#but also hope ur days are chill today

[robyn-goodfellowe]

hi tumblr :)

[toastsnaffler]

so tired I'm seeing spiders... YAWN

[muppetebbtide]

trojan war tumblr simulator

🌊 is-the-sea-wine-dark-today

YOU BET IT IS

#the wine dark sea!!!!!!!!!!!! #wine dark sea #wine dark sea posting

108 notes

✌🏻 ajax2electricboogaloo follow

why is achilles the only demigod who's Like That? like he's my boy but u don't see memnon or aeneas or sarpedon acting like him on the reg. why is he so maladjusted? like specifically? I saw his mother once and was so terrified by the sight of a goddess I flung myself to the ground and hid my face in the dirt til she left but I still don't think that accounts for it idk

🏘️ nobody1020

it's blonde man syndrome hope this helps

340 notes

⚔️ sonoftydeus

opening my askbox so that we can discuss strategies on taking troy!

3 notes

anonymous asked: we should all go home :)

⚔️ sonoftydeus answered:

FUCK OFF AGAMEMNON I WANT REAL SUGGESTIONS

50 notes

nobody1020 asked: do u like..... horses

⚔️ sonoftydeus answered:

odysseus do I even wanna know where this is going

45 notes

⌛ isthetrojanwaroveryet?

year 9, day 234: still no....

#all our admins keep DYING

500 notes

‼️ trojan-confessions follow

I think my wife might be sending me anon hate :/ keep getting asks like 'hope u die on the battlefield tomorrow silly slag' and 'menelaus should have curbstomped you' and in her big tapestry of warriors she made me look stupid

🐴 horsetaminghector follow

lmaooo is this paris??

🔮 cryinglikecassandra follow

kinda think helen should send MORE anon hate idk

600 notes

❓ myrmidons-confessions

I was the one who wrote the achilles/agamemnon 100k slowburn enemies to lovers rpf and put it on the group chat but now patroclus is calling me 'agachilles boy' and laughing about it and asking if I can proofread his mock bardic epic where all his dogs are heroes and killing people, so I fear I've made a mistake. I also can't look achilles in the eye anymore... but honestly I've never seen proof he can read so I might be safe

❓ myrmidons-confessions

5000 notes

👑 kingofmycenae

👍🏻 ajaxthegreat

achilles is DEAD and ur posting CRAB RAVE?????

🏘️ nobody1020

I think that's why he's posting it ngl

300 notes

😹 deiphobus42069

imagine being the achaeans and your best warrior gets killed by PARIS, after everyone else had awesome deaths at the hands of sarpedon or hector or memnon... like that's literally so embarassing I just know achilles is fucking fuming down in hades rn. I bet the achaeans are gonna put around that paris was guided by apollo, or that paris happened to hit his only weak spot..... anything 2 try and make it less cringe.... lol lol we're popping the biggest bottles tonight. hope helen's there

🐆 leopardskiniscool

???????????????

#I mean. yeah. but also. #deiphobus wtf I thought we were chill

240 notes

#hope everyone can be normal about the outcome!!! :)

340 notes

🧑🏻 randotrojansoldier-deactivated-8578543

so excited to go back onto the field of battle tomorrow! sure hope I don't encounter any of the big-name heroes

🗣️ homer follow

I hope you don't too! I'm sure you'll do great!

🐎 antilochussss

not the direct address????

✌🏻 ajax2electricboogaloo

direct address got him :(

3000 notes

💂🏻 trojanguardtales follow

fuck my job so much I hope that this wooden horse tribute to the gods turns out to have some guys inside or something just so I can DO something rather than standing here like a twat with my spear

💂🏻 trojanguardtales follow

by ares this can't be happening

345 notes

⚔️ sonoftydeus reblogged menelauskingofsparta

do NOT order achilles from shein!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#oh yeah #I was stuck with temu achilles in the trojan horse for six hours #and by hour two agamemnon had suggested killing and eating him #and odysseus was threatening to 'send him to meet his father' #and it's not even like there's any kleos in killing priam!!! #anti neoptolemus #neoptolemus defenders dni #vent tags

100 notes

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] I AM SEEING IT ANDNIM SO ADKJRHHHCHSHHSHWKFJDJFHHSHRHRHRGGRGRGRGGGGRRRRARF ARD ARFATF ARD BARKBARKBAKRBAKRB ARF BARK BARK CHEWS ON MY HANDS EATING THE CEILING RN YOU DID SO GOOD ALY UEEEEEEE saur happy for ur efforts holds ur tired fingies waves our hands up and down that mustve hurt like crap to type that much im proud of yew ily kiss kiss!!! I WANNA SAY MORE BUT IM SO BRAINDEAD but also digginfg up my older written ideas for sum reason. yknow being frfr here i keep think thonking if theres ever that time i sent an ask to u i accidentally did not turn on anon. but i legit dk bc i send it fast bc its You and i wanna send it stat. like it u and u must See It BUT ANYWAY(83828484) if i did now am thinking thonking the day i will go awf anon but that scares me back to square one LMAOOOOO SORRY FOR THE SEGWAY MY OLD IDEAS DIGGING CAME FROM DC i store my.sht in dc and u are also from dc and i thought. maybe. also nvm hehe (unless)

just went and checked i have ONE ask in my askbox that is arthur winterscandy being super nice to me that i keep and cry about a little bit and every single other one is not only from you BUT. they are all anonymous i am 100% certain uve never sent me a non-anon ask dw <3333

IM ALSO BRAINDEAD DW work has been killing me a little bit and writing on top of it. well. brain So Fried in the best way possible tbh its :skull: but also SO so nice esp bc im not burning myself out just exhausting myself in a good way yknow ???

i am goign to b so real with u i have NO idea what you mean by dc and me being also from dc and the maybe nvm unless 😭😭😭 IM SO SORRY I RLY AM BRAINDEAD RN IT'S SO BAD

i keep rereading the first bit of this IM LAUGHING SM ILY SO FAWKING BAD AND THANK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU PLEADING FACE EMOJI x10000000000000 CRYING SHAKING SOBBING holds ur hands so closely as they r waved up and down.... its okay i type like. well. i type Really Fast and i am very accustomed to typing Really Fast so my fingers rly arent all that tired LMAO,,, my handwriting is absolute shit because my hands literally cannot write fast enough to keep up with my thought process and when i write physically hand HURTIES but when im TYPING words go brrrrrrrrrrrr its very satisfying very niceys

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

[halarealmadridd]

your touch

pairing. jude bellingham x reader genre. angst to fluff warnings. fighting, cursing request. Hii i love ur work, can you write something about jude and you getting into a really really big argument, it's about him letting other fans/or girls kiss his cheek or something for a photo and him doing nothing about it, And so you two dont talk for 2-3 days, and you guys live in the same house, he didnt even try to apologise and he thinks hes right, But after a week or smth he noticed he missed your touch and other things so he apologized by writing a big big letter for when you wake up, since he has practice early in the morning and you still sleep author’s note. this request is so good! thank you sm lovely i hope you enjoy 🩵

you had no problem with jude giving out hugs, handshakes or something along the lines of those, but kissing is where you drew the line. you couldn’t stand someone else kissing your man, and him doing nothing about it. unfortunately, that was the reality you had to face today.

chilling in your bed, you scrolled through tiktok, until you found a video with a fan kissing jude’s cheek for a picture. the worst thing happened when you checked the comments. they were full of people saying that they shared the same experience, jude kissing their cheek. you were already fuming, but the attitude of those girls was your last straw.

storming out of the room, you were met with a confused boyfriend stating at you with adorable puppy eyes. they almost make you give in, but you refused.

“jude, what the fuck is this” you angrily exclaimed, while shoving the phone in his face to make sure he sees the video.

“that’s just what they asked for, no feelings involved” jude explained, gobbling down a tube of cookie dough ice cream.

“no feelings involved? do you think i give a fuck about that? you let astral stranger kiss you?” you roared, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“baby calm down, this is nothing serious”

“nothing serious? we have talked about this earlier, i said i don’t want anyone kissing you in any form” you shouted, tears brimming your eyes.

the audacity jude had to just laugh at you and continue eating the ice cream made you furious.

you rushed to the bedroom, covering yourself in blankets, curling into a ball, sobbing your heart out. you thought that when jude heard you cry, he would come looking for you, but no, he stayed there, sitting on the couch, eating the last piece of his ice cream.

you ended up crying yourself to sleep. the next morning you woke up to an empty cold bed. you figured jude was sleeping on the couch.

the next few days went over with neither of you speaking to each other, because apparently in jude’s mind, he was in the right. jude could be a silly person sometimes, but this was just a whole different level of silliness that he had never shown yet.

finally jude came back to his senses and decided to write a full A4 page letter, apologising for his actions. he also placed a bouquet of flowers and candies beside it, in hopes to cheer you up. eventually he left for training, leaving you in the house alone.

when you woke up, you made a bee-line towards the kitchen to make breakfast, but instead of thinking about breakfast, big letter caught your eye.

tears rolled down your face while reading the letter due to the sincerity of it. you wiped your tears and waited for jude to come home.

after a good wait, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. you raced to the door, and jumped into jude’s arms. his face had a tint of confusion painted on it, but it later turned into a big grin.

