#but I'm not quite sure why it's still so emphasized

[fluffyenergee]

(ordering like I'm in a drive thru) uhhhh can I get the uhhhh number five prompt...and uhhhh lemme get the...lemme get uh...can I get engineer absolutely destroying spy?

"Please, that is not even slightly original or funny for that matter."

Cigarette smoke curled around Spy and Engineer as the former observed one of the drawings on Engineer's cork board. Scout's drawing. Of Spy. And a frog with an exaggerated moustache. The two were kissing, the French flag drew proudly above them.

"You'd think at some point he'd get bored of drawing the same thing."

"Aw, c'mon," Engie spoke with barely contained amusement, if he was even trying, "let the boyo have a hobby. I like those, make workin' here easier. Ya gotta admit it's amusin'."

"Hardly."

"Not even gonna let out a small chuckle for me? Won't tell anyone, Texan's promise."

"I only "chuckle" when killing people by myself." Spy rolled his eyes. "This is real amusement, you should try it sometimes, laborer," As always, he emphasized the last word.

"Oh yeah? Well, ya should try laughin' more often. Could make others more willin' to interact with ya and maybe then you'd be less grouchy."

"In that case I definitely won't try it."

Spy knew Engineer would take that as a challenge. And he'd definitely enjoy the other try fruitlessly. Or so he thought.

“So, ya won't laugh no matter what?" Engineer circled to behind his companion. "Even if I do this…?” He put his hands on Spy's sides.

Spy barely flinched, but still enough for Engineer to feel it. To his credit, however, everything else about his body language remained intact.

"Engineer, take your dirty hands off of me," Spy scoffed. "Whatever it is you're planning it's a waste of time."

"Then it's good I have time to spare right now."

Spy gritted his cigarette when feeling a squeeze on his sides.

"Engineer-!"

"Nah."

Engie quickly took off both of his gloves and crawled one of his hands under Spy's clothes to wiggle at his tummy, while the gunslinger held onto Spy's hip, squeezing every now and then.

To Spy's absolute horror, this resulted in a snort escaping his lips.

"Aw, so ya can laugh!" Engie teased.

"T-That… wasn't a-a laugH!" Spy sputtered, his shaking hands moving to grab Engie's wrists. "Stop… it!" He was trying his best to keep his voice steady, really, he was, but it was impossible to feign lack of reaction in this situation.

"Guess that's true," Engineer agreed before his second hand also dived to tickle Spy's stomach, both of them accelerating now. "So maybe now?"

"Khh… ngh- AGH!" Spy was trembling like a leaf in the wind, the corners of his lips moving upwards but not quite there yet. "C-Cease that… now!" He felt laughter bubbling in his throat but managed to bite his lower lip just in time. Barely…

"Why? Ticklish? Didn't take ya for the type, good to know."

Spy wasn't entirely sure what the plan was, but even he had to admit thinking was hard in this situation, even if just to himself back in the back of mind that he would later deny. And then, when Engineer really started scratching at his stomach, causing his back to arch, he couldn't stop himself from cloaking.

"Oh? Well, that ain't gonna help." Engie chuckled in amusement as he now tickled seemingly nothing. "Gotcha trapped in my arms, spook." With that he decided that it was enough teasing. It was time to make Spy lose all his fancy schmancy flare.

With his hands still working under Spy's clothes he dragged the invisible mercenary to the chair, forced him to sit on it, and Engie himself? Straddled Spy's lap and tickled aggressively all over his tummy and sides.

Whoosh.

"AAAHAHAHAAH!" Spy returned to view with a vengeance.

"There ya are!" Engie cheered with exaggerated joy. "Well, would ya look at that. You can laugh just fine."

Now he just needed to make sure Spy had no chance of denying it. His hands scratched higher, now teasing his ribs, while he moved his face to Spy's neck, moved his balaclava up with his nose, and blew a raspberry.

Pffft!

"GAHAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA! E-ENGINEER!" Spy threw his head back while his mind scrambled for ideas to free himself and make sure absolutely no one found out about this. All he came up with however was to 1) hope it was a dream 2) push at Engineer with his hands. It didn't accomplish much.

Another raspberry.

"NAHAHAHA! I OHOHOHORDER YOU TO STOHOHOP!" Another snort when Engineer dug his fingers between Spy's ribs.

"Hmmm, let me think." Engineer hummed before blowing another raspberry. "Nah. You're laughin', that's good, told ya you could."

"MERDE-!" Spy hiccupped with laughter and threw his arm across his suspiciously wet eyes.

Engineer immediately took his chance and while the gunslinger remained taking care of those ticklish ribs his other hand moved to the outstretched armpit.

Spy positively screamed.

"KHAAAAA! BWAHAHAHA, N-NON!" His arm flew to his side but that only trapped Engie's hand under in his armpit which he eagerly utilized. Then, to Engineer's utter delight, Spy begged, "P-PLEHEHEHEASE, YOU PROHOHOHOVED YOUR POINT! STOHOHOHOP!"

"Oh, I'm never lettin' ya forget that." He smiled mischievously, his hands not stopping for even a second, his lips waiting close to Spy's neck.

"ENGINEER!"

"Yer awful cute like that, I can see you blushing even through that mask."

That was bad enough, but Spy could feel the blush spreading down his face. It was only a matter of time before it would be seen on his neck. Still, he was too busy writhing with laughter to fully comprehend that.

Even though Spy did admit that Engineer was right, that he could laugh, and indirectly to being ticklish, not that any admission was needed at this point, Engie didn't stop. Spy really was too cute like that.

Not a bad way of spending the afternoon, not bad at all.

-----------

You know, when I said I would write drabbles I meant that, as in 300 - 500 words or something like that, but so far all of those are coming out closer to 1000 words.

[chuluoyi]

✎ to my beloved

- gojo satoru x reader

bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, fluff, fluff—just gojo pampering you

note: my job has been so hard for me this week :') so yeah it's very self indulgent as i need a lil hurt/comfort and i think you should too~

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

This week... has been a total dumpster fire.

You were utterly exhausted, covered in grime and blood, a persisting headache made you almost black out, all while sitting in the hospital waiting room as survivor's guilt slowly consumed you.

Grueling paperwork, a new project, facing the higher-ups, being substituted to Kyoto for days, and then a sudden attack of a curse user on the loose.

In times of need, you were supposed to protect others— you are a jujutsu sorcerer.

And yet, what happened? Megumi suddenly bathed in his own blood. You barely managed to save him in time, and now you were waiting for the news that he would be okay.

Why couldn't it be you instead? You wanted to break down each time you replayed the scene that took Megumi out. It was so eerily similar to how Haibara was—

"Are you okay!?"

You whipped your head, surprised to find your husband pounding down the hall. Satoru looked unlike himself—he was disheveled, and when he saw you, he immediately dashed towards where you were.

"Satoru..." you voice came out in a croak, feeling the lump in your throat closing in. When he dropped to his knee, put both hands on the sides of your face, and then your body, feeling you over to check if you had any injuries—

You finally burst into tears.

"Sweets, hey..." Satoru immediately pulled you close, trying to soothe you. You were shaking in his arms and he tightened his arms around you. "What happened to you?"

"I-I was... w-with him..." you sobbed, burying your face in his shoulder. "S-Satoru... I-I'm sorry...! M-Megumi—"

Your husband immediately shushed you. "Shh... it's alright, yeah? He'll be okay—"

You were still inconsolable even as he held you in his embrace. He hadn't seen you like this... not ever since tragedies during your high school years ago. And he struggled to reconcile this sight of you with how you were back then.

"I-I s-should've stood in his way— t-that way, he won't be hit—" you hiccupped as you poured your heart out and clutched at his shirt. "I-It would be f-fine if it... was me—"

But all thoughts flew when he heard your words, and suddenly he felt so angry—

"What do you mean?" his voice was so low and sharp that it startled you. "How will it be fine if it was you?"

You stiffened, and Satoru gripped your shoulder, pulling away to look you right in the eyes.

"If something bad happened to you... how is it fine?" he emphasized with gritted teeth. "Where do you get that kind of bullshit from?"

Your lips were wobbling as you sniffled. "At least... i-it isn't him—"

"If you got hurt, how do you think it'll make me feel?" Satoru posed the burning question on you next, his cerulean eyes glinting with silent fury, and you almost recoiled.

"T-that's...!"

"I'll wreak havoc if anything ever happens to you." His tone was harsh and forceful. "So if you think you can just—"

"I'm tired!" you screamed then, and he was stunned, wide-eyed as he took in your outburst. "I-I'm just... I've had enough of this— this shit! I want to quit!"

You were openly weeping, and this time, Satoru felt his heart lurch. You looked so heartbroken and utterly inconsolable that his first instinct to protect you took over.

"Then quit." He rose and took a seat next to you, before cradling you closer and pressed your head against his chest. "Even if you quit, I'm still here. I can protect you well enough. I don't like you being a sorcerer anyway."

You were his beloved wife and he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be happy and smiling.

He let out a disgruntled grunt. "Did you know how I was when I heard from Ichiji that you were at the hospital? I thought I might go mad thinking something had happened to you."

You sobbed harder at his words.

"It's perfectly okay if you're tired," he affirmed, patting your back gently. "If you're fine with giving up everything, then I'm on board too. Whatever makes you happy, sweets. Just... don't think of anything that might hurt yourself. Don't think of anything that might make you leave me."

You didn't know you needed to hear it. Right at that moment, your heart swelled with warmth. All your feelings were validated, and even if you chose to let go of everything, Satoru would accept you as you are.

You felt safe, so incredibly and irrevocably secure.

"Whatever happened this time..." he breathed out, feeling the dampness in his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "It's not your fault. No one will blame you. I don't blame you, and Megumi won't too."

Your sniffles quieted down a bit at his words, and your throat still felt tight, clogged with tears.

"H-he... looked s-so much like Haibara... w-when—"

"Shush, he does not. Megumi will be okay. You will too, hmm?"

And just like that, you let go of everything and surrendered your entire being into his arms.

Clinging to him, you finally believed, in whatever shape or form it might take, you would be okay.

A week later, Megumi was discharged after being cleared by the hospital. His wounds were thankfully shallow, and you cried in relief when he woke up.

And after escorting him back, later that night, you laid on top your husband...

Your weight on him felt like a comforting reassurance as he gently patted your back. Satoru couldn't help but smile when he saw how peaceful you looked, like a baby about to fall asleep.

He couldn't resist and planted a firm kiss on the crown of your head.

"Mmm?" you looked up at him, eyes fluttering open, and he cracked a grin.

"What?"

"What?"

"Can't I kiss my own wife? When she's adorable as heck too."

"You..." your lips curved into a bashful, yet exasperated smile, poking his chest in the process.

"Heh."

You drew circles on his broad and sturdy chest, noting how his arms extended and feeling how your toenails only reached a little past his knees. "Your arms and legs are ridiculously long. You are like an oversized plushie."

Satoru snickered. "Well, isn't that good? You don't have to buy them anymore. I can be your personal talking plushie."

"Ew." You hit his chest playfully, and he pushed your bum forward until you were face-to-face with him. He smooched you on the lips, and you giggled afterward.

His eyes shone as he stared at you, breaking to a smile himself. "Finally smiling. Pretty."

"Satoru..." your eyes found his, and you marveled at how sparkling they were. Seeing him so close, even after being married to him for more than a year, made your heart skip a beat. "I..."

"Hmm?"

"I want to keep being jujutsu sorcerer..." You had thought about it ever since, and you still arrived at the same conclusion. "It's true if I give up on it, you'll still keep me safe and all, but..."

Your husband waited for you to continue, still smiling, blinking expectantly.

"...this is something I have to do. I know there will be more hard days ahead, but believe it or not, I... found purpose in doing this," you said, shifting your gaze away from him. "It makes me feel... I can be useful. Even if I'm not special like you, I can still contribute in my own small way..."

How you pressed up against him, the way you looked hesitant and yet convinced at the same time... Satoru thought you were the most precious thing there was.

"Then keep going. I'll still be here too." He hugged you tight then, surprising you. "Just let me know when you feel like you need a long leave, and I'll definitely give you the solution."

"Eh? How?"

"Easy... I can just put a baby in you~ They won't deny you maternity leave or put you in missions~"

"...Satoru, you're—" You shot him a look so unamused, before resigning with a sigh. "Never mind... alright, sure, whatever you say."

"Ooh! So does this mean you want to try now?!"

"—? No, not now yet—!"

"When? We have to try one of these days before some meddlesome aunties ask us when we will have kids!"

Being sillies like this made you so glad that you had him in your life, and that you married him. And if he felt the same way as you... then you really thanked the stars for it.

You huffed, yet wrapping your arms around him in return. "Satoru, you're a clown."

"Your personal clown, you mean. Right~"

[hellsslibrary]

Crazy idea but Omega Shuto Sendou and breeding kink. (Idk if you do heats but I would like to request that too.)

