#but the guy is him. hes always been him. its always been him.

[reignpage]

The Other Woman

Pt 1

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true. 

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting. 

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers. 

You keep reminding yourself of that. 

Satoru needs this. 

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by. 

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do. 

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for. 

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here. 

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm. 

You’re the wife. 

You’ve got the ring to prove it. 

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other. 

There’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t interrupt. 

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet. 

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end. 

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back. 

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell. 

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside. 

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him. 

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul. 

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back. 

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry. 

You’re just the woman he did. 

[romanarose]

My Wife, My Wife, My Wife.

Protective!Logan Howlett x f!reader

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Summary: You're pregnant and take your new husband, Logan, to Thanksgiving with your family. Logan isn't too happy with how you are treated.

Warnings: Toxic families, comments on eating and weight, pregnancy, Roman's daddy and mommy issues.

Dividers by @sister-lucifer

"Dinners ready!" Your moms voice calls out from the kitchen. You'd spent much of the day helping her get the food ready, but needed rest away from the heat. Your pregnancy had made you sensitive to the heat, and Logan always made sure you rested plenty.

Logan takes your arm, helping you off the couch and to the table with strong but gentle guidance. He's always gentle with you, but especially so now that your pregnancy has reached month 8 it was even more so.

Your dad took his seat at the head of the table, the rest of the family filing around the seating, filling up both the adult and kids table to it's max.

"Ladies, why don't we let you guys go ahead and get the mens food first, then we can get the kids." Mom instructs, and the adults and cousins and your sister get up to get their mens meals. You lock eyes with Logan as you start to get up, rolling them with him as he smiles. You did not mind serving Logan, in fact you enjoyed doing things like that for him. Logan was a good husband, he took care of you and you liked to take care of him. But it was the fact your mom expected you to, and that it was the men that always got food first at the table. That's not how it worked in yours and Logans home.

Logan doesn't let you get up, placing a firm hand on your thigh as you smirk up at him. This was going to annoy your mom. "I got it, baby."

Your mom, as predicted, turned to Logan with that clipped but cheerful tone she uses when there is company. "Oh don't worry Logan, she can get it."

"It's alright ma'am" Logan smiles thats disarming smile. He's so handsome, when he smiles its hard to argue. "My wife is pregnant, I think I can handle getting our plates."

Logan gets you first, asking you a few questions here and there 'you want a lot of mac and cheese?' but mostly knowing what you like. You sit in your seat simply glowing as the women in line glance enviously towards you. Their husbands would never. They get plates for their men, then their children, then themselves.

When the table goes around saying what they are thankful for, Logan proudly says, "my wife, and our son" and plants a kiss on your cheek. You feel a little embarrassed you went before him and said modern medicine, but your pregnancy hadn't exactly been easy, so you had your reasons.

When it was time for desert, you asked Logan to get you whipped cream on your cherry pie, which of course your mother had something to say about.

"I don't think that's a good idea, honey." she says quietly next to you.

You glare at your mom, shoveling a large scoop of pie into your mouth. "I'm growing a baby, mom."

"Oh, and the whipped cream provides much needed nutrition?"

Logan leans over, spraying a massive amount of whipped cream onto the pie, spilling over onto the plate.

"If my wife wants whipped cream, whipped cream she'll get."

You make sure to hum in contentment as your mom eats a small slice of pumpkin. No whipped cream.

Your dad, of course, had ignored you most of the day. Ever since you got with Logan, he couldn't act the way he usually did with you, making him one of your dads uhhhhhh less liked people. He couldn't cross your no hugging boundary anymore, Logan always standing protectively close and his arm around you when you said hello's and goodbyes. He couldn't make subtle digs about your hair or tattoos anymore. You never even had a chance to argue anymore, Logan took care of it.

Still, as the evening went on and the alcohol poured (for everyone but you.) he started speaking more freely.

"I bet you're relieved to be having a son, aren't you Logan?"

Your body immediately tensed, and Logan didn't fail to notice. "I don't know what you mean. I'm happy to be having a baby, the sex doesn't really matter."

"I just mean," His mouth is full of chex mix. "You know how women are. Having a daughter can be a lot. They are so dramatic, and god, when they are teenagers-"

"May I remind you you're speaking about my wife when you talk about your daughter?"

Your dads face settle into a hard line. "You know, this whole 'my wife' bit is getting old. You've been married over a year, I think you can act like a normal couple now."

You scoff. "Act like what? make a bunch of jokes about how we hate each other? Surprise, dad, if I didn't like him I wouldn't be married to him."

"See what I mean?" He laughs, ignoring you and turning to Logan. "Women, always putting words in your mouth, pretending you said things you didn't. Just be happy you're having a boy."

Logan squeezed your hand. "I'm happy I'm having a boy because I'm happy we're starting a family. Respectfully, I'd appreciate if you stopped talking about my wife like she's some kind of burden, because she's not."

He laughs again. "C'mon, you're telling me you like it when she she cries at every little thing, or when she gets pissed off for leaving the toilet seat up? It doesn't drive you crazy that she can't wake up early enough to make breakfast? You like when she dresses like a-"

"That's enough!" Logan stands abruptly, and your eyes go wide, hoping he doesn't go too far... but when it comes to you, he's fiercely protective. "I don't mind her crying because it tells me she feels safe enough to show her emotions. She doesn't get mad at me for leaving the toilet seat up because I simply don't do it. She doesn't have to wake up and make me breakfast because this isn't fucking 1955, and I swear to god if you make one more comment about her appearance i will-"

He stops as soon as he feels your hand on his back.

Logan wraps his arm around your waste, guiding you towards the door. "C'mon baby, lets go home." He helps you put on your shoes, kneeling down at your feet without shame to help you slide them on. Before he leaves, Logan turns to face your dad again, unsheathing his claws "Do not ever disrespect my wife again, do you understand?"

Your dad gulped, and nodded.

When you and Logan get outside and close the door, you both burst into laughter.

"Lo!" You exclaim, Logan holding onto you so you don't slip on the snow. "That was a bit excessive, don't you think?" but you were giggling still.

"Nothings too much for my wife." He kissed your cheek, grinning, before opening the car door. When he slides in his side, he finds you smiling fondly at him.

"You know, I used to dread family events. Now i don't have to worry about a thing."

"And you never will. You and our son are never gonna have to worry about anything, okay? Not with me around. And that includes your annoying ass dad."

Once again, the two of you cackle with laughter as he drives off towards home.

happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!!!

I opted to NOT go home for the holidays THANKS 1. my family is a mess 2/ they are 2 hours away 3. I AM STILL FUCKING SICK!!!! i have bronchitis not and its awful. I woke up coughing so hard i vomited. good times.

I went to my friends place though! I love her family. then after lunch i was tired and sick and laid down in the spare bedroom for an hour. then i tried to get though dessert and some games but i had a coughing fit and just had to leave :((( but my friend sent me home with homemade soup and bread!

anyway, if your family makes you feel like shit, fuck em! not literally.

i'm going to bed now. After looking it all up, the best thing i can do to help is drink tea with honey, lots of water, and sleep so thats what im doing

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 7.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 1.2k

—chapter content/warnings: not much here!!, cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, subtle flirting (in san's and oc's terms lmfao)

—a/n: hi! just a friendly lil reminder that these half chapters are random scenes/bits that couldn't really fit into a chapter or stand-alone as one. they're mostly in the past and will not always follow the exact timeline of the previous or upcoming chapter!

San booked off most of his day to help Christopher with this symposium. Well, actually, most of the group has [minus a select few others] in order to make room for the quick tech rehearsal and run through before its official start time in the next half hour or so. The staff is now bringing in the fruit, cheese and other pastries, along with coffee, tea and juice— setting them outside of the conference room on a long table. The symposium is supposed to be 5 hours, being that everyone keeps to their 20-min presentation + 10-min Q&A times. San is off to the side speaking with Jongho and Chris, while Mingi and Zara are fiddling with the AV system to test their own presentations for the final time. Even though this is the one time most of their schedules worked, Yeosang had to skip out due to heading overseas for a conference. As San sips on his coffee, Yunho and Iseul walk in alongside of Namjoon. Per usual, he keeps greetings to a bare minimum:

AKA, a very subtle smile and nod to both. One that Yunho reciprocates, one that Iseul doesn't like to acknowledge.

But, whatever.

"Did you guys tell your labs about this?" Chris nervously wipes his hands on his dress pants, nervous about how his first symposium is gonna turn out.

"Dude." Jongho laughs and pokes fun at him. "Relax."

"I bragged about it way too much, I don't even know if people wanna come anymore." San teases, making Chris shake him by the shoulders. "Relax! They'll come!"

"What if no one shows up? We'll be giving presentations to each other—" Chris laughs, but a few people start trickling into the conference room; providing him with a sense of relief. "Oh, thank god." The three start giving small nods to the students and other faculty dipping in, greeting them just as they set their things down and grab some food.

"Can't believe you actually thought people wouldn't come. Think you might need extra chairs." San points out as more people flood in.

"Shit, I did it." Chris beams from ear to ear, shifting his attention to two more familiar faces. "Oh! Hey Y/N, Jiung!" He says as the two of you walk towards their group, giving them very curt bows.

"Hi." You smile at all, especially San. He bites onto his straw, trying his hardest to hold back his smile.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course! Got a good lineup, excited to hear all the presentations!" Jiung tugs on his backpack straps.

"In that case, send me a full report on it tomorrow." Jongho jokes, making Jiung playfully roll his eyes.

"Do you see how he treats me?" Chris and Jongho laugh.

"Nah, he's been talking a lot about the work you've been doing and how you're probably the best person to help get the rig together for our optical electrophysiology project."

"Aw, really?" Jiung looks at Jongho. "You mean it?" Jiung has stars in his eyes and Jongho can't help but deny the allegations. He has said it time and time again; Jiung is definitely doing great work and Jongho doesn't want him to go anywhere. If he could keep him for good, he would. He hopes he can.

He'd just never say it out loud cause he's like that.

"Hey now." He shakes his head. "I never said anything, I don't know what he's talking about." 

"We have a few minutes actually, let's talk about that real quick and follow up in another meeting later on." Chris looks at you. "Sorry to have to pull him away from you, Y/N. Professor Choi #2 can keep you company?"

"All good." 

"Be back." Jiung looks at you. "I'll save us those chairs." He points towards two end spots near the middle section. You awkwardly watch as Chris, Jongho and Jiung approach another professor to talk about said project, leaving you with San. 

"Hi." He says shyly. You've never seen him this way, and he's too fucking cute, too fucking charming. It makes you replay the dinner events in your head, only pushing your curiosity of what he'd be like if you two were completely alone. 

"Hi. Is that your nervous face poking out? Are you nervous?" You tease a bit.

"Me?" He playfully scoffs. "No. Dinner was more nerve-racking than this."

"What, why?" You giggle.

"Because it's you. I have to be extra careful with you, remember?"

"Right." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his figure; he's dressed nicely in a white button up, tie and grey vest. They're all dressed nicely for the occasion, but it's definitely an extra weakness for you seeing San like this. 

"You're cute." He mutters as he bites his straw again and takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes looking around the room to make his flirting not so obvious. And it isn't, except Yunho has been watching from the side while he waits for Iseul to finish up working through some presentation issues with IT. He didn't mean to, but his eyes gradually glazed over to the two of you smiling and laughing.

He can't help it, but the interaction feels different. The only time he's ever seen San that shy and flustered is when he was courting Iseul. It almost feels like he's watching something unfold all over again. 

"All good!" Iseul says, knitting her brows together when Yunho seems to be preoccupied. "You okay?" She asks, Yunho finally returning his attention to her.

"Yeah, sorry. Was just people-watching." Iseul looks over, eyes also falling on San but she doesn't necessarily get a chance to think much about it before Yunho is chiming in again. "Let's go grab some food before it starts." He laces his hand with hers and leads her to the end, front row seats.

Meanwhile, you've been too busy keeping your attention on San to care about everyone else. You're so tempted to nudge him, be a little affectionate with him. And it's taking everything in you to remind yourself who you are and where you are at.

"Stop it."

"Glad you actually made it, though."

"I told you I'd come."

"And I'm glad it wasn't just something you said to brush me off in the hallway." You laugh.

"No, never." Jiung wraps up his talk with the other professors, his eyes meeting yours with a small nod towards the seats he sat his bag down at. "Well, guess they're done. I'll see you later? Goodluck on your talk, Professor Choi." He smiles toothlessly at you.

"Thank you, Y/N." He watches as you walk off and meet Jiung, plopping down onto the seat as he debriefs you on his impromptu meeting. 

"Hm." Jongho hums and clears his throat, slowly walking over to his bestfriend while sipping his coffee.

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Jongho squints his eyes at him, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Productive conversations going around, I see."

"Mhm." San chuckles, knowing exactly what Jongho's hinting at.

"Hey!" Zara comes over with a bright smile on her face. "We saved you some seats." She points at the front row on the left side, waving them over. "Come." 

"Sweet, thanks." Jongho leads the way while Zara tucks her hair behind her ear and walks alongside of San.

"Ready?" San shrugs as he looks at her.

"As can be."

"I'm sure it'll be great like always." He smiles.

"Thanks." He lets her slip into the seat next to Jongho before sliding into the end seat, eyes quickly glancing over at you before he gets situated and switches modes for the symposium.

Though, you are incredibly distracting, and he can only hope he can get you alone sometime soon just to show you exactly how he feels.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny

[junedenim]

to say good night

sleep can happen anywhere

warnings: fluff, smut, blowie, piv, and raspberries

word count: 3.6k

You watched him make the bed. He was always slow and careful with this kind of thing. It was rhythmic, second nature to tuck the duvet under the mattress and fluff the pillows just right. It was weird for a man to be so careful after sex. The sheets had been a mess covered in each of you. He still spills out of you now, trapped by your underwear. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself but got trapped in the doorway watching this meticulous routine as he changed the navy blue sheets to baby blue ones. You wonder if he has any different coloured sheets or if they are all blue.

He's fixing the nightstand now. His alarm clock that your hand pushed off when he was going down on you. His spine curves, little rivets showing through the skin of his bare back. You get to drag your hand down it tonight when you lie side by side and go to bed with one another. Not just fucking bed but sleeping bed.

And he's so lovely. You're not sure you've ever seen something, especially a man so lovely as he sits down on the bed to fix the time on the clock. His eyes shine back at the glaring red digits. Your hand curls around the doorframe, trying not to give yourself away to him. He's so cautious when he knows he's being watched, but here, he's loose, uncaring, and serene, so serene.

His hair is a fluff mess. One that swirls and makes cascading waterfalls as it tries to fall forward on his face. He slightly jumps at the beeping noise the clock makes and a giggle escapes you, impossible to hold back at his cute, jolting, meticulous, lovely, serene self. No hand covering your mouth hides the giggle. His eyes snap up with the fear he's been caught out like you've accidentally caught him masturbating in his childhood bedroom, not fully grown fixing his alarm clock.

But then he releases, not everything, but just enough to lightly chuckle. "You snooping on me?"

Part of you wants to shrink behind the bathroom door and hide but his laughter is solaceful. "I'm just going to the bathroom," you say as you slowly shut the door.

He laughs, this time more boisterous. It's easy for him to let go when he's making fun of you. "Uh-huh, yeah, right."

"I swear!" You yell back through the closed door as you drop your panties and wipe him out of you (disgusting but not and that almost disgusts you more about how you can be so affected by a person that you start to cherish their semen) and dispose of it. Your cheeks are flushed red in the mirror and you splash water to temper the fire burning its way out.

Exiting the bathroom, he stands by the dresser having covered that gracious bare back with a T-shirt. It makes you want to yell at him for the crime he's committed. It was horrible that he covered his butt with his boxers but this. "Why'd you put a shirt on?"

Alex once again jumps at a surprising sound. He turns around and smirks. "Why'd you put a shirt on?" He counters.