“whoa, i missed you too” jude whispered into your hair, letting you down.

you placed a kiss onto jude’s lips, and guided him to the kitchen, where you had prepared some pancakes for him.

after gobbling down the pancakes, you and jude popped down onto the couch and started watching your favourite show. however, the show was long forgotten, as you guys ended up just cuddling each other to sleep.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~���

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

[hoshigray]

Hiii!! I rlly love your work & I appreciate you! Ty for ur writing <3 I was wondering if you could do something where reader convinces Toji to let her do his makeup and and and and she straddles him while he’s laying down to do it 🥺 maybe reader gets a little confident n bratty bc of the position n it gets a little spicy ? if you’re feeling up to it ! 🌲💕 this is my first ask so please lmk if my etiquette is off!

Oh, no worries, noonie! Your etiquette is okay, and your request is so cute like wth!!? :00 I worked on this after coming back from my trip, so apologies if this doesn't seem to be in my usual writing style. Also, to make this funny, I tried makeup for the first time while I was away!! Lol, so the experience really came around for this ask, so I appreciate it and hope you like what I jotted down! Other than that, hope you had a wonderful weekend ♡

Cw: Toji x reader - fluff mostly, but it gets suggestive at the end - grinding (m! receiving) - thigh riding (?) - impact play/spanking (2x) - pet names (baby, princess, pumpkin) - putting makeup on Toji <3 - reader and Toji being adorbs omg stop hehehe~ Wc: 1k

"How long is this shit supposed to be?"

"Sit still, will you? I can't work with you constantly moving."

"Tch, you're lucky I'm lettin' you do this because of a bet."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Open your eyes so I can see how it looks." Begrudgingly, Toji opens his eyelids to reveal the emerald eyes you're familiar with. "Okay, close them again."

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. You and your boyfriend hang out at your place to chill, spending time cuddled up on the couch and watching television. It was your usual weekend routine, being close o your boyfriend like this. However, today was different compared to the other relaxing days prior.

Here you are on your living room couch, straddling Toji's lap with your hands occupied by a palette of green and gold eyeshadow in one and a brush in the other. Reason why? About two days ago, Gojo and Toji got into an argument as they usually do, something about their favorite sports team going against each other. Your man then had the fantastic idea to bet on his team, saying he'll do whatever Gojo says if his team doesn't win.

Why was the idea fantastic? Frankly, it's no surprise to you and the snow-haired other that Toji cannot win a bet to save his life. So when the score showcased the apparent outcome of the older man's loss, Gojo took his win in playful pride. And the punishment? Well, mounting on top of him today should explain it.

"You know, you got a pretty nice eye shape. You're pulling this look off quite nicely." Dadding his closed eyelid with the brush, you paint lime green atop the dark green eyeshadow cascading around his eyes. You chose to do nothing too audacious for the man, as you're just taking pictures and sending them to Gojo afterward.

He scoffs at your comment. "You said that about twenty minutes ago with the other shit you put on me."

"Yeah, well, can't blame me for admiring my handsome man being so fetching. If I slapped a nice dress on you and headed to the club later, I'd bet you'd have a line of men and women trying to ask you out."

"You tryin' to say I'm hotter than you, pumpkin?" He lifts a brow and then snickers after you bonk him in the head with a white highlighter pen.

"Shut up and stay still so I can put this on." You use the pen to apply by the corner of his eyes. Now two white hearts are harbored close to the bridge of his nose. After asking him to open his eyes again, you maneuver around to ensure that both eyes are even. And you beam when you feel accomplished with what you've done. "Perfect! Alright, onto the next part."

"The liner thingy?"

"Yup!" He chortles at your enthusiasm while you grab the item from your makeup bag. Closing his eyes again, you work on the bottom of his lids to form a steady black wing that ventures out. You giggle; who knew doing makeup on your boyfriend would be so much fun? Maybe I should put him in a dress.

With a gleeful attitude and a merry hum, you swing your hips around as you work. But you halt when you feel Toji's hands come to your hips, and you stop moving.

"Hold on there, baby." Toji's hands rub your hips. "Movin' too fast."

It doesn't click you until you realize the position you're in. Your legs still slip apart to sit atop his lap, your bottom directly above his groin. And that's when an idea pops up in your head, unable to fight the grin sneaking up on your face.

Your hips move once more but in a slower motion this time. Toji opens the eye you're not working on to look at your face, but you don't acknowledge it and just continue applying the eyeliner.

"I know you heard me the first time." A silent giggle confirms his suspicions.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Close that eye up." He gives you a furrowed look, yet he does what you instructed, allowing you to examine your work before laying the black material on his other eye. And as your hips continue to apply pressure on his crotch, Toji groans at the motion.

"So you're just gonna act deaf on me, huh."

You bit your lip to conceal the giddiness in your smile. But then it's replaced with an abrupt shriek from your lips when a sudden smack of pain comes down on your ass. "Oww!! Hey, quit it!"

"Quit what?" Now it's his turn to act dumb, giving him a glare while Toji chuckles.

"Whatever. Let me finish this up." You grumble while laying the last strokes of your eyeliner, yet you still grind on Toji. And you can feel the tent of his sweatpants slowly protrude. After a few seconds, you close the eyeliner and put it into your bag. "Now for the final touch. Some cute lip gloss for you...Ahhhh!! Toji, stop it!"

"Then quit grindin' up on me, brat." he snarkily warns you, rubbing his hand on your ass after hitting it again.

"Why? Hate that I'm making you hot and bothered like this?" Your hips grind harder on his tent, and he exhales with scrunched brows. He scowls at you, lidded emerald eyes branding holes into yours. But you don't falter and resume acting tough. "Don't want me to give you attention for being so pretty?"

Before you get an answer, Toji grabs for your ass and shifts to stand up from the couch, and you scramble to warp your arms around his neck before you stumble off the older, muscular man. He walks out of the living room with your arms. And he throws you down to the bed of your room with a tiny 'oof' coming from you.

"You wanna give me some attention, huh?" Toji crawls up on the bed and kisses your lips while sliding a hand down in your leggings, fingers nestling and pushing onto your soaked panties. Your whimpers are taken by his mouth as he kisses your neck. The gloss on his lips leaves sticky marks where he places them. "How 'bout you sit there and look pretty fr' me, then?"

"Mmmph...At least, let me take a picture of your makeup," you say with eyes sewn shut. "Gotta send it to—Ahhmmm..."

"Later," Toji withdraws himself to take off his sweatpants. "In the meantime, lemme fuck the shit outta y'r cute and bratty ass, princess."

[princesssmars]

unexpected

an ellabs x black!streamer!reader

some times your viewers expect you're in a relationship, and one time you spell it out clearly for them.

wc : 1.860

contains : reader is feminine ! the picture is more lightskin but all shades can read <333 ltlvc reference

a/n : coming up with chat usernames is so hard what the fawk??? but yeah while i ignore trolls the ones under these tags were pissing me off so i wrote this for my fellow black girlies <333 i hope u enjoy :)

lets get one thing out of the way, you loved being a streamer. now that you had a good following of a few thousand regular watchers, you were more than financially stable, got to do something you enjoyed as a job, and even made a few new streaming friends.

but when it came to those friends, every content creator knew simple friendships could stir up drama. you had heard of many cases of friendships being strained or ruined because of this job. more specifically because of the fans.

which is why you took an oath to leave finer details like relationships out of your work. if you did tell a story about that time you and your friends nearly got kicked out of a local mall's journey's, you would keep descriptions of friends brief and blank, even resorting to calling people "friend number one, friend number two..."

luckily most of your fans were more than understanding that you wanted to keep some of your life private.

most of them.

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case one : the first p.o. box

it was another po box opening stream you decided to start early in the day, wanting to show and appreciate chat with the things they got for you.

lululemonsz : babe i hope its a new keyboard urs is on a iv drip !

wariolover96 : open it open the box OPEN IT

shelovedantee : damn is there a bomb in it hurry up

you laughed looking at all the people in chat begging you to open the current package in your hand.

"everybody chill out. look, im gonna open the first one now."

you quickly got a pair of scissors to cut off the packing tape on both ends, hurrying to pull the cardboard from its place.

the chat started speeding up when your mouth fell open in shock, slowly reaching in and pulling out the keyboard. it was sleek, mechanical, and your favorite color.

biiiigpoo : omg isnt that thing like $250?

lululemonsz : this as the first gift is CRAZY

ilovestardewmc1237 : one of your viewers is in love with you

you couldn't even respond, turning the keyboard over and back again to admire the details of it. out of the corner of your eye you spot a little yellow sticky note at the bottom, bringing it up to read it without letting the camera see. once you got to the end, your eyes widened and you quickly moved on to the next gifts.

but the light reflecting from your window and monitor was enough for chat to see a few letters on the note. after that, your fandom quickly began talking of a person named "A" who had not only the money to get you crazy expensive keyboards, but was also able to fluster you with a small note.

