/mindful in this one and that's refreshing to me, Hizashi Yamada is a good friend, emotionally constipated Aizawa needs a hug

Summary:

You’re in trouble with just about everyone, in some way. Mixed reviews at best… but no doubt in trouble with your agency, the damage control unit, and most notably– Shouta Aizawa. You can look the President of the Hero Public Safety Commission in the face should you ever royally mess up; but not a disappointed ‘Zawa. 

In the moment, you expect to have to avert your sights from his trademark flat look of disapproval. But instead, you are honed in– finding him more raw than ever before. Turns out, Aizawa wasn’t just angry: he’s scared. He’s an angry crier, and that scares you straight. 

A/N: Omg I've been sitting proofing this one for so long, trying to get it right, until... i just needed to release it to the hounds of the internet. Just some friendly neighborhood AngstZawa for your viewing pleasure.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Back in your beloved UA building, you expect Shouta Aizawa to start up the lecture you’re due for, but still- nothing from him. 

No word when you rejoined the team outside the raided building. No word when you received mixed praises of success from your superiors: who might have given all glowing remarks if it wasn’t for your unorthodox way of earning them that had them worried there for a moment. There’d be more investigation and potentially some penalties for tonight’s actions, even if the result was overwhelmingly positive. Though through each step of your mission debrief, Aizawa was dead quiet.

Not a single word from him -even out of comfort- when you got checked over by the medics on site, and nothing still on your drive back to UA courtesy of an equally tense Hizashi Yamada, who could no doubt feel ‘the energy of the studio’ tonight.

Hizashi looked at you sympathetically between the surface level chatter you two share in the car. Behind his aloofness behind the wheel, you gathered there wasn’t much he could say to appease the storm that he knew might be looming behind Aizawa’s nearly shut eyes. Per usual, said hero remained like a mouse in the backseat, his silence blaring loud. The twinkle in Hizashi’s eyes offered only the unspoken wish that you’d be patient and keep your pretty chin up. You relied on this energy, because it stems from a lifetime of knowing Shouta Aizawa and carries confidence, and have to trust in that history- even if you held a healthy amount of nerves from his silence that you’re certain is burning a hole into the back of your head in the car.

‘Zashi would ordinarily have said a quick ‘good luck’ once you parked… if ‘Zawa wasn’t waiting right outside your door, for you. This time, you merely gave a muted word of thanks and got on your way from the passenger’s seat.

The uncomfortable quiet remains when Yamada heads to the teacher’s lounge while you and your co-teacher head back to the dorms to check on the students and head to bed yourselves. However, when Aizawa veered to the South A tower -toward his classroom- he paused and checked for you in his peripheral– the unspoken command to follow rings loud and clear.

Even though you obeyed with a step behind him, your spirit was hardly calm like the night air around you. Aggravated by your still present headache, your pulse keeps thumping in your ears as you step through the still, minimally-lit hall. 

Aizawa opened the door to his room, holding it for you, while turning his head back down the hallway- away from your face as if he couldn’t spare the glance. 

God, this silent treatment. It’s juvenile, you’d think, if he didn’t radiate so much stern control that unnerved even the most upright student.

But the minute the door closes with his lock to seal you both in, Aizawa’s trademark drone returns– lethal as ever.

“You've sure got a lot of nerve, Miss America.”

Finally. 

You can take the dig at what reputation precedes you. At the end of the day, Aizawa tends to hear you out, no matter the tone, so you’re simply glad to be on talking terms again.

…but that doesn’t mean you’re entirely passive. You’re known for your sugar and spice. Unable to curb your attitude, you make no attempt to hide how much his pouting annoyed you, 

“Had enough of my chatty time-out, huh?”

“I find berating anyone when they’re already down to be cruel and ineffective,” Aizawa merely shrugs his coat off, then nods to the desks facing him at the front of the classroom. “But to say you don't need to get a firm talking-to would be delusional.”

The knocking around you received is a wound enough, so you’re thankful he doesn't mean to pour lemon juice right on it with a snappy reflex of ‘you should have been more careful’, with regards to your scrapes. But quite the long debrief awaits you now, nonetheless.

No, you know the events that got you to the point of overextension and liability must have been the bigger concern: 

"Look I get it,” you finally settle on the lip of the desk, Young Ojiro’s. “To you, that was a hothead move. But I've been around the block with ops like this, it’s far from my first...” 

You stress that your ‘nerve’ was not misplaced while Aizawa rounds his desk to loosen and stow his capture weapon.

“-but you saw on those cameras, they were teetering Iseri and Koshito too close to the edge- I couldn't just--"

"Both of whom are plenty prepared for these situations."

“But they’re kids-”

“They graduated four years ago, and have been in the pro circuit for the last three. They're not UA students anymore, and certainly not our direct reports. Those were the roles assigned in the mission terms, and you signed them.”

The shortness in Aizawa’s voice ignites so many things in you. Namely, outrage. Being shut down and interrupted has been -and continues to be- a big temper trigger for you.

But you remember, above everything else you know of the teacher: facts over feelings is the tactic that’s going to land with him. You had to lean into the rational side of things in order to explain yourself. 

The truth was, you were afraid he wouldn't trust you again. 

Over the last two years, you've trained with these students together. This year’s class is particularly promising -and challenging- due to the ridiculous amount of villain interferences you've faced as a staff… that you've faced together. More than any other sidekick, any other partner, Aizawa has been your anchor in all the ways that matter- even those unspoken.

Thankfully he’s in a listening mood now, and you hope it’s enough of an opening to talk this out. Since reapplying some eyedrops, Aizawa is solely set on figuring out what was wrong with his goggles. He’d gotten smacked around a good bit, too, though not as harsley as you. He’s scraped along his good cheek just a touch from a square hit to the face, though the poor lackey who chose to come at him with cheap moves didn't fare as gently. 

You train your volume down a pitch, seeking out a more tender part of the man before you. A still, small hope holds true that he could follow your line of reason enough to not dismiss you entirely. You couldn't bear that thought. 

"You trusted my judgment and I clearly see that I broke that... but I did nothing to put anyone at risk outside of myself, and when I see another way that can spare others, I take it. Without the visual outside, without any signal, I couldn't see any other ways to follow the plan, or else I would have done it,”

You press on, joining him in front of his desk now. Things are improved, him speaking to you, but not perfect. He’s not looked you in the eye in hours. So, you’d make yourself impossible to ignore. 

“I went off-book, and I acknowledge that. But please know that I don’t go rogue for nothing. Not because I feel like it, certainly!”

Still, no response. 

You flick at the still itchy residue from the butterfly bandages stretched taught at your temple and cheekbone. 

“You see this and think that's bad.. Imagine watching me pulling moves like that five years ago when I thought I was hot shit, n’where that would have gotten me…”

Aizawa’s jaw worked as he clasped and unclasped the hinge on his specs.

Unnecessary; they’re not broken badly. Anxious? Surely not.

“Aizawa, please say som-"

The goggles resound with plastic clatter on the table; its owner rounded the corner with blazing irises, and not one lit by any quirk. 

Aizawa in all his intimidating glory came close fast while leaving a desk’s distance between you, his eyes turning from anger- to fear- to utter heartbreak.

"There were other plans. There will always be alternatives. Solutions that don’t involve anyone, if you’d just slow down for a second to think.” 

“What solutions?!”

“They called Oversight in- who brought drones. He was on call the whole time,” Aizawa fired anger in short, perfect jabs, “Or did you ‘forget’ reading that, too?”

You’re put on notice quick.

“Wh– he was?”