Fair. But it's his shirt and your underwear, isn't that what most guys find sexy? He's in his pajamas, very cutely, but five minutes ago he was coming inside you so a tad more explicit behaviour tonight shouldn't be out of the question. So, if he needs something from you then you'll trail your hands down the shirt, fiddle with the bottom—teasing, of course—and take the garment off, dropping it at his feet as an offering.

His lust-filled eyes work as encouragement, straying you from an insecurity. His hands move from his side and meet the bottom of his shirt. He's slow, much more than you were. You ripped the Band-Aid off, and he's easing it slowly away from the skin. He nearly gets trapped in its collar and has to twist his head back and forth to withdraw from it. Then, he tosses it at your feet, a slight chuckle of embarrassment rippling through him. "Now get in bed," he tells you.

You look toward the pristine sight, something off of HGTV or an Ikea catalogue. "But I don't want to ruin it," you candidly reply. It even has one of those small useless pillows sitting there for merely display purposes.

He walks toward you. "Get in bed," he says with a smirk. He pats your ass giving a light squeeze to your right ass cheek before heading into the bathroom. You look behind you at the closed bathroom door and inch your way to the bed, carefully taking off the small useless pillow. You pull back the duvet and slide into the sea of blue and then you wait.

You see the light spilling out from the bottom crack of the bathroom door. You hear him turn on the sink, the sound of him brushing his teeth. The water shuts off but he doesn't come out immediately. He takes his time and you wish you could peek in on whatever he's doing. Washing his hands, styling his hair, psyching himself up in the mirror, whatever it may be you want to be witness to it.

The door clicks open and he walks out, making his way to the bed and under the covers. He pulls the blankets over both of you and moves close by means of huddling for warmth. Your nipples rub against the blanket, shielding them from his view, but not his imagination. "Are you cold?" He asks.

You shake your head but tighten your hold on the blanket. You are a little cold but mostly nervous, just a tad. He nods and you can see the hesitance spilling from him. There's something intimate about sex but in comparison to this, it's nothing. The personal laying of your figures side-by-side. Your boobs are exposed and his chest is so close your palm can almost touch it. Instead, you two sit in silence, scared to be the first to speak because it's the first time you've done this with each other. 

Because it's not just spending the night or a hook-up, it's something far greater that you can't name. Something you want to work so badly it could kill you. Because he's looking at you like that: eyes warm and shiny, perfect for falling into. Him. Him. Because he's right up against you without touching you and now you have to relinquish yourself to him in a far more vulnerable way than sex. But the idea of falling asleep in his arms seems so nice that you can't bear any distance, even if it is small. 

"Do you always make the bed like that?" You ask him. You relax down into the pillow, turning onto your side to face him more clearly.

His smile grows warmer and it makes your insides feel less cold. "No. I'm neat but I'm not that neat."

"Why'd you do it that way then? Special occasion?" You smile back knowingly. He's always been one for silent gestures. Only the little things you notice way down the line. The little things you know now and the ones you have yet to discover.

He blushes, turning bashfully away from you. "Maybe. Yeah. Thought I'd make it look more homely."

You giggle, not because it's very funny, but because he's very charming. Enough to make any girl giddy. "It looked more like a display room to me but it was very pretty to watch."

Alex turns onto his side now, smirking in such a delight that it pierces through you. "Yeah. And you like to do that stalking thing?"

You bite your lip from mild embarrassment and in an attempt to hide to smile he's forcing increasingly on your face. "You're very cute to watch. I'm sure you know that."

"Well..." He trails off but his hand moves under the covers, landing on the curve of your side, just under your ribs. He's delicate, not trying to make a big deal out of it, the same with everything he does. But you notice. It's hard not to notice that warm touch.

"I don't even think I made my bed this morning," you tell him. Not that it matters much when you're lying in his.

He chuckles and gradually leans closer and closer. "I like to be organized." That's plenty nice under these nice sheets but his lips are far greater as he comes toward yours. He hovers before latching on. It's a smooth grip, nothing harsh as you lock lips. Everything about it flows.

His hand moves up your figure, his thumb lightly caressing the bottom of your boob. Your hand steadies on his shoulder. He feels firm as your hand grazes down his arm before shifting over to his chest, feeling him beneath your hand.

The kissing becomes harsher, not aggressive, but determined passion from both sides. You were drawn together and it felt impossible to ignore, even as things became more rushed. You rolled over and he followed with his body on top. His hand massaged your side and your bodies smushed together, your boobs stuck in between each other in that small space.

"You just changed the sheets," you mumble in the chaos of attached lips.

His lips strayed, moving down from your lips, kissing your chin, and down the column of your neck on that tender part of your throat. "Fuck that. I don't care," Alex kissed into your skin. He paid tribute to your right collarbone, briefly sticking out his tongue and running a line across it. He kissed your shoulder and moved down further to your breasts. 

He licks his way to the nipple, already sensitive from the cold and rubbing up against him. Suddenly, he makes a loud smooching noise and blows a raspberry on it. It's ticklish, erupting impossible to avoid laughter as you push his head away from the affected spot.

"Stop it," you manage to get out. "So much for being sensual."

Alex kisses one of your ribs like it's him and it may be what created you. "I never promised sensuality."

"I thought you making out with my breasts implied that." He laughs and kisses the untouched boob. His lips hover like he's threatening to do it to the other one. "I'll leave if you do it again. What if someone did that to your dick?"

He thinks about it, tossing his head back and forth. "It'd probably feel good." His eyes look away like he’s imagining the pleasure.

Your hands reached down, snaking in between your two bodies. You grab a hold of the waistband of his boxers, snapping it against his skin. "You want to bet?" You push him onto his back, gazing down at him.

"You don't know men very well if you think the threat of a blowjob is gonna scare them off."

Still, you descend him. Your fingers dance on his hip bone. He delightfully protrudes onto you. He conflicts with himself whether to revel in the feeling with his head on the pillow or watch you as you tease him. His eyes remain on you as your pointer finger grasps onto the elastic of his boxers. Edging him in anticipation. A dance between the dainty and the robust. 

You send him a mocking grin, displaying your teeth, latching onto that waistband, dragging it slowly, revealing the bottom portion of his stomach before stopping. You kissed the newly exposed skin as he sucks in a breath like he hasn't taken one in minutes. You press your face into him. Your nose inhaling him into you, the smell of him plain, only a simple bar of soap has passed this area. Yet, however plain, it calms you. You wish to rest your head here for a little while, maybe fall asleep here because he isn't restless here. This is where things calm.

You resume. Your hands drift further down, dipping into his boxers, giving a slight touch to him. Your hands are cold against the warm skin. It might turn him on even more. Finally, you pull his boxers down fully, letting his erection pop out on display. Your hand grabs a hold of it. He shivers from the cold, anticipation, and the soon-to-be relief.

You hold him carefully in your hand like you're observing him scientifically. You need to cover every surface with your eyes, every vein needs to be noted, and the way he twitches should be put in the records. "Come on," he just barely mutters.

It's the complete opposite from earlier when he was quick with you. When you were messy with each other. When alarm clocks were pushed on the floor and sheets were left with no choice but to wash. You're careful now, if not, torturous. Alas, you lick up the side of him to the tip. Your tongue grazes over the slit, enjoying the way it makes him stiff. 

You seal a kiss on it before your mouth covers the top of him. You suck on him, pleasurable for both him and you. Then, you blow a raspberry on him. You wish to capture the way he wiggles around and groans but you're too busy laughing at him. "How was that?"

Alex brings a hand to his head. He rubs his fingers between his eyebrows to calm that distress in him. "Not very sensual." You share a laugh before taking him off guard with how quickly you return to the task at (or in your) hand. 

You stroke him, moving the salvia from the top down to lubricate the bottom. Your mouth covers him again, but this time takes him fully in a slow controlled manner. The pressure pushes against your throat as your nose rubs that spot on his stomach again. You pull yourself off, wiping the string of spit that connects you. Your hand continues its work as you kiss his hip, then the top of his thigh, then his pelvis, then his penis.

His hand stops you from taking him completely in your mouth again. "Get on me."

"What?" You question.

"Let me fuck you again." He's almost begging, his eyes fluttering shut and his grasp on your upper arm strengthening. "Please."

"What about the bed?" It was so nice moments ago but the blankets have been thrown and the sheets exposed, a trace of your spit already covering them.

He shakes his head on the pillow, trying not to lose the moment. He pinches that glabella. "Let's just fuck on the fucking floor."

You hesitate on the bed but he's quick, already has his knees pressed on the cold wood floors. He reaches a hand up to you, which you take, kicking your feet out and meeting him on the floor. "I'm gonna get a splinter from this."

He laughs, placing his hands on your waist, his thumb stroking up and down. "How do you want to do this?" He doesn't hesitate, dragging your panties off as soon as he can.

"I don't know. It was your idea. Just fuck me, I guess."

"Okay," he mutters like he's still trying to figure it out himself. He looks around, trying to place the space on the floor, and then kisses you, overpowering you. You're on your back, your shoulders grazing the floor's rug. You could start a fire with the way your skin brushes against it. You clutch his neck to grasp on something desperately as he moves himself through your folds, soaked up in you.

Now, it's sensual as he eases slowly into you. It's barely anything but then it's barely nothing. Everything is touched and you were just like this less than an hour ago but it already feels different. The way his eyes land on you is much softer and his touch is caring. There's no rushing, roughness, or scratching. It's tender, graceful, and clutching. He's powering but not overtly. His hips snap but not aggressively.

It's fulfilling. He kisses every nerve ending in you. It's making love in all those stupid, cheesy, romance movie kind of ways but it's him and it's you, something yet to fully be explored and you get to be a first-hand witness to every touch he lands on you. His thumb strokes you so carefully but it lights you up completely. 

You arch up into him and you know he's much closer than you are, so, you reach up and smooth your hand over his cheek before wrapping your arm around his neck. You whisper into his ear for him to let go and give himself over to you. It's late and tiring, it's like falling asleep in each other's arms as he lets go into you.

Everything in him is sensitive. He shudders as everything comes over him. He buries his head into your neck, rubbing his nose against your jugular. Your hand runs through his hair as he groans the last bits of relief into your skin. It's content. Your heart rates settle against one another as if you're beating in time with one another. 

Alex starts to move again, even slower than before, but he's not willing to let this go. He doesn't like it just being about him. He doesn't like all that attention. So, he gives it, gives it all over, fucking you with the remnants of him still inside you. 

His overstimulation settles as he begins to rush forward. The thumb stroking picks up right over your clit and it's cold hands on warm flesh. It's so divine, an enhancement. It's not just a regular touch, it's an imprint as the cold seeps into you and he drives himself into you. He groans and you moan but it's all whispers for just one another. No soul will ever hear each other this way because it's never been like this before and you're not sure it will ever be like this again, even with him. It's a sliver of time for just the two of you.

Each of your breathing grows heavy and your hips lift. It all moves quicker and you can feel the rug burn forming on your skin as you come. It overrides anything. You clutch onto him in any way possible. Your hands in his hair, your legs around his waist, him still sitting inside you. It's a release. Completely. 

When everything relaxes just enough, your grasp loosens and he rolls beside you onto his back. You tilt your head slightly up to look at his profile, even with barely any light in the room it's scenic. It's like looking out at the ocean from the cliff. 

He has steadied himself when he turns his head over to meet your eyes. "Good?" It could mean a number of things. If you're okay, if the sex was okay, if you're alright staying here on the floor forever.

Either way, you are. "Good," you answer in the affirmative. You reach out to him, pushing his hair back so you can get the best view of his eyes. "You?"

Alex nods. His eyes are obviously tired, fluttering with the wind. "We should get back in bed."

"Or stay here for a minute more," you suggest because the moment will be gone, ending forever, the second you stand up from this small cocoon of space.

He doesn't reject the idea. His body is so relaxed against the wood. "When I was younger," he tells you, "I used to sleep on the floor because I was scared of my bed."

It's a privilege to know these small stories about him. To run your fingers through his hair as he tells you a childhood story that has him smiling. "Why?" You ask.

Alex shifts closer, his arm landing over your waist. He tugs you closer to him as if he wants to absorb you, live in one body with you. It almost feels like that in this small space where your breaths duel one another. "I don't know. It was my first big kid bed. I think I thought monsters lived in there."

You squint. "So you slept closer to where they lived under your bed?"

He chuckles and gives a light squeeze to your side. "I was four, I had no logic."

You recall, "I used to just sleep in my parents' room. Might've caused their divorce." Your hand drifts away from his hair and down to his back, at long last rubbing down his spine, feeling those notches in him. If he sleeps on his stomach, you might wake him up tomorrow by kissing your way down those vertebrae.

"Why?" He questions just like you.

"They could never have sex 'cause I was in there all the time." There's laughter shared, an increased amount, maybe because you just had sex and you'll have plenty more sex but for now you'll lie here. You want to squeeze him in between your fingers, pinch a piece off of him, and carry it around with you in your bag, in your pocket, in your skin.

His hand moves to your back, moving along your spine, massaging the muscles around it. "I walked in on them once. I think I'll take your side of things," he said. He pulled a disgusted face before dusting a smile. "I thought they were wrestling."

Your laughter is loud, infectious and it makes him laugh too and you'll get up off the floor at some point but for now, you'd like to stay here in a world with just the two of you.

*

a/n: i like this one. maybe because i was more relaxed when i wrote it. excuse yet another 'perfect sense' title, it just fits so well. thanks, bye.

[naffeclipse]

Taste Test

Reader x Mermaid!Eclipse

Commission Info

I'm back once more for a lovely little request from @counterbalance who wanted Y/N and Mer Eclipse to play a little game involving food, taste buds, and guessing! This was a sweet little treat to write, ah! Eclipse loves his yummy fish and deep sea delicaties but Y/N has a few tasty morsels from on land to try and stump Eclipse with.

———

The sea is gentle with its waves. Softly lapping against the side of the Rustbucket II, the water holds still and calm. The late evening light burns golden over your boat. Looking out the small window of the cabin, you watch the glittering shards of light dance over the smallest stirrings of the ocean. 

A small shiver comes over you. Tucking your thick wool coat tighter around your sweater and overalls, you sit at the humble wooden table slotted into the narrow space. Your fishing boat is far from glamorous, but it has always served you well. 

A familiar, kind pulse fills the space of your ribcage, and you smile.

“Hey, big guy.”

The resounding swell within you answers, and you nearly close your eyes to soak in the vivid desire he holds to scoop you up in his palm and gently nuzzle your face.

But not right now. You two are playing a game. The leviathan has tucked himself away in his cavern so there is no chance of cheating—not that he would. It’s just that his big eyes tend to stray over to whatever you’ve prepared for the game when he’s lingering along the surface, and you can’t help but turn your head towards whatever catch he has thrashing in the water.

Now that you’ve learned just how acutely you can share things over the magical bond of your soul connection, you’ve developed a guessing game.

Four bowls spread over the tabletop before you. One holds small bites of beef jerky, another salty nuts, the next some dry fruits, and lastly, a bowl of ice cream that’s beginning to melt. 

“Are you ready?” you whisper to the air, concentrating on the great warmth in your middle. 

A resounding heat rolls through you. You feel the splashing excitement beginning to surge through him, and then a wayward thought of what meals he’s chosen before he cuts those off from your presence.

“Nothing is spicy, I promise,” you say quickly.

A pouty swell moves through you. Of course, you don’t eat spice often simply do not torment Eclipse with the wicked heat on your tongue. But you will warn him whenever you’re about to enjoy a meal with a kick to it. 

The first time you had unknowingly subjected him to such an experience, he had been confounded by your willingness to subject yourself to such painful torment as cayenne pepper. 

You first.

Eclipse nudges you gently, and you sit up straighter in your seat. You pluck a bit of beef jerky. It’s a bit more expensive than you’ll usually splurge on, but you want to feel his reaction to a lump of meat that is not fish. 

Popping it in your mouth, you begin chewing. You throw all your concentration into the flavor filling your mouth, savory and rich. You chew and chew, your molars working on the tough and dried meat. 