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case two : the search history.

every so often, your mods would host little events on your stream. these could include giveaways, shitty chat therapy, and little games for everyone to play. today it was a challenege : the more bits people donated, the crazier stuff you had to do for them. it was all pretty tame, and the end goal was one you didnt think you'd manage to hit.

never doubt the power of charisma and a pretty face, because after only three hours you manged to reach that two thousand dollar mark, and chat was raving at what you'd have to reveal next : your search history.

ariagatorr : damn this lowkey invasive 💀

devonchcgo22 : and we dont give a fuck

plantsnparsnip : right open that shit up

"i hate yall, do you know that? like genuinely." you groaned, slowly movied your mouse to open your chrome history.

there wasn't much for chat to bully you about thankfully, just some light teasing about how much you use pinterest and asking what it was you bought on etsy. and just when you thought you were done, someone had to open their big damn mouth.

pian0picass0 : wait a minute why did you open ellies stream THREE times ????

chat started moving faster as they read the comment, everyone asking you to open the stream and show them what was going on. sucking your teeth and denying them as you had shown them what they wanted!

after quickly wrapping up the stream and giving your thanks and goodbyes, a portion of viewers went on a manhunt for any ellie who was streaming at the moment.

once clicking on the stream, they found it was just a casual stream with ellie. she was obviously pretty, but was super laid-back in her jeans and converse as she strummed some songs on her guitar.

"oh hey, welcome to the stream i guess. any requests? i was gonna practice some radiohead because my friend asked for it."

pian0picass0 : hey ellie! do you know who (y/u) is by any chance?

"'sup casso. uhhhh no i dont think i do. did she send yall over here? maybe ill check her channel out."

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case three : the enhanced dm's

"everybody shut the fuck up and lets start this stupid thing."

this was it, one of your biggest streams of the year. and also the most fun. and most aggravating.

the gist was simple. you and 5 other streamers were thrown into a discord call and whoever lasted the longest through the sleep deprivation and challenges won a heap of cash.

what the hell was it with you getting screwed over by challenges?

it didn't seem that bad. the host, a close friend of yours, told you to share your screen so everyone could decide something to tweet from your twitter.

now, your friends in the call didn't notice what was on your screen when you shared it, and if they did they didn't say anything. but never doubt the perseverance of your crazy ass viewers, because one took the liberty to see exactly what you were saying in that split second they could see your dm's, because they swore they knew that profile picture...

abby : don't worry you'll do fine

abby : you're not gonna get embarrassed by any of the challenges

abby : i hope

y/n : seriously

abby : come onn you know i'm rooting for you &lt;3

y/n : aww thanks bee

abby : yup. for the whole event i'm gonna be your personal cheerleader ^3^

y/n : oooo you gonna put on a uniform for me?

abby : don't push it.

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case four : the voice chat slip up

at this point, there was no point in acting like you didn't know the two streamers.

the first was abby. mostly posted fitness, health, and lifestyle videos on youtube, but would occasionally go live on twitch to talk with her fans or stream herself working out at the gym.

(you may or may not have admitted live that you found her by watching a few of her workout streams. whoops.)

and then there was ellie, a gaming streamer who was known for being chill and quiet when playing music but as loud as a plane engine when playing cs:go. don't even get her started on cod.

but luckily you'd manage to convince her to play some games with you on your latest stream! some stardew, maybe some overcooked. even if she kept burning all of the damn food.

leave it to ellie williams to always surprise you, though.

when you hear the du-dum of the discord join noise, your face lights up and your mouth opens to greet ellie before she beats you to it.

"ok, babe, which game we playin first?"

to make a long story shot, your chat went ballistic and you gave a stern talking to the red head after the stream ended.

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case five : the instagram post

most of the time you leave most of your notifications off to avoid your phone sounding like a constant alarm. but you're guessing your recent endeavor of babysitting your cute but horrifically grabby nephew screwed you over, because before you know it the sound of dozens on instagram notifications are waking you up and pushing your bonnet from where it slipped down your eyes before unlocking your phone.

at first it seems like a normal picture abby posted, standing in front of a mirror in her living room , flexing her arm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat after an apparent workout session. ever the show off.

but when you zoomed into a blip of color in the background, your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see it.

its you and ellie, you sitting in her lap while she showed you some stupid meme on her phone she said reminded her of you.

the post was only thirty minutes old but already had a few thousand comments, the previes of 'OMG?????' and "no fucking way" giving you a hint to what people were thinking.

you turned off your phone, tossed it back on the nightstand and went back to sleep.

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case six : the joint stream

y/nsstan69 : not an unscheduled stream ??? is it judgement day ???

onlycuntz : "ft surprise guest" girl we aren't stupid

you had to hide the smile from appearing on your face as you read through the comments of your chat. you knew some of them were probably smart enough to know what was going on. the three of you hadn't really been discrete in the days following abby's slip up post, and viewers jumped at the chance to point you out in the background of some of her workout videos. and to point out how you were staring at her.

assholes.

so, here you sat in the comfort of your cute gaming chair ready to tell chat the big news with your special guest.

"so, i bet some of you are wondering why im streaming off schedule, but i had something big in my personal life that i wanted to tell you guys! in a few minutes my gest should be here..."

your voice trailed off as you kept your eye on chat, seeing a bunch of comments that you werent expecting from this big announcement.

motionpickers : lmaooooo are they serious

lululemonsz : she's gonna be so pissed

you begin to turn around in your chair when two pairs of lips press a kiss to each of your cheeks.

"you guys are so unserious."

"and you are so bad at hiding things." ellie pulls up and extra chair and rolls it up to yours so her knees touch yours. she tugs your hand into hers to sit on her lap, ignoring when you pinch her with your nails.

"ignore her. we could tell what you were doing and figured we should all do it together," abby is on your other side, resting her hip on the arm of your chair. "so, go ahead. it's pretty obvious already."

"wow, thanks for the support you guys."

"anytime, hun."

uhuhstasia : i literally cant tell whos luckier

niatargaryen : IS ANYBODY ELSE FREAKNG OUT

ilovestardewmc1237 : is it appropiate to say i called this

[ilys00ga]

hellooo, ur blog is such a comfort for me <3 ! can i request yoongi meeting reader who’s quite literally the same person as him. he could’ve met the reader through one of the members trying to hook them up. “you two are so alike it’s scary, i think you’d be a match made in heaven”. so yoongi agrees..eventually. but when he meets the reader, it’s horrible! their similar personalities clash in the worst way possible. it’s pretty funny to everyone, because they totally thought they were in matchmaker mode?? the two constantly talk about how they couldn’t stand each other, so it surprised everyone when yoongi just admitted that he’d and the reader had been dating for a few months after their first meeting. loll

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN.

pairing: yoongi x reader.

genre: fluff, i tried to make it funny loool, best friends to lovers, non idol au (?), non idol!yoongi, non idol!jimin, non idol!namjoon, jimin is the dramatic bestie and namjoon is just the very supportive friend that's happy to be there.

warnings: this is pure fiction and English is not my first language.

A/N: okay so, there was also this one ask I got from @parkjennykim that says: "Hiiii ❤️ hope this finds you well. Could you write a fluffy bsf to lovers with yoongi? Theres hardly any of those out there 😭 i need some fluff ive been too deprived and depressed".

I thought these two were similar so I decided to merge them, I hope that's ok for both of u :). thank u sm for sending these reqs, I really appreciate it and I hope u enjoy this read. do not hesitate to send more if u want to !

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I'm sorry, WHAT?!” Jimin, who’d been slouched on the couch with his head leaning against its rolled arm, sat up straight and goggle-eyed as soon as he heard what Yoongi had said.

The latter only rolled his eyes, not surprised one bit at his friend’s dramatic reaction. In fact, he expected it to be so much worse, but he guessed the younger one was just too tired that day for all of that. “don’t be loud.” he hissed and crossed his arms.

“hyung, are you serious?” Namjoon asked from where he was sitting with his chopsticks hanging in the air near his mouth as he too was stunned by the eldest’s statement.

“why the hell would i lie and say that me and __ have been dating for almost two months now?” Yoongi muttered through narrowed his eyes. "TWO MONTHS- woah, this is crazy. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” The youngest of the three covered his face with his hands and heaved a big, disappointed sigh.

“Seriously, why is he so annoying today?”

Namjoon chuckled as the older continued side eyeing their dongsaeng, “hyung, he’s just really happy for you. I too am.”

“I’m very happy, yes, but, hyung, how could you hide such a thing from me? I literally helped you grow the balls to ask her out.” Jimin whined and slouched back down on the couch with a growing pout, “I've been waiting for you two to get together for months.”