“He took point on leveling tactics for the building. The city came with artificial reinforcements, too- diversions he created and leased to them for reconnaissance, tech designed to work on command without room for any human error,” Aizawa finally grits out his impeccable perspective, 

“We knew your radio went down, and we knew we had to get you help or else you'd be blind, so we called in  failsafes– but your blasting through going a mile a minute the moment we lost contact was far from rational. You didn’t even give us a chance to try and help.”

Shame bubbles where indignancy once filled you. 

You speed-read through the mission brief- overly confident, perhaps, and missed- -honestly, a key detail that might have changed everything. You’re clearly not used to serving on a team this large, this wide of a support net, and it shows.  Hyper-independence was costly now.

“...I.. didn't hear that.”

“No you didn't,” Aizawa answered cooly and aired his grievances further,

“You look at what's right in front of you, but you've got these blinders on, and that's one of the most dangerous things you can do in battle. You’re part of a team now, but you’re still acting like a vigilante. That’s reckless, no matter how seasoned you are. Think about Kaminari: you think he doesn’t look around before he sets off thousands upon thousands of volts in every direction before he acts? Or that Todoroki doesn’t consider if his ice is going to freeze out any bystanders or harm himself in the process? Each one of their actions can be costly: to those around them, and themselves.”

You swallow your idealistic pride beating beneath your chest, because you know he’s right. 

On that exposed open platform of the building, you’d been so worried about who had been close to the edge, that you tried to divert all attention to yourself in order to get them away from that precipice.

Your actions, your ‘diversion’ resulted in a tousle that: yes, gave the younger rookies a better chance at a safe exit, but landed you square in the trap yourself, and in limited range to the still-fighting thug who was not just caught, but pissed.  You’d also created more work for the Net Hero below to cast a gridlock wide enough to grab the villain effectively. 

As a long-distance fighter, those were poor odds you subjected yourself to. You’re lucky to have gotten out as smoothly as you have.

“I know that. And I am sorry–” you gestured to your own new set of blooming bruises for good measure, “-- and I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson… That’s how you say your students learn best, right? ‘Learn by doing, learn what stings’?”

–Aizawa’s upper lip jolts in a scowl. Wrong thing to say.

“That’s not a win,” Aizawa threatens lowly. “No one in their right mind would be celebrating something like this. Injuries happen, but they shouldn't be needless.”

You wince, torn between guilt and annoyance again. 

“Yeah, well, I get it’s needless now, but I didn’t know what I didn’t know. At some point, we have to call mistakes what they are, and leave it, right?” 

“This is too important to drop,” Aizawa growls, “and I won’t, until I know you understand. This isn’t a test, this isn’t for a grade. This is serious. You’re getting hurt over it.”

Your defense was wearing thin, but you stood your ground. A more sassier remark would have been along the lines of dooming yourself to the ‘stupid Americans’ club till you’re inevitably deported- but that would be too emotional of a response, and not helpful. A fool’s hope was all you could carry now. 

You studied Aizawa for anything that would level out his respect for you- praying he held any. –you square yourself before him after as deep a breath as your winded lungs can give you– 

“I was wrong,” you pressed the point once again, “I overlooked key information that would have impacted my actions. I can -and will- learn from this and do better, and even do my part in meeting with more of our allies so I can work with them, not around them. Get all the information, and actually use it... And I don’t have to stick my dumb ass out on the line like a rookie, with shit like that.”

Aizawa agrees, but doesn’t look altogether happy about your apology.

“Any of those steps would have sufficed- if you truly couldn’t stick to the plan…”

You’re waiting for a final lesson learned, but receive a strange pang of emotion from Aizawa’s firmly set stare–

“But plans may still fail. You’re going to have to go off-book, it’s inevitable. I’m not slighting you for that. But if there’s one thing you have to keep at the front of your mind, it's that there’s only one you.”

You’ve been guarded this year. On edge, day after day, by threat of attack at all hours. You accepted this role as a teacher to help bolster the faculty’s support staff of heroes with the rising crime rates, but have come to enjoy the job on a much deeper level- in a way you wouldn’t have experienced without Aizawa specifically at your side…

This feeling -safety, even in the most uncertain circumstances- radiates from him whenever you’re together. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing; you don’t have to be in pressing danger or fight-or-flight to feel it. It’s a constant hum of assurance from Aizawa that settles your spirit and draws you to him. 

By action, he never pronounces his entrance or use flamboyant body language; rather it’s his subtle and meaningful motions that aim to soothe.  With his words, he says what he means, and doesn’t sugar coat things– and by that very token, you know even the kindest of affirmations that come out of him must also be true- few and far between as they are.

Those signs are all subtleties that point to a very private person. Ultimately, if you did not know him so well by daily interactions, you may never have picked up how a man like him truly feels. 

Only right now, you can’t help but see it. Every emotion he’d hold inside is palpable. He does feel very strongly, and you’re gifted by its raw power: even as you are the sole audience for such a show.

There’s something in his eyes that’s not so much angry, but pained. It’s rearing up like wings to make itself appear bigger than it is, but also to shield away from unwanted eyes. It forces you to stare back, and not look away. Demands you attention, because this matters.

It’s scared.

“I know you don't give a damn what you think of yourself,” he says cautiously, “but the rest of us do care what happens to you-”

The words your nursing friend had said at the hospital tending to your most recent injuries. That this is beyond a dauntless streak of selflessness, but that your life has value and meaning. Aizawa must not have been ignoring you fully earlier. Hearing him say this proves that he had overheard you both after all– and to an extent agrees. 

Damn, your pride doesn’t like hearing that. And damn your self-deprecating sense of humor: the one that’s not-so-funny to the Japanese populace, apparently. 

You cross your arms, a flit of sarcasm dripping as a defense mechanism:

“Ok, Doc– I get it–”

“I’m not Doctor Mori.” Aizawa snapped, void of patience. “Or your darling Suzuki for that matter.”

Your two best friends, the latter whom you share a group chat with who will also not be happy hearing what's happened to you today. Neither would negate anything Aizawa has told you so far. In fact they'd agree, wholeheartedly.

Furthermore, they know what he means to you, too. Beyond your hero work, beyond your classroom partnership… 

They know Aizawa makes your world go ‘round. You practically set your clock to his time, so that you might be in sync and have something reliable in your life. You learn from him, you thrive by him, you're thankful for how you've grown and how you continue to feel when he looks your way. It's all genuine, and you appreciate that in a level that's perhaps become more than that of friends. 

Guilt twinges the strength left in your words, 

“I know you're not… your say matters, too.”

“Well your actions sure as hell aren't matching. You say my words have weight? Then you listen to me now.”

Aizawa flares his sights at you, rounding the last tabletop between you as he does so.

“I don’t expect half measures from you and I would never ask that of you. I do believe you are a great hero, and I believe you’re going to give your all, don’t misinterpret that. Never doubt that. But for whatever it's worth- if it even means to you what it means to me- you don’t just have a circle of people who want you and need you… who doesn’t just see you as another name on a mission roster, or just an asset to a team… But there are people who hate watching you dance with danger like it’s something only you can do, not when you have someone who will be at your side.. As we fight it together.”

Before irritated disbelief could settle across your face– Aizawa’s fight-worn hands that had laid fisted by his side flew up and cupped the base of your skull.

Aizawa’s eyes sting red with tears; wet emotion bared in your presence for the first time. 

“You are my breath,” Aizawa manages your name desperately, “My anchor, and my light, and you’re holding what little heart I have left, and I can’t lose you.. to this.”

–his words had you shocked speechless. Your heart could break itself looking back in those eyes. 

You sense the hurt bursting from the seams right in front of you– hurt that had rendered him silent for much of your journey back here. You can't imagine having been the one who scared him this much, someone you truly believed was immovable. 

