#error 404 shut up

[mothcollective]

Hehe only missing 2 old Soundwave figures.

Prime I’m going for you! Threat

[shy-little-gigglee-bun]

imagine bunbun trying to escape with one hand free but each time she tries to untie her other hand you tickle her little squiggle button. i dont think she'd be able to get away.... but maybe she'd prefer it that way hehe

hecking shush! 🙈🙈🙈

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––

“Huh… whazat—?” 

A shrill – earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud – noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it? 

You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice–fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call – quite literally in this case. 

Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress – along with the charger cord still attached to it – and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.

The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to just leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake. 

Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.  

Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?” 

“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?” 

Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—” 

“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?” 

“Should I need a reason to call my only daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—” 

“Mom!” 

“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.” 

Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?” 

“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.” 

“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.” 

You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.

First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, your laundry– gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop. 

Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone. 

“Mom, I swear–” 

Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.

I’ll know if you don’t.  

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh! Um. That’s… new. 

… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards. 

It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.

You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds. 

Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.

And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you. 

He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum–depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue. 

At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do. 

Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you–almost accusatory. 

It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived. 

You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn’t put into words. 

Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update – although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game – so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.

You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament. 

(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)

Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead – probably tonight when you do your daily login – you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus. 

You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling in your throat. 

Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word – girl, from what even – so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation: 

“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?” 

You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming– but there. 

Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—

Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?

Oh. 

Oh.

An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you. 

You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–

Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell dropped on you and you might just blow. 

“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.

-

-

-

If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend–nope, nothing unusual here–you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:

Of course, sweetie. You take care now. 

Don’t talk to strangers. X

Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust. 

Thanks for reading! 

[planete777]

getting high with lando and u somehow end up on his lap and u kinda accidentally grind down on him and he moans and says that feels rlly good and ur just like yeah? and u end up riding him

I WANNA RIDE・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, getting high (as per), p in v unprotected sex (practise safe sex guys!!), semi public sex, riding, a little bit of body worship, high!lando x reader being hot (as per pt. 2)

NOTE. anon prbly wanted this as a small thought post, but i had to write a proper fic coz planete.exe 404 error: BRAINROTTING! so plz enjoy my first ever smut (sorry if it sucks i tried), and remember, don't get high!! or do wtv u please.... ok bye 🫶

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando 🤍

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

all in the name of needed getaways, y/n and lando find themselves in the aforementioned's car, basking just behind the local park, where the sunset could perform best. clocks are just shy of 7pm, the wind a couple of degrees cooler than hours prior, and sitting in their adjacent seats with doors wide open, both lando and y/n have lit and inhaled their spliffs by second nature.

lando's beyond glad that the vehicle is out of plain sight, veiled by thick trees and bushes, because he was completely struck, dazed with not a thought in mind, and the sight would make a journalist's field day. yet, it's the thrill that keeps him flippant to all seriousness and discretion. the presence of y/n, uncaring and completely liberal in nature, gives him a second identity to just let it all go and succumb to the skewed vision and thrumming fingertips.

seats reclined by a bit, lando's foot rests just below the dashboard, y/n the same but with both instead, and lando can't feel a thing.

it's light conversation that carries the mood, punctuated by the aux that y/n has complete control over, and the rest of the world simmers away as they let the high take them before the ombres of the sky. it gets chiller, and it knocks y/n into partial sobriety slamming her side of the door shut.

"shut the door, lan', it's fucking cold now."

he groans, "nah, can't move."

he hears her sigh, mumbling a disappointed 'dickhead' beneath her breath, and he smiles before zoning out again. a few seconds of shuffling commences, then weighted friction lands so heavily on his thighs that it excavates a vehement puff of air out of him, red eyes snapping open. he can't say anything, not when y/n leans to grab the door shut and grinds on him with so much force that it has to be intentional.

lando knows he accomodated a semi throughout the whole car ride. something about seeing his best friend in her element turns him on so much that he could probably cum untouched.

but now, he feels too much, there's pressure on his dick, accompanied by warmth only y/n could emanate, and the moan that flies out of him rumbles in his chest.

"fuck, that feels good."

y/n freezes as she settles again, but then she's smirking, and no matter how more shut than open his eyes are, he can see it blatantly.

"yeah?" her voice sounds light and airy, and it runs lando mad.

"mhm." his chest is heaving up and down with a quickened velocity, and he feels far from being at the peace he was just seconds before.

the girl leans in, lips tracing along the skin of his neck with a phantom touch, and lando can feel every single inch of his resolve melt away. his hands rest on her hips, teasing a slip beneath her hoodie, and he squeezes, hard.

she goes higher, and higher, stopping at his ear, "let me ride you."

then it's all gone. composure complete in lack, his hand reaches up to her nape and slams her lips against his for a gratifying kiss. his eagerness is matched instantaneously, y/n combing her hands through lando's curls and tugging so hard that he nearly fears that some would rip out of their roots.

nothing amounts to the all encompassing sensation of y/n everywhere. her grinding turns more frantic, and he pushes her down hastily, hands crawling upon the skin of her back.

"get your dick in me, lan'," she says, with no room for more words, and he does just that, welding their lips together again as he fumbles with the knot of his joggers.

y/n finds a way to free herself of her hoodie, leaving her in nothing but her bra, and lando, pushing down to free his hard, aching dick, expresses his distaste for that.

"take it off, y/n."

she's smirking, and lando's losing it even more, "what? you're gonna suck them out here?"

he almost finds it offensive that she doesn't think he'll worship her anywhere. public be fucking damned, he'd be at her mercy whenever he could.

"and you'll fucking love it."

"damn right."

just as she unclips her bra, she grabs lando's dick, and, unprecedentedly, sheaths herself in.

everything is hot. god, he can't do anything but moan and moan again, shutting his eyes and going completely limp. it doesn't deter y/n, in fact, her wet, tight cunt squeezes and grinds upon lando's dick without mercy and the pleasure that soars through him burns and tickles.

"oh fuck fuck fuck," lando's mouth rains profanities, and as he goes to open his eyes, y/n moans and they roll back shut again. he's red all over, feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, and the girl keeps on bouncing and grinding. he can't survive with it on, and so he yanks it off, coming skin-to-skin with y/n's naked chest.

"fuck lan'."

she can say nothing more, and neither can he, his hips thrusting upwards to meet hers. she lets out a high pitched moan, and lando's ears ring as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. they fill them so perfectly, and his mouth waters like it aches for honey, attaching it to her left nipple and sucking it like he was running mad. he's drunk off her essence, a complete goner, and y/n throws her head back as her grinds slow down.

"feels so fucking good."

she's so deep in euphoria that she's on the verge of tears, and lando decides to let himself do the work, grabbing her hips and grinding upwards frantically.

the car smells sharply of sex, humid and steaming up the windows, and y/n hazily complements the scent with a drag of weed, eyes rolling back, and mouth puffing out pouts of smoke and moans. she feels the knot tighten in her gut and her toes curl just as lando sloppily licks wet kisses up her chest and neck, then into her mouth.

the kiss is barely one, filled with clashing teeth and the exchange of sighs, but lando keeps their mouth attached, sneaking a hand into hers to steal the spliff. y/n lets him, jaw slackened and too tired to engage in the tangle of tongues either.

"fuck, i'm cumming— shit shit shit!"

"cum with me y/n, cum on my dick," lando slurs out, taking the roll into his mouth before inhaling and exhaling the white smoke. his dick spasms sporadically, sensitive and completely throbbing as he spurts right into y/n's cunt, feeling her own coat and pool at the base of his dick.

they can barey ride down their high, exhausted and completely satiated, and all y/n can do is rest her head on lando's shoulder, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as he does the same.

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

Friends to lovers headcanons with Tyler Harrison (gender neutral Reader)

Teasing! So much teasing and playful banter. Literally EVERYONE knows it’s flirting and they poke fun at you both. “God, just make out already.” “Get a room, you two!”

Tyler likes to rough house, and you have no problem playing rough right back.