It's true, Jimin was a man on a mission ever since he’d noticed the insanely similar character traits when you and your (now) boyfriend met for the very first time. two individual human beings but the exact same patterns and edges. on a large scale, talking to you always felt like talking to Yoongi and vice versa.

It was like a game to him. It made him buzz with excitement, reminding himself every now and then to keep a close eye and count all the similarities you two shared. not that it was hard to notice to begin with: having almso the exact same taste (especially in music), always sitting silently when being around other people and speaking little amounts of words when necessary, getting flustered and smiling shyly when being complimented, being chill and too soft to scold or yell at anyone (most of the time), having that same slow tone in your voices whenever you talk, having random bursts of energy or playful teasing despite the cold facade both of you display, getting so talkative when it comes to topics and things you’re so passionate about, being very honest but never too rude or offensive about it, being the most hardworking people jimin has probably ever met in his entire life—something that nevers fails to admire about the two of you.

You and Yoongi were so similar, even your bad habits and red flags matched. When setting your mind on finishing a task—say a project for example—you’d wear your bodies out for the sake of completing it, even if it meant you’d stay up several hours late during the night. and when mad or during intense clashes and arguments, you would put thick walls between you and the other person, ignoring and shutting them out until you're human enough to confront them. sometimes it’s too hard to even apologize, instead, you’d slowly start approaching them as if nothing had happened at all.

“No wonder you two ended up together, you’re basically a match made in heaven.” Namjoon nodded his head as he munched on his food, as if approving of his own statement.

“i know! and the way you wasted your time pinning on each other was killing me.” being the biggest shipper of your pair, Jimin huffed as he spoke with a very serious tone.

“how did you guys even make it?” namjoon asked.

“We hit it off right after the first date.” Yoongi answered with a shrug, acting as nonchalant as ever.

“you mean the date i had set for you?” it was jimin who asked this time, and when Yoongi nodded in confirmation, the younger groaned and buried his face into the couch, “hyung, you are seriously the worst.”

“hyung, you both are coffee addicts, take her to a new café this time!” Jimin suggested with a huge grin on his face. after finding out that you two secretly liked each other, he spent weeks pressuring Yoongi to confess his feelings for you. He couldn’t believe that his hyung finally obliged after many “no”s and “I don’t like __ that way.”s and “we’re just friends.”s. it was getting really annoying.

YG: “Can we hang out tomorrow? as two people wanting to know each other.”

ME: “Are you asking me on a date?”

YG: “yeah?”

ME: “okay :)”

that was the conversation you had with him the day before he took you on a cute café date. The place was impressively good, but the date was the complete opposite of that. Nothing bad happened, yet sitting down with someone you’ve known for a good period of time and have shared good amounts of vulnerability with in that intimate context was too unpleasant. Both of you struggled to find comfort and normality in the heavy awkward silence that fell on the table. and everytime he would try to play it off and throw some joke or normal piece of conversation that he found appropriate for a date, you two ended up laughing int your sweaty palms because of how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“stop laughing!” Yoongi exclaimed while his shoulders shook, giggling.

“I'm sorry, I'm trying!” you wiped at the corners of your eyes.

"Just act like this is a normal hangout.." he had said after a short moment.

"We're literally on a date." you reminded him.

“right..”

The “date” didn’t last long, and the two of you ended up at his house. eating popcorn on his couch and watching your favorite series of movies together.

Later that night, he asked, “so, what are we?”

“whatever you want us to be.” you answered with flushed cheeks.

“I like you..” he whispered, eyes never leaving the TV screen acroos the couch, "more than friends should like one another."

“Great, ‘cause I'd be sad if you didn’t like me back.” you whispered back, never daring to glance his way even for a split of a second.

“Wait, does that mean I won the bet?” Namjoon suddenly spoke, making Jimin kick him lightly on the shoulder from where he was still lying with a sour frown, and toss a few dollars he had grabbed from his wallet at the smiling man's extended palm.

“Did you two seriously make a bet on my relationship?” came a sharp question from Yoongi.

[owlight]

My request: Law, zoro and smoker reacting to gender neutral reader putting a flower behind their ear to make their day happy

Thank you for requesting 🥺💖 this is so cute 🥹 ,sorry it's short my brain wanted to write a full fanfics for these nd I had to stop myself 🥹

Law & Zoro & smoker reaction to Thier s/o putting flower behind Thier ear to cheer them up

Smoker

You go to his office after you got a nice flower, you've witnessed his overworked ass looking hella tired and upset since the whole day and you decided to give him a flower to fix his vibes

He didn't pay you much attention when you got in, you've walked in 5884 time that day trying to cheer him up and his ass didn't notice at all

That's till you moved so close to him from out the blue and put the flower behind his ear like he is ur babygirl

He is speechless,he want to say something but words are caught up in his throat and before he can ask why did you did you put a flower on him like that ,you tell him it's because you wanted to cheer him since he looked down today

His face goes completely red at that ,his smoke is literally heart shaped as he looks away trying to play tough

"pffft! You didn't have to (y/n) ,I don't see why you would think I was in need of cheering ,let alone a flower,do I look like a youngster to you?" He tells you with a deep blush in his face ,you chuckle "you aren't that old ,beside the flower add to your charm for sure" you tell him with a smile ,he shake his head and can't help but smiles "you are foolish ,what should I do with you?" You chuckle at his response"take me to w date later maybe?" Smoker Face goes even more red ,God help him

He will remove the flower shortly after you put it and act all bothered):

Only because he is too flustered by what you did and doesn't want you to see how soft you have made him

He will keep the flower for sure! He will put it in a notebook and press it to preserve it, not that he will let you know that he kept it

He is very shy around you for the rest of that week , perhaps you should get him more flowers,might make him smile more ?

Also he did end up taking you out on a date btw

Zoro

You put the flower on him while he was asleep after a long day of begin grumpy

The moment you put it behind his ear ,his eye snap open and he is staring at you with a questioning look

" (y/n)...what are you doing...?" He asks,his voice a bit raspy from begin asleep,you clear your throat as you chuckles an answer out " just wanted to put a flower on you" you tell him rather very chill pretending like you're not embarrassed by begin caught red handed like this "eh why?" He asks as he yawn ,his hand reach to touch the flower " you looked upset today and flowers always cheers me up... thought I would just..ahm put one on you ....to cheer you up" you tell him with a rather embarrassed tone ,Zoro looks at you with a rather stoic face,his cheeks slightly heat up as he mumble something to himself "thank you" he tells you with a small voice

He pretend to look as cool as possible but HE is blushing and is flustered cuz wtf that's so cute????

He will not remove it,he will grab you and continues his nap with you in his arm

10/10 would let you put a flower crown on him And he will fight while having it on like no shame ,it's so wholesome he can't be mad about it

he will ignore the crew teasing when they tease him about it ,A flower didn't make him any less badass and The fact You smile whenever he let you put a flower on???

It makes it all Worth it

He is very sweet at heart and I will die on this hill

Law

He is emo so he won't let you

you picked a rather pretty flower 🌼 and you went to him while he was in his office

he was rather upset after having finely left the strawhats and was finely back with his crew he misses the strawhats secretly

You went in without much noise,he didn't really notice you walking in and He didn't notice when you walked to him and kissed his cheek putting the flower behind his ear with a smile "hope this cheer you up captain" you tell him with a gentle smile

He give you a half smile as he pat your cheek and goes back to bury himself in paperwork

He doesn't register what happened till few hours later

The door of your bedroom open slowly as law walks in ,he expect you to be awake but since his ass is a night owl,you were fast asleep by the time he came to his senses

What an unfortunate luck...

Perhaps it wasn't so unfortunate as law found himself sitting on the edge of your bed as he admire you "...thank you" he whispers as he put a rather different flower next to your pillow ,he kisses your cheek with a warm smile on his face

This man can't express to you how much It made him happy without making a fool of himself (at least that what he tell himself)

He for sure appreciate it and think you're too pure to be with him

He will keep the flower and preserve it ,he will do that to any flower you give him tbh ,he have a whole notebook filled with pressed flowers

He is a bit more in love with you ever since , Truly whenever you do these small gestures,he is sure he had made the right choice to be with you

[poraphia]

Halloooo ^^ ..

I read a lot of ur stories and now Im in love with fictions :3 (might need therapy cuz of it but nvm that)

U an amazing writer <3

(Im pretty new to Tumblr so extremely sorry if this ends up where it shouldnt be or smth like that lol)

But anywaaay , Can I pls request a Wilbur Soot angst fic :D ?

Im going thru THAT phase rn so anything would be awsome really ..

Maybe a fight (unintentionally) breaks out between Wilby and reader and Wilby accidentally raises his voice and reader gets scared ? I know its a cheesy story and people might'a written before but I barely find Wilbur angst fics anymore :(((

Anyway , Thank u so much .. U dont have to write any of this if ur uncomfortable .. Hope ur doing okay :> .. Take care n' bye :D

"You’re Being Too Loud."