Aizawa’s given you something far more important than a down-to-earth talk. It’s a beautiful confession you never saw coming.

Your hand cups his wrist back gently, its tendons tremble underneath you. He asked you to call him by name, so you would.

"Z-. Shouta..."

His eyes shut, and he falls forward, his forehead to yours. Containing tears within, Aizawa steeled his deep voice again:

"I have these nights… nights with dreams so bad, I can't wake when I want to. And then others, where I never want the good dream to stop. You're in both, and that scares me to no end."

His fingers bear down on the hastily thrown-on menthol patch you'd not get spent the minimal seconds it takes to affix straight. He feels the raising bump under the pads of those fingers, feeling evidence of your recklessness yet again. 

“I lived a life without you. It feels so long ago now...after we met, after you stood by me at city hall–I don't want anything less. Never again. I just want you to be more careful about these things."

Tears pricked yours, too. Never would you have imagined a close call would have affected him like this. Out of the hundreds of nights you’ve rounded up villains together, you’d broken the final straw of his resolve.

He cares. He cares for you. You dare to think he may love you– and found this as his way to say it. 

"I was- I really didn't-- I'm sorry, Shouta. Please..."

His eyes opened at your voice calling.

"Then promise me."

"Promise?"

"Promise me you won’t take these risks again. Not alone. Not when you have someone in your corner... Someone who can help you see past the hurt, the vengeance– whatever is going through your head that you’re thinking you need to prove. We can make something better from it. Smarter. I’ve walked that path; I know it well.”

You nod in his hold; your oath back to him, as he lays it all out. Were this a written love letter, you’d memorize every line. 

“-but promise me you'll never scare me like this. Not when it’s avoidable. Don’t ever do this again."

Aizawa’s voice fell to a choked whisper by the end. The last window of his strength crumbled like settling dust while his thumbs scroll your temples reverently.

You swallow tensely, nodding all the quicker, 

"Yes, I promise, yes.” You’ll fuck things up differently, sure, but not like tonight’s show of heroics.

Aizawa shuddered; it sank in. "Thank you."

Still, you made it your job to make him believe, so you lifted up off the desk to stand before him. Fighting the burn in your arms was a worthy cause when rising to hug him– and rewarded you instantly as he reciprocated. You relished in the feeling, the warmth from his breath on your neck, how securely his arms held you tight, the caring hand that fisted the back of your hair in an intimate gesture. 

There was nowhere else you'd rather be. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes close in his hold. You’d tell him someday, but you���ve dreamt of him to, though not so heartbreaking in memory, as he shared with you. Many of your dreams settled on moments just like this; tame, warming fantasies that you wished you could share with him as a break from the chaos. Because he deserved softness, too.

And here he was: hugging you. You smile. Shouta Aizawa -man of a thousand sleepless nights- is fucking hugging you. Hizashi will never believe this.

You felt the change the minute your name crossed the line of Aizawa’s lips. His shoulders sagged and he pressed into you, his hands loosening and patting your hair, the fierce nature in which he'd captured you melting into a protective caress.

The man’s face still sunk inwards, weary as he met your eyes. Where was that look coming from? He seemed so worried, like he wanted to say something but was trying hard not to. His gaze darted to your lips to your cheeks- basking in every bit of this moment, like he'd never get the chance to be this close again.

Hearing his inhale at the touch, your hand smoothed over his heart, purposefully, lovingly. Eyes locked, you tipped your head to the side and lifted your chin to be clear to him- an invitation. The corners of his mouth lift. 

I feel the same, you want to cry to him. But with his emotions still sitting under the surface, you will yourself to be the strong one.. just for a moment longer. You’ll share your vulnerability once the pain meds wear off.

Aizawa met you halfway in one fell swoop. Still tender from your fight, you brought his lips to yours to seal in the promise made. 

This kiss was more than you imagined. Impossibly gentle lips, dizzying warmth, the lowest of hums leading into it. Had he been angry, it might have been a growl, but you’re sure you would've jumped on it anyway. The energy he gave into this first kiss caught even you by surprise.

After another drawn out press, you bowed your foreheads together and took in shaky breaths.

"Wow,” you sighed out a smile.

He whispered the awestruck wonder back, and drew you right back in.

Parting after several rolling kisses later, you saw him clearer, sporting that Totoro smile at your blissful face. 

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," Aizawa spoke into your ear, still holding you close, but mindful of the tender parts you winced at.

Careful of the taxed weakness in his elbow, you carefully massaged up his arm gently, “Sorry I had to piss you off to get it~”

He chuckled breathlessly, feeling soft enough to nuzzle your cheek. You laughed at the roughness of his scruff on yours. It’s so comfortable with him like this. felt up his chest slowly while you had the chance. He took a deep breath at the sensation. 

"Guess this means you’re putting in your name as ‘that someone’? Do this together then?" You gestured with your shoulder between you, working out the words, “I mean, I should hope so– you just kissed the daylights out of me."

Aizawa brushed some hair away you'd nervously let forward. He seemed cool as ever, but spoke gently with you. 

"I wasn't so sure someone like me could feel this way about someone like you. So yes. I'd like to see where this could go,” Aizawa centered back to meet you with level calm. “I think.. what we have to start with, works. Don't you?"

You smiled sweetly and nodded with confidence. How things will look for you from this point on will simply build on the foundation you have. That all can be learned. Finessed. You braved a smile and assured him, despite the nagging fear you felt you caused;

"I won’t let you down, ‘Zawa."

His eyes almost rolled shut into a breathy chuckle.

"You know, I adore you. So damn much." He captured your lips again in a couple long kisses. You hummed in between them, drowned out by his own possessive trills back as they echoed into your shared mouths.

You gave a breathy little giggle in happiness and trailed your fingers over the edge of his jaw, caressing the stubble of beard. 

“Guess I have added incentive to stick around then.”

“Oh, you are. And you’re going to have to face the music with the city task force come Monday.”

–Ah yes, this felt more normal. The king of rational thought swooping in to burst your bubble. But… you suppose you rely on this too. All part of the Eraserhead package deal.

You’ll take it; along with your consequences.

“Ugh shit.”

“Told you so.”

Planning out your next steps in Aizawa’s homeroom, as a team, went well for the remainder of your time propped up at his desk… until you got distracted again. This new dynamic between you will be sure to prove tempting, you fear, as inevitably your reputation for being a horrific flirt started getting the best of you when Aizawa stuck his hair up to get back to work.

Unfair, how good he looks when he’s angry. Even worse when he looks back at you, in love.

[wileys-russo]

Idk why but this feels boyfriend: you play football and she comes to all your games. I know this is very nonspecific 😅

oh this is very boyfriend lessi coded dw nonnie i got you

number one fan II a.russo i normally wouldn't add a picture with a blurb but this gif just fits so perfectly

"your number one fans here." you felt your team mate nudge you with a knowing smile as you took a drink at half time, nodding up into the stands at your girlfriend. she was sat toward the back of the seats, long blonde hair hidden beneath her hood and kitted out in a matching black tracksuit, arms folded over her chest. she was manspreading which you made a mental note to tease her about later, her mum forever nagging her to 'sit like a lady'.

spotting you looking up at her she sent you a wink and a small wave, settling back into her seat. "she is so fit, why is she with you again?" your best friend teased as she slung an arm over your shoulder, you shoving her off with a roll of your eyes as the referee blew the whistle for play to resume.

unlike your professionally contracted, nationally treasured superstar girlfriend you had never played at anything above a grass roots level. you enjoyed football and would look forward to the matches each weekend, playing with your friends at your local club. but alessia, alessia loved football and would make sure she never missed a single match you played, even if it meant making up a half assed excuse to leave her own training early to just make the last fifteen minutes.

but that didn't mean you weren't competative as a team, and with the season starting to come to a close you needed to push to win each match you could, so being down by two with one half left to play was not ideal.

feeling the older girls piercing blue eyes follow your every move only spurred you on, and with a lucky break you shot through the defensive live and made a cross to your team mate who was calling out your name.

all it took was two touches and the ball was sent screaming into the back of the net, the crowd cheering loudly as alessia stayed seated but clapped along with a proud smile, giving you a thumbs up as you looked toward her.