P.s. LUVVVVV your blue lock posts, especially that sae and skirt one❤️❤️❤️

Life is short so why the hell are you wasting it holding back when I'm here like this? (My husband's quotes as titles day 2)

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I'll be brutally honest, he's so 100% straight in my eyes... This was really hard to write, I was picturing him getting fucked by a woman lol. 🌻 I can't picture him with a man (unless it not works out with his actresses, which is probably the case).

!!Warnings: top!male!reader (can be woman tho, it was in my mind), bottom!shuto, A/B/O, heat cycle, mention of impregnation, cumming inside, Sendou in your shirt, 'whore' one time, round number two million three hundred and five thousand four hundred and twenty seven (Sendou is REALLY insatiable here), mention of scratches on your back/lower back/butt, praise in both directions, Sendou is a bit of a tsundere(?), the reader suffers as I do while writing this LMAO.

"Come on, don't sto-stop, co-come on," escaped his lips for the umpteenth time that evening, while he was lying on his side with his leg raised, and you continued your thrusts inside him.

What time do you fuck? Who knows. How many times have you cum inside? God only knows. How long will it last? So long that after death you will probably be stewing in all the cauldrons of Hell for this lustfulness.

No, seriously, how much longer will it take for this guy to be satisfied? He looks like he's not going to stop for another couple of hours. The way his glass eyes stared at the wall in mute, well, not quite, pleasure was even funny.

You push his raised thigh to the side, making the bed creak under his shifted weight, and he scowls at you, though moans escape his lips, as if in another second you will fuck his whole being out of him.

"You're so fucking hungry... And still so tight," you grumble almost displeased, throwing both of his legs over your shoulder, penetrating his hole, from which mixtures of his slick and your cum were dripping, causing him to arch his back with a trembling moan.

"You're so big inside... I nee-need to make sure that the fe-fertilization has taken pl-place, stupid," his hand falls on his face, covering his eyes, which only makes you exhale in defeat.

Your body bends closer, Sendou's body bends almost in half, although he doesn't seem against the idea, just lowering his hand from his face, revealing the tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Sensitive. Greedy. Whore."

You emphasize your every word with a thrust into him, making sure that you touch everything you need, not being surprised when he comes again, covering your shirt with his fluids again.

His hands grab onto your bare back as you nuzzle into his neck, starting to cover the white skin with hickeys until he can only whimper. His legs were shaking on your shoulders like an aspen leaf, his knees were pressed against his chest making his breathing even harder.

"It's so, fuck, good... the-there... Hi-hit it again... Hard-harder!" he mumbles unintelligibly because of the amount of saliva in his mouth, and you just smile against his neck, biting his collarbone, making him cry out, and pulling away.

"Whatever you say," you shrug, wishing you could just get him to pass out and continue after at least a couple of hours, considering how your hips are already hurting.

The bed immediately started hitting the wall when your hands lift his hips a little higher. And his head rises from the pillows in a loud, ragged moan, pulling another orgasm out of him.

You curse when he squeezes you as if in a vice, which makes you come too, filling him. And when you don't hear the reaction, you look up, and fuck, you just thank all living things when you see that he's asleep.

Your cock slips out of him, reflexively thrusting his cum back inside him, which makes him twitch a little and you cover him with a blanket, looking at the calendar... And then a whimper escapes your lips when you see that this is only the first day of estrus, and you just lean back on the bed, wiping the tears from his face.

[cvnt4him]

hii it's meee :3 another izu req

reader plays a prank on her friend izuku, it ultimately goes wrong and they somehow end up trapped inside a closed space. Together. Alone. Tight room. Tension. Heat. Mwah

ah, another ask from the great mind of @lovelykil

I would be more than happy to fulfill this for you<33🎗️

Stuck Inside..

...........................................

God you loved your friend group, how chaotic, dumb, and funny they were, they always made you and mina feel like queens those boys did.

Bakugou, kirishima, denki and sero, they knew how to have fun they sure did, playing pranks on people, having movie nights that only inner circle people are invited to, it was ultimate fun.

But they had an initiation, to officially be invited to the 'bakusquad' not the name you would've gone with but whatever, you had to successfully prank someone in the dekusquad for 5 days and not get caught, see when sero told you this at the lunch table, bakugou and denki smirking while kirishima and mina looked at each other with such worried looks, you were already down, who didn't love a good prank on their peers?

Mina sighed and looked at you with a scared look like she had something to tell you, she tried too, opening her mouth before shutting it at the sight of bakugou staring daggers into her. You wanted to know why they were being so secretive but you didn't want them to not trust you, so you simply kept your mouth shut and listened to sero go on about the tradition.

"so all I have to do is prank someone? Easy."

You say rolling your eyes and clapping your hands together.

"don't forget, you can't get caught, so do whatever it takes, even frame someone else, to get away." Sero emphasizes heavily to you.

"too easy. Now, who shall be my victim.~" you scoff, then rub your hands together scoping out your prey.

"deku."

You hear a slightly rasped, deep voice chime in.

"oh? How come?" You question the still smirking blonde as he glared at you with deep volcanic red eyes.

"do the prank.. or don't. You're the one who wants to be with us, and those are the rules, either do the prank or dip. Either or."

Bakugou barks at you with a shit eating grin, leaning back against the window as he puts his hands behind his head laying on them.

You look around the cafeteria to search for the green haired boy, spotting him smiling and laughing with his friend group. His emerald green eyes shining so bright in the sun, his pearly white smile blinding you, he really was such a bright star, you were just afraid this prank might burn him out, although you really wanted to be apart of their clique, were you really gonna prank an innocent angel who's never done anything wrong to you, just so you can have a designated seat at the 'cool kids' table?

You inhale through your nose and exhale heavily out through your mouth.

"fuck it, I'm in. Any specific prank in mind?"

Yes, yes you were.

Your answer caused bakugou to smile widely at you, the rest of the boys doing so as well as they all snicker and snort quietly, again besides mina and kirishima who just sighed and accepted what was to come there truly was nothing they could do.

"shit man.. that might just make him cry, are you sure?"

You question after hearing the prank they wanted you to do.

"hey, your call, if you don't wanna do this, don't. We aren't forcing you of course these are all your choices, just make sure this is what you really want to do and be prepared to go down if you get caught."

The way denki worded his sentence made you feel something deep inside, guilt? No.. regret? Can't be, you hadn't done anything yet. So what was it?

You sigh, really thinking this through, hell you really felt something inside but you couldn't quite put a finger on it..

"yeah.. oh.. okay, I'll do it."

You agree before shrugging off everything and bringing your gaze back into everyone at the table, smiles still plastered on their faces as you see katsuki and denki fist bump.

That should've been red flag number one.

A couple days later you set your prank into motion, on Monday you started out tame, stealing little things he would need, whether it be his pencil, notebook, doesn't matter, if you could get your hands on it you did.

When izuku realized his notebook was missing, he freaked out looking around with a nervous face, not wanting to interrupt anyone or bother them with his silly needs, you kinda felt bad, but you couldn't let emotions get In the way of becoming an official member of the squad.

You sucked it up and waited for the next day.

As Tuesday hit your pranks slowly progressed into getting worse, you had started leaving mean notes in his locker, his desk, even his bad, they'd say just random hurtful shit, whether that be about his freckles or his scars, things you thought he'd brush off. But boy were you wrong, seeing his spirit shatter as he read each and every note really left a bad taste in your mouth, hell you thought you saw years prickling at the edge of his eyes.

You again, brushed it off and waited for the next day.

Wednesday, you decided to kinda bully him, well not really, just nudge him into the locker when you walked by, or kicking the pit of his knees making them buckle, small things like that.

He felt so humiliated when he nearly tripped because of you, everyone staring at him as you glance at him with doe like eyes and bat your lashes at him.

"are you okay?"

He looked at you with glossy eyes and sniffed before nodding violently and rushing out of the class, you sighed and grabbed you bag leaving too as it was the end of the day, god you hated this but you were almost through, just 3 more days and your free.

As thursday rolled in you sucked up everything in you and, mentally prepared yourself for the next prank, you decided to go off script and do little tame things, take a bite from aoyamas book and leave more little notes in his room, it scared him by the looks of him, you hadn't felt too bad for this one as you and already progressed from the little notes in day 2 of your pranks, just one more day, one more prank and then your free, however this prank was the worst and all if the bakusquad was gonna be present.

You had to make sure you didn't let your emotions get in the way so you mentally prepared yourself the night before.

Finally Friday rolled around, most Fridays are spent training so with that being said you need to change into your hero suit in the locker rooms, deku is always the last one to shower after training and putting away his hero suit, out of respect for his friends, at least that's what the boys told you,

You sigh readying yourself to go in there and take his clothes as they would lock the door making sure he couldn't get out unless he broke the door, then eventually coming back for him in the morning if he hadn't.

God you were terrified, the prep the night before hadn't helped at all, you were literally shaking in your boots. You sighed as you see all of the boys leave the shower room as mina and you waited outside for them to give you a signal.

When bakugou gave you a nod, with a wide smirk on his face you sighed and ran in, the door opening and shutting loudly catching izukus attention whilst he showered, he brushed it off as one of the guys coming in and stated in the shower, you walked to the bench next to the showers making sure he couldn't see you, you grabbed his clothes and ran as fast as you could, once you made it out you held his clothes breathing heavily with a smile on your face as you struggle to catch your breath, your heart beating so fast from the adrenaline.

"I.. I got it!"

You saved it around showing the boys and mina, a smile never making it onto her face, her knowing what's coming next she shuts her eyes and mouths and apology, you look at her as sero, kirishima, and bakugou give you your praise, you were so confused and focused on what she meant by it you hadn't even seen denki slip behind you and quietly open the door, mina quickly pushed you inside and bakugou locked the door with the key, everyone laughing loudly as you fall into the floor with a grunt, kirishima had snatched dekus clothes from you before mina pushed you in, you bang on the door and hokd back tears.

"hey! Let.. let me out! Mina, how fucking could you!.."

All you could hear was laughs as they suddenly faded away, their shadows disappearing as well, as another comes from behind you, you'd seen the shadow on the door as you quickly turn around with a gaso as izuku held a towel around his waist trying to assure you were alright.

You look down before looking back up and looking away.

It was awkward, silent, and he looked so fucking hot, and he probably guessed you were the one that had taken his clothes.

"...hey, you uhm.. wouldn't happen to know where my clothes... are?..."

He spoke quietly, and with a somewhat leveled voice not wanting to scare you off not that you could go anywhere.

You sigh before groaning in anger and frustration as you slap your hands to your face and slide down the door.

" I'm sorry... for taking your clothes and giving it to them, for bullying you and leaving mean notes and taking your things and--"

"that... Those.. things were you?..."

He asked in a confused tone, his brows furrowed, as he looked at the ground before slowly looking up to look at you, his eyes shaking, searching your face for an answer that you didn't want to provide.

You hadn't wanted to speak so you simply nodded, sighing as you bang your head back on the door, causing izuku to jump and rush down to you.

"hey, don't do that you could hurt yourself..."

For fucks sakes, you just admitted to doing these horrible things to him and passing them off as a 'prank' and he's still checking on toyou?

The way he looked down at you, his hand on the back of your head making sure you weren't hurt, his fingers rubbed the area soothingly, making your head lean back into his hand.

The two of you were just looking at each other, eyes staring into the others as your faces moved closer, before you knew his it, his breath fanned you face, the smell of mint coming off of it, he liked to chew gum to keep his jawline nice, god he looked so good like this, water droplets from the shower running down his body and wet hair.

The hand that was on your head moved to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it as he brought you close, your noses brushed against each other's slightly, it was so quiet you could practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest, his breaths slowly turning more heavy as he looked down to your lips, licking his that were parted and nibbling lightly on his lower one.

"can I kiss you...please?"

His voice coming off more desperate and whimper-y than he meant.

You were tired of talking, tired of thinking, all you wanted to do was push your feelings from the betrayal you just went through down, and what better way to do that than fuck the person you'd been torturing for 5 days?

You pulled him into a deep kiss, groaning inside of it, your teeth clashed together and you pulled him by his shoulders, making him out his knees on either side of your thighs, his towel threatening to come off, you let him trail the kiss off into your neck as he gently kissed, licked, and nipped at it, little noises coming from him as he did so.

You sighed breathily, your eyes accidentally trailed down his lower abdomen, staring at his well toned abs and the v line going down, god that was so sexy to you, as your eyes kept trailing down you seen how his towel was even managing to somewhat stay up, his cock was fully erect and bobbing against the towel, that was the reason he was making whimper like noises.

He started bucking into the towel making your eyes widen slightly at the sight, a little damp patch forming in the thick towel, had he cum or something? You thought to yourself as he full blown moaned into your ear, was he really gaining that much pleasure from grinding his hard on against a rough towel?