Maybe because it helps you cope with those goddamn butterflies in your stomach every time there’s any physical contact between you two.

But sometimes the rough housing goes a little too far by accident. Generally, when it comes to you, Tyler pulls his punches. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, especially not because of him.

When you catch an elbow to the face though, GOD, HE FEELS SO GUILTY. He immediately screeches to a stop and checks to make sure you’re okay.

When he cups your face and angles your head to look at him…brain.exe has stopped working, error 404 not found. You’re tongue tied like an idiot.

Bjorn often talks smack about you, but Tyler doesn’t tolerate it. He’ll snap at Bjorn to shut the fuck up and leave you alone.

You get to see a side of Tyler that no one else gets to see. He shares his insecurities with you, his greatest fears, his worries, his nightmares - all of it.

The first time he did it, he swore you to secrecy. You could tell that he was worried you would blab to other people.

But you never did. You kept his secret, and he gradually opened up to you more. Late night chats were a common occurrence between you two where you would just talk about anything and everything, spilling your guts. And in the morning, you felt lighter, knowing you had each other’s backs.

If you get harassed in a public place - on the street, at a shop, on market day, etc - Tyler won’t hesitate to pretend to be your boyfriend. Slinging an around your shoulder or waist and pulling you into his side protectively.

“There you are, babe. Been looking everywhere for you,” he says with a kiss to your temple and a glare at the offender who has been pestering you.

Afterward, Tyler is absolutely insufferable. He’s so smug about it!!! Gloating like, “I was a pretty good boyfriend back there, huh?”

Neither one of you will admit your feelings for each other though. You just can’t take that risk. You don’t want to ruin your friendship.

The two of you can’t deny it anymore when Tyler gets into a fight over you.

Someone on the street made an inappropriate, crass comment toward you.

Tyler saw red.

The next thing you knew, you had to drag him away with bloodied knuckles and a black eye, otherwise you were scared he might kill the guy with his bare hands.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Ty? I’ve never seen you like this!”

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way!”

“That doesn’t mean you pick a fight over it!”

He storms off, and you’re left there bewildered, wondering what the hell was going on.

Later that night, Tyler knocks on your door. He’s quiet, head bowed, hands braced on your door frame.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice sounds utterly wrecked. “I thought - I thought it would go away if I ignored it. But I…it’s not working.”

You stand there gaping like a fish. He looks more and more green around the gills by the second.

“Say something. Please. Tell me I didn’t just make the biggest screw up of my life.”

You step forward, sliding your hands inside his coat, around his waist.

When you press your lips to his in a kiss, Tyler sighs with relief and you can feel him smile against your mouth as he kisses you back.

Masterlist

[blissxjj]

Surprise kissing the brothers

Featuring: all the brothers

SFW

Lucifer

• Happy and will never admit it.

• he is impressed of your boldness.

•he gets hot all of a sudden :)

•he might punish you later but he ends up being a softy and forgives you.

•he gets mad embarrassed when you do it in front of others.

•you did it once in front of Barbatos and till now he still gets embarrassed.

•overall he likes it and will except it just not near others.

Mammon

•it depends on the situation.

•he likes when it's out of love.

•but...

•something about it being a surprise angry kiss makes him feel butterflies.

•during an argument you just grab him by his clothes and pull him in.

•he will forget why you argued in the first place.

Levithan

•Error 404

•Levi EXE is shutting down.

•he hates it because he likes it so much.

•he wants you to kiss him so bad but hates going through all the emotional Rollercoaster.

•he is super shy even when he knows you are about to kiss him.

•so imagine if it was a surprise one.

•still loves 'em though :3

Satan

•very serious person.

•it depends on where you are.

•i would advise you not to do it in front of Lucifer or any other brother.

•not because he hates your kisses or that he is embarrassed of your relationship.

•he knows you bring out the soft side of him

•the side he normally never show to others.

•nonetheless he still appreciates your love.

Asmodeus

•don't do it.

•unless you want to go all the way.

•this man has no limits he will take you right then and there.

•if you don't stop him that is.

•he just feels a spark in him that is so hard to resist.

•he loves it when you kiss him in public it shows people that you are taken and he as well so it makes him proud.

Beel

•you kiss him.

•he kisses you back.

•simple.

•he doesn't have any preferences when and where.

•he just loves your touch and affection almost as much as he likes food....almost.

•you tried to embarrasse him many times but end up being the one embarrassed.

•when he picks you up and kisses you.

•one time you kissed him in the kitchen in front of Lucifer to make him blush.

•It backfired when he picked you up and sat you on the counter and kissed.

•in front of Lucifer :D

Belphie

•he does not care.

•not in a toxic way but rather a braty way.

•he likes when you kiss him during during sleep hoping he will wake up and be surprised.

•but he keeps himself asleep so you could do it again.

•works everytime.

•he loves cuddling more than kisses so maybe try surprise hugging.

•way better and would result in a sleep brake for both of you.

Masterlist

[lonewolflupe]

Hello lovelies I need you to know I am unwell, I am broken, error 404 Lupe not found. I visited LEGO World today and of course I was looking forward to visiting the Star Wars section and getting some pictures with big-shebs LEGO figurines.

The most unholy gasp left my lungs when I noticed there was a real dude in Captain Rex armour. Like, there was a Captain Rex. In the room. The same room where I was. The room I was visiting. Help

Pictures and more ramblings below the cut

@ghostymarni here's the rest I didn't share earlier

HE WAS MAGNIFICENT HE WAS GORGEOUS HE WAS SO HANDSOME I WAS SO SHY. I stared at him for 10 minutes before I mustered the courage to walk towards him. I said 'Captain, sir' and saluted and HE SALUTED BACK I AM SO UNWELL I ALMOST FAINTED ON THE SPOT HELP

Also I took a pic of his shebs, respectfully of course

Here's some stupid pics of me (I don't like being in pics but I made an exception today). Also that's my actual face especially the one with Rex I have never related more to an emoji.

The scout trooper was actually a pretty cool dude. He liked my shirt so I got that going for me, which is nice.

I went back a few more times to check on Rex (I am so normal *nervous laughter*) and got another magnificent pic of Rex which is now my phone's lock screen:

I mean, look at himmmm. FOOD DRINKS REX shut up and take my credits. And the LEGO Rex in the background? It's like poetry, it rhymes.

And I got a LEGO brick laser engraved. I choose something far more awesome than my name:

Oh yes LEGO, I almost forgot. All the LEGO was really cool, but I have to be honest, nothing beats a live Rex ahahaha. I wanted to share more pics of the LEGO figurines and dioramas but I'm not allowed more than 10 pics in one post apparently, and I'm not going to delete any of the above Rex-pics so I'm sorry about that.

Best day in a long while oh Maker I need to find a way to distract my brain now

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ Error 404! Lovesick<3 — Gojo Satoru

Warnings: mentions of blood, death idk, fluff

A/n: divider cred— @/heavenlydevine

Satoru typically yearns for you and every single touch. In some sense to say, he’s touch starved maybe�� in all others, he’s absolutely in love with you. With every morning kiss, every good night whisper, every breakfast he’d burnt for you, every fate he’d saved his money for—all and none, he felt sick at his heart.

-

You swallowed hard, the wounds were deep.

“Sorry,” he muttered—the smile bashful, you simply stared, beyond pissed.

Not a single word escaped you as you cleaned everything, every single wound—heart aching with each of his whimpers and whines.

“He did a great job, for reference,” your eyes panned onto the underclassman in the corner, a guilty smile of his own—as if any of this was amusing.

Maybe your anger was, to them.

A vexed look you passed onto him, a certain fear of both the men incensed the air.

An attempt was all it was, Kento knew of those angry glances and cowered winces when you tended to Satoru, so simply, small attempts he made as a mutual friend—as his supposed ‘Wingman’ that Satoru had deemed him, to save him from the worse part of a mission going bad.

“I did,” Satoru beamed, “the technique Suguru and I were-” words cut short, too short, he looked down- embarrassed.