➵ PAIRING! cc!stressed!wilbur x stressed!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.12.23 | 1444 words

➵ CONTAINING! angst to comfort, wilbur is ignoring reader, reader lowkey has attachment issues, reader sensitive to loud noises, wilbs is overworked

➵ SAYING! hiii @toastyliltoasts41 welcome to tumblr! sorry for the late late response but i hope you enjoy :) personally going thru this myself especially w so much work ive been doing recently and also im noise sensitive (literally walk around with noise canceling headphones all the time). thank u for all the nice words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I slipped off my shoes and placed them near the doorstep. My socks glided against the furnished planks as I slid to our shared office. I dragged my backpack behind me, feeling the weight of my laptop, notebooks, and textbooks. Once I made it to the room, I placed my bag on the chair and unpacked all my belongings onto my desk.

Today was too exhausting, and the one thing I dreaded doing right now was to open my laptop and be faced with more work. Instead of taking my laptop with me, I grabbed my phone and dragged myself out of the office and into the bedroom.

After changing into my loungewear, I snuggled myself into silk sheets, shivering a little from the cold fabric wrapping around my body. Ignoring the chill, I held up my phone with both of my hands and swiped open the messaging app to text my boyfriend. I glanced at the past messages, realizing that Wil hasn’t responded to any of my messages from this afternoon. The last time he texted was this morning when was telling me what time he would come home. Sighing, I typed in another message in hopes that this time he would respond.

“Hey, I’m home now. Too tired to cook food today. Let’s order something when you get home? <3”

I clicked send before clicking off my phone and placing it on the nightstand. My eyes fluttered close, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of footsteps clicking against the ground. With my hands I pushed my body up to examine the noise. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure headed toward the office. A small smile formed on my face as I carefully got out of bed.

My bare freet pressed against the cream colored carpet. I wandered around the hallway before finding the office door slightly ajar. Through the crack I saw Wil hunched over his computer. His sweater’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his fingers hastily clicked against his keyboard. Quietly, I approached him from behind, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

Wil quietly hummed in response. I titled my head, pecking his cheek, but he didn’t react and instead his eyes stayed glue to his screen. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but nonetheless, I continued hugging him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I mumbled in a croaky voice.

“Hey,” he replied blankly.

“Did you see my texts earlier today?”

“Uh huh,” He said absently. “I saw the message after I ate though. Sorry.”

I felt my chest tighten a little, hurting at his absence. All I wanted in the moment was a hug and a conversation about each other’s day, but instead, he was absorbed in his work and couldn’t even make the effort to look at me.

“Wil, can we talk?” I asked.

He slightly shook his head. “No, not right now, honey. This video has to be out by tomorrow and one of our editors hasn’t been feeling well so I took up the work.” He explained briefly.

“But you’re already busy working at the studio…” I mumbled.

“I know, but I can finish this up by tonight. Just give me some time, please.” He requested. My heart skipped a little, feeling like a dog that had been put aside for a brand new puppy.

“Wil, you haven’t talked to me all day. Could we at least just have dinner together?” I nearly pleaded.

“I already said I just ate, (y/n).” Wil said rather sternly. “Please can I just finish my work?”

“But I want to spend time with you.” I said, speaking up a little bit. I unwrapped my hands away from him and stepped back a little. He turned his chair a little to face me with one of his hands still on the keyboard. He looked up at me, a stressed but furrowed expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my own chest.

“I want to spend time with you but you’re basically prioritizing this work over me.” I said again. “I understand that sometimes you have too much work. I understand that. But we haven’t been spending time with each other for the past few days and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to relax with you, Wil.” I bit the insides of my cheek. Wil, in turn, sighed and rubbed his nosebridge.

“I’m not prioritizing work over you, (y/n), I’ve just been busy lately and this argument is just stressing me out even more.” His words were spat out like venom.

“Which is why I’m asking that we just spend time together! This isn’t just for me, but it’s for you too.” I threw my hands up, frustrated. “Wilbur, we can relax together! You’re acting like this isn’t stressing me out either!”

Wil got up from his seat now. His tall figure nearly towered over me, making me slightly cower. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING RELAX RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! I HAVE SHIT TO DO!”

I stepped back, nearly stumbling. Without realizing, tears were running down my burning hot cheeks. The air went cold and I felt this hallowing emptiness surrounding me. A ringing was bouncing in my eardrums and goosebumps ran through my arms and legs. He looked down at me, eyes wide as if he just realized what words escaped his lips. Before he could say a word, I walked out of the office and back into bed, slamming the door behind me.

I jumped into the mattress and buried my face deep under the sheets. I quietly sobbed into the fabric, not caring for the tears darkening the silk. It didn’t take but a couple minutes later to hear the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching the bed. I lied still under the covers as I felt the mattress dip from a newfound weight.

Wil sat there for a while. His knee shook a little, making a tiny thumping noise against the floor. I was turned away from him with his lower back lightly pressing against the heel of my foot.

“(y/n)..?” He softly called out for me. “Are you awake..?”

I shifted a little, moving my foot away from him to let him know I was listening. He sighed with his leg coming to a stop.

“(y/n), I’m sorry. I—I’ve just been really stressed, but that gives me no right to start yelling at you. And me being really busy has been taking away the time with you.” He paused a little bit, presumably licking his lips. I still didn’t have the courage to move. Instead I laid still, not daring to move. “I’m really sorry, (y/n).” He apologized again.

A deep sigh huffed from my nostrils before I sat up, letting the sheets cascade off my body. He turned his head to look at me, his feet still planted on the ground. I looked into his eyes, seeing the pained looked deep in those irises.

“Y-You know I don’t like loud noises.” I croaked out, my voice cracking with my words. He slowly nodded, bringing his legs up on the bed to fully face me. “And I really don’t like it when you yell. Please, I really just wanted to spend time together.”

“And we will spend time together.” He grabbed my hands and cradled them in his. “I’ll message Elodie right now if she could finish the work. But right now, it’s going to be me and you together, okay? We can maybe catch up on our show and I’ll order some food for you, okay?” He reassured, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. “Maybe I’ll steal some fries from you every once in a while.”

I giggled a little. “Noooo! Get your own food!” I whined, lightly pushing his shoulder. He chuckled in response before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso in response, breathing in his scent.

“I just missed you, Wil, you know that…” I softly whispered. He nodded, running his fingers through my hair.

“I missed you too. I promise I do.” He whispered back. His voice was low and deep but he made sure to maintain his volume. It was soothing, something I could fall asleep to,

and most importantly,

it wasn’t loud.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ hope you enjoyeddd notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! if you wanna be in a taglist or an anon my inbox is always freee :D ALSO SURPRISE!! TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY I AM ON A ROLLLL

[ouch-thats-harsh]

hii!! how r u?? i saw ur BNHA Class1-a w/ an indian reader and i honestly LOVED IT!! i was hoping to request for an indian reader with class 1-a but where they think she is really quiet and shy. HOWEVER, they witness her OTHER side when they see her vibing like crazy to bollywood songs??????????????? thnx<333 hv a good day/nightt!!! :)))

Pairings: none! Just friends and classmates :)

warnings: none! Gn! Reader. Indian reader, the reader is a bit shy

Author's note: Omg, hello!!! It's been a while since I disappeared for no reason😭 I'm sorry I didn't see your ask till now!! I'm so glad you loved the fic, it came from a need, honestly. Also I'm definitely more than rusty at this rn, so please forgive me if this sucks, I'm not the best at English, so i apologise for any mistakes.

A day doesn't pass without your headphones and music. The ghazals, the carnatic music, the hindustani tunes and Bollywood moods to wake your soul up. It was a need for you because more than anything, it was a piece of your home. Their foreign exchange student from India was a specimen worth knowing. Smart, brilliant, gorgeous but also quiet. You being quiet was something they expected, the language barrier guarenteed it! they dubbed your behaviour as that, but turns out thats just the way you were. It added to your charm.

One early Monday, after seemingly a shitty week, everyone had to get back on schedule. Exhausted students pulling themselves out of beds for another tiring week wasn't something new. UA makes it a death week, sometimes literally. Fatigue rolled in by the evening. After letting your friends know that you were ready to turn in for the night, you went straight to your dorm to rest. That was until you got a Google photos notif, from the last time you went to navratri.

Sero was just walking to his room, he was unbothered and chill. Then came your dorm room.

Before long your friends were outside your door

*Knock knock*

from the outside one could hear the faint sound of music and someone singing. They slowly opened the door, to see you, their adorable lovely quiet friend, eyes closed, with loud music, moving your hips to some Bollywood song? the song suited you, thought midoriya as soon as he saw you.

But then the shock came. You danced???

"DAMN GIRL!!" mina's loud outburst alerted you. You froze in place at the sudden yell, "how long have you guys been standing there???" You cried out, a bit embarrassed, maybe too embarrassed. You quickly turned the music off.

"Long enough to see you dance." Kirishima pointed out with a smirk. You felt your face warm. kaminari laughed at the sight of you flustered. Even though the situation was just the material to tease you with, they saw how much you enjoyed it, how carefree you were at that moment.