You looked up to him as he looked down at you with a red face, his heart was racing as he looked down at his aching cock then back to you, you connected the dots and guessed he was asking you to touch him.

Without thinking about it, your hands trailed up his abs, then down again as you trickle your fingers over his wrapped cock, you felt his cock twitch underneath your light touches as a breathy sigh leaves his opened mouth, his eyes slightly rolling back, there was no way he was getting this much pleasure from this.

You scoffed and gripped his cock tightly, making his body jolt and a stuttery 'oh' leave his mouth as he looked down at you, grabbed you by your cheeks and pulled you into a heated kiss, he bucked his hips into your hand and he moaned and whined into the kiss, it being hard to stay in it due to him humping into your hand frantically like a bunny during mating season or some shit.

Your teeth clashed against each others once more as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, flicking his against yours, swapping spit and groaning into your mouth as you swallowed all his messy little noises that dropped from his mouth like spit.

He grabbed your other hand and pulled it up to his throat and wrapped it around his neck, you just kept your hand right there not applying any force letting him control it as he kept jerking his hips into your tightly gripped hand, he closed his hand around yours that was also around his neck.

Aww, was this his little attempt at getting you to choke him? I suppose his wish is your command.

You choke him harshly making his eyes roll back as he bit his lip harshly, moans being muffled by it, he bucked his hips a few more times before blowing his load into the towel, his cum seeping through the fabric and dripping onto your wrist and your pants, there was just so much you thought he was never gonna stop.

His hips kept lightly twitching up into the towel causing him to bend forward and moan into your ear due to the over stimulation, god his pitchy moans were so hot.

His hot breath still fanned your ear before he finally said something his voice a little groggy.

"please let me... let me eat you.. I want to taste you, please...?"

His sentence ended with a whimper in your ear as he moved his forehead to lean against yours.

"okay."

Was all you could get out before he pulled down your shorts in a flash, your panties coming off with them, he instantly hurriedly his face in-between your partially opened thighs, his tongue licking and prodding against your lower lips, not pushing his tongue fully inside, he licked a tongue stripe up and down your slit, a moan leaving your lips, you didn't fight anything and just let him work his magic, and bit was he magical with his tongue.

He finally stopped teasing and pushing his pink muscle inside, quickly lapping at your hole and lightly licking you clit in fast motions, he continued this for a while, and by a while I mean about 15 minutes, you were so close to cumming a couple of times but every time he sensed you were about to come he pulled away and pet your slit gently with his thumb, occasionally circling your clit slowly, agonizingly slow.

"wh..- why do you keep testing me like this.."

You groaned and looked down at him with glossed eyes, you didn't expect him to look at you with such a piercing gaze, his lidded emerald eyes staring painful daggers at you as he shoved two of his thick fingers inside of you without warning.

Your back arched and the pain mixed pleasures hips grinding down into his fingers as he finger fucked you, his fingers plunged in and out of you at a insanely fast pace, tears started prickling at the corner of your eyes, you were so close once again before he scoffed and pulled away with a smirk.

"do you really think you deserve to cum after how you've treated me all week? No, you're going to suffer like you made me."

His fingers arched up into you and plunged in and out of you at an erratic pace for about 5 more minutes, he just kept going and stopping not letting you cum.

"you wanna cum, love? Beg. Beg for me to let me cum, slut."

You were sobbing, tears streaming down your puffy red cheeks, hiccups and spit leaving your mouth as a string of incoherent begs left your mouth, you were pleasing helplessly for the orgasms you needed.

He sighed with a smile, squinted emerald eyes peering down at you in an evil, yet satisfied way. He loved how dumb you were from being finger fucked like this, god he could only imagine how brain dead you'd be if he fucked you in his cock.

He didn't say a word as he simply picked up up with ease, man handling you like a ragdoll, and switched your positions, you were now straddling his lap, due to you not expecting him to pick you up so quickly you leaned against his body, your tears falling onto his shoulder as he rubbed your back soothingly, hushing you while kissing the top of your head.

"it's okay, baby, you did so well for me. I'll give you what you need now, okay?"

You gulp hardly, you can hardly even get words out as you're still hiccuping from crying, before you can fully process what he says he undoes his towel that was previously wrapped around his waist and slammed his cock inside of you, you winced at the stretch and the brutal pace he'd already set.

You groan loudly as your eyes roll back, your head falling onto his shoulder as you can barely get out little 'fuck's and 'please's.

He hadn't let up, his hips hammering up into you, you were grinding down into him causing a breathy moan to leave him, a smile made it's way back onto his face as he kissed your head once more.

"you're doing.. so well, my love, it's okay I'll make you cum."

The way he whispered lovingly in your ear made this experience for you so much better for you, you had tightened around him, feeling that familiar feeling, you were going to cum, finally you were going to get to feel that release that you needed, tears continuously fell from your face as you moaned loudly, picking your head up from the crook of his neck to gripping his broad shoulders for stability as you begin grinding into him, feeling so close you hadn't wanted him to rip it away from you again.

He was shocked by the control you ended up taking, he didn't stop thrusting into you, although due to you grinding the rhythm he had set had been thrown off track, your hips hit against each other in an uneven fashion, but you couldn't possibly begin to care when you were finally going to cum.

Izuku grabbed at you hips, holding them tightly to stop you from moving, you tried to continue moving despite his painful grip on your waist, he was far too strong for you to even remotely gain he upper hand, you let him win as he sped up the jerking and jolting of his hips, the clapping sound of your ass meeting his pelvis echoing throughout the locker room.

There was one thrust that hit so vigorously against that sweet spot inside you, everything in you fell apart, you inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back as you grip and scratch as his shoulders harshly leaving a mark and probabkt even drawing blood, he grkaned byt never ceased his hips from stopping, your velvety walls convulsed around his so sweetly it caused his hips to buck into you at a frantic and frenzied pace, his hios stuttering into you as his breath hitched, he squeezed his eyed shut tightly, trying to hold out just a little longer to feel your warn and soft walls tighten around him, alas he simply couldn't, he thrusted one last time before spilling his seed deep inside of you, the warmth of his thick sticky cum warming you entirely, a shiver going up your spine as he lets his head lean into your neck, sighing deeply in the crook.

Your head ended up on top of his, coming your fingers through his damp curls, he sighed in content enjoying the satisfying feeling of your fingers raking and scratching his scalp, you wanted to say so much but also just sit in the moment, it was silent, but it was a comfortable one that you hadn't wanted to ruin with words.

"why did you forgive me so easily."

You say in a groggy and slightly raised voice, you moaned so loudly and cried so hard you had slightly started to lose your voice, izuku simply hummed, enjoying the vibration of your chest as you spoke and the nice feeling of still being inside of your warm messy insides.

"well, I suppose I haven't exactly forgiven you yet, but I'm not going to stop being your friend because of what happened."

"seriously? This shit is fucked up, we're locked in here, with no way to get out, and you don't have any clothes you could get sick. Or worse. Die."

He simply chuckled, making you angry, you were worried and all he could do was laugh at you.

"what?"

"y/n I can't get common sicknesses anymore, I don't know what OFA has done to my immune system but I can't catch things like the flu, or a cold, or anything like that, so I assure you, I won't get sick and I won't die, but thank you for worrying about me."

He chided, informing you factually like you could have possibly known that. you sigh and nuzzle your cold nose back into his damp hair, you sniffed causing him to slightly tense and move back to look at your face.

"are you alright, y/n?"

The way he looked at you with those vibrant emerald eyes, so wide and loving, his cheeks still slightly tinted a light shade of red as his freckles are littered all over his baby like face, you smile and put your forehead to his, closing your eyes making him do the same and sigh.

"I'm okay, but we seriously need to figure out how to get the hell out of here." You say softly, clearing your throat from the scratchiness you could feel, were you getting sick?

"there's a back door that I'm sure they didn't lock. We can skip out though there, do you have your phone on you?"

"oh! Yeah, wh-... fuck me. This whole time I could have called someone to get us out of here." You groan, absolutely disappointed in yourself for not using your shitty brain.

He simply giggles before grabbing your now unlocked phone.

"you must've really wanted to have sex with me, eh?" He tested lightly poking fun at you making you slap his shoulder, another like if laughs leaving him as he calls iida, neither of you expected him to be awake yet he was, his breath was slightly ragged, what had he been doing, maybe out on a run? Doesn't add up too much, it's 10 pm and they have a curfew for 12 am.

Iida had helped you two out, meeting you two at the other exit and giving you clothes to give to izuku, he continuously asked questions on why the two of you weren't in bed and why izuku didn't have any clothes and why you two were even together.

The whole walk back to the dorms was full of iida whisper yelling at the two of you for being irresponsible, you couldn't stop looking at izukus face though, or just him in general, he suddenly became oddly appealing to you, but you still couldn't shake the guilty feeling of the things you and done to him, he glanced at you giving you a warm smile, kissing your head goodnight before turning into his room, taking iida by surprise.

You chuckled and went to your dorm, jumping in your bed and calming it a night, you sighed at the comfortable feeling of your bed, giggling to yourself remembering how izuku came inside of you. Your eyes slowly shut and you drifted off to sleep.

...........................................

AN; this shit is hot ass, but at least the smut is great, I might remake this w/o the pranking part, it was hard to think of a good prank to do for this fic, im kind of dumb so.. yeah. I hope you all enjoyed reading this<33

[kaiserthebiter3]

How would the l&ds men react if they find out about you telling your bestfriend about what happens between you two in bed ?

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus x reader (separately)

requests are open btw :)

Xavier

making yourself comfortable on the couch of your guys' living room , giggling and kicking your feet , totally letting your guard down thinking your handsome boyfriend is still napping .

"I'm telling you tara he may look nice and gentle , but in bed?? noo that guy is the exact opposite of gentle , not that I hate it though" , this was a message sent to your best friend Tara while you girls were discussing how the intimate time with your boyfriends is like.

Xavier passes through the hallway and notices your little giggles and the way you were pretty glued to your phone's screen , curious , he enters the living room without you noticing and gets behind you , and yes he pretty much read everything before you finally noticed him standing behind your back .

you were met with his raised eyebrow and a look on his face that clearly says *really?* , "Xavier what--" he cuts you off "I'm the one who should be questioning you right now , don't you think?" he sighs and proceeds "honey ..what is that , that you're doing?" , you hide your phone behind your back , your cheeks heating up "I mean....nothing important? " , he sits besides you making sure to face you , "nothing important?" you could sense the teasing tone in his voice , he's mocking you "ok , ok i know it might seem weird but it's just tara you know ?" you say brushing it off, "lovely I know you're close with tara but.. to that extent?" he asks , "yeah don't worry it's pretty normal between us....I mean this isn't our first time talking about...this.." xavier raises his eyebrow again but this time in amusement.

"well then" he gets closer to you then raises your chin with his hand "why don't I give you two more stuff to talk about?" with one swift motion , he ripped the buttons off your shirt staring dangerously into your eyes while at it "you make sure you tell her exactly of what is about to happen to you" he mocks you with a wicked grin.

Zayne

You've been waiting for your husband to pick you up from your work place for quite sometime now , however, thankfully your best friend Tara decided to keep you company while you wait for his arrival.

and somehow your conversation had took a rather an interesting turn , "ohh zayne is almost never gentle during it" you say sighing then proceeding "but it is because I , most of the time , rile him up" you remarked proudly , tara gets intrigued "ohhh? do tell your secret" ,she gets closer eager to get some tips from you , "darling" a voice cuts you both off , and you both flinch at the sudden voice coming between you , "it seems like a very important topic you both are discussing , but I'm afraid we have to go home" he says this with the most normal collected tone ever , like you two weren't just talking about his habits in the bedroom , tara gets embarrassed and excuse herself , but she does shoot you a look of "good luck" before leaving you two to be.

on the way home zayne never mentioned it , in fact he was asking how was work today and some other normal questions , so the ride was quite peaceful.

however as soon as you guys are in the house , he finally comments "so I'm almost never gentle huh?" he says so out of the blue with a smirk on his face , catching you off guard , you were hoping he'd actually ignore it and never mention it "well? am I wrong tho??" you reply trying to save some face by attacking him , "no you aren't" he says simply , "but only because almost everytime you rile me up" he said emphasizing the 'you' in the sentence , "zayneee" you whine "stop teasing me ok? you might think it's weird but it's quite normal between girlfriends to.....gossip" you said the last word while hiding your face in the palm of your hands , he chuckles at your state , approaching you he grabs your hands removing them from your face to look at you all flustered , but you moved your gaze away looking at everything in the room but him , "darling look at me" he says gently , and you can't help but fold "I'm not mad , but in fact a little invested in what you tell her" now his tone changes from a gentle to a very teasing one again "I'm pretty sure you've told her about what makes you feel good" he whispers in your ears seductively determined on teasing you , you pause for a few moments but ending up nodding to him defeated , "well then I guess you have to tell me as well , providing me with specific details that is".