You feel Eclipse in the distance. His jaw unconsciously works with yours. You keep your thoughts close to him as if you drew a curtain around your mind, but he feels the sensation in your mouth all the same. 

He knows that you don’t have it a lot. It is saved for only rare occasions.

Something once alive.

“Correct,” you say around your morsel.

You feel his mind working, jumping from textures of fish he’s caught from a large, elderly whale to an armor-crusted deep sea creature you have no name for. 

His guess jumps into you. The latter fish he thought of. 

“Sorry, that’s not it.” You swallow the bite with a grin. “It’s beef jerky. It comes from a cow.”

He pouts, a lighthearted tide touching against you. It’s not meant to be easy, but the point is to feel each other’s thought process while taking from their own experiences and trying to decipher something the other has never tried.

My turn.

“Go ahead, big guy.” You sit back in your chair. Closing your eyes, you focus on the inner tugs of your soul. 

Eclipse lifts something to his mouth. He takes one big bite, and you frown at the texture. You feel it slipping over his tongue as if it were your own. You’ve sensed such a sensation before. 

Oh, this is easy.

“Squid,” you point your finger upwards in an ‘ah ha’ moment. 

A pleasurable flow moves through you. It would have been sad had you gotten that wrong, considering that it’s one of his favorites. Not that you can imagine eating squid in such a fashion.

In-kind, you move on to the salty nut. Tossing a handful into your mouth, you hardly have a second to chew before Eclipse correctly guesses the food. It’s a favored snack of yours. 

Too easy.

You huff out a breath at him before he dines on something else. Something new. You frown at the unique texture. It’s supple but rich in flavor. Lean and strong. Eclipse chews it with delight before swallowing it down.

“I… I don’t know,” you manage, stumped. “What is it?”

You are impressed upon with visions deep in the blue sea. Then there are silverfish. Large compared to you, but bite size for Eclipse. The long, flattened bills give away what they are.

“Swordfish.” You never would have guessed.

Eclipse rumbles in delight though admits he doesn’t usually eat them. They’re too much of a pain to catch, but he wanted to win you on something. 

You laugh.

“Cheater.”

He rebuffs you with a promise that he would never, and you reassure him that you’re well aware. You just wanted to pull his leg—or tail.

You taste the dry fruits next. The natural sweetness bursts over your tongue though kept contained without the juices. Eclipse makes a face, finding it leathery and strange.

He has no answer until you reveal it to him. 

The last food from Eclipse has him buzzing. You stir with his energy as he sets something in his mouth, and it crunches. You almost flinch from the great sound. It’s meaty as well. 

“Clams?” you ask, though you’re grasping at straws. “Mussels?”

Eclipse trills inwardly. Wrong. Wrong.

Then he gives you an impression of a crab, a great deep sea one that almost looks too alien to walk this earth. 

He got you again.

You straighten and grab a spoon. “I have a surprise for you.”

Eclipse immediately stills, his curiosity piqued while you spoon up a small bite of chocolate ice cream. It begins to pool the bowl, but it retains its cool richness. 

You take the bite and slowly swirl the ice cream around with your tongue. The sweet treat immediately sends a shiver down your back.

You feel Eclipse shudder with the sensation, but his frills pick up and his presence burns within you in delight.

He loves it, though not any brain freezes that might come with it

Ice cream.

“It sure is, big guy,” you grin. “Do you want to share some more?”

His resounding answer makes you laugh softly.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter four a whirlwind of chaos and laughter turns into something much more when Miss Journalist and Hiori Yo can't ignore the spark between them any longer. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint) masterlist

"And action!"

The marketing manager’s voice slices through the steady crackle of sizzling chicken nuggets.

You’re back in Bastard Munchen’s pristine kitchen. Instead of lounging by the marble island sharing a plate of pot stickers with the players, you’re seated across from Hiori Yo—your favorite football player turned late-night gaming buddy.

For someone who admitted to staying up late last night (because he had to try that newly released game he’s been raving on about), he looks annoyingly refreshed. 

And, frankly, annoyingly fine.

A small round table separates the two of you, modestly set for a casual meal for two, like something out of a cozy café. The kitchen hasn’t changed much for this setup, save for the table serving as an odd centerpiece amidst its sleek, curated kitchen backdrop. The savory aroma of frying chicken nuggets fills the air, mingling with a faint whiff of rain you’re convinced is coming from Hiori.

Your "date" shifts in his seat, snapping you out of your thoughts. He flashes you an easy smile—the kind that promises everything���s going to be just fine. Behind him, the camera crew hovers, accompanied by the marketing manager.

“Hi,” Hiori says softly, his voice charming you like a spell, as if this really is some kind of meet-cute.

“Hello,” you reply, stifling a laugh. But your lips betray you, curling into a smile you can’t quite suppress.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The silence melts into shared giggles—like kids conspiring over a secret.

And maybe, in a way, you are.

“Ya look great today,” Hiori says, his gaze unwavering. He doesn’t give your outfit a once-over; instead, his eyes stay locked on your face, as though that’s all he needs to confirm your beauty.

“Thanks,” you reply, looking at your outfit consciously. “It’s nice to see you in normal clothes for once.”

Your confidence feels natural today, and you prop your head in one hand, soaking in the sight of him.

“Hmm... Ya make it sound like I wear a costume every time we meet,” he chuckles, tugging at the sleeve of his navy bomber jacket. His eyes flick away for a moment, and you catch the faintest hint of red at the tips of his ears.

Instead of his usual training jersey or the black-and-gold Bastard München kit, Hiori wears a simple black shirt beneath the jacket. It’s a casual choice that shifts his entire aura. You’ve seen him countless times, on and off the field, but almost always in his professional gear.

In your eyes, Hiori Yo has always been the football superstar—someone you interact with because of work, someone you talk to more than most because of work. Someone who probably sees you as just another face in the sea of media professionals.

But today feels different. This little illusion—the cozy setup, the way he leans into the role of your "date"—lets you live out a fantasy. For a moment, it feels like it could be real under different circumstances.

“And you,” you tease, leaning in slightly, “it’s nice to see how you’d dress for a date.”

“I am on a date.” His brows furrow slightly. “We’re on a date.” His voice is calm, his words spoken like an unshakable truth.

For a fleeting moment, he’s not a football superstar, not leagues out of your reach.

He’s just a guy across the table, someone you can picture sharing lazy Saturday afternoons with. Someone you could almost believe is sitting here because of you—and only you.

Before you can reply, Gagamaru steps in with impeccable timing. He sets down a plate of crispy chicken nuggets and furikake fries between you. The golden nuggets glisten under the kitchen lights as he places a bottle of ketchup and two cans of soda on the table.

Right. The shoot.

Just last week, Bastard München’s marketing manager emailed you about joining a new off-season content project. With the players finally on their mid-season break, the team plans a video series to spotlight individual players—to test their broader appeal to fans and potential sponsors.

Their words, not yours.

And the concept of the video you’re being invited for? A one-on-one interview styled like a date, featuring none other than their genius midfielder, Hiori Yo.

Apparently, your last collaboration—the behind-the-scenes “day in the life” video courtesy of JFA—had sparked unexpected chemistry.

It caught fans' attention, stirring days of chatter about you, Hiori, and Bastard München. It isn’t “worldwide trending,” but the buzz is undeniable. The fans just can’t get enough of the surprising, romcom-like moments between you and Hiori.

A lucky journalist interacting with one of the most elusive players of his generation. Shared moments as if it's straight out of a movie.

The dream for every fangirl.

This shoot was an experiment to explore Hiori’s broader appeal, pairing his quiet, understated charm with your relatable, approachable vibe. It’s also an opportunity to spotlight one of their more introverted players, someone who avoids the public eye as much as he can.

Your editor doesn’t hesitate to green-light the project. She’s all-in, shuffling your deadlines and clearing your schedule to make it happen. And her enthusiasm doesn’t even stop there. She nudged you more than once to “just go for it” with the charming midfielder. 

Because, as she so eloquently puts it, “What’s there to lose?”.

And now here you are, playing your part.

Your version of casual date attire: an oversized light-blue button-down (coincidentally matching Hiori’s eyes) left open over a white square-neck cami. It’s nothing flashy, just enough to look the part of someone on a date with someone they like.

“Hmmm, since this is a date, I guess I should start with some date questions,” you say, pursing your lips in mock contemplation. You pull out a small stack of cards the marketing manager handed you earlier and place them neatly beside the plate of food, within reach of both of you.

According to her, the cards are a mix of fun tweets and generic icebreakers designed to spark lighthearted conversation.

Across the table, Hiori munches on furikake fries, watching you with a small smile. His gaze catches yours mid-bite, and you feel a faint flush rise to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you decide to jump right into the questions, catching him just as he pops another fry into his mouth.

“Who’s your favorite player?” you ask.

“Easy—Mesut Özil,” he answers without a second’s hesitation.

“Favorite food?”

“Salt-grilled Pacific saury. I even like the bitter parts.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Ready Player One.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really? I didn’t peg you for the geek type.”

Hiori grins, a little sheepish. “Well... I am. Watchin’ it got my otaku heart racin’.”

He leans back, the humor in his tone shifting to something softer. “Shouldn’t ya know that already? I talked yer ear off about Warhammer last time we played together.” He scratches the back of his neck, glancing away as though embarrassed by the admission.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “I didn’t realize it was at that level. I just thought, ‘Oh, Hiori's talking about his interests, that’s cool.’ I didn’t even know what Warhammer was until you brought it up.” You tighten your lips into a sheepish grin, waving your hands in exaggerated defense.

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head.

The moment is interrupted by a sharp cough off-screen. Both of you whip your heads toward the sound, eyes landing on someone in the crew.

“You guys play games together off hours?” someone asks, voice edged with curiosity.

“Yes?” you and Hiori answer simultaneously, far too quickly. Your voices carry the same nervous uncertainty, the shared “yes” echoing awkwardly between you and Hiori.

A beat of silence stretches, and you can feel the marketing manager’s eyes darting between the two of you, brimming with a curiosity you’re sure they won’t voice—at least not now.

As the buzz of the set picks up again, Hiori leans closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Guess we’re both not so good at keepin’ secrets, huh?”

You clear your throat and push forward with the next question.

“What’s your strength?”

“As a person or as a player?”

You pause briefly. “Both, if you can.”

He leans back, thoughtful. “I guess… my ability to see things from a broader perspective.”

“And your weakness?”

“Playin’ too much.” He shrugs lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up in it, I lose motivation for other stuff.”

You’re about to fire off another question when he raises a hand, laughing. “Whoa, slow down! This’s startin’ to feel like a job interview.”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “Oh, sorry! Force of habit—y’know, journalist mode.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your soda to cover your embarrassment.

Hiori gives you a honest to goodness smile, as if amused. “So, this’s ya gettin’ to know me, huh?”

You set the cards down with a huff, deciding to switch gears. Inhaling deeply, you exhale a dramatic sigh. “Soooo… what’s your type?”

“Type of what?” he asks teasingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Type of person, romantic partner, obviously.”

He tilts his head, giving the question some thought. “Someone who’s independent. I need space to do my own thing, especially when I’m gamin’. Ya know that already.” His gaze softens as it meets yours.

“But they should be there when it counts. Life as an athlete’s hectic—ya’ve seen how it is.”

You nod, pretending to jot down a mental note. “So… low-maintenance. Got it.”

Hiori chuckles, shaking his head. “Not low-maintenance—just someone who understands balance. And maybe someone who doesn’t mind long Monster Hunter sessions.” He smirks knowingly, and for a fleeting moment, the unspoken connection between you lingers in the air, understanding the inside joke.

Your bite your lips, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, that’s… oddly specific.”

Two months of Monster Hunter nights flash in your mind. Ever since Hiori casually suggested playing together, your evenings had been filled with wyvern hunts and co-op quests. He has an uncanny knack for strategy—always two steps ahead, always saving you when things got dicey.

And then there was that time he convinced you to try Nier: Automata. You’d never forget him backseating with a mixture of exasperation and amusement as you struggled to fend off machines as the stunning android 2B.

“No, no, dodge now! Okay, wait—parry—no, don’t roll off the edge!” His laughter still echoes in your mind.

Your expression softens as the memories linger, but you quickly rein yourself back into the present.

“Yer turn,” Hiori prompts, raising an eyebrow as if daring you. “What’s yer type?”

“Oh, uh…” You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, thinking. “I guess... someone kind, who can make me laugh. And…” You hesitate before adding, “Someone who respects my space and time, especially since I’m kind of a workaholic.”

Then, with a pointed glance, you add, “And someone who doesn’t put me on the spot during interviews.”

Hiori bursts out laughing, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Noted. I’ll behave.”

Before you can relax and skim through some of the cards, Hiori throws you a curveball. “What keeps ya goin’ when stuff gets rough?”

You blink, momentarily stunned by the weight of the question. His eyes lock on yours, searching. For a moment, you feel yourself slipping into those deep blue pools.

“Me? Oh, um…” You shift in your seat, unsure how to articulate your thoughts.

“I think it’s knowing I can tell stories that matter—stories that connect people.” You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s kind of a cliché, I know—”

“It's not,” Hiori interjects, his voice soft but firm. His hand brushes yours briefly on the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your fingertips. The sincerity in his gaze holds you in place.

“It shows ya care about what ya do. And that’s what counts, right?”

The warmth in his voice and the light touch of his fingers send heat creeping up your neck. You let the sensation linger for a beat before pulling your hand back, pretending to tuck a nonexistent stray hair behind your ear. The gesture does little to calm your racing thoughts.

Hiori continues, his expression contemplative. “I remember readin’ yer article.”

“Yeah?” You’re genuinely surprised he's bringing it up.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice softening. “The team was in a bad place back then. Greisner wasn’t even talkin' to anyone.” He chuckles awkwardly, and you catch a muffled, annoyed Oi! from somewhere in the background.

“We were playin’ like crap. Everyone could see it—fans, other teams… even us. Felt like it was us against the world.” His gaze flickers to the side, as if embarrassed by his own admission.

You hold your breath, sensing there’s more he wants to say.

“But then someone sent me yer article,” he continues. “At first, I thought, ‘Great, another roast piece.’ But it wasn’t. Ya didn’t tear us apart. Ya saw something in me—”

“In us,” he corrects himself, covering it with a cough.

“It reminded us someone out there was in our corner. That meant somethin’.”

The weight of his words leaves you momentarily speechless. Your hands fly to your mouth as if to contain your shock. “Wow, I had no idea... I’m just... glad I could help in some way.”

“Ya did. More than ya could possibly imagine,” he says simply, his tone carrying a quiet gratitude. “That article reminded us—even when things feel impossible, there’s always a way forward. Whether it’s in football or anything else, progress happens if ya keep trying. Little by little.” He pauses, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Ya told that story.”

Your chest tightens at the honesty in his words. You nod slowly, letting them sink in. “That’s... really... I, uh... That's means a lot, Hiori.”

He shrugs lightly, a small smile playing on his lips as if to downplay the moment. “It’s just how I try to see things.”

A playful glint returns to his eyes as he adds, “Plus, without it, I guess we wouldn’t be here. On this date. Together.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, leaving a warmth blooming in your chest.

Being a journalist has always felt like existing in a strange limbo.

You’re a faceless name, sending your thoughts out into a void, never quite knowing if your words resonate with anyone—or if they even make a difference. It was that wishful thinking, that quiet hope of connection, that drove you to pursue this career despite the doubts you faced years ago.

Hearing Hiori’s words now, realizing that your article didn’t just touch lives but changed them—his team’s and his—fills you with a sense of pride and fulfillment that you rarely allow yourself to feel. It might seem small to others, but to you, it’s everything.

Your gaze drifts to him, gratitude softening your features. His earlier touch still lingers on your fingertips, a faint reminder of the unspoken connection building between you.

I wonder if this is what it feels like... to be in the right place at the right time. To have something just... click.