“Y/n,” Kento’s voice reached you quick, a small smile playing on his lips, “Don’t be too hard on him, at least today,”

A severed nod from you, Satoru but his lips, wincing from the cut upon it.

“Babe, listen I didn’t even-”

“-shut up,” you snapped, eyes boring into his—he loved the way you embraced each other, he always did love these moments.

He knew how it racked your heart, his body covered half in blood, he wasn’t even usually sure if it was his or not—he knew just the way you trembled when you dealt with him, he knew the way you wanted to slap him silly when he hugged you despite your clean clothes—but he knew that he loved you, and for you, he’d do it all the time, over and over.

A thick finger caressed your cheek, the tear rolling down your face wiped away, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You have so many cuts,” you mused, “so many injuries Satoru, why? Why do you even bother?”

“For you, always,”

You bit back your words, all so harsh, for a boy as sweet as him, often you felt deceiving, as if you didn’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry angel I just,” a sharp inhale, “I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I can’t…it’s like, my duty to protect you right?”

A sharp exhale, yours.

“Satoru Gojo,” a smile finally adorned your lips, never one to be able to resist, especially when he’d remind you of his love, “you’re an idiot—you’re simply alive because Nanami tries to protect you in missions and here,”

“Your idiot though,”

And right outside, he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Kento loved every bit of your conversation with his senior, every bit of you and him.

All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[softstraykidshours]

~skz walking in on you changing~

pairing: ot8 stray kids x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanon

length: 350

warnings: implied nudity but nothing sexual

a/n: this is a request from a lovely anon, aghhh this was such a good idea!!!

chan

even though you have been dating for such a long time he still gets so nervous when he walks in on you

will literally cover his eyes while scrambling around the room to get what he needs to get and leave

but will most definitely tell you that he thinks you look great as he leaves

minho

he will have a very mild reaction

very casual

like he'll walk in, see that you're changing, give you a quick wave or thumbs up, and then leave

changbin

404 error changbin not found

just freezes out of panic

he’s not really staring at you but his eyes are definitely glazed over

he will eventually leave but it will take literally forever

hyunjin

one word: drama

the screech that leaves him is unparalleled

he actually doesn't mind and of course loves seeing you naked ;)

but he is going to make a scene none the less

jisung

immediately shutting the door because he is so caught off guard

he's so panicked that instead of closing the door and leaving the room, he accidentally closes the door and locks himself in the room with you

profusely apologizing no matter how much you insist it's okay

felix

immediately shuts the door and leaves (unlike jisung, he actually successfully leaves the room)

you barely even realize he was there

spends the rest of the time you are changing profusely apologizing from the other side of the door

even if you have seen each other naked before, he still feels bad and won't shut up about it

seungmin

he will completely ignore it tbh

like he went into the room to grab something and is indifferent to whatever state you are in

he is here for one thing and one thing only, and no one is going to distract him

but he does still think you look great

jeongin

respectfully apologizes and goes to leave, closing the door behind him

when he realizes that you are putting on his shirt, he will pop his head back in

“is that my shirt?” “yeah why?” “you can’t wear that, i was gonna use it for my ootd.”

[hyuuukais]

⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, drinking

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 4 ~ ENERGY (wc: 2.7k, 7 screenshots)

Flipping the open sign to 'closed', you wait for Minho behind the counter. There hasn't been much more communication from him since the last time you talked, only a confirmation of when you're meeting. Changbin made sure to leave before he decides to show up, feeling too uncomfortable facing an old friend. Other than the occasional check-in text from Jeongin, you haven't had much ghostly interaction either, which you think is for the best.

Each interaction so far has taken more and more energy, starting with the man on the bus and then the elderly woman. A headache, then nearly passing out? At this point, you'll end up in the hospital. A chill goes down your spine thinking of that; would it be easier for the ghost to get to you unprotected like that, lying in a hospital bed unconscious and exposed?

The sound of the bell alerts you of Minho's arrival. Adjusting yourself to lean against the counter, you watch him close the door and lock it. When he turns around, he catches your eye and gives you a light nod of acknowledgment. Slowly, he makes his way toward the counter, fingers trailing over an arrangement of pink carnations mixed with greenery. Minho stops, letting a petal fall between his fingers and onto the floor. Shaking his head, he closes the distance between himself and the counter with a couple of strides.

"I don't know if I believe you," Minho says, leaning on the counter; his face is too close to yours. "But I'm willing to try and help. I owe Changbin."

"How so?" You ask, unsure if you'll get a reply when he places his bag on the counter and takes out a sleek laptop.

"Why do you need to know? That's between me and him," Minho doesn't even spare you a glance as he opens the device and starts typing. "What's the kid's name again? Any lead suspects yet?"

"Yang Jeongin and no, not really," You answer with a shrug. "I guess the most notable person is his best friend, Hwang Hyunjin."

"Have you looked into him yet?" Minho's eyes dart up between yours, returning to the screen and starting to type. "Could be something there."

"I don't know-" You're interrupted by a buzz and look down to see a text from Jeongin.

Rolling your eyes, you place your phone face down and focus back on Minho's typing. He's not saying anything, but his eyebrows are knit together in concentration as his fingers fly over the keyboard. Other than the sound of the keys, the flower shop is eerily silent, making you slightly uncomfortable. Ever since this has started up, quiet rooms have you on edge, waiting for the next visit from another spirit.

Minho sighs heavily, stepping away from the screen and pacing in front of the counter. You let him take his time, a hand sitting in his hair showing he must be thinking hard. Hopefully. You'll see in a moment.

"Nothing is showing up," Minho stops in front of his laptop, slamming it shut with the hand not holding his head. "Absolutely nothing, just a warning- error, whatever."

"The same thing happened to me!" You stand up straight, fingertips holding the edge of the counter tightly. "When I found this blog that was talking all about his death, it wouldn't let me read the rest of it and said there was an error! It's like something is stopping us from finding out-"

"Invisible forces?" Minho raises an eyebrow.

"Isn't that the whole thing? Normally, people can't see ghosts. Why do you think probably half the world doesn't believe in them?" You say. "So, yeah, invisible forces."

"Alright, sure," Minho slips his laptop bag into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll look into Hyunjin. Goodnight."

"Wait-" As he turns to leave, you call out; he looks back at you over his shoulder. "Would you... could you give me a ride? Being alone right now has me kind of freaked out."

"Won't you be alone at home?"

"Yeah, but it's different," You mumble, looking down at your feet. "It still feels safe there."

Minho hums in response and you don't move.

"Aren't you coming?" He asks after a moment, car keys jingling in his hand.

You lift your head and spot him holding the front door open. Grabbing your bag and jacket, you walk out after Minho and follow him to his car parked down the road. He opens the door for you politely and you step in with a small 'thank you', fiddling with your bag strap as he walks to the other side and lets himself in. The ride to your house is silent, save for the occasional direction from the GPS.

Along the way, you spot a few stragglers out on the streets, one catching your eye when you're stopped at a red light. An uncomfortable feeling washes over you as they keep staring and you shiver, breaking the eye contact and focusing on the road in front of you. When the light turns green, you take one last look and jump. They're right outside your window, the imprint of a hand left on the glass as Minho starts driving again. He gives you a weird look that you miss, too busy trying to learn how to breathe again.

Ten minutes later, you're standing outside your door picking up the keys you just dropped from your hands shaking too much. Minho is stationed outside watching you get in safely, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment when you struggle to get your key in the lock. Switching the light on, you can hear the rumble of Minho driving away and take a deep breath. You're home now, nothing can hurt you here.

Entering your bedroom, you flop face first into your plush bedding and stay like that for a moment. You feel a dip at the end of the bed, but it doesn't freak you out. By now you can tell when it's Jeongin; his presence feels familiar. The bed moves slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable beside you and you turn your head enough to be able to peek up at him. He's staring straight ahead, hands folded in his lap, and you see he's even kicked his shoes off. Shaggy black hair falls into his eyes and he shakes his head enough to clear his sight, his eyes then falling onto yours- you've been caught.