Rafayel

it wasn't weird for you that rafayel drags you beside him sometimes , when he wants to paint , he claims that he's able to concentrate better when you're by his side.

but the more your boyfriend painted, the more focused he became, giving you the perfect opportunity to answer the texts tara sent you earlier, unnoticed .

"so you were talking about how your boyfriend is such a tease huh?" tara's texted "yeah exactly , this man has no shame he'd tease me at his workplace sometimes" you reply not knowing that you were smiling unintentionally while writing this, "although i can't say I dislike the thrill that comes with it" you add completely absorbed in the conversation , not noticing your boyfriend who's been trying to talk to you for a minute now , he eventually gives up and snatches the phone out of your hand bringing it up to his face "what's got you so entertained that you forgot about my presence?" he said looking through the screen trying to identify the reason , "rafayel don't---" you said trying to get your phone back before you get busted

"too late my love too late" he winks then gives the phone back to you willingly "I saw everything" he says leaning back relaxed , totally unbothered , but rather amused , and this got you more nervous than you already were , you wanted to say something to defend yourself , you really did ,however you didn't find any .

"ohhh you poor little girl" rafayel mocks getting closer , "seems like the cat got your tongue" his hands are now resting on your hips feeling them up and down slowly "I should tease you like I always do" he parts your legs with a swift motion startling you "only then I could get your sweet sounds to come out".

Sylus

sylus was never the one to pry , but when he overhead you on the phone with tara , he raised an eyebrow.

he had heard some very interesting remarks coming from you , of how he left you breathless and weak in the knees last night , all described in thorough details .

You didn't even notice him standing in the doorway until his deep voice cut off your conversation .

"so that's what you tell your friends?"his tone was a mix of amusement and curiosity , you jumped , clutching the phone to your chest "uhh sylus....I didn't see you there" you said flashing him an innocent smile .

his gaze lingred on you for a while , scanning you , before speaking "I wasn't aware our nights were a topic of discussion between you two" he says crossing his arms.

you huffed , setting your phone aside still red faced , "well it's normal , ok??" you explained defensively "girls share these things with eachother , and tara is the one that I go to for....stuff".

"Stuff?" sylus repeated clearly enjoying watching you flustered , he moved closer backing you against the wall as he leaned down , his face inches from yours , "care to share exactly what kind of 'stuff' you told her?".

you tried to maintain your composure , but your face kept heating up at the memory of the stuff you told her "just ...you know??" you muttered, looking anywhere but his eyes , "no I don't know kitten , speak up" .

you huff again "I...might've mentioned...how rough you are" you admitted , voice barely audible , sylus on the other hand was satisfied with the answer "I see" he hummed with dark amusement , leaning to whisper in your ear "next time , I'll make sure there are a few things you can't quite put into words".

[deathofacupid]

Don’t know if you take requests but something about gojo with an insecure, loser, socially anxious, nervous, pessimistic reader? Like in high school.. he is trying to get to know her, she thinks he is too good for her etc?? Plz

"stop following me," you mutter, a low scowl beneath your breath.

"what?" gojo scoffs, the sound exaggerated, a theatrical flourish. "i would never."

"quit that. i'm serious," you insist, your voice sharpening with a hint of exasperation.

"so am i!" he counters, his tone mirroring yours, but with an underlying playful lilt.

"go away."

"i happen to be heading the same direction," he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"oh, so, you have chemistry next?" you ask, gesturing with a flick of your wrist towards the looming science hall, its sterile windows reflecting the midday sun.

"…no," he admits, a momentary pause, then a quick recovery. "but, hey, can't a student drop by to say hi? to teachers that love him?" he emphasizes the word, a smirk playing on his lips.

"what teachers?" you ask, the words barely audible, a murmur lost in the hum of passing students.

"hey!" he exclaims, clutching his chest dramatically, feigning offense. "you know, i still don't know why you insist on hating me."

"i don't hate you," you correct him, your gaze fixed on a distant point, anything but his face. "i just strongly dislike being in your presence."

"that's, like, the same thing," he says, shrugging off your protest. "i like you, and i know you like me."

"bold assumption," you retort, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. "just 'cause a girl exchanges a few syllables with you, doesn't mean she wants you."

"maybe not," he concedes, a sly grin spreading across his face. "but i'm pretty sure you're the exception."

"go. away," you repeat, pinching the bridge of your nose, attempting to quell the rising tide of frustration.

"c'monnn. you still haven't answered me!" he whines, his voice drawn out into a playful plea.

"and, if i do, you'll leave me alone?" you ask, your tone laced with skepticism.

"maybe," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"i'm not answering you, then."

"please?" he begs, widening his eyes into comical puppy-dog eyes, a classic gojo maneuver.

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, the movement abrupt. "we don't work together, alright? it'd be weird."

"what?" he asks, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "why?"

you sigh, the sound heavy with exasperation. "do i really have to spell it out for you? you're all… you. and, i'm all… not you."

"so? what do they say? opposites attract?" he counters, his voice laced with a confident charm.

"jesus. you're hopeless. why can't you take 'no' for an answer?"

"because i'm a catch. who doesn't want a catch?"

"me."

"but, why?" he asks, his voice laced with a touch of sincere curiosity.

"i already explained this to you. it's not my fault you can't get it through that thick skull of yours."

"okay, first of all, mean. my skull is average-sized," he protests, a mock-injured tone in his voice. "and, second, yeah. i don't get it."

"gojo, look. you're a lot different," you pause, wincing slightly, "social-wise. i couldn't keep up with you. i don't do parties. or, like, talking."

he cuts you off, a wave of his hand dismissing your concerns. "then don't do parties. or, talking. i run my mouth enough for the both of us," he offers, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"there are prettier girls out there. go yearn for one of them."

he makes an ulcer-inducing buzzer noise, a loud, obnoxious bzzzt! "nope, there's not. you're the prettiest of them all," gojo sing-songs, his voice laced with a playful melody. "pretty, and smart, and kind —well, we'll work on that part. but, you're perfect. don't start making up reasons to get me to leave. it won't work anyways."

"you're insufferable," you sigh, the sound a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement, though the flush creeping up your neck betrays your true feelings.

he takes your hand in his, his touch warm and surprisingly gentle, and you don't pull it away. "you don't have to change who you are, just to be with someone who's not the same as you. besides, you're throwing away what we could have, without even trying."

you chew your lip, the nervous habit betraying your inner turmoil. it feels like a horrible idea, a collision of personalities that could end disastrously.

but, you've never been good at resisting him, his charm a persistent, inescapable force. "i don't know," you say, finally, the words laced with uncertainty.

"i do, though. so, why don't you trust me?" he asks, his eyes locking with yours, a depth of emotion in their blue depths.

he pulls you closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. and, you do. you do trust him, in all his annoying, infuriating, and undeniably captivating glory.

banner credits to @/im4yeons <33

[r--kt]

Do you like Kakashi's dogs? Let's talk about why there are eight of them.

another example of naruto's ✨cultural code✨

contents | the eight dog warriors chronicles · legacy · eight confucian virtues. also look at the cuties love them sm

Naruto Vol. 10 CH 90

[ one dog is wonderful, I'm saying as the owner of a sweet little york terrier. two dogs are good, they won't be bored together. three dogs? yeah, cool! how are you going to walk them though? four? yes... look, maybe we have to draw the line h- wha- EIGHT? Excuse Me!? ]

surely, it's worth starting with the fact that eight is a lucky number in Japanese culture — everybody watched Hachi. of course, this is not the only cultural detail where the eight is mentioned. I want to pay special attention to a thing that I didn't know about until I googled it, and this is clearly what Kishimoto was doing homage to with Kakashi's eight ninken.

The Eight Dog Warriors Chronicles

Better known as Nansō Satomi Hakkenden. and it's not just some kind of book, it's a novel, consisting of 106 booklets written by Kyokutei Bakin in XIX century. Hakkenden is considered the largest novel in the history of Japanese Literature. this is one of the main representatives of the gesaku genre, which includes works of a frivolous, joking, silly nature. further I will emphasize a few more times how damn popular this work is and how often it is reflected in culture.

here are some illustrations for these books

now let's talk about the plot. It's weird, but it's weird at samurai-dogs-story level so stay here.

In brief, the story tells about the commander Satomi Yoshizane, whose native lands were attacked by the army of a man, whose forces surpassed those of Satomi, and the samurai in despair swore to a dog named Yatsufusa that the dog would get his beloved daughter Fuse as a wife if he chewed that man's throat. surprisingly, the dog not only understood the owner, but also fulfilled his wish! after that the commander refused to keep the promise. however, Fuse, true to her word of honor, went with Yatsufusa to the mountains and became his wife. upon learning that his daughter was pregnant, Satomi, in a rage, sent a samurai to kill Yatsufusa and bring Fuse home. she stood up for the dog anyways and died with him. at that moment, eight pearls with hieroglyphs that denoted the foundations of Confucian virtue burst out of her womb. (...cheers for mythology, I guess)

Soon, eight dog warriors who were Fuse's spiritual children were born in different parts of Awa province. after going through hardships, they got together and became vassals of the Satomi clan, then won the battle, and soon reached peace.

some more illustrations made by Utagawa Kuniyoshi. from left to right: Inukawa Sōsuke (the dog warrior), Inumura Daikaku (the dog warrior), Princess Fuse (their mother).

the novel mainly tells about each individual warrior dog and his shenanigans in a funny adventurous way. huge fame has led to excerpts from Hakkenden being staged at the Kabuki Theater and mentioned in the anime and manga, such as Inuyasha, Dragon Ball, as it turned out, Naruto and so on. there's also a lot of films and video games.

The eight virtues

these are loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, love, honesty, justice, harmony, and peace.

they relate more to Chinese culture, but basically Hakkenden was inspired by it too. since I did not read the whole novel, I would still like to mention at least the values on which it is based, and which were embedded in the symbolism of this story. It's quite interesting to apply this to Kakashi's dogs. gives them more weight and depth.

It is also interesting to note that the reason why Fuse gave birth to dogs was also that her father was cursed earlier in the story in a way that his descendants would become depraved like dogs. in Japanese culture, dogs embody the duality of character: the same mentioned filth and depravity, and devotion and bravery. so as samurai. but this is a different conversation, more related to Kakashi and his dog poetry.

Did you get here? Here's an additional discovery for you✨

Pakkun's name (パックン) is derived from the Japanese onomatopoeia “pakupaku” (パクパク) which reflects the sound of munching.

Kakashi, that's very sweet of you.

thank you for reading this to the end ♡

[superfallingstars]

Ok my actual take on the Greasecourse™ (which I’m sure everyone was hotly anticipating) is something I’ve said over and over again on this blog, which is that nearly anything can work with the right framing. In other words, you can pick basically any reason for Snape’s hair to be greasy as long as you can make it make sense within the story that you're trying to tell. There just has to be a reason (a good reason – that’s the part that gets a little more arbitrary) why you picked one explanation over another. This will probably make more sense if I give some examples

Snape’s hair is greasy because he never developed good hygiene habits due to poverty and neglect -> Emphasizes how his childhood and upbringing still deeply affects him

Snape’s hair is greasy because he has poor hygiene habits due to depression -> I’m not going to go through all the reasons this guy could be depressed, there’s literally so many

Snape’s hair is greasy because of sensory issues -> This is probably one of many ways his sensory issues/neurodivergence/autism manifests, how else does that affect him?

Snape's hair is greasy because of potion fumes -> Imo this one runs the risk of being boring if you make it sound like it’s totally out of his control... the important part would be to consider how Snape feels about and reacts to it. But depending on how you deal with that, I think you can make it work in a few ways. Maybe it shows that Snape is industrious and always working, even to the detriment of his hygiene, or it could show that he cares more about the things that interest him than he does about what others think of him... or a secret third thing

Snape actually tries to make his hair look nice, but it’s just naturally very greasy -> I quite like this one as a follow-up to the first one (the never developed good hygiene habits one). Even when he tries to do the right thing (the correct thing?), he still ends up failing lol. Emphasizes his wet pathetic side

Snape’s hair is greasy because he’s a loser and a bad person -> Well I think it’s very boring to make a character ugly to indicate that they are Morally Bad but it's certainly a strategy... sometimes it's very clear that an author is trying to make the reader dislike a character when they describe them as gross/ugly/whatever. Hell Rowling did this literally all the time (Not that that was a good thing lol)

Alright I'm going to stop myself there because omg I didn't think I would have so much to say about Snape's greasy hair. Good lord

[two-white-butterflies]

for the plot

Description: You have a boyfriend, and the entire firm is trying to figure out who he is. One thing is for sure though: Mike Ross is good at hiding secrets from everyone except Rachel Zane.