You clear your throat, shaking the cards in your hand. Loosening up by rolling your shoulders and stretching your arms, a big smile betrays your nonchalance over what you’ve heard.

“Okay, moving on! These are fan questions—filtered and curated, of course.”

Hiori raises an eyebrow. “Curated, huh?”

You shuffle the cards with a sheepish grin and glance at the first one. Without thinking, you read it aloud:

“Hiori, your hands look really nice. Are they soft like how they look in camera?”

Hiori chuckles, holding up his hands as if presenting evidence. “Guess I gotta ask ya.”

“Wha—?!” Your jaw drops. “Me?”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Ya’ve shaken hands with me before, haventcha? So, what’s the verdict? Are they soft?”

You laugh nervously, feeling your face heat up. “I—I am not answering that!”

“C’mon, just settle it.” Hiori laughs, holding his hands out toward you.

Hesitant but unable to resist, you gingerly take his left hand and give it a light squeeze. Your fingers trace his palm as you try to compose your thoughts.

“They’re… huh… I’m surprised. They look soft, but they’re a little rough. Probably because of football, but—”

You stop mid-sentence as Hiori’s playful smile grows wider. Realizing he’s enjoying hearing your thoughts, you let out a dramatic sigh and turn toward the camera.

“They’re soft,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes for effect.

You quickly pick up the next card, only to have your eyes widen in shock. A nervous laugh escapes you as you read it silently, trying to decide whether to skip it.

“Oh, wow. This one’s… bold,” you mutter, clearing your throat.

Finally, you muster the courage to read it out loud: “Bet Hiori is a dom.”

Your voice drops to a whisper by the end, and you dart a glance at Hiori. His expression is a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do I… do we really have to answer this?” you ask, waving the card toward the marketing manager watching from the sidelines.

Hiori chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting into a teasing smile. “Ya already said it out loud. Too late to back out now.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I regret everything.”

Leaning closer, his voice drops to a playful murmur. “Whatcha think?”

Your head snaps up, and you feel your cheeks go impossibly hotter. “I—I am not answering that!” you stammer defensively.

Hiori leans back, feigning innocence, though his grin betrays him. “Suspicious. Very suspicious.”

Despite your flustered state, you blurt out, “Okay, fine! I guess you are a dom. An ultra sadist.” You pause for a second, biting your lip, wondering if you’ve said too much.

Did I really just say that out loud?

You can feel the heat rush to your face, but there's no going back now.

Hiori, caught mid-sip of his soda, chokes in surprise, coughing violently as he grabs for a tissue. You burst into laughter, hurriedly handing him more while apologizing between giggles.

“Sorry! Isagi told me to say it!” You point accusingly off-camera.

Hiori turns to see Isagi standing next to the monitor, a whiteboard in hand with Hiori = Ultra Sadist scrawled across it in big, bold letters. Behind him, Kurona, Raichi, and Igarashi are doubled over in laughter. Isagi gives an awkward thumbs-up, his boyish grin only making Hiori groan.

“M'going to have a long talk with him later,” he mutters under his breath, earning another round of laughter from you.

Eager to change the subject, you grab the next card, a smile lingering as you read aloud. “Ohh... This one’s fun... ‘Hiori Yo could read the phonebook to me, and I’d still swoon.’”

Tilting your head thoughtfully, you glance at him. “Now I kind of want to test that. Can you actually make a phonebook sound swoon-worthy?”

Hiori pauses in thought and sets his drink aside. His voice dips into a smooth, velvety tone as he says, “Tourist Information Center: 03-3201-3331. For general tourism inquiries, open from 9 AM to 5 PM.”

A small Oooooh escapes your lips. “That was way too good. Are you sure this isn’t your secret side hustle?” .

He chuckles, gaze soft but playful. “Think I should start a hotline? Late-night calls... reading lists... ASMR…” He pauses, his eyes flicking toward you with a teasing glint. “Or maybe something... more exclusive?”

The insinuation isn’t lost on you, and you chuckle, shaking your head. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, hoping the blush isn’t obvious.

“Maybe,” he replies casually in a singsong manner, his smile lingering as he props his face on his hands looking at you.

You take another bite of a chicken nugget, clearing your throat before reading the next card. “Can Hiori teach me football like he taught Y/N? Asking for a friend.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a playful grin. “Looks like you’re in high demand, Coach Hiori.”

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, he grins. “M'flattered, but I might already have a favorite student.”

Caught off guard, you blink. “Wait, me?”

His smirk widens as he nods. “Who else?”

You feel heat rise to your face but brush it off quickly. Flipping to the next card, you snort as you read aloud, “Hiori Yo x Miss Journalist content is my new religion. Bless Bastard München’s marketing team.”

You groan dramatically. “Bless them? I think they’re trying to embarrass me!”

Hiori only shrugs, “Or maybe they’re just helping us make memories.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,”

Letting out a small laugh, you glance at the next card. “Okay, here’s another one. Do you guys realize how much chemistry you have?”

Hiori’s lips curl into a faint smile as he looks at you. “Chemistry, huh? Whatcha think?”

Flustered, you glance away, focusing on the cards as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “That’s not for me to say! I’m just reading the questions.”

“But yer the expert, aintcha?” Hiori leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Observing players, analyzing dynamics…”

You hesitate, heart fluttering at his unexpected intensity.

For a moment, you can’t help but notice how earnest he looks behind his boyish smile. His eyes are warm, his posture leaning in slightly as though waiting for your answer—and it makes the air between you feel charged.

“Well,” you say carefully, your voice quieter now, “I do think we have chemistry. I mean, we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t vibe, right?”

Grinning, you pick up the last nugget and offer it to him. His gaze follows your hand closely, and as he leans forward to take a bite, you forget just how tall he is and how he's able to reach you immediately,

The proximity catches you off guard, and his lips brush against your fingertips lightly. The brief contact sends a shiver through you, a subtle spark that lingers long after.

His smile widens, an innocent taunt in his expression, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath his teasing eyes.

For a moment, everything else fades into background.

Who knew he had such game?

But you don’t falter. Without breaking eye contact, you pop the rest into your mouth, making an exaggerated show of it. His eyes widen slightly, but that satisfied grin never leaves his face, his gaze still lingering on you as if the playful moment hadn’t quite ended.

“Y’know,” he says, settling back. “I almost didn’t do this. Not really a fan of the camera.”

“What made you reconsider?” you ask curiously, your tone light but intrigued.

“It’s work. I might get fired if I don’t do this occasionally, I guess,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for a better excuse.

A loud snort from the sidelines catches your attention.

“That's bullshit! Hiori immediately said yes when they told him it’s a date with you!” Isagi’s voice cuts through the room, and he doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach.

Behind him, Kurona and Raichi join in, while Ness and Kiyora peek from the hallway, clearly eavesdropping.

Hiori groans, muttering something about refusing to pass to Isagi in the next game unless he begs for forgiveness.

You smile, shaking your head at the chaos. 

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to the task at hand. The cameraman hands over a few more cards. With a glance at the marketing manager, who gestures for you to continue, you smile and read the next one aloud.

“I will riot if Hiori and Y/N don’t end up together. The ship has sailed whether they like it or not!”

You glance at Hiori with a mischievous smile. The urge to take your teasing to the next level is strong. You wanted to see how far this charade can go. Even if it's just for your own satisfaction.

“Wow, people are so invested. I feel responsible. How do we make sure this ship doesn’t sink?”

Hiori leans forward, his expression mock-serious, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, for starters, I think communication is key. Every ship needs a good captain and crew who trust each other.”

He pauses for effect, looking at you pointedly. “Think ya can handle being co-captain?”

Feigning deep thought, you tap your chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Co-captains have to work really closely together, and I’m not sure if you’re up to my standards.”

A playful gasp escapes him. “Not up to yer standards? I’ll have ya know I’m an excellent team player. Just ask Isagi.”

You both turn to Isagi, who’s still recovering from his earlier fit of laughter. He straightens up, grinning. “Oh, absolutely. Hiori’s great—when he’s not plotting how to leave me stranded on the field.”

“Not helping, Isagi,” Hiori mutters, though his smile doesn’t falter.

The playful tension draws a chorus of cheers and mock whistles from the team. Isagi cups his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Let’s gooo, ship of the year!”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile spreading across your face as you glance at Hiori. “Looks like the crew is on board.”

Hiori chuckles, leaning back with a satisfied grin that hints at something deeper. “Then it’s settled. This ship is unsinkable.”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” you exclaim, laughing. “That’s a total jinx!”

The room fills with laughter again, the easy energy between the two of you now impossible to miss. The air feels lighter, but there’s an undeniable current that flows between you, unspoken but clearly present.

With every word, every glance, it feels like you’re navigating uncharted waters together—one small step closer to the edge, yet never quite willing to jump in.

“Miss Journalist, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?” Hiori's eyes narrowing with a suspicious gleam. He’s planning something.

“Yes?” you answer, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

He leans forward, the innocent yet sly smile never leaving his face. “So, you don’t mind me asking—who’s your favorite player on Bastard Munchen?”

You roll your eyes but keep your playful tone, already ready to play along. “That’s a tough one, but I guess... I’d have to say... Gagamaru?”

“Really? Gagamaru?” Hiori laughs, a teasing edge to his voice. “No offense, Gagamaru.”

You shrug with a mischievous grin, trying to keep up the act. 

“That’s not what other people are telling me, though.” Hiori’s eyes twinkle with something unreadable as he pulls out his phone and swipes through it, then shows you the Winstagram picture of you wearing his jersey. 

Oh, dear lord.

You groan inwardly, but there’s no escaping it now. 

“Fine! You’re... up there,” you admit, laughing but feeling the blush creeping in. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, you continue, “But I’m sure the other guys won’t be too happy to hear that.”

Hiori’s grin widens, clearly enjoying himself. “S'okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

Before you can say anything more, Isagi shuffles over with a mischievous grin and hands Hiori a card. Hiori glances at it, his brow raising slightly before that sly smile stretches across his face. 

Holding it up, he reads aloud. “Okay, last card! Due to popular demand, we dare Hiori to ask the journalist out on camera.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor. “Popular demand? Who’s making these demands?”

Hiori doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans towards you, a playful smile on his lips, his gaze locked on you. “Should I?”

You try to laugh it off, waving your hands in mock protest. “You don’t have to entertain everything they write, you know!”

But his gaze never falters. In fact, it softens, turning a little more serious, as if he’s letting a moment of sincerity break through the playful tension. “Yeah, but... what if I want to?”

Your heart skips a beat. “W-wait,” you stammer, feeling your composure slip. “Are you serious?”

Hiori tries to close the distance a bit further, the air between you both growing warmer. “Dinner. Just us. No cameras. Whatcha think?”

You blink, entirely thrown off course, and quickly turn to the crew, desperately waving the cards in mock surrender. “C-can we cut this part out? Please?”

From off-screen, the marketing manager’s voice rings out in amusement. “Nope! This is gold—we’re keeping it.”

Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief filling you. “Why am I even here?” you mutter, half-laughing, half-horrified.

As the crew starts to wrap up, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The shoot has been a whirlwind of chaos and laughter—nothing like you expected. But in the midst of all the teasing and jokes, there have been moments.

Small, fleeting moments where the façade of “content shoot” cracks just enough to reveal something real. Something that makes your heart race.

And it scares you. Because as much as you’ve enjoyed... whatever this is, there’s that nagging thought at the back of your mind. This wasn’t part of the plan.

It wasn’t supposed to feel so... real.

For Hiori, it’s equally disarming. At first, this shoot was just another day on the job. But now, as he watches you—how you smile when you try to deflect a question, the way you talk about your work with such genuine passion, how you handle the “shipping” comments with a perfect blend of humor and grace—it hits him.

He’s drawn to you.

It’s not just the playful banter or the way you make him laugh. It’s the way you see things differently, the way you carry yourself with this unexpected blend of wit and intelligence, and how you’re not fazed by the chaos around you.

When you laugh, it’s not forced; it’s real. When you talk about your work, it’s not some canned response. It’s something you actually care about. He’s seen people like you before, but not like this. Not in a way that makes him feel this... interested.

There’s something about the way you navigate the awkward moments, how you’re not afraid to call him out or laugh at his expense, that makes him want to know more. It’s as if, for the first time in a long time, someone has seen beyond his persona—beyond Hiori Yo the athlete—and into the person he is.

And he likes what he sees.

As you gather your things, Hiori stands, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as if the moment has only just begun. The air between you both feels different now—lighter, yet somehow more significant.

For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s in control, but also... a little unsure. And that feeling, surprisingly, excites him.

“So,” he says, his voice casual but his gaze never wavering from yours, “about that dinner...”

You look up at him, still flustered, but a faint smile creeping onto your lips. You try to deflect, make it sound casual. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

But his eyes are different now—softer, more sincere. “Not a chance.”

And in that moment, you see it. You see the shift in him, in the way he looks at you now—not as another journalist, but as someone he genuinely wants to know beyond the surface.

For a second, you can’t find the words. All you can do is laugh softly, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips as you shake your head.

He’s not asking because of a dare or because of a camera. It’s something real, something unspoken but undeniable. And for the first time today, you let yourself stop overthinking. You let yourself just feel the moment.

“Sure, why not?”

Maybe, just maybe, letting your guard down isn’t such a terrible idea after all.

amari's notes: i was kicking, giggling and smiling alone like crazy writing this! I really think these two have a great balance—neither too shy nor too teasing, just kind of testing the waters and seeing where things go. I’m here for it! If you’re up for it, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[h0ney-mochi]

Admit it, it's jealousy. (Scaramouche x reader)

# sub!Scaramouche, sub!scara, dom!reader, top!reader, readers gender not specified, can be read as gn!reader, reader gets called mommy though, begging, praise kink, scara gets called puppy a few times

Summary: Scaramouche gets jealous and he doesn't want to admit it. So you make him admit it.

A/n: I'm posting this on Tumblr because not all Tumblr people have seen my ao3, probably! :) It's pretty crazy to think about it... I wrote this in 2022... woah. It had its 2 year anniversary a few days ago. ...I still haven't finished the 2nd part since it's deletion from my old phone. All I have is a snippet.. sigh

You knew it. He was obviously jealous. You were previously speaking with some of your guy friends, having a fun time, because one of them apparently just chowed down on some soap that looked like a food. Scaramouche on the other hand was hanging with some other random people, but you caught his eye. He watched as you were speaking with a smile, all of you laughing, the way your friends smiled at you back. It made him feel weird, he didn't know what it was. But he did not like that feeling.

Now you two were back home. You went to make yourself a simple drink in the kitchen, while Scara slowly followed you. He sat down on a chair by the kitchen island and watched you do your thing. "Do you want some tea as well?" You turned to look at him for a moment. He replied with a simple no, so you continued. You filled the object with water and put it to boil. Scara's mind wandered back to your friends, which made him feel that weird feeling again. You noticed him zoning out. You sat down in front of him and began speaking.

"Are you alright? You seem down," you asked with a small smile. He immediately looked at you. He stared for a moment before replying. "I'm fine, just because I look like something doesn't mean I'm that," he rolled his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, "what's wrong?" "Like you don't know," he snarled. You were confused. "What do you mean?" You asked, trying to think of what has happened today. Scara turned his head back at you, staring right at you, "The way they laughed with you? The way they were smiling at you? Looked like they felt accomplished when they made you laugh." You blinked. Did he mean your friends..?

Wait. You furrowed your brows, "What- you've got that wrong, they're my friends. We've always been like that. One of them told me how he ate soap unknowingly, that was funny!" He just nodded his head, "really?" "Yeah, you know that I'm friendly with everyone!" You spoke, tapping the table. He just looked away, not replying. It was silent, except for the water boiling. Then it hit you. He was jealous.