"Like what you see?" He teases, head rolling to his shoulder to face you completely.

"No," You lie with a grin, propping yourself up on your elbow. "Not at all. Personally, I'm not a fan of having dead people in my bed."

Jeongin laughs at that, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. You watch him relax, sliding further down into your pillows with a content expression. As much as you want to join him in seemingly falling asleep, you still need to change and wash up. But-

"I gotta go," You say, rolling off the side of your bed.

"What?" Jeongin sits up, hands behind him. "Why?"

"Changbin wants to hang out."

"I thought you were in for the night?" Jeongin's voice goes higher at the end of the sentence.

"Me too! But it's been so long since we've done something fun. Now, which is better? This," You hold a plain black dress up to your body. "-or this?"

You switch the black for a dark red strapless shirt and some black pants and watch his reaction. Although he hesitates, you can already tell he's thinking the second and you toss the dress back toward your closet. After he covers his eyes, you change quickly and do some last touch-ups before leaving the room. Jeongin follows you and you both keep an eye outside for Changbin.

"Be careful, okay?" Jeongin talks low, keeping his eyes on the road when you look over at him. "Lots of energy in those kinds of places, don't need you getting hurt. Especially if you're planning on drinking."

"Are you worried about me?" You tease.

"No, I just don't want you to become one of us before my case is solved."

"Cold."

"Just like my case." This makes you laugh, a light catching the corner of your eye.

Changbin steps out of his vehicle and starts to approach, but you're already waving goodbye to Jeongin and exiting before he can get up the steps to the front door. The night air is crisp, goosebumps forming on your exposed skin, but you're quickly ushered into the warmth of the car. In the window of your house, you can still see Jeongin watching when you drive off. On the way to the bar, you and Changbin sing along to his daily playlist to bring up the mood, and it works incredibly well. By the time you're entering the building, any thoughts of ghosts and death are gone.

Ordering two of the same drink, you and Changbin sit with your backs to the bar and observe the others, making up backstories for each person who passes by you or seems interesting. About four drinks later, Changbin has convinced you to join him on the dance floor. One more drink, and you find yourself surrounded by strangers, distracted by the loud music flowing through your veins. It seeps into your skin and you can feel the beat moving inside you, letting your body take control. In front of you, Changbin shows off his moves and you can hear people cheering, but you know to him it's just the two of you here.

The music slows and so does your body, adrenaline leaving as you brush some hair out of your face. Changbin's expression is all scrunched up in a pout and you laugh at the way he appears to be going in slow motion; it's funny, that is until you notice how everyone around you is following his lead. Panic starts to settle heavy in your chest, turning every direction to try and spot what's causing this.

You sway on your feet as you see the first spirit weaving through the bodies toward you. There's a hole in the center of his head, dried blood crusted down his nose and chin. Moving back to the bar, you stop when you almost hit the chest of someone else; her eyes are dark as she towers over you and you step away. You let your body guide you away, walking turning into a frantic dance to avoid the mass amount of spirits that seem to be mixed with the crowd. The exit isn't too far now, but you seem to be getting sluggish purely from being near this many spirits. You can hear your breathing turn to wheezing as you stumble forward with a hand out, your fingers barely brushing the red handle before someone is wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you away. There's no fight left in you, your eyelids heavy and your body falling limp. Someone is calling your name as you're torn away from whoever is holding you, blurry visions of colourful figures above you being the last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut.

-

When your eyes open, you don't recognize the room you're in. Dust falls from the ceiling, visible in the moonlight coming through a window above you, white curtains pulled to the side. The bed you're in is much too small for your body, pale blue sheets twisted under your legs. Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you sit up slowly, a wave of dizziness rocking you. Once it's over, you take in the rest of the room.

It appears to be a child's bedroom, string lights pinned corner to corner emitting a dim gold on the walls. Tucked in the corner is a small desk with art supplies messily organized in compartments, one cup of paintbrushes knocked over with dried paint water soaked into a drawing. You stand and pick up the drawing; there's two boys standing by water, but one has been smudged by the spillage. They seem to be watching something out there, but the drawing is unfinished.

Directly next to the desk is an open door leading into a short hallway. Stairs lead downward with candles melting over the railing, wax dripping onto the wooden steps. As you walk toward the stairs, you can't help but look at all the photos covering the walls. Most are artsy, decorative shots, but one in particular catches your eye. There's a family of four, but the photo is torn at the parent's middle, leaving only the children to be seen holding hands and smiling wide. It's almost unsettling.

Following the pathway, it ends at the doorway to what looks like a living room, but all the furniture is covered in white sheets. You cover your mouth to suppress a noise when you spot a man standing by a fireplace. The sound of your hand slapping over your mouth must have alerted him, his head whipping around to look at you.

"What are you...?" He's turning fully now, head tilted to the side and eyes squinting. You have to hold in another gasp when you realize it's Hyunjin you're looking at.

"I don't know," you reply quietly, bringing your hand back to your side. "I've never been here before. I don't know where I am."

"You shouldn't be able to get in here. You-" He stalks toward you and grabs your wrists, bringing you into the room with him.

You watch his eyes widen as the moonlight hits you, eyebrows knitting together and mouth falling open slightly. The grip on your wrists is bruising, and he gives no sign of letting go. There's a shift in the air and he looks away from you and past your head, eyes narrowing at something in the space behind you.

"Back off," He warns, and you're almost too scared to know what he's seeing. "Stay right there."

His voice wavers, hands finally loosening and you're able to pull away completely. This, however, is a mistake. Hyunjin is reaching for you again with a shout of your name as hands grab you from behind, tearing you away from the room, the house, this whole place.

With a gasp, you sit up in a hospital bed, lights blinding you. Someone is touching you, trying to calm you, but you fight them off; you've had enough of peoples skin on yours. Head in your hands, you take deep breathes and notice just how badly you're shaking. You hadn't even realized you were crying until now.

"Y/n! It's just me-" Changbin's voice is clear beside you now that you're a bit more adjusted. "Hey, it's just me. You passed out."

"What?" You finally let him settle you back against the stiff pillow. "I did?"

"Yeah, and I think it's ghost related, but I don't know," Changbin shifts in his chair uncomfortably. "Jeongin's been blowing up your phone."

He hands you the small device and you unlock it to see he's right, Jeongin has been blowing up your phone.

Jeongin replaces Changbin, sitting in the chair with his legs crossed at the ankles. Neither of you talk, but he does stare at you with concern visible on his face. You lay down on your side, keeping your eyes on him as you get comfortable, or at least as much as you can be. There's a moment when he opens his mouth, but a nurse comes into the room to check on you before he can say anything. She explains you'll be able to go home soon, just rest for now.

When she leaves, you sigh. "I wish I never left my bed."

"Me too," Jeongin admits quietly, a faint blush of red creeping up his neck and you giggle.

The energy with him is so different than other spirits and you can't understand why. With him, it's warm, easy; It's not draining or unwelcoming in the slightest. Being with him feels nice, like a dream you don't want to leave.

Jeongin follows you out of the hospital, into the cab they provide, and back into your home. He waits outside of your bedroom as you change, opening the door to let him back in. Crawling into bed, you catch a glimpse of Jeongin next to you. This is the first time you've seen him look so unguarded since you've met, so peaceful, and you drift into sleep thinking of him.

~

notes ~ this is unedited bc it's 2:30 am and i'm tired so pls ignore any mistakes lol

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

[mothcollective]

I hope my figures arrive before my birthday! That’d make me happy. I’d like my boys to arrive

[shy-little-gigglee-bun]

Bun, when are you not extremely ticklish~?

ALSOFJVKDJDKXJXLSNALABSKXJCLZBAKANSKZNXKX 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈

s-squiggle monster?! 🙈🙈

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok so in slow cooked au I really love Macaque's perspective here because it's starts with him being the same as in Canon, then he notices Wukong having a pretty big baby bump, getting curious, the realization once he forces MK to spill the beans about Wukong being pregnant eith thw world's slowest cooking baby for the past 1300 years, the shock and Horror at realizing his former mate is pregnant, he didn't know his mate was pregnant, and that he had BEEN PREGNANT WHEN WUKONG "KILLED" MACAQUE! No wonder Wukong reacted so violently when he attacked him back then...