Part two of slowburn, but can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: harvey specter/reader

Warning: slightly oc harvey because trust me, he wouldn't date anyone during this era.

It was Monday morning when a bouquet of flowers was spotted on top of your office desk. Correction, you could barely see your office desk because all the interns and associates were gathered around your office like they were gawking at an animal inside a zoo enclosure. "What are all of you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow.

You suppose that some of the interns don't get paid - but the associates most definitely are - and they shouldn't be doing this during office hours. "Someone sent you some flowers," Phoebe points out as she shoved her way through the crowd.

The associates and interns alike opted to stare at the floor, prepared to hear you reprimand them (and in your defense, you don't reprimand them at all, but the circumstances were different this time), but you hold your tongue. A sigh escapes your mouth - typical Harvey, always showing off - you think to yourself while feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

"Get back to work!" You ordered as the crowd dispersed, as if they weren't even there in the first place.

Everyone returned to their proper workstations, everyone except Phoebe who was quite adamant in following you inside of your office.

She tilts her head slightly.

"Aren't you going to tell me who sent you those flowers?" She asks. Your eyebrows merged. "My boyfriend, who else?" You answered plainly - a teasing smirk plastered on your lips as you settled on the desk. Donna has certainly been rubbing off Phoebe with her (caring) nosy abilities. It unnerves you how much those two know about the people in this office - they know eveything! Even what Jessica eats for breakfast (hyperbole).

You tapped your fingers impatiently on the desk, reaching for Harvey's small but toe-curlingly sweet note.

Happy Monday, my little duckling. I hope that this day treats you well - H. Reginald ;)

On your second date, you fell into a koi pond, and a few ducklings gathered around your body as if you were their mother, or part of their family, which is why Harvey has given you that nickname. The story sounds embarrassing, but that's the crazy thing about love: you can do the most embarrassing things, and they'd still be in love with you.

"What's it say?" Phoebe sits on the chair parallel to you, a bundle of files clutched near her chest, and you know that she only brought those files so she could have a reason to march inside of your office. A genuine smile ghosts your lips. She's already being such a good lawyer by asking you all these questions - it's obvious that she wants to know everything. And you will reiterate, she knows everything. Everything except who you're dating...

"Nothing to you," you placed the note inside of your pocket.

A whine escapes her mouth as she settles the files on your desk. There are at least twenty files already beginning to pile on your desk, and it's only Monday morning! Being a lawyer is such a boring job. "When are you going to tell me the name of your lover?" She emphasizes the word lover, knowing how much you hated that word.

"The day that you stop being so damn nosy," you rolled your eyes, a mischievous plan beginning to form in your mind. Phoebe and Donna always know the juicy workplace gossip, and they refuse to share it with you! Them not knowing the identity of your boyfriend makes your stomach giddy with mischievousness. This is basically their payback for not telling you about that thing with Harold Brink.

"I'm not nosy. I'm just curious and you told me that curiosity is the weapon of a good lawyer." She used your quote against you.

"A good lawyer also knows when to stop asking questions, so get the hell out of my office and get back to work!" You used your boyfriend's favorite catchphrase against her, a teasing smile still plastered on your lips as you hoped she wouldn't recognize your tone.

A few words of complaint exit her mouth, but she goes back to work nonetheless. Sorry Phoebe, let me have my fun, you'll find out soon enough anyway...

It was during lunchtime in the partner's lounge that you were able to meet your boyfriend. He was eating his favorite salad when you walked in with your warm moussaka, courtesy of Phoebe, who gave it to you in the hopes that you'd tell her who your boyfriend is.

"I thought your lunch break was at 12?" He pulled the empty chair beside him, leaving you ample space to sit down and open the metal lunchbox. "I eat my lunch when I want to eat my lunch," you answered with an eyeroll. "Whatever you say," he chuckles while reaching for his lunchbox to bring out a box of Chuckie, your favorite chocolate milk from the Asian supermarket.

Chuckie is perhaps mankind's greatest creation besides Milo.

"I saw your fridge filled with this, so I brought one for you," he whispered, and you gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you!" You pressed a kiss to his lips. You've never seen Harvey act this way before - he always keeps his feelings hidden in his chest. He's an action guy more than a words guy, but you can see that he's trying to be both for you, and the thought of that warms your heart.

"Don't worry, I got it from your fridge." He says, and a gasp escapes your mouth. You hit his forearm lightly, and he releases a chuckle.

"I'm joking," he raises his hands in mock surrender. "I'd never steal anything from you." He emphasizes the word 'steal', which makes you frown because he has already stolen your heart (cheesy).

"Oh, by the way, thank you for the flowers. Phoebe has been asking me about you the entire day, but she doesn't actually know it's you." You giggled while taking a bite of your moussaka. "Donna has also been bugging me about your boyfriend, and I told her that I didn't know and didn't care if you were dating anyone." he informs.

Your eyes having a conversation of its own.

"It's so annoying how they know everything," you groaned endearingly. "So we have the same idea then?" He asks, aware that your minds work in the same way. It is part of the reason why he loves you with all of your heart - you are his intellectual equal. He likes the way that you are whole even without him, and you like him for that same reason, too. He doesn't make you perfect because you are already perfect. He just makes you feel more and vice versa.

"Try and drag this thing on because it is quite scary how much they already know about us then tell them who we're dating when the time is right?" You inquired, checking to see if he had the same idea.

"Exactly," He confirmed.

"Cool," you smiled.

"Cool," he repeated your phrase while taking a sip of your chocolate milk.

Wednesday noon.

You leaned on your office chair, popping your headphones on as you continued watching your third episode of the day. Normally, your weeks are filled with cramming and stress, but miraculously, there is nothing to do today. Well, maybe your motivation (Harvey) just makes you work a tad bit faster than before.

You lowered the brightness of your laptop.

If Jessica finds out how fast you finish these cases, she'd be very mad and impressed, but the thing is...she doesn't have to know.

You pretended to type away on your laptop, but truly, you're watching a Turkish drama that Harvey's sister-in-law recommended. You were about to reach the scene where Serkan Bolat finds out about his secret daughter, but your MS Teams begins ringing loudly, almost rendering you deaf because hello, you're wearing headphones.

Harvey Reginald Specter is calling you...

DONNA PAULSEN

"Hey, baby."

Donna hears a female voice from the other side of the intercom, specifically, Harvey's intercom. Her ears almost pulsed at the sound of a strangely familliar voice from the other side of the line, but the voice fades in the background when Harvey switches his intercom off. Donna's head went careening, her office chair spinning around so that she'd be facing Harvey's office.

She almost feels proud of him for going on a date after so long, but knowing him, he's not the type of person to commit, and knowing him, the only person he's ever been fond of is you, although he doesn't really say it out loud. To that thought, Donna's heart sinks to her stomach - right you had a boyfriend and Harvey has a fling.

At least both of you aren't married yet.

You still have time to date each other.

Donna's eyes narrowed, trying to read his lips, but Harvey, being clever and private, turned his office chair around so that he'd be staring at New York's skyline. His back was entirely facing Donna. She couldn't even see his face through the window's reflection.

Damn!

But thankfully, just as Donna was about to give up, Phoebe (her best friend in the whole wide world alongside Rachel) was strolling by. "Pst, Phebes!" Donna called out to her in a half-whisper, and the associate turned to look in her direction. "What?" She asked.

"I just heard Harvey talk to a woman on the phone. He even turned off his intercom, he never turns his intercom off! It must be serious." Donna added a personal opinion to the story that she was telling. A gasp escapes Phoebe's mouth. "Could it be (Your Name)?" Donna inquires - able to remember that you were also dating someone whom Phoebe speculates also works in the firm.

"Nope, she was on her laptop the last time I saw her, and her phone's literally charging in my cubicle." Phoebe shot the question down quick. "Damn, love is in the air in this office I guess." Donna thought to herself, and a giggle escaped the associate's lips.

"All this love and no boyfriends for us," the associate complained.

"I know, right?" Donna continued watching Harvey's figure.

"So, are you going to try and figure out who Harvey's dating?" Phoebe inquires, always the one to try and piece two and two together. Donna reminds herself that the associate worked as a detective for two years before going to law school.

Donna shakes her head. She knows her best friend like the back of her own hand. "I know how Harvey gets when it comes to his lovelife. If she's important, we'll know - if she's not, she'll be gone." Donna sighs, and Phoebe nods her head.

"I guess, plus, I feel like he'd get mad at us for trying to pry into his personal life like that..." She agrees.

"You're doing the same thing to (Your Name), for your information." Donna teases. "If she doesn't like me trying to know, she'll tell me, but I have a feeling that she's only hiding her boyfriend because she likes annoying me," Phoebe mumbles.

"Yeah, you do look a little cute when you're annoyed." Donna chuckled. "Whatever, Donna." Phoebe rolled her eyes.

MIKE ROSS

"I already prepared the restaurant you're going to, the flowers are ready, yes, I also booked a private room because I know how busy and loud La J'amie gets during Sundays." Mike Ross opened his mouth to speak, partly annoyed and confused as to why Harvey was treating him like he was his personal assistant.

"Good," Harvey replied while highlighting the mistakes in the contract that Mike Ross drafted. "Why are you making me do this, anyway? You have Donna," Mike pointed out.

Harvey's eyebrows merged together, personally offended. "Why am I making you do this? Because I'm the reason you work in this office?" Harvey rolled his eyes while handing the contract draft back to the associate. "Right," Mike stared off to the side.

He's thankful to Harvey for giving him this job, but sometimes he just wants to leave - because he knows that this isn't his place. He loves being a lawyer and all, but it feels wrong practicing when he doesn't have a law degree - when he has cheated his way through everything that he's pretending to have now.

But that's a problem for another day.

"When are you going to tell them that you're with each other?" Mike asks in a rather pressing tone because Rachel has been suspicious of him - mostly because he spends a lot of time outside and he no longer has free time to go on dates with her - because Harvey is making him plan everything that he's doing with you and it's horrible because Mike doesn't even have the reigns to anything. Harvey micromanages him with this date-related nonsense. Harvey doesn't even care about half of the work that Mike does in the lawfirm!

"That's for me to know and for you to find out, now get the hell out of my office and get back to work." Harvey commanded.

There were a million things that Harvey Specter loved about you, but what he loved the most was your ability to persuade and tell a story. You had a silver tongue, and you were an expert raconteur. Whereas he relied on his charm and his ability to see through everything, this union of yours proved to be divine as you covered his blind spots and he covered yours.

In the courtroom, both of you were formidable lawyers (which, you admit, sounds a bit like liars, but you've never lied, only partly obscured the truth). "You know, the funny thing is, I hate mergers and acquisitions." You confessed while tracing the imaginary lines of his chest. "That used to be your field," he scoffed.

Yep, because it's the field that brings in the most clients!

"I know, and it's so repetitive. If I were able to choose my specialty again, I'd go to family law." You mumbled, eyelids fluttering as you fought against your inevitable drowsiness. His hands slither down to your waist, pulling you closer and lifting the covers over your shoulder. "Please, you'd be too stressed there, all your hair would fall out." He mumbled while pressing a kiss to your temple.

"It's the most interesting specialty, please. You know how Anna Karenina said; All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." You remembered the quote from the time that your high school teacher forced you to read the book.

Harvey is silent for a second, perhaps, relating to the quote.

"Harvey?" You raised an eyebrow, suddenly remembering the story about his family. "When we have a family, if you want to have one, let's try to make everyone happy." He asks, as you burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck. "We'll have a happy family, Harvey. I promise," you gave him a smile.

"Good," he nods his head.

Perfect.

RACHEL ZANE

Rachel Zane's eyebrows merged together.

"It's a Saturday and you're going somewhere?" She inquired, watching as Mike hurried to wear his clothes.

"I'm sorry, it's Harvey." He reasoned, his voice apologetic.

"What is he making you do now?" She interrogated, a hand on her waist as she stared up at him. "Classified client interviews," Mike pressed a kiss to her forehead. She wants to believe him - Mike is not the type of person who lies just to get what he wants, but she's been cheated on before - she's been someone's mistress before.

All liars think everyone lies.

She feels guilt bubble in the bottom of her stomach. "I'll see you on Monday, then." She mumbles underneath her breath, watching as unease floods Mike's features. "I love you, okay." Mike repeats.

"I love you, too, Mike." She replies.

.

.

.

Rachel was about to put Mike's coat in the laundry, but her hands brushed past a few papers inside his coat pockets. She pulls each paper out, thankful that she thought to check his pockets before throwing them in the wash - these could be important - she thinks to herself as her hands danced over a thicker piece of parchment.

Reservation in La J'amie for two. Sunday 7:00pm. Private room.

"Private room?" Her eyebrows merged, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. Her previous thoughts echoed in her head. All liars think everyone lies. All cheaters think that everyone cheats.