A smirk slowly went on your face. "Are you.. are you jealous, Scara?" You asked. Surely not. He looked at you. So that was that feeling..? He shook his head and looked away again. "No, I'm fucking not." He replied. You blinked at him. "Oh my god, you're jealous??" You couldn't stop your smirk as you watched him avoid your eyes. "I just said that I'm not, are you deaf?" He grunted, looking the other way. You felt amazing for some reason. You got up from your chair and walked to the other side of the island, where Scara sat. He noticed that and turned his chair towards you. You pointed at him, "that, my man, is called jealousy." He glared at you, "I'm not fucking jealous, idiot!" You glared back, "then why are you mad?" "Because they were laughing with you! Did you see the way they looked at you? They definitely had something in mind!" He shot back at you. Silence again. You stared at him, lidded eyes. He stared back.

"That's jealousy." You mumbled. He wanted to say something back, but didn't. "It's not," he denied, starting to spin back to the kitchen island, but you stopped him. He glared at you again, "what do you want." "You're jealous," you repeated, holding the chair. Scara turned his head away, making an ugh noise. You took his jaw and turned him back to you. He went to take your hand away, but your hand that was preventing him from turning away shot to his wrist, stopping it. You watched his eyes widen.

Now he felt different.

"You're jealous," you whispered, staring into his eyes, "admit it." He was silent. He wanted to move his hand, but you tightened your grip on his wrist. His eyes drifted to the side, away from you. "Look at me, Scara," you immediately said. He looked to the other side. "Scara." You held his jaw a bit tighter, "look at me." You watched his eyes slowly look at you. His expression had softened. There was a moment of silence.

"Good boy," you whispered. That line went straight down his pants. You watched his eyes widen slightly. "Admit it. You're jealous." You spoke again, your grip on his jaw loosening, "It's normal, but you should tell me." His eyes drifted away again as he swallowed and you reacted. "Scaramouche, fucking look at me." You said and he immediately looked back. He felt tingly, he started feeling.. hot. "Speak." You simply said. He blinked, eyes looking away, "Ugh, fine, I-" "Look at me." You interrupted him. Scara felt his dick twitch. He looked at you again, a small blush on his face. "I was jealous-" He whispered. "Scara." "I'm jealous-" he said a bit louder. Silence again. You watched his eyes go away again. You sighed and watched as he looked back at you in a moment. You went closer to his face, going to his ear. "Good boy," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. You took your hands away from him and went to pour water in your cup.

Scara just sat there, his mind repeating your words. He felt his dick twitch again as he breathed out through his nose. You just poured your water, put it away and watched the teabag float up to the top, the usual. You messed with your spoon and then put it down. You turned to Scaramouche. "Are you sure you don't want tea? Maybe you've changed your mind?" You asked. He stared at the ground. How did you change your attitude in a span of a few seconds? "Scara?" You asked again. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he just shook his head. You stared at him. Then it dawned on you.

You quickly went back to him, standing in front of him. He looked at you right away, scared that you'll tell him to speak again. "Oh God, I'm sorry, did I hold your wrist too tight?? Did I say something wrong?? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" you quickly started rambling. Scara stared at you in confusion. "What? No, no, you didn't hurt me- Where the fuck did you get that?" He furrowed his brows. "I don't know, you went quiet??" You shrugged, staring at him. Then he realized that you don't know the effect that your actions had on him. You two stared at each other. You looked away for a moment, then you started to walk back to your tea, but Scara caught your wrist and pulled you back. "Did I do someth-" "Am I really..?" He interrupted you. You looked at him. He was staring somewhere else. "What do you mean?" You asked, standing in front of him again. He took his hand away from your wrist. "What you said previously. Am I really.. you know-" he glanced at you before looking away again. You thought to yourself. Wait.. oh.

Your smirk was back. "Say it." You spoke and watched as Scara bit his lip for a second, turning his head away. "Am I really.. ugh." He felt his cheeks flush. "Come on, I know you can say it," you leaned closer to him. He was getting more anxious. "Am I really a- fuck. Am I really a good boy?" He quickly said, feeling the embarrassment wash over. You laughed a little, your hand going to his jaw. You turned his head towards you, his eyes still not meeting yours. "Look at me, Scara," you simply said, just like before. His eyes meet yours. "Yes," you started, your other hand going to his chest, fingers slowly sliding down, "you are a good boy." You could feel his heartbeat quicken. Nervous eyes staring into yours. "You want me to say it again?" Your fingers stopped at his stomach. He felt his dick twitch again. He blinked at you, glancing away from time to time, but not fully looking away. "Scara, tell me," you asked again. "Please," he whispered, eyes fixating on the ground.

"You'll have to try better than that," your fingers went back to his chest and you watched him look back at you. "No, please-" he repeated a bit louder. You smiled and he glanced away again. "There's no need to be ashamed, it's just us here, you know," you said, tilting your head to the side. Scara rolled his eyes, "Shut up." You pulled him a bit towards you by his jaw, causing him to look at you with a gasp. Your smile was gone. "I thought you wanted to be called a good boy, no?" You blinked at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, again. He just stared. "So you don't want me to call you that? You could have just said that earlier, you know," you looked away, looking bored. "No, please, please-" he started, but you cut him off with a stare. "What? Please what? Tell me." You put your attention on him again. He gulped, forcing himself to stare back at you, "please call me that, please-" "Call you what?" "Please call me a good boy, please, fuck-" He was getting desperate, you could tell. And you wanted to drag him further. "Not with that language," you lidded your eyes again. He exhaled, staring into your eyes intensively. "Please, please call me a good boy, for f- ugh, please," Scara started rambling in embarrassment, "mommy, just call me a good boy, please-"

"What was that?"

It went silent. He watched you slowly smirk as he realized what he said. "I-" he started, but nothing else came out. Fuck. "You want mommy to call you a good boy?" You whispered. He was desperate, nodding immediately, but you held his jaw. "Use your words, Scara." You pointed out. He wanted to curse himself for being so desperate for you. "Yes, please call me a good boy, please, m- ah, mommy-" he quickly spoke, eyes digging into yours. It went silent. His eyebrows were furrowed, face flushed — desperate. You slowly blinked at him. Then you went closer to his ear and spoke to him in a whisper.

"Good boy."

You heard him exhale. Your hand released his jaw. Your other hand went down his chest to the tent in his pants that already had a wet spot at the top. You heard him let out a surprised gasp. You pressed a few kisses on his neck, before pulling away to look at him. Scara's chest was rising while your hand circled his tip through his pants. You watched as his hand went to his mouth, loudly exhaling again. You looked down. You quickly got his pants down to his knees, staring at his boxers that were dark at a certain spot. You then pulled his boxers down just enough for his dick to be out. Scara was starting to feel dizzy, the feeling of his dick being free, your intense stare in his eyes. You quickly took his hand that was by his mouth and pulled it away from his mouth. "Don't do that, got it?" You told him. He quickly nodded. You stared. He licked his lips before responding, "yes, mommy-" You nodded, "Good boy." You noticed his dick twitch at that. It made you feel so powerful.

You let go of his hand, meanwhile your other hand slid down his chest to his thigh. You brought your finger to his tip, circling it, smearing his precum. He made a noise at that, bucking his hips. You took your hand away, looking at him. "If you're going to do that, I won't touch you." You warned. His eyes widened, "please don't, don't do that, please-" You nodded and went back to his dick. You wrapped your hand around and started to slowly slide it up, then back down, coating his dick with some precum. He whined, "please, please-" "Be patient, puppy," you responded, not removing your eyes from his dick. Slowly you picked up the pace. Then you looked at him. His eyes were shut, there was drool starting to slide down his chin. "Scara, look at me, open your eyes," you commanded. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. You made eye contact. Fuck, he looked so submissive. You increased the speed, jerking his dick quicker, starting to make wet sounds from his precum. He moaned, head going back, more broken moans falling from his mouth.

"Scara, I told you to look at me," you reminded. He lifted his head back up, trying to look back at you. You giggled, "Good boy. Tell me how it feels, won't you?" Sweat was appearing on his skin, drool out his mouth. He started to speak, but that's when you started jerking around his tip. He moaned louder, tears starting to prick at his eyes. "Come on, tell me how good it feels," you whisper. "A-ah- f-feels good, fuck-! Oh my god, fuck, it feelssogood fuck, mommy-" Scara tried his best, but fuck did it feel good. You went closer, pressing your lips against his, indulging him in a kiss. His hands immediately clutched at your shirt while you drunk his moans. Your hand sped up, focusing on his whole shaft. More precum went down, making even more wet noises. You pushed your tongue against his, he kissed back messy. Then, you heard his moans becoming quicker, his hands clutching you tighter.

You pulled away from the kiss, licking your lips, staring down at him. "Gonna cum, puppy?" You asked and he nodded, staring up at you. Your hand started slowing down as you raised your eyebrow. He whined, "no, please, I'm close, please don't slow down, pleasepleaseplease-" "That's right, good boy," you went quicker, staring at his ruined state. His head fell back and his moans increased in volume. You could hear him say 'please' multiple times in a row. Then his head came back, looking into your eyes, begging you to not stop. You looked down at his dick, then looked back at him. You leaned into his neck to press a few kisses, while Scara placed his head on your shoulder, his hands going to your back, gripping the material again. "I'm- I'm gonnacum, a-ah, fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum I'mgonnacum please-" His breathing was heavy. "Then cum, go on," you whispered, "be a good boy and cum for me." That was the final push.

A loud moan went through his throat as he came. You looked down, watching his cum stain his shirt, drop on your hand, slide down to his thighs. After a few seconds, you started slowing your hand down. You could feel him shake, his breathing heavy again. Then your hand stopped. You kissed his neck while he breathed in your shoulder, calming down. Scara's head was spinning, he felt like he might pass out. Drool and tears had stained your shirt a bit. After a minute you felt him release your shirt. You pulled away, taking your hand away too. You looked at Scara. His eyes were unfocused, mouth still open, face hot, drool and tears. He looked so pretty, so ruined — it made you feel powerful, how you managed to somehow get him like this.

You broke the silence, asking, "Scara, are you alright?" You watched as he looked at you. "..I'm okay." He finally said, blinking at you. You smiled slightly, rubbing a few of his tears away with your clean hand. He was silent, staring at you. You stood up straight and looked at your other hand. You licked a bit off from your fingers, swallowing down. Scara stared, eyes slightly widening. No way he found that hot. "Alright, I'll get some tissues, wait here," you quickly said and walked to the bathroom. You washed your hands first.

Scara was zoning out, thinking of what the fuck just happened. He can't believe that he got so damn desperate for you, that he let that name slip out. He shook his head, looking down at himself. Yeah, he'll have to put this in the wash for sure. Then he heard noise, turning his head to it. You walked in with tissues and a slightly wet towel. You put down the towel on the island and took a few tissues. You took Scara's chin, holding his head up. With your other hand, you cleaned away his drool and a few wet tears. He couldn't stop staring at you. You noticed and just smiled at him.

Then you took your hand away from his jaw, looking down at his dick. You pushed his boxers a bit more away and cleaned the cum off his thighs with the tissue. Then you took another one, continuing to clean around. Then you carefully got to his shaft, then tried to get a few stains off from his shirt. After that you put the tissues away, taking the wet towel. You cleaned his thighs and areas again. Scara bit his lips, you were gentle. You put everything away and went to throw out the tissues.

"I think we should put a few of your clothes to wash, don't you think?" You asked, coming back. He nodded, but stopped mid-nod and responded, "Yeah, right." "Take your shirt off, I'll get you a new one," you smiled, running to a room. He felt his cheeks get hot again. He loved this, even if it made him very embarrassed. He slowly took his shirt off, then you ran back into the room. "Um, I got you clean boxers as well, if you don't mind-" you spoke, putting down the clothing on the chair next to him. He stayed silent, handing you his shirt. You took it and went to quickly put it in the washing machine. He took his pants and boxers off. He took the shirt and boxers that you got him and put them on.

When you came back, he was already holding his clothing in hand for you. "Did it get stained too?" You asked, taking them. He just looked away from your gaze, "just in case." You nodded and went to also put them in the wash. He could hear you pressing a few buttons and the machine starting to work. When you came back, Scara was still staring somewhere else. You stood in front of him.

"I'm sorry," you broke the silence. He immediately looked at you, face showing confusion. "Why the fuck are you sorry?" He asked. "You know," you messed with your shirt, "I kind of didn't really ask if you wanted me to do.. that, so- I understand if you're mad." He blinked at you. "You're a fool to think that," he replied, "I'm not mad. I'm.. surprised, I guess." "Why?" You stared back at him. Silence.

Scara stared at you. "Well, first of all-" he coughed, "you turned me on in the worst way possible." He looked away from you, feeling his face get hot more. "You made me beg for you, you- fuck. You.. goddammit, you made me fucking desperate." He felt the shame again. Silence. He started feeling nervous, for some reason. You quietly asked, "Did you hate it..?" He looked back at you, "No I didn't, I fucking loved it, idiot." "You loved me being controlling??" You asked again. He stared. He started thinking. "Well, if.. if that was that, then- um, I guess?" He shrugged. Silence, again.

You slightly smiled, "I'll make note of that." You leaned your head closer to him and he immediately kissed you. You kissed back, putting your hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you closer. You two made out, your thumb rubbing his cheek. Then you pulled away for a breath, but he pulled you back again. You slid your tongue against his, a muffled noise from Scara. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss, breathing on your lips. "You made me so desperate, you have no idea," he quickly whispered before kissing you again. You felt his hands clutch your shirt, pulling away again. "You made me- fuck, you made me-" he couldn't put into words. He wanted to kiss you again, but you put a finger to his lips.

You stared into his eyes, "I made you call me mommy?" He breathed out a 'yes'. "I made you obey me?" You continued, lidding your eyes. He breathed out another 'yes'. "I made you finish so hard, that you were shaking against me?" You put your hand back on his cheek. He whined out a 'yes.' You put your lips against him again, he kissed back immediately. You two made out for a while, some muffled noises from the man. Then you pulled away, pressing a finger on his lips again. "Let's go to bed. It's late and I want you to get rest, okay?" You spoke in a soft tone. He nodded. "We can continue tomorrow," you continued, taking your hands away from him. He did the same. You smiled at him. "Thank you," he mumbled so quietly you almost didn't hear him. "You're welcome, Scaramouche," you chuckled at his expression. "Jeez, so formal," he rolled his eyes. You laughed and then your eyes caught something.

A cup. With already cold water.

"Oh my god," you said out loud, Scara sending you a confused gaze, "I forgot about my tea." He turned his head to where you were staring and yep, your cup is there with your forgotten teabag. "..I'll heat it up and drink it, you can go to bed," you said, rubbing your forehead. He stood up and looked at you, wanting to say something, but didn't. He just stared, might slightly agape. You looked at him again. "You want me to tuck you in?" You smirked, a giggle coming from you. He widened his eyes, looking away, "no, fuck you." He started walking away and you followed him. Scara went into his room and turned around. "I thought you're making tea?" He raised his eyebrows at you. You nodded, "Yeah, I will. I just want to say goodnight."

"Well, you just said it, you can go now," he motioned his hand at you. "Get in your bed first," you said. He just rolled his eyes, "I was going to do that anyways." He walks to his bed and turns on the light on the nightstand. He sat on his bed, staring at you, arms crossed. You walked over to him, leaned down and pushed him down on the bed. He gasped and you kissed him. His heart started beating more again, feeling you move your lips against his. He got that feeling again. His hands went to your shirt, pulling you more. Your fingers ghosted on his arm, leaving behind goosebumps on his skin. He felt your knee press against his crotch and he moaned in surprise.

That was unintentional — you didn't realize where you placed your legs. You pulled away and smiled down at him. Scara started back. "Goodnight, Scara," you said, leaning into his neck, "Good boy." Then you got off him and left the room, waving at him before closing the door. He stared at the door. He ran a hand through his hair, then along his face. Scara got under the covers, trying to ignore the feeling, trying to ignore the need for your touch again.

You just went to heat up your tea. Microwave beeps, teabag out, a bit of honey in your cup, mix it. You sat down and enjoyed your drink, slowly. You put down your cup, staring at the surface, recalling what happened. It made you feel hot, just like before.