And then, before he can actually process this, bes kidnapped by Mayor, forced into LBD's servitude, and given the task to hunt down his PREGNANT mate (former mate? Things got kinda confusing after learning he gonna be a dad) and his apprentice, and if he doesn't, not only will he drag back to Diyu LBD will hurt the Egg!

There's a reason he focuses mainly on MK on s3, although a mistyped jump made him wince when he basically tacked Wukong to the floor. At least he landed on his back there, and he was careful not to put any weight on the baby. Mei is pissed.

Once Macaque learns the news, and that him and Wukong's last fight was during the pregnancy - he has a brief 404 error and realises; "Oh gods. No wonder he killed my ass. I almost hurt him and his (our?) baby in my anger." Fastest he's ever gotten over being killed.

Macaque: *learns his former mate is pregnant* Macaque: *is also aware of the process which Stone Monkeys can reproduce asexually* Macaque: "ME FATHER?!?" LBD: "Bring the Monkey King and his protege-" Macaque: "Shut up, I think I'm going to be a dad!!!" Mayor: "Congrats!"

And ofc he has a whole moral journey as he tries to weigh the safety of Wukong and his baby over The Entire World. He reasons with himself that he can bring MK to LBD and that will be ok... right?

MK: "Sooo... since you know the Monkey King is having a baby, you won't hunt us down right? Right?" Macaque: "hmm..." MK: "Right?!" Jin and Yin: "Not if he want's our mum to kill 'im instead!" Macaque: "Ugggh... fine."

He also has two/three very annoying horned demons on his tail too.

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie⁓

Brief intro 'cause I'm so late to do everything this monday, goddammit.

Or...

CoDdammit. Lol.

Sorry

That's a "dialogued chapter". I love dialogues.

I lllllove them.

Next time i'll give you some more action, i promise.

Maybe. I suck at scheduling things

DISCLAIMERS: GhostxYou yelling time; Price is so good at being a psychologist i don't even know why he's a soldier; Soap risking his life by being a little too funny; Gaz doesn't like coffee; dialogues that last halves of hours; roommates enjoyining their time alone; brain gets error 404 on how-to-behave correctly;

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

Sixth part here:

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

«I bet someone'd fought the other day»

Price appears behind you, and incredibly, it's not breakfast time: it's like 4pm, and you're not used to seeing him somewhere which is not Laswell's office.

You let the weight fall from your hand, breathing heavily; lately, gym is the only thing that allows you to not explode like a goddamn balloon in a cactus field.

You exhale: «…did he tell you?»

«Didn't need to tell me. We heard the yells»

«…ah»

He sighs, sitting on a bench. «Some things are better to be told under your breath. Particularly if they are personal. And above all, if they're the kinda things you were talking about-»

«You're telling me you've heard that i-!» You say almost in a hurry, immediately biting your lips. «…sorry Captain»

«You don't need to be sorry»

«No? And…what about being bewildered?»

He frowns. And you find the intimacy of the gym, combined with Price's soft eyes and his bear you're so tempted to pet, comfortable enough to open up a little.

As if you've not behaved like an open book since you'd made the first breakfast with the Task Force.

«Look» you preempt every possible objection about not being professional on a military base (since you know you're not) «I don't wanna be a burden, or cause problems. I-I know you've already got plenty of them…»

And he anticipates you with a sigh: «…but?», knowing so well you're about to stream out a flow of that sort of thing girls tell their besties at pajama party nights.

«But…but I don't know how to handle the Lt! I…just don't know. It seemed to me we got along well but, apparently, we weren't. We are not. I mean» your hands gesticulate above you to draw the speech in the air «one day he almost broke my arm, then he helped me get rid of some sort of stalker, but the day after he offended me and told me to shut my mouth. I don't know! I don't know how the hell I am supposed to-»

«Is this bothering you?»

«Yes!» You almost yell, emptying your lungs with a sigh.

Price's humming fills the silence for a while. «Ok. I'll make sure to put you under someone else's supervision-»

«No»

You bite your tongue again, and he smiles under the bear; you know he did. He was expecting your answer, but doesn't need to make you feel bad about how much of a childish behavior this is. He pats your shoulder: «Ghost speaks through sarcasm. Not that easy to handle. But if he doesn't ignore you, then he likes you. That's what we've learned 'bout him»

«What about him being touchy?»

Now you can add to your "goal list of the year" that you've made Price slightly blush; and he can't deny it, even if he hides the red under a bear scratching. He doesn't even ask you about the kind of "touchy" behavior you're speaking of, so you imagine that, somehow, he already knows…things.

«Again» he sighs. «Does this bother you?»

Fists are clenched around the thumbs, squeezing them hard, and your sight is focused on the weights abandoned on the floor. You feel some sort of heat climbing up your tights thinking about how much Ghost's touch did notbother you. But your brain doesn't allow you to admit it. 'Cause it bothers you not being able to find him bothering just enough to officially make him stop, and you're just hoping he'll quit somehow 'cause old memories and vices are frighteningly awakening in you. 

«It would be better» and saying this costs you a lot of swallowed cravings «if he stops»

«Mh» 

It doesn't seem like he is falling for it. But he doesn't ask further.

«I'll speak to him»

And you can just give your beautiful Captain the best smile you've got.

«I just can't believe that bloody woman is a…whatever»

«People in bed are different from people in war, Lt»

Ghost glares at Soap through his fifth coffee of the day.

«Why, thank you, Sergeant. I'll engrave your pearl of knowledge on my tombstone» 

«It'll be ma pleasure»

«What is it?»

Two pairs of eyes turn at Gaz, who's peeking from the opposite side of the table. None of them is a "snack" kinda guy, but this afternoon really calls for a break.

And Ghost's drinking coffee. Again.

The Lt. gazes back at Kyle.

«What?»

«You're not drinking tea anymore» he claims, suspicious.

«Are ya afraid I'll turn into a Scottish?»

Soap grins: «aha, not funny», as he rummages through the pile of recruits' tests that need to be checked. «Look, look at this, bloody Jesus, I-» He tooks away one sheet in particular, waving it around. «How the hell is she capable of runnin' like a-a...dunno!»

«Who're you talking about?»

«Our laddie» He spits out with a smirk. «Christ, she does have working lungs, look at her running test results!» 

«'Course she has, or she won't be able to yell like that»

The whole office turns silent around Price's words. He enters with a smirk, nodding at his desk full of plastic glasses.

«When did the tea party start?»

«Sorry Cap., promise we ain't eaten all the cupcakes»

He grunts, heavenly sliding on his goddamn chair (spared by the misappropriation). He waves his head at Ghost:

«I've got complaints»

That makes him say his second: «…what?» in, like, two minutes.

«Our little one» Price explains «is politely asking you to stop being…you know what»

«An asshole?» is Johnny's supposition.

«A shithead?» is Kyle's.

«Surely someone's gonna be bloody dead meat» is Ghost's ultimatum. 

«I've spoken» are Price's last words, before he stretches his limbs so hard his bones crack, making Gaz shiver with a: «damn Cap., go see a fucking osteopath»

Then a mumbling is heard from Ghost's mask, almost chomped in his teeth as he tried not to let his thoughts hiss out of his mouth. But he fails, and everyone can hear: «fucking child, not grown enough to tell me by herself»

It makes Soap almost burst into a laugh he chokes in his guts, exploding in a sudden cough. 

«Ya ok bud?»

«Aye, aye…'s just…» Johnny takes a breath, gaining some air. «'S funny to look at you two playing the “cordless phone” game»

Ghost doesn't like this. Not a bit, not a single word.

«What do you mean?» He snaps.

«Why don't you just talk frankly to her?»