"What song was that? And you never told me you could move like *that*" mina asked pointing at you. "It's- uhm, it's called" you looked at your phone to get the title right, "tumhi ho bandu... And i- uh could always do that? Haha" the nervousness was evident, probably a result of you hiding this side of yours for so long.

This was a pleasant surprise to them. You looked more alive than they could remember.

Ochaco remembered the times you told her about baraat and gharba, times where you danced as if it was your last breathe of air. You told her about how your lungs would burn, sweat rolling off your head onto the earth. She saw what you meant today, even if it was fleeting. She wanted to join. She picked up your phone and played the next song. The beginning of nachde ne saare played. A memory for you, dancing with your bestfriend back home, unlocked.

You felt shy as the song began, but Ochaco and mina, ever the dancers, began moving, inviting you to do too. The guys were watching until pulled in by the duo, bakugou just stayed in his place, watching and nodding to the beat after a while. You could see some of them puzzled at the words but they swayed nonetheless. You remember this scene from somewhere. What was it? 2 years ago? Tenth farewell party... You remember something just like this, loud music, laughter, flaying arms and someone's horrible attempt at Bhangra. Flashes of old friends transitioned into your new ones, just as precious, loving and loved.

The hour was spent dancing, singing (gibberish more like), before long exhaustion hit all of you."We- *pants* should do this more often" a tired momo said. Satisfied with the whole thing. Some agreed immediately with her, smiling. You all talked a bit after that, letting yourselves relax. "You know, I'm glad i snooped enough to get to see this" sero said amused. "Yeah, i mean, for all we know you could've just hid those hips from us forever." Mina laughed. You chuckled a bit. "Thats called thumke" you told her, happy at the sight of all of them beside you. You went back to your quiet self.

"I do hope we'll get to see you like this more, it's nice to see you so fired up and not only on the battlefield" tooru said as she got up, the others added to her comment agreeing. After her the rest got up and decided to finally go to bed, they all hugged you or just showed their way of being affectionate, so did you.

Your room was silent now. You felt content, somehow at peace at the whole "incident" as they would come to call it from now on.You closed your eyes, the sounds from earlier echoed in your head, though loud, it put you to sleep.

End note: hey, uhm so this was smtg I cooked up after not writing for a long while, so please do leave suggestions on how to improve and yea, thanks for reading! :))

[deathbyathousandspiders]

hello!! ive been scrolling thru ur work and i am instantly obsessed. can i request a meet cute of peter? :( maybe they meet post nwh and she’s like wanda and she’s doing lessons w strange like america chavez 🥹 something like that :D thank u!

do u also happen to have a masterlist? i’d love to read more of ur work ure really amazing! ❤️‍🔥

you’re so sweet!! i just published my masterlist and pinned it :)

but here’s the link too !!

✨masterlist✨.

this is just a quick lil blurb :,) i hope you like it !!

800+.

The chill of winter rushed down your spine, causing a subtle shiver to follow along your goosebumps. You should’ve known that the old ass windows of the Sanctum would be drafty, but the view of New York covered in snow was somehow a sight you couldn’t pull your focus from. It was breathtaking.

Strange trusted you to house–sit the Sanctum Sanctorum while he and Wong went out to visit Kamar–Taj. It was a little day trip for them, so you didn’t mind the task. Besides, it was the least you could do to make it up to Dr. Strange for letting you stay there. You couldn’t exactly remember how you’d lost your family, but alas, it brought you here anyways. You were left lonesome, with powers you could barely summon on command.

He was training you on your telekinesis abilities, and giving you sanctuary from the blistering wind–chill outside. Watching the Sanctum for a few hours felt like a reasonable task for you to take on. You were more than capable of protecting it.

The sound of the doorbell stirred you from your people watching, immediately grounding you from your thoughts while you trekked down the steps. The doorbell rang again just before you got to the large door, opening it with a slight twinge of irritation. All your annoyance melted away when you realized who had disrupted the peaceful afternoon.

A boy, roughly your age, stood on the steps in front of you. He looked at you doe–eyed. Stunned. It seemed like you both anticipated a greeting from different people. His brown eyes pierced your soul, making a mental note to remind you that you had to see them again. His hands dug into the pockets of his winter coat, hesitant to break the silence.

“Is, uh- Is Dr. Strange here?” He asked, voice on the verge of breaking. It almost seemed like he was too scared to hear the answer.

Your head turned into the building, about to call out for the doctor before you realized how much of an idiot you were for forgetting. “Um, no. Sorry, he’s out today.” Your brows creased, feeling a little sympathetic. You weren’t sure why your powers were picking up his energy so adamantly, but his energy was something that drew you in. “Do you want me to deliver a message?”

It seemed like your words carried a weight that only he knew the gravity of. He suddenly seemed lighter. Hopeful. “I, umm.. No, that’s okay.” He turned on his heel, stepping down the steps again. “Thanks anyways–”

“Wait.” You cut him off. You couldn’t figure out why, but you didn’t want him to go. Part of you knew he was more significant than he was leading on. A part of him lived in the barren sanctum walls, and you knew it. “What’s your name?” A small smile touched your lips, “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

The boy froze dead in his tracks. It was almost like you’d said something wrong. Shit. Doe eyes turned into the stare of a deer in headlights. He didn’t seem to know what to do.

Your brows creased a little more, concernment sewn in the crevasse this time. “Are you okay?” He didn’t reply. He didn’t even move. You weren’t sure why he started malfunctioning, but you knew you had to do something.

“Maybe it’ll help if I tell you my name first?” Even you didn’t sound too sure, but this was better than nothing. You leaned into the doorframe more, trying to present yourself in less of an intimidating way. “I’m Y/N.”

You watched him mimicking the deep breath you took, easing into his posture. He gained some color back, and found his way back to his body. A nervous smile tickled the corners of his mouth with a breathy laugh, awkwardly glancing down at his boots.

“Sorry..” He spoke amid the anxious laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” His smile grew at the way your name fit with his voice. “I’m, uh.. Peter Parker.” It was like his name was some forbidden tongue. Getting it out seemed to lift the weight stuck on his shoulders though. “My name’s Peter Parker.”

Smiling back at him, you stood upright. “Well, Peter Parker, it’s nice to meet you too.” You sent a reassuring nod in his direction. “I’ll be sure to let the doctor know you stopped by.” Your brow arched at him, unable to shake the grin off your face. “Alright?”

Peter took steps away from the door, but kept his eyes on yours. “Thank you!” He beamed a little. It seemed to be the first light to hit the boy’s eyes in a while. “Happy holidays, Y/N.” He chimed, walking off into the street.

You hollered the same thing back in his direction before shutting the sanctum doors. You couldn’t quite dismiss the odd energy that your powers sensed from Peter, but it wasn’t a negative feeling. In fact, it was fascinating to you. And walking back to the drafty old window you’d been stuck at all day, you realized you wouldn’t be forgetting about Peter Parker anytime soon.

You hoped you’d be lucky enough to see him soon.

[haunted-headset]

hey friend! tis me back again hahah

this is gonna sound so random but anyways i was thinking.. reader coming home to hear wilbur shouting away in his room (he’s streaming for once LMAO) and deciding to just chill in the living room/bedroom for a bit. and then when wilbur’s finished and he surprised to see reader and he’s so happy to them and just aah :,) 🫶 and i had the idea of smth like a cozy night in with wilbur?? and i was wondering if u had any thoughts on that or if u wanted to write about it maybe! no pressure at all to do any of that tho <3

i hope ur having a nice dayyy! 💕

💗 You're Back! 💗

a/n: stopppppp this is so cute!! also why did my writing get really good during this

summary: read the ask

contains: excited Wilbur, tired reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pet names, kissing, & silly Haunty shenanigans overall

words: 702

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot @21-cats-in-a-trenchcoat @strangleetomz (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged)

At around 5pm, you finally got home after an exhausting day at work. You, of course, loved your job; it was your dream job, after all! Some days were more tiring than others.

You took your shoes off & put them near the door next to Wilbur's scuffed, untied Dr. Martens that had lost their shine years ago, unlike your darling boyfriend, who always seemed to have some sort of lively spark about him that nobody could quite have for themselves, which is rather peculiar, since he writes incredibly heart-wrenching songs nowadays. The shoes were massive compared to yours, almost like a clown's.

In the office, you heard shouting & laughter. You didn't think your boyfriend would be streaming, since he hadn't streamed since October, & he never mentioned any upcoming streams. Maybe he was treating the livestream like he treated Mammalian Sighing Reflex & did it unannounced to surprise people. Not wanting to interrupt him, you walked into the bedroom to take off your work clothes & change into sweatpants & Wilbur's brown hoodie that still had the smell of earthy, soothing cologne & petrichor lingering on the soft fabric. You checked yourself in the mirror. You looked okay, except for the fact that your eyes were drooping & you looked almost like you were going to collapse & fall asleep on the floor if you did any excessive movements. You yawned & stretched your arms above your head, hearing a few cracks & pops as you did such from not cracking anything all day. You then cracked your neck & knuckles, & both of them made loud pop & crack & crunch sounds. You finger-combed through your hair, tugging through the knots while wincing. You looked very dead. Abandoning the rule you made for yourself not to bother Wilbur during streams, you slowly opened the office door just a crack, making sure not to make any loud creaks.