"And it started with him being jealous, huh?" You mumbled, taking a sip again. "Live laugh Scaramouche." You chuckled, finishing your drink.

© h0ney-mochi 2022 ; 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[imperatorrrrr]

T!! in honour!! of Nico Natural Hatty!!! tell us your top 3 pieces of Nico lore 🥹🥹🥹 (someone hand this man the whole world he deserves it 💗💗💗💗💗💗)

this is late, but do I ever answer an ask on time? (no, no I don't)

T's Top Three Favorite Nico Hischier Lore Drops:

Nico Hischier did not have his New Jersey driver's license his first couple of seasons playing on the New Jersey Devils. - Nico got his Nova Scotia driver's permit while living with a billet family in Halifax when he played for the Mooseheads from 2016-2017, and got his license in Switzerland in the summer of 2017, but he didn't have his New Jersey driver's license his rookie season. You know who else didn't have their license? Jesper Bratt. So Nico and Jesp used to go to the rink every day with Pavel Zacha (Pav) and Blake Coleman (Pickles). They would drive these two to and from the rink every day. Nico and Jesp were relegated to the back seat which they would refer to as "the couch". This carpooling also gave us some of my favorite Nico videos of him playing Swiss rap in the car and annoying the shit out of his teammates. Nico did not get his New Jersey license until early 2019 if anyone is wondering.

Nico Hischier is always late. - so I don't know if this is still true, but one of Nico's biggest things that his teammates would chirp him about during his early seasons was how often he was late. If they're going somewhere or meeting up, he's always the last one to show up. Its nothing egregious, just five minutes late here and there. This has a lot to do with the fact that he is not a morning person whatsoever, so when he'd be meeting up with someone to go to practice or something he's usually late because it takes him a bit to get up in the morning. There's a story from his rookie season where some of the guys started doing special fines for Nico when he was late and he'd have to hand whoever he left waiting like five bucks each. I don't know if this still holds true. I bet his Captainly instincts have kicked in by now.

If Nico Hischier didn't follow through with his hockey career, he would have finished school and continued onto university. - In an interview with his brother early on in his career when he was asked what he would have done if he didn't have hockey, Nico said he would have finished his schooling and gone to university. His favorite/best subjects in school were the languages. And if he wasn't a hockey player he said he would maybe be a teacher. When Nico was out for about a month last season due to his injury, he got into the Roman Empire and history documentaries/history in general due to the "How often do men think about the Roman Empire" meme. He also has a soft spot for history related shows with Peaky Blinders and Vikings Valhalla being some of his television choices. I just love the idea of nerd adjacent Nico. He's talked a lot about wanting to always be learning and I haven't been able to get post-hockey Nico returning to school. And now that we've learned that he likes to talk philosophy with his mother!

Honorable Mention: Nico Hischier and Jack Hughes and their pre-game three hour naps when they were road roomies Jack's rookie year.

[skyenish]

Mr. Loverman | Scarabia animatic 🐍☀️

——

Something something happy pride month

(Ramble under the cut)

Since I’m drawing Jamil and Kalim to like every romance song in existence, of course I had to draw them to mr. Lovernan; its only natural! And this song fits them so well too… the ways that Kalim talks to Jamil are so sickenly sweet and loving, they make Jamil wish he was gone. I think it’s so perfect to have that one voiceline where Kalim says Jamil’s name, but not with his usual trust or love or kindness, but rather with disbelief, fear, and confusion. That way the song can have a double meaning for them! Kalim’s sweet words make Jamil sick, but when Jamil’s plans fell apart and Kalim called out for him, confused and refusing to believe that his closest companion would betray him, it still makes Jamil’s stomach churn. I bet that sometimes Jamil wishes Kalim could just shut up.

But Jamil still cares about Kalim, still remembers when they were friends. Their relationship is complex, and though he hates it, I think he still does love and care deeply about Kalim, but all those feelings are just in a very weird and difficult place. I absolutely adore that double meaning! The ways in which Kalim talks to Jamil makes Jamil feel a lot of things, negative, positive, and he hates it. But “wishing i were gone” and “running on and on” can apply to both his negative feelings of desperation, hatred, loathing and disgust, and also those feelings that deep inside make him wish their situations were different, that things didn’t end up like this. Jamil lies a lot, also to himself, and all his feelings are so tangled and stuck (dude is super emotionally constipated and needs therapy fr). I LOVE the character development Jamil and Kalim got in book 6 and 7, because they’re slowly making their way towards building a healthier, mutual relationship, and I’m so happy for them! I will be eagerly awaiting the day their relationship is fixed, and they’re happy with themselves, eachother, and life

As always, please remember that these are just MY interpretations of and takes on these characters! If you disagree or want to share your own interpretations, thats valid, and please do share! I love to read analysises and rambles! :)

——

Drawing has been really difficult again; im busy with school and I can’t get myself motivated to draw. Social Media has also been bumming me out. I’m really sensitive, and there’s been a lot of negativity on my fyps and timelines, which has just killed my mood. Good news also though- the twst anime finally got a release date??! I have been waiting for this for YEARS, and I can’t wait to see our boys animated and for the fandom to grow and for new merch! There’ll be so much more cool fanart, new character discussions and analysises, new people who get to experience twst for the first time!

Kalim is such a cutie, he’s so fun to draw! (Until suddenly my hands decide they don’t know how to draw him anymore).

(GUYS HAVE YOU SEEN THE UPCOMING CATER CARD??? IM NOT OKAY HE LOOKS SO GOOD AFHAGSGDHJ)

[misctf]

Welcome to the Crew: Home for the Holidays

Hey everyone! Here is an indirect sequel to Welcome to the Crew to celebrate American Thanksgiving. Please reach out if you ever want to borrow any concepts to include in your own stories. Always happy to collaborate.

“They’re going to love you.” Sarah reassured, “Don’t worry.”

Jack nodded and smiled warmly at his girlfriend as they approached the front door to her parent’s home. The two college juniors had been dating for a little over a year now, and Jack was still madly in love. He never met a girl quite like Sarah. They had been friends since their first year of college, and their chemistry was instantaneous. She was everything he could want- smart, funny, adventurous, and absolutely stunning. He imagined he would ask her to marry him one day.

“I’m not, honestly.” He said, adjusting his collar, “I’m just happy I get to meet your family. They sound like incredible people.” Sarah smiled, “And I brought a secret weapon.” He said nodding to the Pyrex in his hand, “No one can resist my mom’s mashed potatoes.” He flashed her a confident grin- clearly proud of himself, “I mean, I’m not sure how good they’ll be. First time I ever made ‘em.” He laughed.

“You’re such a dork.” Sarah replied, rolling her eyes.

She knocked on the door and was greeted soon by her mother, who quickly pulled them into a firm hug.

“Oh Jack, we’re so happy to finally meet you!” She said, “My little Sarah wasn’t lying, you’re so handsome.”

Jack blushed as she continued to sing him praises. Sarah was right- he didn’t need to worry. Her mother already loved him. She beckoned them indoors and they followed her into the kitchen. Jack felt himself salivating at the smell of the cooking Thanksgiving meal.

“Oh you brought a dish?” Sarah’s mom said, “What a kind thing to do.”

“Yeah of course. What kind of guest would I be if I showed up empty handed?” Jack smiled, “Do you need any...”

The sound of boisterous cheering and a cacophony of ‘let’s go!’ and ‘fuck yeahs!’ filled the air. Sarah’s mom groaned in embarrassment.

“They sure love their football.” she said, shaking her head, “And don’t you worry dear, I think we’ll be okay in here. Sarah’s aunt has been helping me out plenty.” She turned to Sarah, “You might as well introduce him to the boys.”

“It’s just down the hallway.” Sarah said, beckoning her boyfriend to follow.

“Oh Jack, you’re such a sweet young man. My Sarah is so lucky.” She gave him another hug.

Jack followed Sarah down the hall, where the sound of boisterous cheers became more audible. The young man remembered that Sarah had two older brothers, both of whom worked with their dad in some construction job. He just hoped they’d be as accepting of him as her mother.

“Don’t let them scare you.” Sarah said as they opened the door to the man cave.

“Oh shit, its Sarah!”

Her two brothers jumped up from the couch, nearly spilling their beers. Their massive beer guts jiggling as they stood, barely contained by their too tight t-shirts. They pulled Sarah into a tight hug, and Jack was afraid that these massive men might snap her in two. But when their drunken eyes landed on Jack, their smiles faded.

“Who’s this little guy?” One asked.

“This is Jack, my boyfriend.” Sarah replied.

“Looks kinda small.”

“Oh leave the boy alone.” Sarah’s dad said, still sitting on the couch, sipping his beer, “You like football?”

“I watch it from time to time.” Jack replied. He could see her brothers roll their eyes.

“Take a seat. Game is just getting good.” He continued.

Jack turned to Sarah, who rolled her eyes but gave him a nod. The young man smiled slightly and made his way over to the couch, where he was squeezed between Sarah’s dad and her two brothers.

“Tony, Al be nice.” Sarah warned, “That goes for you too, dad.”

The older man let out a deep chuckle that caused his massive gut to shake. He looked over at her and smiled, taking a sip of his beer. Jack watched as Sarah left and shut the door, leaving him trapped in the man cave. The young man shifting uncomfortably between the larger men, the smell of their B.O. and beers invading his nostrils.

“So, you’re dating our sister?” Tony asked, “You treating her well?”

“Of course.” Jack replied, “I...”

“You’re a bit smaller than her last boyfriend.” Al butted in, “God, Colin’s fuckin’ hilarious, you remember that guy?”

“Of course I do. I still go fishing with him.” Tony replied.

“Best pong player ever.” Al laughed, “Could outdrink all of us too, which is not easy.”

“He’s a hard worker.” Sarah’s dad contributed, “Glad I hired him.”

Tony nudged Jack, “You much of a drinker?”

“Not really.” Jack replied, trying his best to ignore their comments about Colin.

In fact, Jack never even tried alcohol. He never saw the appeal and Sarah seemed overjoyed to hear that he didn’t drink too. Seemed like a win-win to him. As for Colin, Sarah told him all he needed to know. He was an asshole- loud, boisterous, and immature. Someone he figured her brothers and father would enjoy.

“Not really? Aw come on, little guy.” Tony said, “Pops, grab him a beer.”

Jack tried to politely decline, but Sarah’s dad fished a beer from the cooler and tossed it to him. He caught it and inspected it closely. It was brown- the color of a football. Some guy in old football gear was on the front. But instead of holding a football, there was a can of Gridiron brew in his hands.

“I think I’m good...”

“Drink it.” Her dad said firmly.

Jack didn’t want to make a bad impression. And if drinking some stupid beer would win them over, then so be it.

“Just a sip.” He thought.

He opened the can and placed it to his lips. He could feel the cold liquid fill his stomach as he drank it. The taste nothing special, if anything, it tasted cheap.

“Oh shit dude, he just chugged it!” Tony laughed, “Let’s go!”

“Did I really?” Jack mumbled, realizing the can was empty, “I burrrppppppppppp.” Jack’s eyes widened and his face flushed with embarrassment, “Ugh I burrrrrrrrrppppppppppppp.”

“Fuck, nice one dude.” Al patted him on the back.

“Yeah, let that shit out.” Tony continued.

But Jack’s eyes were wide with terror. He felt like his entire body was heating up, sweat starting to drip down his face. His mind racing- he drank beer before and never had a reaction like this.

“I think I might be allerg... burrrppppppppppp.”

He could hear Tony and Al’s laughter fill the air. Sarah’s dad continued to stare at the game ahead of him, seemingly unbothered. Jack was hyperventilating now. And despite knowing he shouldn’t, he undid the buttons on his shirt and threw it aside, desperately hoping to cool down.

“Yeah, take it off bro!”

The button down wasn’t enough and Jack peeled off his sweat-soaked undershirt, revealing his lean, firm musculature from years of swimming. He let out a gasp as he watched his taut abs vibrating and his stomach churning, his youthful skin glistening with sweat.

“Please, I need help...” He gasped, closing his eyes tightly as his stomach churned.

He placed a hand to his abs, but instead of their normal firmness, he felt his hand sink into soft flesh. His eyes shot open and he looked down at the pudge that now hid his abs. Feeling the new softness, he let out a gasp as his stomach pushed out again. And again. And again. The growing mass that was once his hard-earned six-pack hung over his waistline, jiggling with each small movement. Jack’s eyes were wide as he pushed against it, almost as if he was willing it to retract.

“Oh my god...” He grunted, realizing as he looked over at Sarah’s brothers that his gut matched theirs, “No, no, no buurrppppppp.”

This time, his lean pecs plumped up with fat, sagging and resting comfortably on his new gut. He winced as adipose rapidly expanded in his legs, arms, and ass- covering his lean musculature in a healthy padding of thick fat proportional to his midsection. Even his once angular and handsome face puffed up with chub, rounding out his previously strong jawline.

“Lookin’ good beanpole.” Al laughed, poking at Jack’s new gut.

“Not much of a beanpole anymore.” Tony replied.

Jack looked back and forth between them, tears stinging his eyes, “Please... please stop this... I’ll do anythaaahhhhhhh.”

Jack scratched desperately at his chest and belly as a rush of testosterone was ravaged his body. His well groomed, light chest hairs darkened and sprouted into a matted, sweaty, curly bush. His dick hairs were not spared as they sprouted into an untamed, musky mess that quickly ascended his entire belly and joined his chest hairs. Jack flung his head back as hairs sprouted from his now round face, forming a messy beard. The young man groaned again as his skin sagged a bit more with age, growing more leathery with each passing second. He placed a hand on his hairy abdomen as he breathed heavily. In and out. In and out. Slowly, Jack opened his eyes, the horror of his ordeal being painfully confirmed.

“What....”

He had so many questions, so many horrifying thoughts. But then he saw it. On the TV screen. He watched as one of the players expertly maneuvered around the defense. Running down the field. The announcers freaking out, growing more excited. And when that player scored a touchdown, Jack jumped up from his seat.

“Fuck yeah, bros! Did you just fuckin’ see that!?” His boisterous yell shook the house and he fist-bumped Tony and Al, “Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!” He collapsed back onto the chair and grinned, “I did the same shit in high school when I played, ya know.” He continued, “Could’ve gone pro too if I wanted.”

Memories of track and college quickly shifted to fit Jack’s new reality. His eyes dulling as years of education vanished and his IQ dropped considerably. The previously well-mannered young man vanishing into a sea of burps, sports, and lost dreams.

“Sure big guy.” Tony said, sipping his beer.

“No for real, dude. I...” His brain paused as he tried to remember details of his life, “Whatever, you’ll just have to believe me.”

The door to the man cave suddenly swung open, revealing the women of the house. Sarah in particular looked livid, her face morphing into a look of horror as she gazed upon the unfamiliar man sitting between her brothers.

“Jack?” Her eyes widened as she gazed upon her boyfriend, “Oh my god, Jack? Is that you?”

“What’s up?” Jack chuckled, “Grab me a beer, would ya babe?”

“Dad, you didn’t!” She shouted, “This is just like Colin.” She stormed away, tears stinging her eyes.

“Geez what’s wrong with her? Women, am I right?” Jack let out another burp, and fist bumped his bros as he stood and grabbed another can of his new favorite brew.  

Sarah’s mom and aunt quickly went to go comfort Sarah. Meanwhile, the boys continued shouting at the TV screen, their burps and cheers echoing through the house- Jack remaining blissfully oblivious to the life he once lived. And as the game wound down, Sarah’s dad turned to him.

“So boy, you want a job workin’ for me?”

Jack was more than happy to accept.