«I've nothing to say»

«Bullshit. You've been yelling at each other for one week»

«You're a bloody blabbermouth»

«'M sorry, it was impossible not to hear you. Why are ye even so mean to her? You two started well»

«I'm not here to make friends»

«Maybe ye could get a girlfriend instead»

«Johnny»

Price intervenes before Ghost decides his knife fists better in Soap's throat than in his hand. Captain gives his boys one of his gazes. 

«That doesn't have anything to do with you, so, even if you know every crumb of this shit cake…shut your holes. 'K?»

And they do it. They shut up, since they neither want a telling-off from their Cap., nor Ghost's knife in their butt.

The day was kinda ruined, though. At least, Simon's day. And he spends the rest working hours glaring back at everyone, avoiding speaking and trying to shut the echo of Soap's voice in his head. 'Cause he hates to admit it (and he wouldn't do it even under torture) but that goddamn man was right: it was just a matter of speaking with her honestly. Without being a dick.

Fuck; that last part could have been a problem.

The fact is…problems that are killing his synapsis are actually two.  

Price managed to get one of them, and maybe it's pretty obvious even for the rest of the team. But the other mental pirouette is what is really eating him alive. And he doesn't have enough teeth to clench, cheeks to devour internally, fists to smash on the door to avoid thinking about it.

'Cause one thing is liking you.

One other is wanting you. In a bad, absolutely not polite and caring, incredibly violent way.

Abstinence surely is one of the worst tortures. He's used to it, though: both to abstinence and torture. So it shouldn't be a problem, but it is, and he can't deal with it, he can't accept it, it's just unbearable and…and…

And Ghost almost starts to think everything is so overwhelming at the point of giving him hallucinations, as he hears…something.

Something familiar.

He stops next to a door, and it takes him one second to realize what door it is, and who's behind that door.

And what sound he had just heard. 

And in that one second of chaotic information riddling his brain…he hears it again.

A moan. A cute one, so muffled and soft that it was almost inaudible.

His eyes slid to the room door. 

That's your room. 

And, if he remembers well, the big crazy woman of your roommate is currently out on a mission. Therefore, you're alone.

All alone.

Absolutely alone.

So alone that you're, evidently, enjoying your moment of privacy a little too much.

He's about to knock at your door, or to burst in, he doesn't know, he'll figure it out somehow, but as his hands brush against the door knob there's another moan, so soft, so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

«What are you…doing?»

He jumps, his heart skips a couple beats as he jerks alarmed eyes to look at who's just appeared next to him.

He almost faints when he sees you. Thank god the mask is covering his face, otherwise you would see a jubilance of embarrassment and fear, red and deathly white.

You're standing, a toothbrush in your hand and in your feet the insecurity of someone who doesn't know if to make an u-turn and pretend you've seen nobody, or stay and wait for an excuse.

Him too, he seems to choose the "excuse" kinda behavior: he coughs, straightening his spine at his limit to stand taller, more confident. 

And he talks, but words are not as dry as he would like: «I came to see y-TO» he suddenly withdraws «to make sure you're going to be at the meeting tomorrow mornin'» the last few words become a mutter.

Silence follows. Moments of strange silence, oddly, densely fluffy, as if you're looking at the scene from above a cloud.

W H A T 

That's what your mind is flashing while you're discharging your incredulity on the poor toothbrush.

«I…» You start, with the intention of saying something sensible, really, to make the most of this occasion and let him know how fucked it's his way to handle people, sarcasm or not. «We just-like-we've almost…in your…yesterday» you start all over again «you've treated me like a wannabe whore»

He immediately hurries: «Wasn't my intention to-»

«I'm sorry if it wasn't, you'd done it» You shut him. You shut your goddamn Lt., and this isn't even the first time. «I can't hold up with this anymore»

«With what?»

«You» You spit, clenching your fist around the toothbrush. «With you, ok? I-I-look, i know this couldn't-you're my superior, I'm sorry if I'm being…disrespectful? I'm sorry» words start to rush from your lips, eyes are wandering around, in search of a cute way to avoid yelling at him again. «But you're so…»

«…So?»

«Unreadable. Unbearable» adjectives slip through your mouth, sharpened and straight to his heart. Or at least you hope. «I can't work with nerves at a razor's edge»

«I supposed you already knew we've to work under all conditions»

«These are not normal conditions, don't just spit the whole thing out»

«Explain, than»

«You know!» You muffle the voice. «Stop teasing me, 's like you've got some sort of dual personality! Anyway, I've already spoken with Price and-»

«He'd told me» He cuts your speech. «But I'd rather your pretty voice gives me clarifications»

«We've already fought on this point, like, five times!»

«What point»

«You make fucking fun of me!». This time you yell, then immediately bite your lips. You feel like he's teasing you, and obviously the joke's always on you. «That's the point! And all 'cause-'cause I've moaned once, and somehow now you hate me because I've made you turned on!»

«I-»

«First you treat me like some kinda hoe, then you protect me from stalkers, but one minute later you make fun of-of-! Do you know» you're rushing disconnected words, and your toothbrush is pointed at his face threateningly «how fucking difficult it was for me to open up about my goddamn kink? Do you know??»

«Listen-»

«But I've done it! I've done it 'cause you're a superior of mine, and I want, I swear to god, I WANT to respect you, to-to trust you and be at ease with you like I used to till a bloody week ago!!»   

You're breathing so heavily your lungs' movements are making your whole body wave. Stern, ice-cold eyes are locked on him, and you don't even know how you've managed to gaze at his mask for so long.

There are times in which you need to make a choice in a matter of seconds. Simple ones: putting salt first in the pot, or going first with pasta when water boils; wait a little at the coffee machine to make the espresso a long one; going to the bathroom before putting nail polish; picking up the book you're supposed to study instead of the phone with you're gonna fuck around with for the rest of the day…

Simple things. Ordinary choices.

Like biting your tongue before talking shits (that's what you're not doing), or speaking before it's too late (that's what he's not doing).

And you two face each other in a silent sights fight, spiced with rage and frustration, every muscle tensed and every fist clenched, teeth tight and cheeks chomped from the inside.

You'd like to burst into tears.

He'd like not to be a dick. For once.

And the whole situation is unlocked by another sudden, soft moan from the room. 

You instantly get red in every inch of skin; he widens his eyes, just able to say:

«What the fuck-»

«Sorry» you're so fucking embarrassed you can't even stand his sight anymore. «Sorry, i-i've…i've given Bernie some "solo-time", and she…uhm…apparently-»

«Hold on». His tone changes so suddenly, turning into a hurried, awkward question: «Is Bernadette Kelly inside?»

«Y-yeah»

«Wasn't she supposed to be on a mission?»

«She was a substitute, in case Fisher couldn't do it. But he managed to go»

«…oh»

«…oh?»

He's lucky the black makeup disguises his redness so well, since he can feel how hot his face is under the mask, as he wonders how it could have ended if he had rushed inside the room to Bernadette touching herself.

«…ok. Well, no. But…ok, 's ok» He mumbles to himself, allowing his brain two seconds to readjust the thoughts's stream. 

«Ok?»

It pisses you off so much you don't know where to restart the angry mood. 

And you do it in the worst way possible, blowing out a mean: «you've thought it was me, didn't you? Were you ready to scold me again 'cause "I haven't got enough dignity to be a soldier", and then feel allowed to touch me?»

You're ready for everything, you're wearing armor in berserk mode: you can face him yelling at you, threatening, flirting, scolding, putting blame on you, taking you at gunpoint, punching you or throwing a burrito at you, you don't care.

You're ready. You're waiting.

Aaand waiting.

Aaaaaand waiting.

'Cause he's not moving, so frozen in place you're wondering if he's still breathing.

Ghost's not an evil man. He's not violent, he's not an asshole.

He's just having a metaphorical system error in his software that's reminding him he has not, in his goddamn entire life, dealt with such a duty. 

And he doesn't know how to: he doesn't know if it's better a silenced gun or a sniper, to do stealth or to burst in the house with a grenade; he doesn't know if it'll be a dangerous mission or a walk in the park kinda thing.