"go on girls, press in!" the blonde striker called out encouragingly as you all reset for the final twenty minutes, huddled together for a corner. jostling from side to side you awaited the thud of your captains boot against the ball which was unfortunately quickly averted by the opposition and sent back down their end.

you were not known much for your technical skills, but whatever you lacked in those you easily made up in speed, and you were about to use that to your advantage.

darting around their final defender you made a break for the goal, hearing alessia shout out encouragement above the yells of the crowd, though a split second break in your concentration was all it took for the centre back to catch you.

the girl slid in for the ball but feeling her behind you you quickly flicked it back to a team mate, and instead the defender took out your legs sending you tumbling to the ground, head thumping against the pitch.

the crowd erupted into boo's and calls for a card, no one louder than your girlfriend who was now stood on her feet, cupping her hands over her mouth and screaming for the referee to wake up and open her eyes.

you lost sight of her as your team mates crowded around you, going through the standard concussion tests as you pushed them away assuring you were fine, your best friend grabbing your hands and helping you to your feet.

you gave a thumbs up to alessia who looked down at you with concern, eyes flickering between you and slit into a filthy glare to the defender who took you out as you shook your head toward your manager who dismissed the medic, trusting your judgement.

it didn't earn her a card but the mistackle did result in a foul and a penalty kick, which much to your protests you were shoved forward to take, bouncing nervously from one foot to the other as you stood in position, the referee speaking now with the keeper.

glancing up at your girlfriend she nodded reassuringly and mouthed 'remember what we practiced', crossing her arms over her chest as she rocked apprehensively on her heels, choosing to remain stood as most of the other spectators sat back down.

you took a deep breath and a few steps back, readying yourself as the whistle sounded. remembering what alessia had taught you, you made a point of sending the keeper a mean glare, the girl shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, trying to anticipate the kick.

not waiting another second you flew in, laces connecting with the ball as it sailed perfectly into the top right hand bin, your team mates surrounding you as the whistle for full time blew and a shit eating grin spread across your face.

it wasn't the winning goal but it was an equaliser, meaning you'd gained a point and avoided a loss at the very least.

cheering loudly and pumping her fist in the air you grinned up at the older girl who fixed her hood, it having fallen off her head at her celebrations.

you were pulled into the post game huddle with your team and after exchanging hugs and words of affirmations with your team mates you all broke away to collect your things.

"do you still need a lift?" your friend asked as you exited the change room, you instantly spotting alessia leant against the barriers waiting for you. "why would she slum it with us when she's got the mercedes waiting to take her home?" your best friend jumped on you from behind sending you stumbling as you caught your footing, shrugging her off and kicking playfully at her as you waved them off, wandering toward your girlfriend.

"hi." you grinned as you reached her, dropping your kit bag to the ground as the taller girl opened her arms, wrapping you tightly in a hug. "hi gorgeous." she rasped, hands gently rubbing your back as her chin rested on the top of your head.

"scored a worldie." you pulled away and smiled up at her as she chuckled. "we'll work on your shooting technique for next time so you score before theres a penalty." the older girl smirked and you smacked at her chest, whining in protest as she was quick to pick up your kit bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she always insisted on doing.

"shut up." the taller girl mumbled, stealing a kiss as you grabbed her hand, the two of you making your way to the car park as she eagerly asked questions about the half she'd missed, apologizing for being late as training had run over time in preparation for their match tomorrow.

you assured her it was fine as she unlocked her car, tossing your bag into the back alongside her own kit. you were quick to grab her training hoodie out of the boot, slipping it over your head and breathing in the familiar scent.

"i need that for tomorrow cheeky." alessia shook her head with a knowing smile, forever finding items of her clothing hidden in drawers and shelves of your room when they went missing.

"didn't I tell you you need to dry your hair after training?" you sighed with a shake of your head as you tugged off her hood and noticed the girls wet mop of blonde hair.

"haven't you learnt i don't listen to anything you tell me to do?" alessia smirked, arms circling your smaller frame as she pressed your body against the passenger door, dipping her head to connect your lips in a proper kiss.

"i missed you." she mumbled against them, hands slipping down to grip at your hips as she pushed you harder against her car, deepening the kiss at the slight hitch of your breath, taking the moment of surprise to slip her tongue in your mouth.

you withheld the urge to moan as her slender fingers toyed with the waist band of your shorts, biting down on your bottom lip. but you both jumped away from one another at the abrupt honk of a horn, your team mates driving past and calling their teasings out from the window as your cheeks flushed bright red and alessia simply waved at them with a smile.

"tomato." alessia teased, pressing a kiss to your bright red cheek and leaning in to open your door for you. "ah! boots." alessia tutted and ordered firmly as she slipped into the drivers seat, you rolled your eyes but obeyed none the less, slipping off your shoes and banging them on the ground a few times and placing them carefully on the floor behind you.

"don't roll your eyes at me, it's not cute." alessia warned, stealing a kiss and starting her car, your stomach fluttering as she pulled out of the fields and held her ring clad hand out expectantly over the middle console as you intertwined your fingers.

the drive back to her flat was filled with a comfortable silence, and before you knew it she had parked in the driveway next to ellas car. she was quick to dart out of the car, sprinting around to open your door for you before grabbing both of your kits out of her boot as you took off your socks and shin pads.

"don't even try it." the blonde smirked as you placed your boots, socks and pads inside and tried to take yours back, insisting you could carry it for yourself.

you huffed and followed her inside as she simply walked off with both bags, ignoring you. hearing the shower run to indicate ella was busy the two of you went right up to alessia's room, you declining wanting her to grab you anything from the kitchen.

"where's your necklace?" the older girl asked with a frown, turning to glance at you as you collapsed onto her king size bed. "in my bag, because you know you can't wear jewelry when you play football." you quipped back sarcastically, the small golden A necklace a gift from the taller girl for your anniversary.

the girl was nothing short of obsessed with you, and incredibly possessive alessia went mental anytime you took it off. which you often used to your advantage to wind her up when you were in a mood with her, pretending to have misplaced it as you watched her go crazy, the firm reminder you were hers no longer present.

"well then maybe i'll have to give you something else to show you're a happily taken woman." alessias large hands came to rest on your knees as she spread your legs and stood between them, smirking down at you as your stomach flipped.

"don't know how my parents would feel about a tattoo, but i'll be sure to tell them it was your idea." you teased, shuffling back further on her bed as the striker slowly climbed on top of you, your heart racing as her legs straddled your hips, careful not to completely sit on your smaller frame.

"not quite what i had in mind, but your parents do love me. i'm sure i could convince them." the blonde leant in with a cocky smile and spoke quietly, lips just hovering about your own mouth as you tried to lean up for a kiss but she backed away with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes.

"now what did i say about rolling your eyes at me?" alessia challenged, a large hand slipping up the inside of your jumper and coming to rest on your stomach, nails scratching teasingly at your skin, the older girl on top of you feeling your muscles clench beneath her touch.