"So, I think that'll be all today, chat!" Wilbur smiled. "Thank you all for coming. I'm so sorry I haven't been streaming as much, I've just got Lovejoy things to do. We're all very busy all the time. Here, let's have you all raid...Philza. Go raid him. Bye, chat!" He clicked the "Stop streaming" button on his PC & sighed. Since his spinny chair was still facing the PC setup, you were able to come around & hug him from behind.

"Hello," you mumbled sleepily. "I'm back."

"Angel! You're back!" Wilbur sprang up from his seat & picked you up & spun you around, causing you to laugh. When he stopped, he sat down on the chair with you in his lap. "How was work, love? Everything go okay at work?"

You shrugged. "It wasn't bad, per se, but it was just exasperating. Nobody was rude or crass to me, but I'm just really tired." Wilbur made a small "ah" sound & nodded.

"Do you want to go cuddle in bed & drink some tea?" Wilbur asked, playing with your fingers. "Do you want to do that? Or we could do something else."

"Tea & cuddles sound nice," you said. Wilbur nodded & picked you up & walked you to the kitchen. He still kept you in his arms while he made tea, softly asking you which tea flavor you preferred & which mug you wanted, or if you even wanted a mug or if you just wanted a glass. You two waited in the kitchen while the tea was being prepared, with Wilbur rocking you back & forth to a symphony only he could hear. When the whistling of the tea kettle echoed through the kitchen, he poured the two mugs of tea & handed you one as he grabbed the other & walked back to the bedroom. He cautiously placed you on the bed to make sure neither of you spilled the tea onto the soft white sheets. When he sat down on the bed, you immediately scooted over to him & cuddled up to him with his arm over your shoulders & your head buried in the crook of his neck. & you two just stayed like that for an uncountable amount of time.

Thank goodness you came back.

[atheliasnotebook]

Congratulations on the one year anniversary and 300 followers!!! ur blog is awesome 💕. I'd like to request prompt no.2 and kaeya with 🌶. Have a great day

Melting In His Hands

Kaeya Alberich x Gender Neutral Reader smut

This post contains sexual content. Viewer discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: ~3.2K

TAGS/WARNINGS: kinda domestic leadup, slight jealousy, little angsty, pet name: "babe/baby," reader's virginity loss, size kink, (maybe masochistic-ish reader?), pre-established relationship, masturbation while thinking about the reader, riding, pygophilia (bc kaeya is totally an ass guy), cumming inside

NOTE: if you happen to be vegan or vegetarian, please do not read the following (for the reader makes soup)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think I got super carried away with this one (also because I designed a banner)... yet, I'm so happy that you like my blog <3 and I hope you're satisfied with how I've interpreted your request <3 I attempted to make this realistic while still trying to make it romantic :> Tell me what you think!!!

You hear something creak open as you stand in the kitchen, all while you're pouring water into a pot full of browned meat. You rotate your head, watching the mahogany door leisurely squeak ajar and drag your eyes to the floor. You notice the decorated black boots with the signature gold diamond cross the frame and step onto the polished wooden floors, accompanied by the familiar sound of gentle swinging chainlinks clinking against one another.

You call out to Kaeya, your boyfriend—welcoming him back with a smile on your face as you close the pot with a metal lid. The air smells of garlic and the mouth-watering smell of meat, and you throw your thick oven mittens off to hear the man's sultry chuckle from just beyond the door.

"Well, it certainly smells good around here~" he chimes as he begins to take off his coat. "What are you making today, babe?"

"A warm and sour pork-vegetable soup with some rice~" you begin. "I recently got them from Childe, who actually visited while you were gone."

"Ohoho, so that's what was in the paper bag when he dropped the headquarters today... I actually recall him saying that it was a gift for a friend,' but I wouldn't have thought that it would have just been food."

You smile, nodding happily as you take Kaeya's coat just hanging off the tips of his fingers, slinking it onto a branch of the coat rack just in the entryway of your cozy abode.

"I'm really happy about it... tonight's dinner is a recipe that my parents had left me before I moved to Mondstadt and joined Albedo's team!" you remark, smile, and wink as you walk over to restack the awry-clothed cooking gloves.

Kaeya cracks a grin at you as he slips out of his boots and leaves them in the tile entryway, approaching the kitchen as he cracks his digits and joints and glides almost like a swan across the space. You feel him immediately wrap his arms around your waist from behind, along with pair of chapped lips pressing gently on your jawline. He's domestically adorable and cutely charming at the same time that you promptly turn around and slide your fingers through his conditioned locks, burying them in the roots of his hair. Regardless of your height, you raise yourself by standing on the balls of your feet and running your thumb across his lips, before slowly retracting your hand to cup his cheek and replacing the gesture with the sensation of your silky-soft lips. Both of you stayed like that for just about a third of a minute, floating on air

Kaeya sinks his head onto your shoulder, resting the tip of his jaw on your shoulder. He sighs of contentment and ponders on wandering thoughts with closed eyes. Perhaps this is what love is? Is it as though tenderness or affection secretes off of a person like an oozing saccharine type of honey? Or is it closer to being a chilling comfort in a swarm of heat, or the other way around? Kaeya wonders what it means. After all, being the notoriously-charming "Cavalry Captain" of Mondstadt certainly brings its reputation, and you are certainly not the first partner he's had. Yet, the way he flushes red at the very tips of his ears almost argues that he's new to romance. The manner in which he brushes his fingers through your hair while you two are talking about your day. The methods in which you two cuddle are intimate—with the two of you always facing each other and weaving your limbs around each other's bodies like meticulous and needled-to-perfection embroidery.

But it seems like there's a new scent that dangles on the edges of your clothing this time. What is it? It's... slightly floral, sweet, and just enough bitterly combined with your sweat to create a rather... intoxicating scent that attracts Kaeya like a bug to a flytrap. He's... not sure. Yet, little to his knowledge, you had bought some new candles and were mixing together some condiments and spices to test a new sauce that could go with braised pork.

"Pray... tell... is there a reason why you smell so good this evening?"

You turn to look at him confusedly (despite the fact that he rests himself on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist), and then proceed to look around the counter, searching for an inch of reason as to why your lover would prompt such a question.

"Well... I'm not sure, I know I was folding fresh laundry and aired out the blankets in the sunlight earlier this afternoon, and then after I set the bed—I started making dinner a couple of hours ago. Of course, I did get some special honey from the bag that Childe gave me, so—"

You feel a hot inhale on your clothes that breathe in you with just a smidge of desperation, and a chilly exhale that clamors with a fit of slight jealousy. While shivering at the gesticulation, Kaeya's arms tighten a little more, and his breathing hitches uncharacteristically for just a moment.

"Sorry... you talk about him so much, and I'm not... quite too sure why I feel so irked."

You ruminate on his expressions. After all, after a few months of dating, the relationship between you two feels a little stagnate. But... naturally, you come to the conclusion that he may be envious, even if the Captain himself doesn't realize it.

"I... need you..." he mutters to himself merely as a passing thought, completely forgetting that he's resting on you and following you around while you're putting things away.

"Need me for what, (preferred pet name here)?"

He lets go of you immediately, brushing himself off as he hides his face behind closed hands—praying that you don't catch a glance of his flustered expression.

"No need to worry about what I said... I was only talking to myself. I shall be in the bedroom if you need me, but I need some time to think. Alone," he says, nearly stuttering with his words as he deflects your question.

Rather strange, he's always... so straightforward with his intentions, even if his words are laced with glitter and gold. You watch as he swiftly walks off, fading into the darkness of the hallway like a fleeting shadow in the night. Kaeya vanishes with a pounding heart and a racing mind. How could he say that? How could he say such a thing to you? At this rate, he'll scare you away! No matter... he retreats behind the painted white door, shutting himself into the bedroom, where he catches the floral scent that lingered on the threads of your attire. Hurriedly, he unbuckles his belt and sets his sword sheaths and bindings gently on hanging wall hooks, letting his waist accessories simply drop to the ground. Leaning on the wall with his right arm, he looks down at the bulge growing bigger on his left side, sucking in a breath from how tight it feels in his skinny pants.

He groans, wrapping his hand behind him as he undoes his own corset with one hand—allowing it to loosen and drop down to the floor as he steps out of the black-stringed bodice. He can't stop thinking about how happy you were when you kept allowing Childe's name to escape your lips. Why talk about him so much? And Kaeya knows better than to be jealous of an acquaintance or friend or... whatever, of yours—but he can't help but just want more of you.