[melancholicstation]

FRAT!JACK SCHLOSSBERG SFW AND NSFW HEADCANONS

imagining COLLEGE SWEETHEART!READER who loves the outdoors, is the best in her harvard polo team, is a criterion channel SNOB, spencer hasting's archetype, vacations in miami, aspen, ibiza and saint tropez, is the president of many student clubs, buys hermēs blankets for the dogs kennel blanket and keeps an elegant stack of erotic, cheesy novellas under her .

tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

fyi: I have not edited this nor looked over it too closely so if there's spelling/grammar mistakes je m'excuse please!!

you cross each other's paths at institut le rosey in year 13 because you guys are unfortunately wealthy teenagers of highly successful family dynasties so it'd be sacrilegious to go anywhere else... where else would they go to get their educational chops that they can brag about at dinner parties?

super rich kids by frank ocean is both of your respective spotify wrapped no.1 song

you guys don't formally meet until harvard law school

always immediately goes to you for any fraternity parties where they need to be all gussied up for it and whines until you do his makeup... and of course he wants you to use your expensive chanel, byredo, chantecaille make up

jack uses your own la perla thongs as bookmarks to keep track of a certain page in a law textbook when studying at your place cause he left all his stationary at home

when you both found each other you guys were both in your slut era and weren't looking for anything serious

tries to make you beef tartar in the confines of your tiny dorm like this one chick on tiktok does in her bed

after a couple days of not seeing each other jack comes back with little gifts and trinkets cause he has the instinct to gather in his bones, baby!

you both eat like a 17th century king despite being college students

classes were cancelled for a day due to a particularly aggressive blizzard that sought to reek havoc on anyone in its path--or in this instance trying to get to their econ major on time for once so you two are held up in your dorm end up watching 'secretary' (2002), one thing leads to another and you and jack's have ended up recreating this scene except jack is lee... and the saddle is an old hermēs vivace jumping saddle that you got for an early christmas present one year back (something like this) and the carrot is slightly dirty cause its been in your farmers market tote since your last run to whole foods... but you both enjoy it all the same cause you guys are F.R.E.A.K.I.S.H.

he has a very intense samurai sword obsession to the point where his dorm closet holds all the medals he won for the best sword in local competitions... and gets extremely territorial if you want a drawer in his closet cause where are the synthetic fabric medals supposed to go??

always buys you lingerie whenever ssense has a sale

you both buy each other maison margiela shoes for a joint graduation present from law school

you both always have a ritual of buying mint and lavender lemonade at different harvard athletic games

you guys broke up briefly during mid term hell-week and you genuinely observed him re-connecting with nature in the harvard yard to ease his anguish

you guys practice parenthood by adopting a few sylvanian families and putting them in a house

your matching boat n' totes (top: yours bottom: jack)

on holiday break from college you guys go on so many sketchy facebook marketplace hunts to the point where jack films with his phone just for evidence purposes

your dream that makes you crash out over imessage to jack:

NSFW UNDER THIS CUT 🧵✂️

he definitely wears a hat while you guys are fucking making beautiful sensual love

foreplay is stimulating conversations with jack

as foreplay you make jack recreate that one cmbyn timothee chalamet scene with the peach

eroticising studying and giving each other orgasms when you've memorised a topic correctly

two beers at a beer garden and you guys are in each others pants immediately. stat!

they are delicately perverted

he loves giving you some clavicle kisses... like that is his shit!

jack loves to be lightly tapped with the hermēs crop but he'd never admit it what?? who said that??

[fluffypotatey]

More Things I Noticed on My 3rd Watch!

Javi, as a tribute to Jeb, has Scarecrow be his second (THIRD WATCH JUST CONFIRMS IT!!!! AND THIS IS WHYYYYYY SCOTT MADE NO SENSE AS SCARECROW BC TIN MAN FUTS HIM BETTER BUT ITS A TRIBUTE TO JEB!!!)

Dani and Dexter parking in a safer spot for their fans to watch the tornado (like i did know this but seeing it again just really solidified to me that this was clue #1 the Wranglers were more than they seemed)

“SING IT BEN!”

Tyler thinks Kate only experienced 2 tornadoes and thought to take her to a rodeo (no yeah we been knew but like it’s sO fucking funny)

Javi is always looking at Kate with are when she’s doing her thing and I just think that’s neat

Javi is terrified of Kate interacting with Riggs (we BEEN knew BUT LISTEN!!! listen, okay so, Riggs treats her like a little girl when they first meet— “that twister must have been scary!”— and he is aware of Riggs even tho he’s in denial of it. so allowing her to meet Riggs, to talk to Riggs, will just confirm all his fears)

oh yeah, Lily totally overheard Kate and Tyler’s conversation (100% no one can tell me differently)

Javi, team leader, assigned himself as the Cowardly Lion yet is the one putting himself as the one facing the front of the tornado (isn’t that funny :) isn’t that grand :) ain’t that just….awesome :) that he was the guy who held back, the wizard of Team Tornado Tamers. that he views himself as the Cowardly Lion of the group and to redeem himself, he puts himself in the most dangerous position)

her mom calls her Katy

Sapulpa is 1 hour away from Stillwater

how long was Tyler in that barn? how long did it take him to notice the team photo?

Tyler is so down bad it’s embarrassing (yeah we know however it must be taken note of. he’s HORRIBLY DOWN BAD)

They went to Enid for test #1

Tyler and Kate nerding out 🥰

“He’s wants to kiss her so bad,” <- my sister

Kate’s barrels 🥺

OT3 is real because Kate offered both hands

Tyler is so upset that he can’t insult the Storm Par models lmao

i love that they call it the Goldilocks principle

Boone just jumping to different people to explain in layman’s terms what they’re doing 🥺

Scott’s jealousy is so fucking funny

OT3 is real

Javi noticing Kate’s disappearance but Tyler knows what Kate means to do 🫠

things i noted on my 2nd watch of Twisters (2024)

where each song from the soundtrack plays (idk how many times i listened to it but y’all there was hell or high water playing at the diner when Javi was talking to Riggs and i felt like my third eye opened lmaooooo)

Dexter nerding out over everything (noticed this before but like 🥰🤧 this old man has my heart y’all 🥺 do you see how excited he gets mapping out the terrain and remembering which tornado effect is which???? yeah sure he probably never went to university or finished high school but you can see his love for learning and education and i bet he read every book in every library he visits)

white shirt OT3 o7 (Kate begins the white shirt effect and then it switches to Tyler and switches back to Kate then switches to Javi which switches to Tyler at the end. now, you could argue that Javi begins the white shirt effect bc Storm Par includes white shirts in their uniforms but NO! because they’re polos AND Javi wears the blue and black uniform. so truly the real argument would be Scott wore it but he’s separate from the OT3 and is meant to draw Javi away unlike Kate and Tyler and in this essay—)

Boone not answering Tyler calls (like, last time i did see when Tyler was asking Boone for forgiveness when he chased a tornado with Kate instead of Boone but the fact that Tyler only called Lily because Boone wasn’t answering just adds to that lmao)

Tyler being all shy and sweet with Kate (yeah i saw it before last time but like 🥺 he’s such a sweetie with his little crush and little smile and trying to act all cool asking for her opinion about where the twister is like 🤧🤧 adorable)

Lily teasing and being a great wingman (calling out his red face and handing Kate the food. and ok, yeah, sure, it’s a lot more likely that she didn’t see Kate and Tyler have a mini argument where Kate assumes the worst of them, but i like to think she saw how it ended and decided to clear the air her own way)

Benjamin Shopshire III (100% laughed when i read that name, i’m so sorry Ben lmao)

Mrs Carter’s narrative similarities to Aunt Meg (bbq & steak and eggs; team loving protag’s relative; not taking protag’s bs)

dead bf’s name is Jeb not Jeff (pretty sure that’s short for something but i have never heard of a Jeb before)

Tyler complimenting Javi’s radar (solely for OT3 purposes)

“Storm Par” & “Owens” (very much the when a name begins toned derogatory but ends the story affectionate)

they never specify which branch of the military Javi’s from (…….it’s free real estate)

Never Left Me plays when Javi and Kate are driving into Oklahoma (very much seals the “there was a time i’d do anything for you” quote)

but yeah there’s some. imma be letting it all soak in my brain while i rot ✌️

[autonomousroboticorganism]

period madness (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader

summary - your Cybertronian partner finds out just what a human woman's period entails.

warnings - none

a/n - Knock Out's takes place when he defects to the Autobots. also, don't fight me, these are based on my experiences and what helps me.

OPTIMUS PRIME - cramps

While he may not fully understand what's going on and what's happening to your body, he is still extremely attentive and supportive. He is there to provide any comfort you need, and will not hesitate to take one of the other humans out to a convenience store if you need anything. He knows when it's that time of the month because he'll walk into base after another mission and see you laying face-down on the couch.

"Are you okay, (Name)?"

An unintelligible grumble from you was the only response, before Miko spoke for you, "Her cramps are bad this month. Really bad."

Optimus looked back at your figure, then reached over the railing to carefully lift you into one of his servos, ever the gentle giant. If there was one thing he did know during this time, it was that you were somewhat appeased by warmth.

"How was the mission?" You finally looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears from the pain.

"I shall tell you all about it when you are warm and comfortable," the Prime replied, taking you to his room in the base and laying on his berth. He lay you on top of him, right over his spark where it was warmest. "Is this better?"

"Mhmm, much," you sighed in relief and satisfaction, curling up on his warm chassis. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he smiled, happy that your pain was eased, if only slightly. "Today was quiet, no sign of Decepticon activity. We found an empty Energon mine that had been stripped entirely of its contents."

"Aw, man," you empathised, "I hope you guys find some soon. But I welcome a quiet mission, as opposed to you going out and getting hurt."

It warmed his spark to know that even while you were in pain, you still worried about him getting hurt. He knew you cared very much for him and the team, but he was unaware it was to this extent. He carried on with his story, explaining how they had found something more disturbing than an Energon mine filled with cons. You listened intently despite being overwhelmed by pain in your uterus, happy to be distracted by one of his tales. And it always helped that you liked to listen to his deep voice, because it was soothing to hear.

BUMBLEBEE - emotional

Bumblebee knows a bit more than Optimus, but less than he feels he needs to. So a few days before your period, when you exhibit the warning signs, he asks Miko - with Raf as translator - to help him with research on the topic so he's better prepared to help you. He doesn't want to let you know he does this, but you know and you think it's very cute. And sweet.

He knows when you have it, because on your first day you storm into base looking for him and you cling to him like a little koala. He has no complaints of course, until you end up crying into his arm.

Immediately he's concerned, his little beeps translating in your mind to 'are you okay?' Apart from Raf, you were the only human who could understand what he was saying. Neither of you knew why, but it was so convenient and a happy coincidence that you never questioned it.

"Today I saw a duck," you sobbed, "And you know, it reminded me that Jasper doesn't even have ducks because we don't have any lakes and..."

You rambled on and on, tearfully so, while Bumblebee shot Smokescreen a confused look. Your guardian shrugged.

"She's been emotional all day."

The scout turned his attention back on you and held you up, whirring and beeping in concern. You stopped whatever story you had launched into afterwards and looked at him, before your eyes lit up.

"Ice cream? That sounds great!"

Bumblebee beeped and whirred again, telling Smokescreen where you two were going before transforming and driving off with you. He played some of your favourite music, and eventually you calmed down enough to look at birds and not burst into tears.

Once you had your ice cream, he took you on a nice, long scenic drive. The long way back to the base. You relaxed in his passenger seat, happily eating your cold treat.

"Thanks, Bee," you smiled, "I can always count on you."

The scout beeped back that you're very welcome and he'd do anything for you. And he mentally thanked Raf and Miko for telling him that ice cream might be a good idea for mood swings.

SMOKESCREEN - cravings

The newbie is not as great with human beings as he'd like to be. He'd had to learn a lot since coming to earth, and one of those things was to navigate a relationship with a human being. One that was both his girlfriend and his charge. So throw periods into the mix and you have...a very very confused Autobot. He knows absolutely nothing about periods, stemming from his lack of knowledge about the human anatomy.

"So...why don't human guys bleed?"

"SMOKESCREEN!" You protest with a burning face. "You can't just ask that!"

"I...thought it was a valid question?"

You sighed, "Men don't menstruate because they don't have to have babies." At his clueless expression, you added, "They don't have to give life to what you call sparklings."

"Ohhhh..."

He still didn't understand. Nonetheless, he was eager to help. Anything you asked of him, he tripped over himself in his rush to do it. Anything you wanted or needed, he found a way to get for you. Hugs and kisses? Of course! Cuddles? He would never say no to that. He had grown so fond of and attached to you that he was even clingier than you were on your period. But you thought it was sweet.

"So it hurts...here?" The giant mech prodded your uterus, gently.

"Mhm," you nodded, devouring a slab of chocolate Jack had given to Smokescreen to give to you. "Hey, don't poke me!" You smacked his servo away.

"Sorry," his faceplates burned in embarrassment.

He watches you happily munch on your chocolate, amused that such a small thing could appease you when just moments ago you had been screaming at Ratchet for not knowing about female human anatomy.

KNOCK OUT - body pain

Knock Out knew humans were fragile. He's used that against the Autobots multiple times when he was a Decepticon. But now that he's become an Autobot, he has to be extra careful around you, Jack, Miko, Raf, June and Fowler. Especially you. But it seemed that every month you would go into a state where your body hurt for no reason at all, and it wasn't until June explained to Knock Out what you were experiencing that he finally understood.

"(Name)! Are you okay?!" The medic panicked, rushing to your side the moment he heard a pained whimper come from you.

You were trying to roll over on the couch, but sharp pain erupted in your lower back causing you to let out that sound. You looked up at your concerned boyfriend, pretty optics putting you at ease.

"Mhm, just really sore."

Knock Out looked at June in desperation, and the older woman laughed at the fact that he had once kidnapped her and forced her to play a crueler version of hide-and-seek, but now he was desperately seeking her medical advice.

"I'll get some painkillers and water that you can give her," the nurse stood to go retrieve those items.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked you in the meantime. Knock Out hated feeling useless, helpless, which was a side effect of being criticised so often.

"Pick me up?" You suggested.

The bot was more than happy to oblige, lifting you onto his servo with surprising gentleness. You happily laid on your back on the warm metal, sighing contentedly until your head started to hurt.

"Maybe also poke me in the head?"

"What?! I could kill you!"

"That's kind of the idea. My head is already doing that."

"I will not terminate the one good thing I've managed to earn, thank you very much," he insisted, cooling his free servo and pressing a non-lethal part of it to your temple. "That better?"

The pain in your skull receded, and your body relaxed, "Oh, much better. Thank you, Knock Out."

The bot beamed at the grateful response, "You're very welcome!"

June returned with the painkillers and a bottle of water, which Knock Out carefully handed to you with the servo he had used to ease your headache. He watched you intently as you took the medication, before lying back down on his palm.

"Now just hold me."

The former con eagerly obeyed that command, even taking you to his assigned room in the base and laying with you on top of him on his berth. He placed a servo over your smaller frame, practically blanketing you with it. He further eased your pain by slowly running it up and down your back, gently and affectionately caressing you. The mad doctor had truly changed for the better.

SOUNDWAVE - nausea

Soundwave had taken it upon himself to learn about humans when he'd first taken you. So he knew very well what the warning signs of anger, hunger and cramping meant. He was well-equipped to help you, because this bot is hardly ever ill-equipped for anything. He searches the human internet for things he can do to help ease your pain and make this uncomfortable period of time more bearable for you. So you usually find stuff you need and crave during your period already laid out on his berth when the first day comes.

The Decepticon walked into his berth one of those days to see you happily munching away on the snacks he'd gotten Laserbeak to acquire for you. Speaking of the little bird, you were laying atop one of its wings, and Soundwave always liked to see how comfortable you were around it.

But then a weird look came over your face, and you turned a little sickly. The bot worried that the snacks had done something to you, but you just set them down and curled up, breathing in and out deeply. Soundwave was by your side in a second, touching your shoulder in concern.

"I'm-I'm fine," you reassured him. "Sometimes I just get nauseous. And sometimes it's the snacks that I like that cause it. I can't explain it."

The silent Cybertronian nodded to say he understood, before scooping up into one servo and soothingly rubbing your back with the other. Then he handed you a sugary drink he'd also obtained for you, his screen showing you research saying that something sweet and fizzy might help.