"haven't you learnt i don't listen to anything you tell me to do?" you mocked her earlier words with a sly smile.

without another word exchanged alessia tucked her head into your neck, your eyes rolling back and a moan leaving your lips as she sank her teeth into the pulse point just below your ear, your hips bucking up as she sucked harshly at the skin, her hand on your stomach only pressing your body deeper into the bed in response.

"be quiet." alessia warned quietly in your ear before resuming her attack on your neck, her hand inching slowly down your stomach towards the waistband of your shorts.

though not wanting to completely give into her dominance you shoved at her chest, pushing her off of you and now moving to straddle her lap as the older girl looked to you in surprise before grinning, tugging you back down to connect your mouth with hers.

gently grabbing at your hips she maneuvered your body so you were straddling one of her legs, a moan leaving her own mouth as you gently ground down against her and kissed at her neck, knowing exactly what you needed to do to turn to normally dominant girl into putty in your hands.

though no sooner had your lips moved to kiss along her jawline did her door burst open, ella flying in and landing on top of the both of you, breaking you apart. "tooney get out!" alessia fumed, sitting up and glaring at the younger girl who pulled you into a hug, grinning at the obvious interruption she'd created.

"nah youse two can makeout later you do it all the time, you promised me a rematch round!" ella reminded as alessia groaned in annoyance, dragging her hands down her face as you chuckled, earning yourself a mean glare from the older girl.

ignoring the obvious frustration from her best friend ella busied herself switching on the tv and setting up fifa, you moving to sit inbetween alessias outstretched legs as she leant against the headboard, propping a pillow behind her back.

arms wrapping securely around you and pulling your back into her front, she accepted the controller from ella and began to select her team, you shuffled around to get comfortable, knowing both of them well enough to know this would likely go on for a few hours and there wasn't a chance your possessively needy girlfriend would allow you to sit anywhere than on her lap or do anything bar watch her play.

"i vote the winner gets a kiss, what do you reckon?" ella grinned, poking at you as alessia shot her a glare, smacking her hands away and moving her knees up, effectively blocking your body away from the girl sat beside you whose grin only widened at how easy it was the wind the blonde up.

with a chuckle you leant back and began to whisper in her ear all the things you'd give her and let her do if she won, her once grumpy frown shifting to her usual cocky smirk as you settled back into her chest, the whistle blowing for kick off as the sounds of button smashing and swearing filled the room, your girlfriend sure to press a kiss to your cheek or forehead every now and then.

your number one fan.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {1}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: You ease yourself into Max's life for a job but find it harder to leave than planned. Warnings: criminal activities WC: 2.6k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two

Formula one wasn’t just an expensive sport to race in but it was first and foremost a lucrative business. With hundreds of millions of dollars being invested each year it was no surprise that your services were sought. 

The hooded figure slid a file across the table, the crumbs and sticky residue of beer catching on the cover. “This is the target,” he whispered over the noise of the drunkards left in the bar at this late hour. “Everything we have on him is in there, use it to get close and get into their factory.”

“Why waste time with a relationship?” you questioned as you opened the file and saw the headshot of your target. Not someone you would call classically handsome but there was an appeal to him nonetheless. “Why don’t I just apply for an entry level job and this will be done in a week?”

“For my employer, this isn’t just about their technology, they want his spirit broken too.” He jabbed an angry finger at the portrait.

“Ah,” you chuckled as you closed the file and slipped it into your handbag before rising from the dark booth, “psychological warfare, that I can understand.”

“How do we reach you again?” the stranger asked as he made to follow but you held your hand out for him to stop.

“You don’t, our contact ends here. You know my fee, and you will know when the job is complete.”

“How?”

You rolled your eyes at the stupid the question. “Front page headline, of course.”

There was no denying Monaco was beautiful, but you missed your high rise apartment in New York. The birds eye view of Central Park had become home and it was where you spent most of your time. Corporate espionage was always in demand on Wall Street so it was convenient to live close by despite owning properties all over the world. 

You had spent a week researching your target, reading every article and watching every interview. You knew his mannerisms and his values, what features his ex-girlfriends all shared and why they broke up. You knew his entire history, all so you could manipulate his future. 

Once you had learned everything there was to know about him you had tracked him down to Monaco where he was spending a large portion of the winter season off. That was where the real work began.

Any wig was irritating, no matter how expensive it was, and this was no different as you suppressed the urge to touch the dried glue along the hairline. Up ahead, the target kept pausing on his walk to sign a few autographs and let children have a photo taken with him. 

Unbeknownst to him, all the posters and adverts along the street had been subtly changed so the models held small semblances to you. He wouldn’t actively notice them, but his subconscious would. Over the next week, his brain would recognise your features selling products he was familiar with and trusted, something you were going to use to your advantage when you finally decided to cross paths with him. 

As midnight passed you took a little stroll through the streets lined with mansions and pulled out a tin of cat food. The crinkling of the foil tearing open broke the relatively quiet night in the exclusive community and a few curious cats appeared through the perfectly trimmed hedges. You softly called two Bengals closer, nudging the others aside, before giving them a scratch behind their ears as you put the tin on the ground and earned their trust too. 

“I have a little friend for you,” you whispered as they finished the food and rubbed against your leg, purring happily. You reached into the pouch of your oversized hoodie and carefully woke the kitten you had adopted. He released a small mew at being disturbed but when he noticed the company around him he started to nuzzle around them. “That’s it, get nice and acquainted.”

The lady at the animal shelter had promised that the little guy had come from a big litter and was very friendly around other cats so you were glad she was right as you picked up the rubbish and tossed it in a nearby bin. Giving the trio one last scratch, you lingered on the tabby with a whisper, “I’ll see you soon, Achilles.”

You left the neighbourhood after slotting a missing cat poster with your phone number into the mailboxes along the street and as the three animals disappeared into the hedge together you hoped it wouldn’t be too long before your phone rang. “Bye Sassy, bye Jimmy.”

You were going out of your mind as you lounged around the house waiting. You checked your phone a handful of times per minute, even testing it was working with your burner phone once an hour. It was only as the sun began to set on the second day that the ringtone sang out over the news channel relaying the latest stock market figures. 

You took a deep breath, falling into the character of your alias as you saw the unknown number on the caller ID. “Hello?” You had to hide your grin as you perfected the balance of worry and hope in your voice.

“Uh, hi, is this Madilyn?” a man asked, the Dutch accent one you were familiar with after all the videos you had watched of him. “Your kitten is missing?”

“That’s me, please tell me you have some good news,” you begged softly, pitifully. 

He laughed quietly and you could hear purring close to the phone. “I think he found his way into my home somehow. He is very friendly.”

“I’m so sorry,” you grabbed your keys and helmet off the kitchen side, slamming the door loudly as you left. “We just moved here and I must have left a window open. Where are you so I can come and pick him up?”

He gave you his address and you rushed to thank him before ending the call and throwing your leg over the motorbike you had recently brought, all added to the bill of your latest employer. The roar of the engine drew the attention of the pedestrians out for an evening walk as you raced through the narrow streets and you arrived in his neighbourhood in under a minute.

The wrought iron gate was closed when you pulled up but the front curtain inside the mansion swayed as a dark figure peeked out before it started to swing open. 

By the time you pulled your helmet off and hung it on the handlebars he had already opened the door and you skipped up the steps excited by the sight of Achilles tucked in the crook of his arm. Lights from inside the home spilled out onto the front porch as Jimmy and Sassy padded their way out, brushing up against your shins.

“He looks so cosy,” you said sheepishly as you went to reach for the sleeping Achilles only to pause and pull back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” 

“Max.” He offered his hand instead and you shook it weakly before crouching down to pet his cats. “They like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you said with a smile as you looked up at him and found him staring back intently. “Do I have helmet hair?”