Is Mike cheating on her?

She knows that she deserves it - she deserves losing this perfect dorky and nerd guy because she isn't entirely a perfect person. But, she promised to change a long time ago - and she has changed. She knows that karma doesn't care, though, but she hoped that karma would gloss over this man because she really, really loves him.

She loves Mike with all of her heart, without any doubts, and without asking for anything else in return. Rachel sank to the floor, her eyes trailing back and forth as she contemplated her next actions.

.

.

.

Thankfully, Phoebe was free - Donna was on a date.

"When you catch them together, we have to beat Mike up. Of course, we have to ask the girl if she knows, and if she does, I will drag her off the pavement!" Phoebe rambled with anger pulsing through her veins as if she were the one cheated on. "I'll assault them. I'll make sure their parents won't be able to recognize them -"

Phoebe's words are interrupted when they see a familiar car pull up the restaurant's driveway. Harvey Specter's car. A 1961 Black Jaguar E-Type - Rachel remembers from Mike's drunkish ramblings (mostly complaining about his boss).

He sees Harvey Specter step out of the vehicle, walking around the busy streets to open the left-side door - revealing you.

"Oh my god, they're dating each other," Phoebe mumbles out loud as Rachel pulls her towards a pole that is big enough to obscure their slender bodies. It isn't lost on the girls - the way that Harvey's hand curled around the small of your waist while guiding you inside the restaurant, there were basically hearts in both of your eyes, drunk at the sight of each other that you were unable to notice Phoebe (who was wearing a neon magenta coat) and Rachel.

"So, Mike isn't cheating on me. Harvey's just making him do restaurant reservations because he doesn't want you and Donna to know." Rachel says to herself. She's smart - very smart.

Phoebe releases a deep breath - good - because she wasn't exactly sure that she'd be able to drag Mike and his alleged mistress through the crowded streets of New York City. "You know that there's only one way to find out, right?" Phoebe raises an eyebrow while dragging Rachel inside of the restaurant.

Phoebe marches in the direction of the receptionist with a cadence that only a woman who could afford to eat there could. "Good evening, ma'am, may I take your name?" The receptionist looked around nervously; he was obviously new here.

"Ross. I have a reservation in the private room." Phobe announces with her chin held up high. Rachel is almost thankful that the other woman decided to wear a neon magenta coat for only someone rich could have the courage of wearing something as ugly as that.

"Sorry, ma'am. We don't have a reservation under the name Ross. We have one under the name Specter, though." The receptionist says with a forced smile. Rachel and Phoebe exchange a knowing look.

Rachel relaxes.

"I think that was in another restaurant, Phebes." Rachel suddenly blurts out, a wave of relief washing over her features and soul. "Oh, right, apologies for that, darling." Phoebe smiles while turning around to leave. The moment that both of the women stepped outside the restaurant, a happy shriek escaped Phoebe's lips.

"Oh my fucking god," she cheered. Happy to finally know the identity of your boyfriend - there was only one thing in Phoebe's mind, 'I told you so', that was the first thing she was going to tell Donna. Rachel forces a smile on her lips - her personal issues with infidelity were a conversation for another day. Today, she's going to be happy for you.

You tilted your head slightly, seeing a familiar magenta coat from your periphery. "Phoebe and Rachel are here." You pointed out, and Harvey twists his neck his eyes meeting those of Rachel and he gives a nod of confirmation.

You share a smile with your boyfriend and he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "One thing is for sure, they know." You hummed.

"We'll deal with them tomorrow," he chuckled amusedly.

[mxdarling]

["damn it why can’t you just love me back?" / "be good for me this time. i don’t want to see you cry again."]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: you don't love him back, riddle desperately wishes you did & you hate conflicts yet you continue to have them with your loving boyfriend, epel.

ೃ⁀➷: word count: 2.3k (riddle's part: 1.2k, epel's part: 1.0k)

ೃ⁀➷: reference/inspiration: n/a

ೃ⁀➷: event: [200 followers event]

[author’s note:] oooooo.. you picked out some good dialogue choices for both riddle and epel anon- i definitely had a lot of fun writing this (and god a lot of burnout from this LOLL but what's new?)

ALSO MORE RIDDLE ANGST i'm (not) so sorry riddle fans but he's such a perfect material for angst i can't- for epel's part, it's a little.. disturbing?? originally planned it to be soft but uh.. somehow wrote itself... please read the warnings before proceeding to epel's part!!, but uh- anyways thank you anon for requesting riddle and epel with 34 & 47! i had fun writing this so please enjoy!

[warnings:] lowercase, yandere behavior, you/your prns, reader is yuu, (riddle's part:) angst, unrequited love, confession scene (or rejection scene), obsessive behavior, intrusive thoughts, prefect has hair and drinks tea, riddle spirals, (epel's part:) slightly ooc, prefect takes pills, prefect has insomnia, manipulation (guilt-tripping, gaslighting, and minimization), brief mentions of past abuse (physical, neglect, and emotional), abandonment and attachment issues, mentions of jealousy behavior.

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[GN reader]

due to his strict and sheltered upbringing, RIDDLE ROSEHEART wasn't always aware of holidays beyond school-related events, as well as unbirthday parties and birthday parties. however, he still made an effort to educate himself on these occasions, particularly when the most anticipated holiday this month was valentine's day. he isn't exactly sure why you were particularly excited about this certain holiday, and whenever he would ask, he'd get the same vague answer every single time with that cheeky grin of yours: "you'll see for yourself!". after a few attempts at getting no concrete answer from you, he decided to follow through with your word and wait until the holiday came around the corner.

(he can't help but love the way your eyes glimmer in eagerness as you happily talk his ears away about the different kinds of traditions that come with the holiday. the tea he's asked trey to prepare especially for you was long forgotten as he focuses on just you and all your beauty: the melodic sounds that come out of your mouth, the fast hand gestures you've been doing for the past hour as a way to emphasize how excited you are, that big smile that stretches to your ears—showing a lot of your teeth, how your cheeks became even more pinchable as the seconds pass by, and the way your hair beautifully frames your face.

if he were to list down all the little details about you, it would probably surpass the three hundred rules the queen of hearts established; to him, it felt quite shameful. breaking his line of thought, he went back to pleasantly listening to your voice, upholding a conversation with you, asking questions about what you've just said, providing his own input on the topic, sharing ideas with one another, and essentially, being a good friend of yours. however, the mere suggestion of that notion leaves a tingling bitterness in his mouth.)

today is the day. the holiday you kept talking to him about (the only thing you talked about) and the holiday you were very excited about was valentine's day. to say he felt thrilled would be an overstatement. not to mention you were the only one who had prepared anything for the chosen holiday while everyone else treated it like any other normal weekday. he saw how your previously excited expression turned into one he could only describe as a sulking puppy—with a deep frown and teary eyes. had it been anyone else who saw you in such a state, they would've assumed you had been rejected by someone (he'd never do that to you, just so you know). he wasn't the best at comforting those around him, you know that; everyone else knows that; he, himself, especially knows that.

knowing this, he attempted to comfort you in a way he only knows how: through a tart. with the help of trey and the others (ones he won't name for the sake of his pride), he was able to make you tarts in your favorite flavor; he even wrapped them in a color he knows you very much like—all in an effort to see that smile on your face and to be the reason why it's there in the first place.

(he lives for your smile; scratch that, he lives for your happiness and comfort, he lives for your laughter, he lives for you and solely you. that bright smile of yours could eradicate any worries of his that plague his mind and allow him to sleep in peace; that laughter of yours could leave him hypnotized and unable to focus on anything but your voice, your sound, you. if he were to ever find you in displeasure or tears, he'd find a way to revert them into happiness; it doesn't matter who, what, or where this source of discomfort is coming from, he will fix it. for you, no issue is too big nor too troubling for him to solve.)

he waits in the spot he asked you to arrive at after class, the neatly wrapped-up tart in one hand and his other hand on his chest. as minutes slowly pass by, he can feel the thumping of his heart on his hand, how it feels every beat against his chest, how it feels every vibration flowing through his veins, and how it feels his chest inhaling and exhaling as he tries to calm down his heartbeat. he wouldn't want you to see him in such a state. no, you couldn't see him like this at all; he needed to be his best for you, perfect even. otherwise, he wouldn't be deserving of those small moments shared only between you and him; he wouldn't be worthy of seeing your smile and laughter every week (he wishes to see that smile every day, every hour, every minute, every second); he wouldn't be able to earn the right to be by your side his whole life.

the sound of hurried footsteps brings him out of his thoughts, getting louder and clearer by the second. he knows it's you; he memorized the sound and pattern of your footsteps by heart. he could practically hear it in his sleep. quickly, he brushes off any (nonexistent) dirt on his uniform, standing up straight with one of his hands at the back to appear gentleman-like (like he wasn't just contemplating his worthiness to be with you a few minutes ago), and presenting a small smile on his face just for you.

he couldn't remember how it got to this point; everything happened so fast that it eventually blurred out in his mind, unable to fill in the little details of the moments before you read his letter attached to the wrapped-up tart. he couldn't recall the faces you've made when reading his letter, but those seven words you've uttered to him still remain clear in his mind:

"i don't feel the same way."

"i don't feel the same way."

"i don't feel the same way."

he should have expected this to happen; he should have expected someone as amazing as you not to like someone as stiff and rigid as him; he should have known that his confession would end up being rejected. yet, his heart aches in pain, and his hand clutches his chest as a way to relieve that aching pain—but to no avail does it lessen the pain or go away. instead, he watches you walk away from him; he watches as his whole worldview falls apart right before his eyes. you didn't take the wrapped-up tarts he meticulously prepared for you; you didn't take his letter, his heart, his love, or his devotion; you took absolutely nothing from him.

so why does he feel like he just lost a part of himself when you walked away? why does he feel like he became an empty shell of who he once was? why do these tears roll off his cheeks when nothing was taken from him? why does it hurt so much to be denied sharing a life with you? why, why, why, why—

all these questions flooded his head, questions that are all trying to find answers he doesn't have answers to. he has nothing to offer other than a choked-up whisper:

"damn it… why can’t you just love me back?"

EPEL FELMIER, a great friend and lovely boyfriend of yours, someone who you wouldn't trade for anyone else in the world, someone you wouldn't dream of leaving behind, someone you love to death—at least, that's how you've hoped to view epel. you were never the type to argue with other people or engage in conflicts; in fact, you hated it. you hated the back and forth of hurting each other with words, you hated the yelling until throats got dry, the screaming in each other's ears until someone became deaf, the slow but steady escalation of turning the fight into a physical one, the sounds of punches, the sounds of painful grunts, the sight of blood being splattered all over the floor, and everything else that came with having an argument.

you would much rather observe from the outside, be the watcher to every scene and clip, be the silent witness to every fight that occurs, and be the bystander from afar as the chaos around you unfolds right before your eyes. it is more peaceful that way, less painful, less scary, and less permanent. it made sleeping at night much easier, with fewer nightmares, fewer pills to be taken in a day, fewer chances of the pillows being soaked with tears, and fewer chances of people asking if you slept well last night whenever you go outside.

(you sat back against your bedroom door, covering your mouth with your hand as a way to silence your cries. if you had extra hands, you would cover your ears too, but you couldn't; you couldn't risk them hearing you awake and listening in to their conversation. you had a strict bedtime to follow through; it wouldn't do you good to go against the bedtime rule or any rule they've established in this household. best case scenario, you would get away with just a few words and a slap thrown at you; worst case scenario, you'd have to go through another tiring, cruel session with them.

they argue every second of the day to the point where if they had neighbors, their front door would be littered with complaints about how loud their voices can be heard from across the block. they argue mostly in the mornings (which is good; you don't need another reason to be kept awake at night till early sunrise). rarely do they argue at night, as they're too tired to even talk to one another (and you), let alone cook dinner for them (and you), but when they do, it's worse, so much worse (for you). you'd hear a lot of sounds behind the door: sounds of screaming, yelling, skin hitting skin, several thuds—some loud, some soft—and glass breaking and shattering. all you wanted was a glass of water, but they couldn't even give you that.)

despite your clear dislike and avoidance of conflicts and fights, it seems to always follow you around, through every corner and every turn, through every hallway and every classroom. it doesn't go away no matter how much you try to fight, no matter how much you try to not let it appear; it's always there, watching from afar. sometimes it slowly creeps its way into certain events of your life, sometimes slithering its way into relationships shared with ones you cherish most, and in some cases, causing a rift between you and the people you love and making them leave you behind.

you hate when conflicts do that to the people you love; it makes you feel lonely, it makes you feel empty inside, it makes you feel like you've lost a part of yourself when they left, it makes you long for another relationship with them even though it's beyond repair, and it makes you think about those nights spent with them. you hated when conflicts ruin your life with a single fight, but you remain powerless against its effects on your relationships with others.

right now its current victim is your loving boyfriend, epel, and you hate to admit it, but arguments with him have been occurring more and more frequently recently, even more than with those people you've been in relationships with before. the arguments would vary in causes:

"how come you never spend time with me anymore? you're always with other people, y'know..."