You smiled at him and took the drink, taking a few sips and finding that he was right, "Thank you, Soundwave. I can always rely on you."

His screen showed something else now, a bright red heart. Your cheeks heated up, and your smile became flustered at the gesture. Despite being committed to not speaking at all, he could be expressive and sweet when he wanted to be. His actions always told you more than his screen did, though.

SHOCKWAVE - bodily insecurity/bloating

Like Knock Out and Ratchet, Shockwave is scientifically and biologically knowledgable. He's an expert in all things physical and mental. Unfortunately, he spent so much time on a dead Cybertron that he was completely helpless when he first got attached to you on earth. Fortunately, he was a quick learner and very studious. Meaning he found out pretty quickly what he was meant to do during a time like this. Though sometimes, you still confused him.

Like now, when he walked into the room to see you sitting in front of something that mirrored your reflection. You were frowning and poking your midsection, eyes becoming glassy and bottom lip trembling.

"What has happened?" The intimidating Decepticon approached. "Are you hurt?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm getting fatter!"

"..."

Shockwave was, well, shocked. He never thought once that you were a displeasing weight or size, and he would never mind or care if you were picking up weight. But in this case, it was not true.

"Little one, that is a most illogical statement," he picked you up with his one servo. "You are not looking any different."

"Then explain this!" You cried, poking your stomach again.

Once more, Shockwave failed to see the issue, "You are perfect, my little human. There is nothing wrong with you."

"You're just saying that!"

"Have you ever known me to lie?"

"No..."

"Then cease your worrying," he reassured you. "I understand that on your...period, as you humans call it, you may feel bloated. But that does not mean you have increased in size. It is normal, and it will go away."

That was...oddly comforting.

"Thank you, Shockwave. That means a lot coming from you."

"Good. Now stop crying, little one. I have something to show you."

WHEELJACK - anger/frustration

Wheeljack was generally a lot more sensitive and considerate towards you than anyone else on base, but that doesn't mean that he was perfect. There were times when he didn't mean to offend you or incite your fury, but his actions or words that just tumbled out of his mouth left you shaking. He wasn't aware of human periods until Miko told him about them when you'd first started dating him, but he still continued to piss you off.

"WILL YOU STOP FOR ONE SECOND!" You screamed at the Wrecker one day while you were lounging in front of the TV while watching Jack and Raf play video games.

Wheeljack and Bulkhead were lobbing a giant ball of metal around, as they tended to do every other week, and Bumblebee and Smokescreen had been tempted to join. They promptly changed their minds at the sound of your yell and the glare on your face.

"Sweetheart, we're just playing around," Wheeljack responded calmly, shrugging your attitude off. Bulkhead got nervous, though.

"Well could you go play somewhere else?!" You snarled, rubbing your temples. "You're making my headache even worse!" You were usually irritable on your period, so Wheeljack took this as a sign.

He sighed, "Would you stop being such a buzzkill?"

Dead silence. Everyone beside Wheeljack froze up, knowing that was exactly the wrong thing to say to you at this time. Your eyes narrowed, and you stood up so fast your head spun.

"Well if I'm a buzzkill then I'll just leave!" You spat, storming down the stairs while trying not to burst into tears. Both angry and sad.

"Sweetheart, I didn't mean that," the bot immediately regretted his words, spotting your glassy eyes. "Come here."

"Go away!"

He sighed and grabbed you before you could leave the base, "Where are you going to go? There's nothing but dirt outside this base, sweetheart."

"I'd rather walk across the desert than spend more time arguing with you," you grumbled.

"Alright, alright," he relented. "I'm sorry. Can I make it up to you? We'll go sit in my berthroom and I'll project your favourite movie onto the wall."

"...Fine."

Wheeljack was an idiot, and impulsive, but he sure knew how to charm his way back into your good books. He cuddled you and rubbed your uterus for you, getting help from Miko to get you snacks that would keep your temper at bay.

[wonlvures]

FALLING FOR YOU ୨୧ - SIM JAEYUN

PAIRING: idol!Jake x Idol!reader

SYNOPSIS: you and Jake secretly have a thing for each other when you guys are idols and have a secret relationship

GENRE: fluff, romance

AUTHORS NOTE: this was highly requested by a generous user!

Jake had always known that being an idol would come with its fair share of challenges—late nights, early mornings, grueling schedules, and fans who loved him unconditionally. But there was one thing he hadn’t expected when he first entered this world: to meet someone who didn’t seem to care about any of that.

It happened on the set of a variety show. Jake, along with his group, had been invited to participate in a cooking challenge against another group of idols, and Y/N was the one chosen to co-host and judge. She had been in the industry for a while, but not in the same group as Jake. He had seen her on TV, admired her work, but he never imagined their paths would cross in such a casual way.

The cameras rolled, and the challenge began. Jake, known for being a bit of a perfectionist, was focused on the task at hand, but there was something about the way Y/N smiled and teased the contestants that caught his attention. She was sharp, quick-witted, and radiated a warm, approachable energy that made everyone around her relax. Jake noticed, too, that she didn’t treat him like a star. While others hesitated or were overly polite, she was relaxed with him—like they were just two people doing their jobs.

During the break between filming, they ended up sitting next to each other. Y/N turned to him with a grin.

“You know, I’m actually kind of impressed by your cooking skills. I thought idols couldn’t cook.”

Jake laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I may not be a chef, but I can follow a recipe. Plus, I’ve been living on takeout too long. I had to learn something.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I totally get it. If I didn’t learn how to cook, I’d be living on ramen forever.”

As the conversation flowed easily, Jake realized just how down-to-earth she was. She didn’t talk about her fame or her achievements. Instead, she asked about his hobbies, his favorite food, and even complained about the exhaustion of being in the industry. It was refreshing. She wasn’t fawning over him, or putting him on a pedestal—she just treated him like a regular person, which, for Jake, felt rare.

When filming wrapped up, they exchanged numbers to keep in touch for future shows. Jake didn’t think much of it at the time—he figured it was just part of the job. But over the next few weeks, he found himself looking forward to her messages.

Their texts started off small—simple messages about scheduling, a funny meme here and there, or asking each other for advice about their upcoming performances. But something shifted as the days went on. They began to open up more. Y/N shared her worries about the pressures of being an idol—how fans’ expectations sometimes felt suffocating. Jake, in turn, confessed his own struggles with the constant demand to be perfect, to always smile, to always give his best even when he was running on empty.

It was during one of these late-night conversations that Jake found himself looking at his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard, uncertain of what to say. He had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but there was something about Y/N that made him want to.

He typed, then deleted, then typed again.

Jake: "I know we’ve only known each other a little while, but... I feel like I can actually be myself around you. And I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately."

Y/N’s response came just a few moments later.

Y/N: "Jake, I feel the same way. I’ve never really had a chance to connect with anyone like this in the industry. It’s... kind of nice."

Jake felt a weight lift off his chest. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was talking to someone who wasn’t interested in his status as an idol but in him—the person behind the image.

It wasn’t long before they started meeting up in person. Sometimes it was after a late-night show or a photoshoot, where they’d steal a few quiet moments for themselves. They didn’t have to go to fancy restaurants or glamorous locations. It was the small things that mattered—grabbing bubble tea together, walking around the park after a long day, or just sitting in a cafe and talking about everything and nothing at all.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day of filming, Jake texted her again.

Jake: "Hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to collapse. Want to meet up for a quick bite? Somewhere quiet?"

Y/N read the message and smiled, already feeling the same fatigue, but also the familiar pull of wanting to see him again. There was something comforting about being with Jake—something that allowed her to forget about the bright lights and the pressure for just a little while.

Y/N: "Sounds perfect. Meet you at the usual place?"

They met at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall that had become their spot. It was the kind of place where no one cared who they were or what they did for a living. No flashing cameras, no eager fans. Just food, laughter, and quiet moments together.

As they sat down, Jake looked at her across the table, watching the way she pushed her hair behind her ear, a habit she had when she was nervous or thinking.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Lately, I’ve realized I look forward to our conversations more than anything. It’s... it’s strange, but it feels different with you. Like I can finally relax.”

Y/N felt her heart flutter, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar warmth. She had thought about Jake a lot too—about how easy it was to talk to him, how much she enjoyed his presence, and how it felt like they were falling into something that was beyond just friendship.

“Jake,” she started, her voice a little more nervous than she intended, “I feel the same way. You’re... different from everyone else I’ve met. I feel like I can just be myself.”

There was a long pause, and Jake’s gaze softened. Then, almost as if he had been holding his breath, he leaned in slightly.

“Y/N, I like you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I—"

Before he could finish, Y/N reached across the table, placing her hand on his.

“I like you too,” she said, her smile genuine and a little shy. “I’ve been trying to figure out when the right moment would be to say it, but I guess... now’s as good a time as any.”

Jake laughed softly, the tension in his body releasing. He didn’t need to say anything more—he could see it in her eyes. They had both been tiptoeing around something that had always been there, and now, it felt like they had finally crossed that invisible line.

From that night forward, their relationship deepened. They still had their moments of uncertainty—moments when the pressure of being public figures weighed heavily on them. But through it all, they kept finding ways to support each other, even when the world seemed too loud or too demanding.

They continued to meet in secret, sharing quiet moments in the midst of their busy lives. Sometimes they would slip away for a quick coffee, other times they would sit in the park at night, talking about their hopes for the future, about what they wanted for themselves and each other.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N found herself waiting for Jake outside the practice room. When he stepped out, exhausted but smiling, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you always this tired?” she teased.

Jake grinned, his eyes bright despite the exhaustion. “Pretty much. But it’s worth it when I get to see you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart flutter once again. It was in moments like these that she realized how much they had changed each other—not as idols, but as people. Jake wasn’t just the idol she had admired from afar; he was someone she could trust, someone who understood the difficulties of their world and who was willing to take the time to show her that there was more to life than just the spotlight.

And as for Jake, he had never imagined that something so simple, so pure, could grow out of the chaos of their shared world. But with Y/N by his side, he began to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for love to bloom amid the flashing cameras and the noise.

Their love wasn’t something they shouted from rooftops or shared on social media—it was something they kept close, something between the two of them. But in their hearts, it was more than enough.

Together, they learned that sometimes the most unexpected connections are the ones that last the longest.

[morthstaar]

Please, PLEASE Tulpar crew x a very shy/introverted reader who is like crushing on the crew really hard but way too shy and embarrassed to tell them but like the crew starts to slowly catch on to them and the way they act different around them. Also I don't mean the crew as a whole I mean the separate characters 😭🙏🏽

ask and u shall receive 😈

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OH GOD, YOU CAN TELL?

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Captain Curly

-oh.. curly knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that you had the biggest crush on him.

-there is no slow realization.

-not at all oblivious to it.

-everytime your eyes would seemingly uncontrollably and totally unconsciously drift to him he would try to meet your gaze with a friendly, boyish smirk.

-does that happen? HELL NAH. you are much too shy to even look the captain in the eye.

-your little heart almost beats out of your chest at any interaction. little or big.

-"Hey, just the person I needed to see. I have a little favor to ask you."

-oh god. suddenly words seem hard to pronounce and the entirety of the english language is no where to be seen.

-after a few weeks, curly would definitely find this endearing.

-i feel like since curly is so outgoing, he would be very intrigued by someone who is the complete opposite.

-curly wouldn't act much different when it comes to you, due to maintaining professionalism as his role as captain.

-he may due small acts like making a cake simply to indulge in your sweet-tooth that he somehow knew about you.

-"oh, we just had extra packets of sugar. i just thought id bake something. you like cake right?"

-cheeky motherfucker.

Intern Daisuke

-dude is so so so oblivious even though you make it perfectly clear...

-you could be making like.. making out with the guy and he'd be like,

-"yoo, we are literally besties right?"

-deadass, he prolly had no idea you liked him for weeks.

-you could be laughing extra loud at his jokes then realize ur laughing too loud, look at him while he isn't looking at you, sneak an extra sweetener packet on his bed when he isn't around,,,,

-his ass still is clueless.

-it takes either curly or swansea's help to realize that you had a massive crush on him but were just to shy to say something.

-once he realizes, he is now all over you and following you around like a lost puppy. not nonchalant at ALL.

-literally tries to pick up the polle statue to show his 'guns' but the statue moves only an inch..

-now he is hyper aware of your actions and reactions, he finds your shyness just SO CUTE WTFFF.

-compliments you to see what you would do.

-"man, have you always been this hot or is it just the sweetener talking?"

-runs away.....

-would steal sweetener packets just for you two to share :)

Nurse Anya

-i feel like she notices how different you act around her, but she just thinks its because you two are good friends.

-she never assumes anything, just her friend being friendly.

-even though you sometimes make it unintentionally obvious..

-like this one time you recommend her a book from your quarters library and her fingers lightly grazed yours reaching for it.

-oh shit. her soft hands touched yours. oh god what does a normal person do in this situation??

-"thank you for the-oh... book."

-well, they don't smile awkwardly, sweat pouring down their face and leave in a hurry with the book still in their hand.

-anya isn't stupid or completely oblivious by any means. she definitely knew from this encounter of your little crush on her.

-she is quite flattered honestly. someone so similar to her truly likes her?

-when she fully processes this information, she is very subtle with how she shows her affection back.

-during check-ups, she sometimes gives you a treat from one of her desk drawers for being a good patient.

-other times she lets you join her late at night in the lounge to just look at the pretty night time screen.

-"this makes me miss home. it's so beautiful."

-you'd look over at her and her eyes are not on the screen, far from it actually.

-her eyes are on you.

-so this is what a heart attack feels like..

Mechanic Swansea

-unpopular hot-take, swansea is actually a dilf and he often has younger men/women confess their feelings to him.

-so because of that headcanon, swansea definitely knows how you feel from the first time y'all met.

-your eyes would subconsciously peek at his open shirt revealing his chest. suspiciously, whenever he would look back, you quickly turn away shyly...

-he immediately thinks he is way to old for this shit. he just got out of a divorce and prolly never wanted to try again. especially with someone younger.

-"what is with this damn younger generation with old people.."

-he tries to avoid you even though you two are co-workers and.. work together. on the same ship.

-as weeks go by, your shyness starts to grow on this grumpy man. he... he thinks it's endearing in a sense..

-he rather likes how reserved you are, and how are aren't as loudmouthed as daisuke.

-he won't act much different to you, but according to the rest of the crew it is obvious.

-swansea leaves little sticky notes reminding you to eat or sleep because and the sticky note quotes,,

-"..the crew doesn't need you passin' out while doin' your job. so eat or i will make you."

-swansea is also much more soft-spoken with you than anyone else.

-he has never raised his voice or spoken down on you. his usual brashness and snarky remarks are now toned down (but not entirely) around you.

-"hey. i didn't say you had to leave, did i? stop puttin' words in my damn mouth and sit."

Co-captain Jimmy

-jimmy prolly doesn't even acknowledge you at first.

-you could be looking at him, thinking he doesn't know that your eyes are skimming over his face and body.

-oh but jimmy.. he does know,,, but he never shows that he does.

-he likes the attention on him. your eyes looking him over when she doesn't even know that he is soaking it up.

-im sorry but he definitely gets off to the fact that you are shy and get flustered easily.

-he loves how malleable and submissive you are due to your shyness. and he uses it to his advantage.

-he shows his affection strongly after he knows your crush.like sometimes he would purposefully follow you places and when you turn around he'd be like..

-"do you mind? you're in my way.."

-i feel like he wouldn't know how to properly express his feelings so he would be kind of unnecessarily mean and cruel.

-and after he would be mean he would be nice and extra affectionate so you would still like him.

-like you could be working on something and is critical about your work.

-"are you serious? tsk.. move, since you clearly cannot perform a basic task."

-then later he's like..

-"im glad someone on this ship is helpful, like you."

-basically, he purposefully plays with your feelings to get you to confess bc i feel like he likes when women cone to him.....