You rushed to your feet, brushing down the strands that might have been messed up and windblown but he shook his head with a small smile. “You look familiar, have we met?”

You stepped closer with a small shake of your head and ran your fingers through Achilles fur, your arm brushing against Max innocently. His eyes followed your touch and you could see him taking the bait like a starving fish, not knowing how close he was to the hook.

“I would definitely remember meeting you,” you said as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away only for them to land on your motorbike. “Is that a Softail?”

“He has a good eye,” you praised as he recognised the same model Harley Davidson as the one he owned. “Do you ride?”

“Not as much as I would like. Unfortunately my one is back home in the Netherlands.”

“I owe you for finding Achilles.” You pulled the key from your leather jacket and dangled it in front of him with a grin, the silver keyring twinkling and catching his attention. He eyed up the figurine of the Trojian Horse, an inside joke you liked to use when on mission because the meaning always went over their heads. “Wanna take her for a spin?”

His hesitancy lasted only a split second since the conditioning of trust that had been instilled subconsciously all week quickly told him there was nothing to worry about. 

He looked down at his casual shirt and shorts he wore, clothes definitely not suitable for riding a motorcycle, before stepping back inside. “Would you like to come in?”

Max didn’t know the mistake he just made or the real reason you smiled the way you did as you stepped over the threshold, your body brushing close to his.

He was already gone: hook, line and sinker, he was yours.

Four Months Later The coffee pot was almost empty and your eyes were bleary as you sat on the sofa watching the live feed on your laptop for the fourth straight hour. The video footage was being recorded as it played and you already had sent a thumb drive full of similar files with the parts and manufacturing plans you had stolen on your last visit with Max to the Red Bull factory in England. This next one should be ready to send in the morning.

It hadn’t been difficult to organise a ‘work’ trip to London during the time Max was going to test some new features they were working on and he practically begged you to visit him since it wasn’t far to Milton Keynes where they were based. You wanted to hate him for making it too easy, for being too trusting and too kind. 

You wanted to hate him for making you feel guilty.

You lived for this job, playing mastermind and dancing the moral lines, and you were very good at it. The world was your stage while you got to write the play, direct the show and be whatever character you wanted to be. But more often than not you found yourself forgetting to be ‘Madilyn’ when you were with Max and realised at some point you were able to be yourself. 

It was a problem, and one you didn’t know how to solve.

That was a lie. You could take the thumb drive down to the post shop and send it before disappearing into the night. Job done, problem solved.

But that would mean never seeing Max again and the truth was you weren’t ready for that.

Achilles padded into the living room and jumped onto your lap, purring as he nudged your hand for a pat. “Don’t get too comfortable, this is just a temporary arrangement,” you said as you scratched his neck. “You wouldn’t like New York anyway. The air smells, the people are rude and there’s no Sassy or Jimmy to play with.”

You were going to miss Monaco when it came time to leave. Everyone had been so friendly and welcoming to this stranger, if only they knew the havoc you had come to wreak on their city.

Your doorbell suddenly rang and you swiped your phone off the coffee table to open the app and saw Max on your front step. You had specifically told him that you were feeling sick so he didn’t come around. He had a race this week and shouldn’t have been taking the risk of going near anyone sick but there he was, a bag of takeaways in his hands.

You cursed to yourself as you closed your laptop and went to open the door just a crack. “Max? What are you doing here?” you asked with a rasping voice. 

He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, aiming to kiss you but you turned your head away so his lips landed on your cheek. 

“I’m sick, you shouldn’t be here. You could catch it too.”

“I don’t care.” He placed the bag on the hall table so his hands were free to cup your face, holding you still as he greeted you with a proper kiss. It was impossible to resist him and your lips parted as you grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer.

He was far too responsible as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt, though he didn’t seem too pleased about stopping you from taking things further. “Eat first,” he ordered, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other grabbing the food. 

Max’s season had been off to a terrible start with a third place podium the best he had been able to achieve behind the Ferrari’s who had come back strongly from last year's poor result. The journalists called it a miracle - that the Italian team were able to produce a car to rival Red Bull’s - but really it wasn’t quite that unexplainable. They had inside information thanks to you. 

Despite the stress in his life and the pressure he was feeling from his father to push harder, he still found time for you and a part of you resented him for that, for making it harder to complete the job.

Your laptop on the coffee table kept drawing your attention as you sat down with the chicken noodle soup Max had brought. It was like a ticking time bomb that you couldn’t ignore and everytime Max’s hand passed over it to get a napkin or the remote you felt your heartbeat in your throat. If he opened the lid he would see something you couldn’t explain away so you needed to get him away from it for your own sanity.

“I’m really tired, babe,” you lied as you faked a yawn and Max checked his watch with a frown when he saw how early it was. 

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” he suggested as he pressed his hand to your forehead and mistook the clammy heat as a fever, but it was purely from the stress you were under watching him reach over your laptop yet again for his can of Red Bull.

“A bit of rest is all I need. You don’t need to worry about me, you should be worrying about your race.” You shifted on the couch to face him and saw how relaxed he was with his arm draped across the back of your cushion and Achilles curled up on his lap. “How are you planning on beating Ferrari?”

He shrugged and focused on scratching the tabby between the shoulder blades. “I’ll get the most I can out of the car and it will either be enough to win or it won’t. I can only try my best and avoid making mistakes.”

You curled into his side, hiding your guilty face in his neck as his arm closed around you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered your confession.

“Why?” he laughed softly, “it’s not your fault.”

If only he knew. 

But he could never know.

Click here for part two.

[peachsayshi]

Pre the “love you” first HCs, can you do a flirting hc of how the jjk boys would woo their crush before falling in love? ♥️

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ how did they woo you before falling in love? (feat. gojo, geto, nanami)

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags:  fluff; only soft things

notes: anon, I am so excited to write this request for you! if anyone wants to read the previous hc's you can find them here & here. I'm just writing this out for the characters that I already wore about.

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Gojo

In the beginning, courting you was simple. Satoru would go all out by treating you to fancy dinner dates. He constantly surprised you with little gifts of flowers, chocolates, and jewelry. Throwing money as a way to earn your affection was easy, and he didn't have to think about making any effort when his feelings came wrapped up in a pretty bow.

In between the many text messages and phone calls, Satoru would spend any free moment he had with you, but he could tell that you were responding to his gestures with a forced smile. You've only been dating for a short while but you were suddenly unimpressed by everything he had to offer. The spark in your eyes started to fizzle and he knew that you might be reconsidering this relationship altogether.

He understands that he isn't the easiest man to love - he can't exactly commit himself to you, and he's usually inaccessible because of his duties as a sorcerer. There's nothing about Gojo's world that accommodates another person, but he moved mountains to make it happen.

"How about we stay in tonight?" he asked one evening, his arms circling your waist and his blue eyes taking in your shocked expression reflecting from the mirror.

"But...I'm already dressed..." you replied with confusion, looking at your outfit that you thoughtfully put together with disappointment.

"Trust me, I have a better idea..."

You were sitting on a stool, resting your elbows on the kitchen island while watching with intrigue as your lover, who is one of the wealthiest men in the country, struggle to cook a decent meal for you.

The apron barely fit Satoru's long torso, and his clothes were stained with oil and sauce. He spent a majority of the time complaining about why things weren't working correctly but you were smiling throughout the whole experience. By the end, your cheeks were killing you from how much you were laughing. Satoru made it across the finish line with his hair tousled and his cheeks red. The counters were a complete mess, and you even bit back a teasing comment about how terrible his plating looked.