"who's that guy you were with earlier? you know him? what was he tryin' to talk to you about?"

"someone chatted you? who is it? let me see the messages"

some have told you that this is not healthy, that this kind of behavior is concerning, that.. you should leave him before it's too late. you couldn't, because he'd have no one to be by his side; he'd have no one beside him as he sleeps. you wouldn't, because you love him; you don't leave the people you love behind, you stay with them—even through the bad times. you wouldn't let another conflict drive a wedge between you and a loved one again, not now, not with him.

so you'll stay, you'll stay in this relationship with him, even when things get tough, even when things don't go as planned.

even when your friends slowly distance themselves from you.

(they just don't understand us, but i do, i understand you)

even when he raises his voice at you.

(i'm just angry; it's normal to be angry. don't be so dramatic)

even when his grip on you is a bit too tight.

(i'm just worried you'll leave me.. just like everyone else did)

even when he's the one that makes you cry at the end of each fight.

(you're so sensitive... one small thing and you start crying...)

you've mentioned before how you hate when conflicts ruin your life with a single fight, but maybe this time, these conflicts with him are trying to tell you something.

"this can be fixed," he says softly. "we can fix this," he says again, gently cradling you in his arms as if you were glass, as if you could break at any given moment and time. you cry on his shoulder as he tightens his grip around you; his embrace is soft but cold, comforting but restrictive, and loving but controlling.

you've mentioned before that you'll stay in this relationship with him, that you won't leave him, despite everything, despite good and bad, but maybe this time, there's more to just leaving what you have with him behind.

"be good for me this time! i don’t want to see you cry again..."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[vettelsvee]

I CAN BUY YOU SOME FLOWERS | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

redbull sebastian vettel x journalist!reader

word count: 1955

warnings: seb just being a flirt and then, a shy sunshine who just wants to surprise reader :) use of y/n.

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

After an intense race dominated by Red Bull, with Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber securing a 1-2 finish, respectively, it was Y/N Y/L/N's turn to interview the winner. With her notebook in one hand and a recorder in another, she quickly adjusted her attire to look as presentable as possible before the interview with who she considered her favorite person to interview started.

"Congratulations, Sebastian!" the girl began as the blonde approached her. "As always, an impressive victory. How do you feel about it? You've achieved, if I'm not wrong, a total of six consecutive wins this season."

"Thank you very much, Y/N," Vettel replied as professionally as he could. "It was a really tough race. We had to push hard and extract energy from the car where there wasn't any to maintain our lead," he explained, focusing his gaze on the journalist. "Still, I can't help but be happy with the result. The team has done an incredible job."

Y/L/N was nervous. She knew that, sooner or later, the world champion would start with the back-and-forth banter so characteristic of their relationship, punctuated with his... kinda romantic jokes.

"Let's talk about today's strategy," the journalist abruptly changed the subject, following the agenda outlined in her notebook. "Do you think it lived up to previous ones, or should it improve in any aspect for future races?"

Sebastian laughed, crossing his arms.

"I don't think I should tell you anything about strategies just in case the other teams hear us, Y/N. But for you... I'll say that strategy is like dancing in a nightclub," the blonde explained. "Sometimes it's crowded, and you have no space. Other times, the floor is all yours, and there are moments when you have to improvise to get the girl, and that's what I did today, trusting myself and my instincts."

She nodded, inwardly amused by the ridiculous comparison made by the current championship leader.

"So, you see," he continued, "it seems the strategy turned out to be a success. I hope Horner and Marko are proud of me."

"They surely are, Sebastian," the journalist affirmed. "And now, I'd like to move on to talk about your teammate, Mark Webber. Your ups and downs are known worldwide, especially among your team's loyal followers. Is there anything you'd like to highlight about him? We've never heard you say anything positive about the Australian, and I'd like to give that scoop to the world."

"You're right. If I don't mention Mark, he'll probably give me a good scolding as soon as I finish talking to you," Vettel commented in a mocking tone. "Okay, I'll be honest with you: if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have many great races. But don't tell Mark or his ego will skyrocket!"

The young woman laughed once again. She knew that, in some way, Sebastian was right, but she was also aware of all the great achievements he had accomplished as the three-time world champion.

"Don't worry, Sebastian," the brunette assured him, "your secret is safe with me."

"Call me Seb, darling."

There it was.

The moment she, deep down, had been waiting for. Sebastian the flirt Vettel had once again made a stellar appearance, and the journalist was sure he wouldn't leave anytime soon.

She didn't know why it mattered to her. After all, he had the same stupid behavior with the rest of the female journalists.

She wasn't special.

"Let me improvise a bit, Seb," she suggested, emphasizing the pilot's nickname.

Before he could utter a word, the girl was already formulating the question that had been eating away at her every time she saw the seductive side of the man in front of her.

"Everyone knows that you're quite the charmer. Why do you show this kind of character every time you have an interview, especially with people of the opposite sex?"

Vettel chuckled, somewhat surprised by the question even though he didn't want to admit it. If there was one thing he had liked about Y/N Y/L/N from the moment he met her it was how direct she was in each of the interviews he had had the pleasure of conducting with her.

"Are you seriously accusing me of being the greatest seducer Formula 1 has ever seen?" the pilot asked with a mischievous smirk. "What can I say: it's all because of the adrenaline of the races. I also quite enjoy female company, especially yours."

The woman exhaled, knowing it was one of his many tactics to charm women into bed, as she had heard from other colleagues.

"I'm just being myself, enjoying the moment, and speaking my mind, trying not to mess up too much because, as you may have noticed, I don't always come out on top," the blonde continued, now completely opening up to the woman.

"You have a natural charm that makes you very special. Now I understand why you have so many fans," the journalist clarified. "Sometimes it feels like a One Direction concert here!"

"Yeah, I've heard of them," Seb said casually. "But I think it's also because I enjoy the conversations many of them offer me, because they're very beautiful. But not more than you, by the way."

Sebastian Vettel was totally playing with her, but try as she might, she couldn't help but start to fall for his charms.

"Oh, wow... Thank you, Seb," Y/N whispered, blushing.

"I'm just saying the truth. I mean it."

The young woman was static, unsure whether to believe what the pilot was telling her at that moment. His eyes seemed sincere, and as her grandmother used to say: eyes never lie.

"Changing the subject, princess. What are your favorite flowers?"

"Tulips," the young woman blurted out without thinking, impressed by Sebastian's compliments. "If it's possible, yellow ones."

"Noted," the blonde replied, touching his temple with his index finger.

"But why are you asking me this...?"

However, Sebastian Vettel was already walking away from the girl accompanied by Britta, his PR. The last thing Y/N saw before turning around was Seb smiling at her as he waved with his left hand, and all the media astonished by the conversation they had witnessed between them.

It had been a few weeks, almost a month, since Y/N had her last interaction with Sebastian, and to say she missed him was an understatement. The summer break had allowed her to rest and, fortunately, disconnect from everything, although not as much as she would have liked.

Most importantly, despite her incredible memory, she didn't remember a part of the conversation she had with the German.

So, as soon as she returned to work at the Belgian Grand Prix and found a large and beautiful bouquet of tulips in her hotel room, along with a box of chocolates and an anonymous note, she was surprised. No one cared about her enough to behave in such a way.

The same thing happened the night before the qualifying session at Monza. When she opened her door to go to the buffet for dinner, her eyes lit up upon discovering a large bouquet of yellow tulips on the floor, arranged in a green vase. Next to them was a handwritten note that read, "For the most charming journalist. Enjoy these tulips and rest for tomorrow's race, you deserve it for all the hard work you're doing. With love, you're number 1 fan."

Curious and excited, she took, somewhat trembling hands due to nervousness, a small wrapped box hanging from the vase. Carefully, she began to open it, revealing a silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a Formula 1 steering wheel, something she was passionate about.

A few weeks later, the Friday before the Singapore Grand Prix, Y/N was busy finishing preparing some questions and other different dynamics from the usual ones for the meetings she had with the drivers, including Sebastian. As she finished and made her way from her hotel to the circuit to do her job, she saw something that puzzled her: a figure that looked quite familiar was standing in front of a flower stall, casually choosing a bouquet of tulips and communicating with the vendor as best he could.

She stopped dead in her tracks, surprised, though not as much as she had expected, to recognize Sebastian as the cause of all those details that had been reaching her since last August. Although she was aware that she was running late and might miss the opportunity to speak with some other drivers, she couldn't miss the chance to see how the German was preparing everything.

Sebastian, after some indecision, chose a bouquet of tulips, but this time they were white. After exchanging a few words with the shopkeeper and having paid and thanked him for his service, he left with a big smile on his face.

So it was Vettel all this time..., the girl thought to herself.

When she arrived at the paddock, she found the German driver sitting in a corner away from all the hustle and bustle writing a note. The look of concentration he showed while writing, with his tongue sticking out slightly, melted the journalist's heart.

Undoubtedly, if Seb was doing this, she didn't know what to think about it. Maybe she had judged him too quickly, and he wasn't as much of a womanizer as she initially thought he could be.

After a few minutes, eaten away by impatience, she decided to approach him. As Sebastian looked up and met her gaze, she couldn't hide her nerves.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," he greeted, blushing. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Looks like I caught, huh?" she questioned. "You seemed very focused preparing another one of your famous surprises."

Sebastian laughed nervously; he was definitely caught red-handed. He knew it would happen sooner or later, but he still didn't feel ready to face the girl he loved.

"It seems so. Surprise?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me it was you behind all of this?" the journalist scolded. "You have no idea the headaches I've had these past few months."

"Well..." the boy started, playing with his hands. "I wanted it to be a surprise, and maybe... I was also a bit afraid of how you would react to knowing it was me. I know you think I go from flower to flower, like a sailor, and I thought you might have a bit of a grudge against me for that," he confessed.

Y/N felt weird, because that was exactly what she had been thinking all this time about the driver with whom she had had to spend so much time in interviews, press conferences, and other events.

Once again, life was teaching her not to judge people by their appearances or the comments of others.

"Sebastian," Y/N began, "I loved receiving the surprises you had prepared, but you didn't need to hide behind anonymity. I would have preferred them if you had been more direct."

"Really?" Vettel replied, looking at her intently. "I didn't think you'd like me showing up at your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a box of chocolates, and singing you a song like some mariachis."

"In fact, I would have liked it a lot," she contradicted him. "It shows that you care about whatever you want to have with me and, above all, that you make efforts to make me feel special."

Was Y/N intimidating a three-time Formula 1 world champion?

"Then I think it's time for the surprises to stop being anonymous," Sebastian declared, doing his best to calm his anxiety. "Give me an opportunity and I'll show you how much you mean to me right now, and how important you can be in my life in the future."

[bubblebbg]

would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.

This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Miguel O'Hara x reader

To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.

Part 2

"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"

"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.

When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."

You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"

A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."

"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.

"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.

"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."

"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."

"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."

This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.

"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."

Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"

"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"

He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -

Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"

And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.

"What are you doing?"

You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.

"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."

He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.

This is how it's meant to be.

[justallihere]

Okay, I did some laundry, I've had lunch, I've breathed fresh air and taken some deep breaths (did not touch any grass because it's covered in snow), and we're back. My wrap up thoughts of Onyx Storm are below! Be warned it's chock full of spoilers, and these are all my honest opinions. I haven't even given this a rating yet because I don't really know what I want to rate it! Nothing's really in order so sorry about that. But I look forward to hearing everyone else's thoughts!

I loved that the importance of the bond between dragon and human was emphasized so heavily in this book. That Asher called Aimsir Lilith's first love, Violet telling Tairn he's the gift of her life, that even Halden knew that the true barrier to her would be the dragon bond - and especially that when Xaden channeled again, in a way that he knew would irreversibly damn him, he did it for Sgaeyl. To keep her safe, because she chose him before and above everyone else.

I adored the Riorgail of it all. They were open and honest with each other, saying I love you practically every other breath, declaring their loyalty and devotion to each other in front of anyone who would listen. I loved that we got them as a team, facing stuff together and trusting that what they couldn't the other could handle it.

On the other hand, it may just be me but they didn't quite feel like themselves. Maybe because it was the first time we've truly seen them be public about their feelings, but they didn't feel like the same Xaden and Violet from the previous two books. Xaden felt so intense that everything he said gave me anxiety, devoted to the point of obsession. I would actually call Violet morally gray here, but it came out of nowhere; there wasn't a great transition into that change in her character, none of the hesitation or guilt I'd expect.