You are the longest partner he's ever had. The reason that lovers had left him in the past was that they couldn't handle the fact the Knights get busy from time to time.

And now that you're here, patient with him, more importantly—gentle with his heart, he's afraid to move as fast as he normally does.

He wants to bond with you. Although sex is a pleasure to relieve stress, he values and thinks of it as a way to bond. He thinks of it as a form of trust, watching one another in the barest of forms. Yet, Kaeya acknowledges himself better than to drag you into such... impure antics. He put aside his own desire, all so he can move at your pace.

But it eats away at him too.

He wants to know what it's like to truly pin you under his grasp, and kiss you in your most sensitive spots. Watching your squirm nervously... to watch you shudder, shiver, and moan at the way he touches—he's dying to view such a gorgeous sight. He wants your affection, but even more so than he does currently.

It's that he's just too afraid to ask.

But as he slips off his shirt, he brushes off his existential thoughts of desire mixed with self-loathing and overwhelming palms at his cock, thinking about you and how your clothes cling tightly to your skin. He doesn't care for your size. What matters to him? The fact that you're willing to embrace his imperfections just as much as he embraces yours. After stripping off everything but his pants, he lies in the middle of the bed with his body laid against the backmost board of the bedframe. He slips his hand beneath his briefs, letting the band gently slap against his skin before pulling down his black slacks just above his knees so that he can begin to embrace beauty.

"Embracing beauty," as in beginning to pump his hand up and down his hardened cock to the thought of you begging for him. Slumping into the mattress, he spits on his hand, letting the saliva drip down onto the tip and down his shaft. Hence why he trembles and spasms at the sudden temperature change in temperature, forcing more blood to rush down to the aroused appendage.

Unrecognizable in the haze of stimulation, you've been peeking through the slit of the door that you cracked open without him knowing.

He's kinda big...

Well, "kinda" is an understatement. You're sure as hell that if you were to put that thing inside you, it would (most likely) rip you in half, especially for a first time. But... what is it like to have sex?

He gasps, rapidly jacking himself off... muttering incoherent phrases as he runs his tongue over his lips to dampen them. "Haaaah... I love you... I love you... _______..."

You squeak, throwing your hand over your mouth to stifle your shocked babbles, but stumble through the door and collapse onto the floor. With a yelp, you try and redirect your gaze to the drawers beneath the mattress, rather than any direction pointing to Kaeya.

Attempting to lie, you frantically search for a reason as to why you're now in the room while the gentleman is only trying to please himself in the secrecy of your shared space.

"I'm sorry Kaeya, I just wanted to check on you—" you mutter, standing up wobbly.

Your gaze drifts to the pillow that Kaeya has placed over his crotch, and how his pants are slightly down. In a flustered fit, your boyfriend refuses to make eye contact with you. However, you see tears pricking at the edges of his lashes before he blinks quickly in succession and turns to you.

"Sorry that you've caught me in... this predicament, ______."

You reassure him, accepting whatever he's trying to be sorry for. Still, in your tightly clinging shirt and trousers, you climb onto the bed and crawl closer to him.

"I want to help you."

Like a lightbulb that's lit up, his eyes widen as he lifts his left palm to wipe the teardrops out of his eyes.

"I appreciate that... but are you doing this for me, or are you doing this for yourself?"

"Both."

You lean in to press a kiss against his now-moist lips while ignoring his previous reservations, and his lips waltz with passion as they dance with yours—bobbing in and out tenderly before they dive in to explore your oral cavity. His groans and your moans sing an orchestra of arousing verses, and before you know it, he's guiding you by your love handles with his calloused palms and placing you atop his thighs. Still making out with him, a smile curves on his lips, infectiously spreading to you as the both of you erupt in giggles and laughter, embracing one another as you scoot up his lap.

Fluid actions encapsulate the motions of your body. Kaeya nips at the skin on your shoulder, sucking into it as he runs his hands all over the sides of your body—eventually resulting in him trailing down to your nipples and giving them a gentle pinch with his thumb and pointer fingers.

"Is this your first time, babe?"

You nod nervously and spasm at the feeling of Kaeya's cold fingers circling around your hole. Whimpering at how thick it feels against your most sensitive parts, he only teases the rim, pressing the pads of his digits to stretch and tease the entrance so he can bond with you in a form most intimate for lovers like yourselves.

"It might hurt for just a second, okay?" Kaeya remarks, cupping your face with his left hand, looking to you for confirmation. And as you give a muffled "mhm," he teases his fingers and feels your natural lubrication suck his fingers in, plunging them in with some self-restraint.

"Ahah~ you're tight~ and I can feel you throbbing around me..." he chuckles, staring right into your lewd countenance. "You're really excited, aren't you?"

You've had passing thoughts of losing your virginity to your boyfriend. You too, have masturbated to the thought of him fucking you silly. And luckily, your fingering and self-fucking have helped deflower any previous and uncontrollable constrictions within your gummy walls. Nodding dazedly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability—your legs nearly giving out, making you feel as though you're about to collapse on top of him.

He kisses your cheek, slowly inching in to start making out with you again. "You're so good... I wonder how I managed to find someone as sweet as you~" he says, beginning to nibble on the top of your earlobe as takes out his fingers gently, watching you vibrate and whimper helplessly without his touch.

With the same hand he just used to prep you, he wraps that arm around your waist and pulls your body closer to him—your chests literally snug up against each other.

"I'm going to ask this one more time... are you sure that you want this?" he mumbles, creasing his eyes with careful concern.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins to create a blur of muddled thoughts, all to where you don't even skip a beat or even reconsider your choice of words.

"As long as it's with you, I'll do anything."

Kaeya squeezes your ass, digging his fingers deep into your flesh as he bites softly into your shoulder—which elicits a whimper or a moan out of you.

"I promise to be gentle. Just make sure to tell me if it hurts," he begins, using the entirety of his strength to lower you atop his hard-on.

Just feeling the tip feels... comfortable. Comforting. It slides in, but for Kaeya, it feels like you're practically sucking him in without any regard for control. Noticing your lack of discomfort, he decides to lower you more so. And just after another inch or two (maybe about three or four in), you begin to feel the stretch and the burn. It's only when you get one more in that it feels like everything is on fire, and that your lower half is splitting in two. Mewls of pain and pleasure escape your lips—you know that the pain won't be forever, and choose to bear through him. Your panted breathing evokes a minusculely fleeting moment of anxiety in him. Before he can answer, you just keep reassuring him—and sink yourself down on your own accord. The both of you gasp, with Kaeya trembling in pleasure from the suffocation of your sensitive flesh, while tears trickle down your cheeks from the masochistic tendency and natural reaction of your body.

A minute passes of pain-wreaking havoc blended with the tingling phenomenon, sniffly tears, and hushed reaffirmation mixed with kisses that gently rid of your tears.

"You feel amazing," he remarks, embracing you tightly as he breathes in the scent of the honey-blossoms and freshener. "I'm going to move now—just relax..."

You yelp in a choked voice, feeling his balls press up against you while the entire length bottoms out inside of you. Slowly, he bucks his hips upwards into your groin as he throws his head back, brushing the bangs and locks obstructing his vision of you (who he considers his "whole world"). You catch a whiff of his cool, yet minty breath, all due to the natural composition that his body receives from his Cryo vision. Pressing your thighs together out of instinctual reaction, you close him in, accepting a slightly-more powerful thrust that's got you convulsing.

"If you keep squeezing around me like that, baby—" he utters, bouncing you up with a swift motion with a loud smack of your bodies against one another. "—I won't be able to hold myself back."

You're helpless when he mutters such a promise. With a drawn-out growl escaping Kaeya's lips, you can feel his pace quicken as you embrace him from both ends of your body—unable to ignore the knotting-like intricacies weaving in your belly at the speed of light, feeling as though the feeling will snap in half the longer he keeps up at this.

Naturally, Kaeya believes that you are his other half. While he is chilly and ice-cold at times (not just in his body, but his demeanor), you happen to be a flickering fire that lights up the whole room. Despite him taking the lead, he feels as though he's the one melting in your hands, ready to give the rest of himself to you as if he has nothing else.

He keeps pounding more, and more, and more, until neither of you can keep the feeling. You keep muttering and moaning in his ear about how you're about to finish, and he nods through hitched breaths, sharing the same unified sentiments. Cursing through his teeth, you feel his cock twitch as the pouring of a hot liquid fills your insides, practically boiling you as you cum and violently shake around him.

Collapsing around one another, he slides down the backboard stained with sweat to lay flat on the soaked and sticky bedsheets. You lay on top of him, still seizing from the pleasure from however long you lasted. After all, Kaeya makes sure he matches your pace, regardless of the speed. Subsequently followed by some deep breaths from the both of you, he chuckles, still keeping himself inside as he peppers kitten kisses on your forehead while ignoring your dozy exhaustion.

"Huff... I love you so much, babe."

Interested in my 1-year anniversary event? head to the event landing page to learn more and feel free to request!