He doesn't' know, 'cause his only way to solve these problems is being a dick and waiting till the counterpart gets enough of him, and just leaves him alone.

But this time he doesn't even know if he wants to be left alone.

And so, with his mind blown up and just your toothbrush in his eyesight…

He left.

Without a word.

He turns his heels, leaving you in the corridor.

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

[suengmi]

I absolutely love you writing 🥺💖 I was wondering if you can write something fluffy and suggestive with Felix where you guys want to have sex but you’re both too nervous so you (soft dom) end up dry humping him and he just lets out the prettiest whines and moans

felix has his hands on your hips, fingers stuttering back and forth as he tries to find the courage to slip them under your shirt. there’s a slight awkwardness in the air, like felix has stopped functioning at this moment, it's error 404 basically. pairing: felix x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned) genre: fluff, suggestive smut kinda?, .9k warnings/other: dry humping, felix loves tiddies (bc same), soft!dom reader

the sound of the fan clicking just makes it worse, with every breath you both take it seems to elongate the silence you’ve both created. you look up at him, his eyes big and wide staring at your chest. he looks up at you as he turns his lips down at the side, eyes darting back to your neck every split second. 

“should i?” you begin, eyes looking everywhere but him.

“i guess.” 

you forgot what you were suggesting, so you just lean forwards a bit to go in for a kiss. he kisses back, teeth slightly clacking against yours as he tries to follow your pace. it’s ill timed, and so damn awkward. you pull back, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head.

whatever this situation is, it doesn’t make sense. over text you are both so over zealous, saying how bad you wanted to fuck him, how hot he’d look underneath you, eyes teary with pleasure. he’d return saying how he wanted to see you come undone just from his mouth, to fuck into you until you were a mess.

“what’s wrong with us!?” 

“i don’t know!” felix replies, letting his hands slip down to the bed. “why is this so weird?”

“ahh, i don’t know either!” you say in defeat slumping over with your head in your hand. as you look up at him, you’re met with the same confusion. 

both of you let out a light chuckle after making eye contact. the smile felix gives you is heart warming, and helps you feel at ease. you just need to shake off those nerves. he was just as nervous as you.

“okay, okay.” you say standing up, completely flinging your shirt to the side. your shorts soon follow. now, you’re completely naked apart from your sports bra and panties. you gotta just rip off the damn band-aid at this point. if you don’t do something, nothing is going to get done.

felix stares up at you, those damn saucer eyes big once again. you gesture for him to move back. so he obliges, shuffling himself back on the bed with his legs hanging off the side.

“c’mon, take off your shirt and pants.” you say in haste, hands resting on your hips.

he pouts, quickly doing as you say to be left in nothing but a pair of cotton pink boxers.

“i’m just gonna-” you begin, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. you slowly lower yourself onto his thighs, your chest flush against his and knees next to his hips. he takes in a sharp breath, hiding his blush by looking down. it just makes it worse, now he’s got a face full of your chest and he doesn't know where to look.

“you can look felix. it’s okay.”

“just…” he begins, swallowing hard. “your boobs.”

you lightly laugh, your hands coming to his cheeks. “yes, my boobs. you can touch.”

“yeah boobs.” he echoes, leaning forward to press a messy kiss onto your plush chest. you let out a light moan, fingers finding their way to tangle in his hair. he looks so sweet, so innocent with the way he's exploring your chest. he still seems nervous though, hesitant to do more. to your surprise, he mumbles an i love you into your chest, followed by a giggle as he looks up at you.

“i love your boobs.” he giggles again, teeth showing with his silly grin.

“they’re alright, i guess.” you joke, wiggling your chest so it moves back and forth. you both laugh, feeling a bit better about the awkwardness fading away.

“so uh, what now?” felix puffs, feeling stuck at this point.

“fuck sake.” you say in a huff, pushing him onto his back. you guide his hands to your hips before resting yours on his chest.

“o-okay.” he says in a daze, fingers digging into your underwear. 

without words, you begin moving your hips back and forth. at this point you just wanna get this over and done with. that band-aid has to come off now, or you're not going to get anywhere.

“shit.” he cusses, head lolling back. all of the awkwardness seems to fade, now his head is spinning with the sight in front of him, the tent in his pants already growing as you grind back and forth.

the moans he’s letting slip are so high pitched, so whiny and a little muted by the bite he has on his lip. he’s already succumbed to your control, just from some light dry humping.

“so pretty.” you praise, finger’s gripping into the flesh on his chest as you move back and forth.

he can’t form words at this point, his whimpers and moans are egging you on.

“should i… take my panties off?” you say, stopping your movements.

"huh?!"

the look that felix gives you is priceless, pink blotches mixing in with his freckles, his brows raised. if this is him now, who knows what he’ll look like later.

"you heard me."

-

a/n: omg... u love my writing I LOVE U :-; thank u for suggesting this, i have a scientific assessment on how felix is an absolute sub/switch and i'll die on that hill. ty for requesting!!!!!! and ty for the kind words yall make my day

[cloti-strifehart]

Who We Are

Title: Who We Are

Author: KristinaMarie

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Rating: M (will be E in later chapters)

Pairing: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart

Summary: Cloud is racked with guilt after nearly killing Tifa under Sephiroth's influence. He carries her limp body back to the village, and as Tifa sleeps, Cloud realizes that he feels most himself when loving and protecting her. The story explores Cloud's anguish over nearly losing Tifa, his steadfast devotion to her, and his commitment to fight Sephiroth's memory to regain himself.

Read on AO3

Notes: This storyline in Rebirth is so beautifully done, I can't help but explore it more deeply. Cloud's psyche has always been so interesting to me, and I'm convinced that without Tifa, he'd become a shell of himself once again. Cloud's self-purpose started with Tifa. I think Sephiroth knows the influence Tifa has on Cloud, and the theory that he's aware of that and wants to corrupt Cloud against her to help himself succeed is so good. So, here's my imagining of how Cloud will figure it all out.

I have one more chapter in mind which will earn the E rating. I'd like to continue this, depending on how that goes and if inspiration hits. Let me know what you think! Unbeta'd.

There may be discrepancies with canon in this story. My apologies!

Tags: How i wanted it to go // The scene was perfection don't get me wrong // But why not? // Cloud Strife Needs a Hug // And to get a grip // That's where Tifa comes in // The gang just wants to help // Trauma // Angst // Guilt // Promises // Cloud tries to figure things out // Thought she was dead again // Promptly shuts down // 404 Error Cloud Not Found // Canon Rewrite // Canon Divergence - Final Fantasy VII Rebirth // rated M for now // Just barely M // Rating May Change // Will be Rated E in future chapters

______________________________________________________________

I was supposed to protect you, no matter what's to come.

Somehow forgot when they told me we hurt the ones we love.

- Friendly Fire, Linkin Park -

Sephiroth didn’t kill her. 

Liar.

I killed her.

Imposter.

I killed Tifa.

Who is she?

She’s my… she’s…

Another streak of white hot pain screams through Cloud’s temples where he sits, elbows resting on his drawn up knees.

No.  Not his temples.  Across his face, his cheekbone against the hammer that is Barrett’s fist.  Cloud takes the punch unfazed, deserving, because he did this.  He’s the reason she…

She’s dead.

Cloud killed Tifa.  He backed her up against the mako pit, swung at her with his blade.  All because he listened to him.  So sure she wasn’t who she said she was.

But it’s Cloud who’s not himself.  If he ever was.

He felt like he was, around her…

Barret roars.  Will he punch him again?  Cloud hopes so, if it’ll help. 

“Hey, get your shit together!  Tifa needs you!” 

Cloud stands with knees daring to buckle.  She said she needed me once.  Made me promise.  Each step toward the pool of mako feels like he’s trudging through cement. 

I’m no hero.  I’m not anything, anymore.

That’s it.  He’s not anything.  That’s why his bones feel like jelly, why his blood feels cold and sluggish in his veins.  Moments ago everything was a blur around him, like looking through heat rising off concrete, pressure behind his temples.  