In short, they kind of felt like my Xaden and Violet and not canon? I loved them, but I'm not sure it matches what we know of them from FW and IF and the change in character didn't feel entirely smooth.

But Xaden IS her sword!!!!

The worldbuilding was ridiculous. Violet was dropping facts left right and center like the details of the aristocracy and politics at play were common knowledge - and maybe they are in world, but if they're that obvious then I feel like those details should've been worked into earlier books. I felt like I was floundering trying to keep up with all the new names and titles and roles.

In the same vein, the lore about magic made no sense. So only the Continent has magic but why? Was it drained from other places? Does it only occur naturally in certain areas? Dragons don't have magic that exists within them - they also draw from the source which? Hello hypocrites much? That was another thing that was said so casually, but that should've been one of those things we learned in Fourth Wing, at Threshing or right after.

There was too much happening with the plot to the point that I lost it completely. The trips to the isles were overwhelming. I know the venin and the irids were tied together, but those two things competed so much that I kept forgetting about whichever one we weren't talking about. Literally just. . . forgot about the venin there for a bit in the middle. We were looking for a cure but we were looking for Andarna's kind but we were trying to stop the venin and we were also gathering allies and making trade deals and none of those points were fleshed out completely.

The ending was vague and confusing in a way that made me frustrated instead of interested or anticipatory. I read the last two chapters three times and I still don't know what the fuck was going on there. So the Sage is. . . Fen? Is Garrick the one who also turned? Bodhi? Brennan? Ridoc? Fuck if I know. I understand the point of the marriage, to give Violet control over Tyrrendor legally, but I'm also pissed at the way it happened.

I know we don't want anyone to actually die, but I literally didn't even flinch when Mira's throat got cut open because I figured she'd be fine. There were no important deaths. Trager and Quinn didn't hit that hard. Not putting any of the main characters in significant danger makes the stakes feel lower than they should.

The fan service made me roll my eyes. I get it to a certain extent, but there were several times when I legitimately kind of felt like RY had been in fandom spaces or someone on her team was just feeding her popular theories to include.

The marked ones having second signets was. . . not my favorite choice, because logistically it doesn't make much sense. We should statistically see at least one of them go mad from the power instead of developing a second signet. And I actually think if that had been included it would have been more interesting! I'd like to see the reality of the risks that were taken to make the rebellion happen, but instead they just got really really lucky a bunch of times?

The use of the word Riorgail in print sent me to the fucking moon. No.

Violet's second signet. . . I don't want to talk about it.

Actually no I do. Since when are signets based on situational need and not who a person is at their core? Was that not what we were told previously? Am I tripping? I don't mind the power itself but I am confused.

Professor Riorson had me on the ground laughing. What the hell was that. There are enough barriers to their relationship, and that one felt too forced (but great fodder for smutty fic).

The characters and their relationships are the standout of the book and the series. I already said I loved Xaden and Violet here, but I also loved their friendships and how real especially the relationship with Brennan and Mira and Violet felt. The humor and the quips and the squad's constant support of each other was wonderful.

I'm holding onto those Sloane and Dain crumbs like a teddy bear you all have no idea. I love them.

Aaric being the one with precognition I didn't see coming, but I surprisingly liked it! I loved him stepping more into his role as prince and seeing how cunning and smart he really is.

Halden was unnecessary but I live for possessive and jealous Xaden.

Overall I think the pacing was crammed and the worldbuilding left me with more questions than answers, but did I still like it? Yes! I don't think it's my favorite in the series but it still was an enjoyable read. I'll want to read it again at some point I think, but not immediately!

[jaetyun]

your biggest fan.

09. i'll rock that twinks shit

written chapter! (idk the word count)

as the last boxes get put into shotaro’s van, the uncomfortable bubble in your stomach began to build, and you couldn't quite place if it was excitement bubbles or dread. the manager turns to you, passing a clipboard to you. “i was gonna hire a couple extra hands, but now that i have you im not sure its necessary.” you nod in understanding, peaking down at what the documents on what you were handed said.

most of it was various venues and other locations for performances, storage, food, hotels, interviews, and oh my god the more you read the more your head hurt. shotaro watches attentively, noticing your dazed expression before he began tracing his finger to the spot he wanted you to see. “these are a list of people we wanted to contact about being openers, think you can handle it?”

you glance over the names, agreeing as to not cause a disturbance. it seemed quite daunting for you, but if you could take one thing off shotaros clearly overwhelmed plate you'll give it your best shot. “cool! once you knock that out..” your eyebrows begin to rise, only getting wider when he flips the page, showing even smaller print than before. just how much work did shotaro have without you here to help?

“lay off taro, don't overwhelm her” your brother interrupts with a cough

“yeah, at least *you're* getting paid” you felt two arms place themselves on each shoulder, your thankful expression getting a rosy hue when you see wonbin was the other one, though his usual uninviting scowl had you biting back your smile.

“yeah? we'll do either of you want to help instead since you're getting paid too?” he takes the clipboard from your hands, pointing it to the boys, who suddenly seem less than willing to help you out. eunseoks arm retracts, his annoying whistle signifying his leave. shotaro turns to wonbin, waving the clipboard as if it was enticing. not removing his arm from your shoulder, he rolls his eyes and turns the both of you to continue walking.

not only did he protect you, but now he's doing a blatant boyfriend ass pose with you?! what is wrong with this guy! if he didn't feel anything for you, why was your mind still reeling with affection?? you sighed, opening your mouth to chew him out, only to have the words leave your brain when he looks at you curiously.

“i still feel bad for him” you end up muttering, which though was true was absolutely not what was on your mind. wonbin snorts, looking forward as you continued to walk inside you and eunseoks house. “don't. he's just trying to pick on you cause you're empty handed” still attempting to push the heroism out of him, you were determined to pry until you get an answer you're satisfied with. “the oh so nonchalant wonbin is looking out for me? i'm flattered” you tease, allowing your beating heart to feel a surge as he laughs with you. “i'm looking out for any potential manager taro victim, seriously if you saw his paycheck you'd realize he gets paid *plenty* for the workload he gets”

you pout, shrugging his arm off your shoulder and facing him directly rather than walking side to side, both of you now planted right in the front and center of your house. “why can't you just admit you care about me and wanna look out for me?”

wonbin doesn't realize the seriousness laced in your tone, still answering as if you were both playing around. he rolls his eyes at you, hands going in their pockets. “please. you're already enough with eunseok getting most of the frontload, i do not need that going to your head. i mean, look at you right now!” he laughs, emphasizing your dramatics with his hands waving from your torso down to your feet, making you feel even more embarrassed than you already did at his words. you bit back your initial reaction, not allowing yourself to feel shocked knowing this should've been the response you expected. this sounds more like regular wonbin, not a nobleman whose willing to talk openly about his affection for you, not even in a little sister way. you don't even allow your face to change when he grins, patting your shoulder and walking in the direction behind you, most likely to your brother once you hear their secret handshake commence.

fuck. this.

he's allowed to embarrass you and make you feel like a fucking fool and gets to just.. walk away after?? he gets to go bro out with his band mates while you have to deal with the aftermath of him fake sticking up shotaro, the now annoyed manager most likely annoyed at your refusal for labor. god, just where is sohee when you need him?!

"hey, have you seen sohee anywhere?!" anton asks, pulling you away from your phone entirely. "i was just wondering the same thing" you gasp, though you knew you needed sohee for more serious reasons than whatever stupid bet he most likely got into with anton. he slowly nods at you, exasperated sigh as he combs his hands through his hair.

"i really need him right now. it's that snobby duo get a guitar. we wanted them to open for the first few stops are on the fence and won't say anything until they talk to the 'lead singer', something about being the most popular member or some bullshit like that." he rants, clipboard now falling into your vision. you chuckle, pointing at it absentmindedly. "shotaro got you on mini-manager duty too?"

he nods again, seemingly more lighthearted and now sharing your amusement. "i'm just the producer, so i honestly didn't need to join the tour since they're not releasing new music or anything. i'm tagging along to give shotaro a helping hand" he says with a proud smile, hands now on his hips. you clap for him, sarcastically giving him a moment of glory for his noble sacrifices. "i had that exact same list just about 10 minutes ago before eunseok told him not to overwork me since im not getting paid."

"where was eunseok to save me when i was getting this thrown on me?" anton tsks, leaving you to laugh at his dramatics. "he's just doing older brother duties, im happy to help out with both you and shotaro." you respond with a chuckle

"you can start with this. nothing big, just find sohee for me while i work down the list, once we get an answer let's meet up and figure it out from there"

while you were about to agree, already taking the clipboard, yujins words kept ringing through your head.

if there's an opportunity, don't look the other way.

maybe it was the fresh rejection from earlier, or maybe it was your own desire to feel useful, maybe even it was just your need to feel real, human attention on you.

but the word opportunity kept ringing over your head, until it became unbearable and you quickly took anton's phone from his other hand.

"why don't i just talk to them, see what i could do?"

--

previous - masterlist - next

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

taglist @jvngw0nlvr @tocupid @onlyhyunjin @molensworld @starwonb1n @yizhoutv @yipyipmorals @gyehyeonist @skibidihan @renjuneoo @soobiverse @fae-renjun @nujeskz @injunnie-lemon @miy-svz @binoyu @ricecakeslove @i03jae @meowbin @https-yeonjun @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @aloverga @potatosoulp1h @dimplewonie @taroddori @suzayaaa @brachioswrld @flaminghotyourmom @haowonbins @kyusqult @5ofclubs @pookiepiee18 @naviiy @wonychu @i1uvc4ke @soheendo @blooqz @mumeimei @nctrawberries @daegale @yoursyuno @ilymarkchan @whoisgwyn @gukuwii @hyunjinsnumberonefun @dusk-in-neo-city @dearestjake @endtostartbreathin @wonhui-world @starchasing-cryptid @intakstars @bebubli @romehan

[diodellet]

cw: still not feelin 100% with my writing but here's smth to celebrate valentine's day 🤧💕 unbeta'd and cheesy, established relationship fluff

"jamil, would you call yourself the sentimental type or the practical type?"

"why do you ask?" he doesn't look up from his homework.

you make a noise, something between lightly dismayed and exasperated. "…humor me for a bit, won't you?"

he sighs at your petulance. "you know that anything flashy is an automatic 'no.'"

"i know that already! these are the casual options, so are you feeling sentimental or practical?" you sidle up to him, knocking your shoulder against his. flipping the cover of his textbook shut for added measure.

he meets your expectant gaze. there's a very real temptation to play coy, to see what you'd do without his input. but in the last few seconds, you have - once again - managed to stir his heart with easy sincerity.

which was unforgivable, really.

unforgivable how you chipped away at his carefully-crafted nonchalance, how you could elicit that persistent sense of curiosity with the littlest of gestures, how your consideration for him - his position and all that baggage - only intensified the little surprises you brought him.

there's a dangerous temptation to leave it up to you, but that hypervigilant part of him absolutely refuses - in spite of your many good intentions - to have a surprise going sideways.

"if you're thinking of gifting flowers," jamil starts. "you'll have to do it before classes start for the day."

"i'm saving flowers for another special occasion, so stop dodging my question!" and now you were swiping his textbook before slipping away.

of course, he has to give chase.

all it takes is one graceful - dare i say, serpentine - lunge that sends you both sprawled out onto the floor of his dorm room. while pinned under his weight, your arms are vainly stretched away to keep him from reclaiming his stolen book. "i'm not giving it back until i have an answer!"

this only leaves you vulnerable to attack, his fingertips skirting up against your sides, eliciting a shriek that you try (and fail) to tamp down.

"fine. whatever gift ideas you have - " he makes sure to emphasize the plural in that, because if there's anything he's certain about, it is that you aren't rolling up to this valentines' day without at least one gag gift. " - i will only accept if they're discreet."

"okay! okay! i promise i won't embarrass you - mercy!" he lets up. the risk of accidentally getting bludgeoned by his own textbook is too big to ignore.

he doesn't need one of those grand show-stopping gestures. but there's nothing quite as warming as that sort of reminder, that you found him special.

(come the day of hearts, you pass him a small red pouch. there's a mess of ribbons inside all entangled around… a white tube? he undoes the overly-detailed bow and a laugh of disbelief bubbles up from him as he sees what it is.

a menthol inhaler.

there's a small gift tag attached to the ribbon with a note warning against hay fever. in tinier letters, he can almost make out the actual letter. it's a sappy thing that he finds himself rereading at the end of a tiring day, along with a small stack of notes and letters he stashes in a hidden compartment of his nightside table.

of course you'd find a way to make even a little joke sentimental.)

what he doesn't expect is the ten other little gifts you deliver to him throughout the day. but it's safe to say that this was a good start, right?

tagging: @viperwhispered @crystallizsch @twstgo

@sillystr1ngs @bakedgrape @mama-m1na

(lmk if you wanna join the taglist for jamil writing in the replies!)

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!