Despite the chaos that he ensued, the food tasted absolutely delicious. You swallowed every bite as you stared at him with nothing but tender eyes. The vibrant smile plastered across his face wasn't his smug satisfaction for accomplishing this task but relief that the fading spark as blooming into a warm flame.

He wasn't going to lose you.

He made gentle love to you that night, listening to every breath and swallowing your pretty moans. He used the moment as opportunity to reconnect with your body, and in many ways, tether himself back to your heart.

Satoru Gojo earned your love. He fought hard to keep it by showing you that he was worth all the trouble.

Geto

Suguru's dates were a simple combination of getting together and talking. These intimate conversations strengthened your relationship, until there was nothing that you couldn't discuss. Suguru cracked open his skull, and you were met with a beautiful mind full of complex thoughts and emotions. He fascinated you in every way possible and wasn't afraid to express his real feelings.

He constantly reassured you that his heart was yours.

Even though you knew Suguru from the inside out at this point, there was still a level of mystery that surrounded him which kept things interesting. The man was the most spontaneous person you knew and that made him unpredictable. You learned over time that he never liked making solid plans, and approached dating you on what he was feeling rather than seeing it as something obligatory.

Your first trip together was planned out one afternoon in your bedroom. Suguru was just scrolling through his phone when he saw a small air bnb in the countryside that he liked. You kept every token from that weekend trip together. You visited a hot spring, hiked through beautiful nature pathways, and found the tiniest little restaurants that served the most delicious meals.

Your last night together was spent with the two of you snuggling in one another's arms while making love in between. He was keeping you close to his chest, his delicate fingers trailing your spine as he stared out the window watching a strip of warm color slice through the twilight sky.

"I don't want to leave," he whispered - his voice a little hoarse and exhausted from the long night.

You nuzzled into him, your leg tightening over his thigh as your hand finds his and you interlace your fingers.

"Maybe...maybe, we can stay one more night..." you sigh, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand lovingly.

You don't see the tick on his lip or the cheeky smile that follows soon after. He kisses the top of your head as he relaxes into the mattress.

"We've both got work tomorrow..."

"True, but I'm sure we can think of something..."

His chest vibrates when he chuckles and he releases a long exhale as he shifts his position. He turns to his side, curling his strong arm over your body and hugs you close to his torso. He's quite aware of how happy he is as he watches you fall asleep in his arms, and all he can think about is how he would gladly go to bed with you beside him every single night.

Suguru's courtship felt like an intimate waltz; from the moment he held your gaze, he lured you into a rhythmic dance that only ended on one note. The longer you swayed to the tune of his music, the more you realized that falling in love with a man like him was inevitable.

Nanami

Nanami's courtship of you reminded you an endangered love - one that was dwindling in such a fast paced culture. He approached dating you with a level of patience and in doing so, he wooed you in a way that left butterflies in your stomach and tingles up your spine.

Nanami wasn't shy about expressing his interest towards you and he was a gentleman in how he handled romancing you. He preferred taking you out on intimate dates - like cozy dinners, visits to museums or art galleries, and walks to the park. He had a keen interest in getting to know y ou, and was conscious about his behavior for the sake of your comfort.

Over time, you watched his personality unravel before your eyes. He had a way of making you laugh with his witty humor, and you soon learned that he was far more laid back than what he presented himself to be. His intelligence made for really interesting conversations, and he always spoke to you with the utmost respect. He had a way of making you feel protected and his restraint worked out in his favor because you felt safe enough to gamble your heart with him.

Then there was the other side to Nanami, the part of him that would appear on occasion with every teasing touch and flirtatious comment that left your cheeks scorching with heat. His eyes would darken with lust when he transitioned from the gentleman to charmer. Nanami's strong attention to detail had him reading your body language in a way that no man ever could. He took his time to figure out how to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you and make love to you.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked him the morning after you slept together for the first time.

He shifted his gaze away from his laptop and looked at you leaning against the wall. You were dressed in his white t-shirt, wearing nothing underneath except your underwear. Your fingers were clenched around the mug of tea that he gave you, and he quirked his brow at your sudden nervous demeanor.

"Anything you want."

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next. "It might be a stupid question..."

At this point your lover stood up from his seat. He walked over to you, placing both hands on your waist and giving you a light squeeze. He brought his lips down to your cheek where he planted a soft kiss, before casually asking, "what's on your mind?"

He finds it adorable when you question if this means that you're both committed to one another and Nanami doesn't even hide his gut wrenching smile when he gives you a sincere confirmation.

"I don't know about you," he teases, "but there has been no one else for me since we met."

"There has been no one else for me either!" you insist, "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page before I go around and start calling you my boyfriend..."

"Boyfriend, huh?"

His tone is playful, but it's the way his voice deepens with that question that made your heart skip a beat.

"I mean, what else am I supposed to call you?"

His expression softens, and he's thankful that you can't see the thoughts running through his mind at that very moment.

"You can call me whatever you want, my love..." he replied with a kiss to your temple, knowing full well that he was working his way towards achieving a prospective title that would suit him better considering he was already picturing you as his wife.

[peaches2217]

Here’s a headcanon. Whats Mario’s favorite thing about Peach (both personality-wise and… physical 🤭)

Bless you Vee 🥹

Personality-wise, his favorite thing about her is her faith in people and her unflinching ability to trust. Mario’s a very kind person who believes that most people are inherently good, or at least contain the ability to be good; however, he’s also from Brooklyn and has a brother who’s been hurt one too many times, so while he’s open to giving everyone a chance, actually coming to trust someone is more difficult for him. He’s always happy to help or hang out! But you have to earn anything beyond that.

For Peach, however, it’s much simpler: you have to earn her loss of trust. She’s cautious, make no mistake, you have to be when you’re the leader of a nation. But she can look at someone, speak to them for a moment, and decide right away whether she trusts them or not, and her intuition is never wrong. That sort of insight and faith is something Mario admires deeply… not least of all because she extended that trust to him and his brother when they first met.

She had every right to be wary of two dazed, lost, and extremely confused humans stumbling into her kingdom, yet when they were brought before her, instead of throwing them out or placing them under supervision/observation, she heard them out and gave them food and shelter. Mario can’t say with any level of certainty that he would have done the same in her shoes. Some call her reckless extension of trust naïve. He calls it brave and humbling.

Physically, I think he’s so overwhelmed by her everything that there’s no one attribute he can single out as his favorite. Her eyes, bright and soft and full of cheer; her lips, plump and pink; her hair, long and thick enough to frame her body yet fine enough to sway in the breeze; and that’s just what’s on her head. Don’t even get him started on the neck down. Every last part of her is wonderful, both in their own merits and because they make up the whole entity that is Princess Peach, his best friend, the love of his life, and the most beautiful woman in existence.

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

Okay, just had another thought, partially inspired by Connor Quest’s “Radio Star” fan song on YouTube.

What if, instead of being in Heaven or the Void, Alastor was in a psychiatric hospital in Hell for seven years?

Think about it. An unspecified amount of time before his disappearance, he had a huge fight with Vox, someone he did care about to some extent. In the aftermath of this fight, he would have spiraled. This wasn’t a Mimzy-level argument—no, this was a personal betrayal like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

And, if Alastor was left to his own thoughts long enough, I do think it would have gotten to the point where Husk—by all evidence, his closest thrall, along with Niffty—would call someone to take him in. We know Alastor has trichotillomania (he pulls his hair out in the finale), and who knows what other kinds of danger he’d pose to himself and others in this state of distress?

And so, he’s put in a psychiatric hospital.