Something laughs.  Laughs.  Then Cloud’s thoughts clear, his head gloriously empty to match his chest.  If there was a pulse beneath his armor, he’d be surprised.  Ashamed.

Without Tifa, what was the point?

But that clarity… it came and went.  Both strongest and weakest around her. 

Something roars.  The Weapon.  It looms over them and when Cloud looks up, the light is blinding. 

Then … she’s there.  Somehow she’s there.  And the silence in his head is so forgiving.

Cloud falls to his knees for the second time that day, palms on the ground as he hovers over Tifa’s soaked, still body.  Pain flickers in his chest, now; flows out through his limbs, stokes his heart to beat at an infuriating pace. 

She sputters wet coughs and her eyes flutter open and everything inside Cloud hurts so much…

It makes him want to smile. 

Cloud carries her the whole way back to the village.  Like a cross to bear.  Like he should have done back when…

When I killed her.

She sleeps in his arms, head tucked between his chin and shoulder.  Cloud maneuvers her only when he has to in order to cross the terrain, keeping his voice low and his words short each time he needs to wake her. 

“Tifa, listen to me.”

“Tifa, put your arms around me.”

“Tifa, hold on to me.”

She does what he asks each time, arms moving languidly, heavy with exhaustion.  She’s so strong.  She’s a big girl, always has been. 

She’d been right back in Kalm.  He hadn’t been there for her.  He should have, but…

It’s hard to think back to the mako reactor in Nibelheim.  His temples throb when he does, but he does it anyway, because… because…

He can still feel the rage that flowed through him in Nibelheim.  But before that was the emptiness.  That hollow nothingness that echoed throughout every tainted cell of his being as he’d carried Tifa, just like this.  As he’d nearly lost her, just like this.

You know she's dead. 

No.  She’s warm in Cloud's arms.  Her breath whispers against his skin.  The scar peaks at him from under her top.  Tifa.  His Tifa.  She’d waited for him; found him at the train station.  She’s been here all along.  And where was he?

He’s here for her now.  And look at what it’s done - nearly cost her her life.  Nearly lost her again… Without her, there’s nothing.  Nothing left but the other part of him he doesn’t recognize, or maybe recognizes too well.  The part of him that feels so wrong when Tifa isn’t with him, that pushes out all that feels painful and perfectly right. 

The part he wants to remember, but fights against him when he tries… except when she’s with him.

When the party finally arrives, the group buzzes about, busying themselves with ways to help Tifa.  Barret leads the way, clearing it, still grumpy that he didn’t carry Tifa back himself.  Cloud should have let him, he thinks, but the moment he picked up Tifa’s limp body, his head and chest screamed not to put her down; to keep her warmth close to remind him she’s alive.  Not dead, by his hand or by Sephiroth’s.  Aerith announces she’ll grab blankets, water, food, the kitchen sink too, probably.  Yuffie nips at his heels chirping away, how can I help, what can I do, is she okay?  

Cloud almost feels bad when he crosses the threshold of the bedroom and kicks the door shut in Yuffie’s face.  Almost. 

“We’re here, Tifa,” Cloud murmurs against her forehead.  This time, despite the commotion in the next room, she doesn’t stir.  The familiar chaotic bustle of doting friends makes her feel safe, he guesses. 

He wants to be that for her.  He’s tried to be that, so many times.  When they were in the village as kids.  On Mt. Nibel…

Carefully, Cloud lays her atop the bed over the blankets, kneeling one knee on the mattress as he sets to work.  As gentle as he makes sure to be, it all feels mechanical, what he’s doing.  Pulling her red boots off her feet.  Sliding her thigh highs down her legs.  Undoing her gear from around her waist, wrists, and arms.  Even the ponytail holder has to go.  It’s all dirty, tainted.  Like him. 

Cloud knows what has to come next, and he knows the girls just outside the room are better suited for this job.  But he has to do it.  He has to be there for her.  He’d promised.

Pushing off the bed, Cloud moves with quick determination to the door where Yuffie is still yammering and Red still scratching at the wood.  Cloud yanks the door open, effectively quieting them all.  Except Aerith who simply stands there with those sad eyes of hers, always sad, a blanket folded in her arms. 

Cloud can’t bring himself to look into her eyes.  He knows.  He knows he’s the cause of all this. 

He’ll apologize later, he decides, as he yanks the blanket from Aerith’s arms and shuts the door again, this time twisting the lock.  He…. They need privacy.  He needs to do this.  He’s known Tifa his whole life.  No one knows Tifa like him. 

Right?

Cloud returns to her bedside, letting that thought distract him as he works. 

I know Tifa better than anyone. 

First he removes his own heavy gear, leaving only his sweater and fatigues. 

And she knows me better than anyone.

He coaxes Tifa into a sitting position, slumped against him, forehead against his shoulder. 

Better than I know myself.

Her suspenders were easy enough to pop off.  Gripping the back of the fabric, Cloud rolls her white top up and over her head, then the black one next.  It all needs to be washed after being in the belly of the Weapon.  He keeps his eyes trained to the wall and lets his touch guide him.  She feels so warm against him, and he finds himself thanking whoever’s listening for that.  She’s warm.  His one arm wraps around her waist to keep her body pressed against his, ensuring modesty, while his other arm pulls Aerith’s blanket around her.  Leaning forward, he guides Tifa back to the pillow, then straightens the blanket around her before reaching beneath it to undo her bottoms.  He know it’s awful of him, but his fingers yearn to feel more than the smooth, warm glide of her skin as he pulls off her skirt, her underwear…

He only ever feels warm around Tifa, he thinks.  Like his blood suddenly remembers how to move through his veins. 

Her clothes neatly set aside for later washing, Cloud kneels beside the bed, hands on his knees, shoulders straight as he checks over his work.  Tifa is still sleeping, none the wiser, every bit of her covered and her dignity intact. 

A smile hints at the corner of her lips, and Cloud buckles, shoulders slumping forward while his fingers dig into his knees. 

What had he done?

He chokes against the sobs racking through his body, swallowing them down so as not to wake her.

You tried to… you almost…

What is she?

Cloud fists his hands in his chocobo hair and doubles over, his tears falling onto his fatigues and wetting it there.  “Shes Tifa,” he hisses.  “My Tifa.  You… you tried to take her from me.  Take everything from me.”

He knows Sephiroth is kneeling behind him, grinning, whispering into his ear.  But Cloud can’t feel nothing like his former hero wants him to.  Not this time.  Because Tifa needs him.  She needs him, and the anger is raw and lawless within him. 

This is when he feels most like himself, he thinks.  This, and when he’s loving Tifa.

Cloud’s eyes snap open.  His hands slowly leave his hair, moving to the mattress to grip the hem of Tifa’s blanket.

When I’m loving her…

That’s when everything makes sense, he thinks.  That’s when he feels like… like Cloud. 

Years of hiding feel forgotten as he climbs onto the bed, easing himself down alongside Tifa’s still body.  Unsteady fingers brush her stray hair  behind her ear, then trails down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can press his forehead to hers.  He knows he doesn’t deserve this; shouldn’t let his nose slide along hers, his blonde eyelashes flutter against her long, dark, whispy ones.  The arm under them curls under her neck so that his forearm can cradle the back of her head, and his free arm moves from her nape to her waist, wanting nothing more than to crush her against his chest like he did in Aerith’s garden.  Instead he insistently shows restraint, but only enough to satiate himself with the rise and fall of her chest against him.  He needs this. 

Needs her.

Cloud tucks the blanket more tightly around Tifa, though his hands tremble where they hover over the hem overlapped across her front.  Years ago, days ago, hours ago, he couldn’t imagine himself doing this, but now… His fingers part the blanket just enough to smooth his hand under to her stomach, following the dip of her navel up until he finds it - the raised edges of the scar.  The very thing he’s denied, burning into his fingertips and scarring there as proof. 

He’ll never doubt her again, he swears.  Another promise.

Cloud lets the tears come until he slips into dreaming, where he finds Tifa on the tower in her blue summer dress, smiling at him and asking for promises he’ll always, always keep.