Now, at this hospital, there’s a mandatory deal every patient must make. Their powers are to be restrained, to decrease any risk of harm to themselves or others. Makes sense, right? Some of the sinners there could do some real damage if left unchecked, and the hospital can’t take that risk.

After seven years of slowly getting even more mentally unstable in this hospital (it is, after all, a psychiatric hospital in Hell), Alastor finally manages to break out.

While he’s on the run, and pretending he’s not, he hears the Princess’s voice. He checks it out, and he discovers that she’s opening a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. It sounds exactly like what the hospital portrayed itself to be, so he doesn’t trust it. But if he’s under the Princess’s own roof, no one can get him, right? If he gets her on his side, no one can convince her that he should return to the hospital.

So he decides to offer his services to her. Under the guise of boredom, of course—can’t have her suspecting anything!

Charlie turns down his initial offer of a deal (which could have ensured that he was there to stay), but then she commands him to help out with the hotel for as long as he desires. Alastor doesn’t want to leave the political protection, and as long as he isn’t expected to better himself, he’s plunking his ass down here and never leaving.

He summons Husk and Niffty to the hotel to help out. Niffty, who’s never been the brightest bulb, doesn’t realize anything is wrong, but Husk knows damn well Alastor’s not supposed to be out yet. If anything, Alastor is even more of a danger to himself than before. He decides to keep his mouth shut about it (at least, until Lucifer and Mimzy show up…).

Time goes on. Husk notices him getting worse, but to the other residents, nothing is off about Alastor. To them, he’s always been like that. Niffty is starting to realize something is off, too. Alastor’s presence at the hotel is revealed to the public by Vox (DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT THEY’RE GOING TO FIND HIM) and he crushes Vox in “Stayed Gone”. He says he has plans cooking that will destroy the status quo, but not even Husk knows if that’s true or not.

Then, Alastor attends the Overlord meeting. When Alastor says he was taking a “well-earned sabbatical”, Zestial squints his eyes—because he knows that Alastor would never take a break from his beloved radio show unless forced. Zestial thinks it might have something to do with the angels or Lillith, but he can’t know for sure.

By the time Lucifer visits, Alastor is dangerously close to a full breakdown. He’s been playing at (relative) sanity for several months now, but he can’t keep the facade up forever. The stress of pretending has been getting to him, and he’s about to blow like a pressure cooker. And to make matters worse, he doesn’t know if Lucifer will realize he escaped from the hospital—if Lucifer himself wants to turn him in, Charlie’s protection won’t matter anymore. So, Alastor decides to take a more fatherly approach to this perceived threat, to make double sure that, even if Charlie found out about all this, she won’t turn him in anyway.

Mimzy shows up, and for the first time in months, Alastor relaxes. Here’s a friend that’ll understand! Here’s a friend that would never turn him in! He so happy to see her that he goes right in for a hug, and it’s the safest he’s felt since he escaped.

Husk is getting really, really worried now. He’s never seen Alastor this unstable before, and now that Mimzy is visiting too—she always brings trouble with her—his boss is going to snap soon, and it’s not going to be pretty. So, he confronts Alastor in the hallway about Mimzy, and he’s trying to lead up to where Alastor has been for the past seven years (and why he was there in the first place)—

Husk brings up the hospital’s leash, in that hallway, and Alastor goes apeshit. He’s never acted like that towards Husk before, ever. He was expecting an argument, maybe some yelling, not a fucking partial transformation. Alastor is even more unstable and out of his right mind than he looks, and that’s more terrifying than any threat he could ever have made in that moment.

Mimzy brought loan sharks to the hotel’s doorstep, and Alastor gets to let off steam. This, at least, hasn’t changed, and it reassures Husk that he can still be helped. Since Mimzy’s antics threatened the safety of the hotel, which by extension is Alastor’s safety, he needs her gone. She can’t be here. He wishes he could explain everything to her, but the others are right over there, watching, and they can’t know.

During Welcome to Heaven, Alastor is completely alone in the hotel. No one is making sure he’s okay. What do you think he was doing?

When Alastor hears that Charlie is in her room alone, he sees an opportunity. He goes up there, talks to her for a bit, and walks back down with a guaranteed future favor from her. Just in case they ever come to drag him back, and his posturing as her father figure doesn’t work, he now has assurance that Charlie will not let them take him. He just has to state that as her favor, and that’s that.

Rosie is suspicious of Alastor’s actions early in the day—specifically, when he turns down an opportune deal—but decides to not say anything in front of the Princess. If Alastor needs some softer treatment for a change, she’s not going to do it in front of an outsider, regardless of status.

Niffty has finally figured out that something is very wrong, and she acts accordingly. She knows Alastor trusts her more than Husk, so she starts spending more time with him. She declares him King Roach (nothing can kill him, nothing can keep him down, he can get through anything and find a way to thrive), places a crown of needles and cockroaches on his head, and starts laughing when he says he wishes he could understand her “twisted little mind”.

He laughs with her. This laugh is less genuine than she remembers, and much more uncomfortable. Sir must be so scared, she thinks. Niffty wishes she could do more to help, but that’s a mess no amount of scrubbing will fix, and she knows it.

Alastor tries to fight Adam. He’s only vaguely aware of what he’s doing and saying, at this point. Everything is a distant blur. His microphone snaps, something sets his entire body on fire, and he doesn’t know what’s happening.

He races to the last place he remembers feeling safe—the radio tower. He sings to himself about how it smells, what he feels, and reminds himself of what happened. This place reeks of death, there’s a chill in the air, and he barely escaped being killed by a hair.

There, in the radio tower, something snaps in him, and he has a panic attack.

Only after the hotel is rebuilt has he gathered himself enough to pretend again. “And we’re doing it with a smile,” Alastor says, and he means it.

He’s going to pretend, and he’s going to do it with a smile. It ensures that he’s the one in control, after all!

@eggcats your thoughts??? I know this isn’t radiostatic (or is it??) but I’d love to poke around in your head.

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 27

CW for the series | Masterlist

You chose to take Whumpee on an outing.

“Whumpee,” you start, “I’d like to take you outside. And not just to the backyard. I was thinking a walk around the neighborhood. Can I trust you not to…get me in trouble?” They acted trustworthy before, when they kept quiet with your friend over, so you believe you can trust them again. But this is a new level of freedom and opportunity, so you’d like to make sure.

They nod. “Yes,” they say, voice soft but not weak.

“And are you ready for that?”

“Yes,” they say again. “I would really like that.”

“Okay. Let’s go, shall we?”

You bring them outside—out the front this time, where there’s sidewalk leading away from the house and no tall fence enclosure to keep the two of you hidden.

Whumpee gawks a little. It’s understandable; they haven’t seen a space this open in a long time.

You let them pick a direction, and start walking down the block, side by side. Whumpee enjoys the fresh air, the sunlight, and the birds that occasionally fly by or sing from the trees. You enjoy seeing their renewed wonder at a world that you’ve taken for granted but that they’ve spent too long cooped up away from.

They don’t shout or make a break for it. It seems you’ve succeeded in building up a trust that goes both ways. You make it back home without any incidents.

Whumpee looks a little regretful that it’s over. You promise them they’ll have the chance to stroll the streets again before too long, which cheers them up and earns you one of those smiles you’ve learned to value from them.

What you don’t tell them is that you’re not sure whether that chance will be with you again.

It’s time to make a choice. Whumpee has come a long way. As far as you’re able to tell, they’ve gotten through the biggest parts of the recovery you decided to help them with when you first brought them out of the basement. Whumpee is about ready to go back to whatever life they had before. Still, you can't help but wonder if…maybe they didn't have much to go back to. No one came looking for them in all the time you’ve had them, after all.

Taglist:

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