#he just wants to chill out and rest…so that I think is the extent a pov of his could go

[foxmulderautism]

don’t even know how to structure the bobby novella bc I’m not sure where his arc would end in that context because overall his arc ends with dying which is not something i would write in his pov, it’s hard to create an arc within his larger arc when it ends like That, and also i have visions from when he’s in his hometown before his diagnosis to the weeks after his diagnosis to when he’s in the middle of it, which all feel like separate parts to me of something and i can’t tell if that means multiple bobby novellas or one bobby beast of a novella spanning months. all i know is i will write that weird gay little dude and make sure he’s loved from all angles

[arthurbristow]

Keep it close - Shigaraki x Reader

"Keep close," Shigaraki muttered, his crimson eyes scanning the bustling market around them. "I don't want to lose you in this crowd." His white hair fell messily over his face.

It was an unexpected outing, to say the least. The League of Villains rarely ventured out in daylight, especially to something as mundane as a game market. The two of you had left the hideout that afternoon, Shigaraki’s rare urge to indulge in some new video games coinciding with the League’s need for supplies. Dabi had been particularly insistent, his grumbling about running out of cigarettes becoming unbearable. So, with a list of groceries in hand, you accompanied Shigaraki to the market.

“Look at them, scrambling around for their mundane little pleasures,” he continued, hands twitching slightly as he spoke. “Pathetic.”

Navigating through the crowded streets, your eyes couldn’t help but notice the occasional glances and whispers directed your way. Shigaraki’s presence was hard to ignore, even if people didn’t recognize him. And you felt a wave of unease. The noise, the press of bodies, the constant motion—it was overwhelming. Your senses were on high alert, every fiber of your being screaming to find a point of stability. Shigaraki walked ahead, his posture tense but focused, clearly absorbed in his hunt for the perfect game.

The press of bodies around you intensified, and an accidental shove from an overenthusiastic passerby sent you stumbling. Without thinking, your hand shot out, grasping Shigaraki’s. The contact was immediate, grounding. Only a heartbeat later did you realize the full extent of your actions. His hand was bare — no protective gloves. A cold shiver ran down your spine. One wrong move, one slip of control, and you could be reduced to dust. Shigaraki’s Decay quirk was lethal, merciless. 

He stiffened, his head whipping around to look at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, but not entirely devoid of curiosity.

“I…” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “I just… needed to hold on to something.”

His laugh was a harsh bark, but there was no malice in it. “You’re insane.” Tomura didn’t pull his hand away though, didn’t dissolve you into nothingness. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, with his pinky raised up in the air to protect you from being decayed on the spot.

The two of you moved through the market like that, hand in hand. It felt strangely intimate, a connection that defied the perilous nature of his quirk. The crowd seemed less daunting with him by your side, your anxiety ebbing away with each step.

Shigaraki led you to a stall filled with the latest games. His eyes lit up as he browsed through the titles, a rare smile playing on his lips. It was a side of him you didn’t see often, this almost childlike excitement. You couldn’t help but smile too, caught up in his rare moment of happiness.

“Found it,” he said, holding up a game with a triumphant look. “This is the one.”

“Great,” you replied, your voice steadying. “Now, let’s get those groceries before Dabi sets the hideout on fire.”

Shigaraki chuckled, “Yeah.”

As you moved to the grocery section, the crowd thickened again. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on his hand. This time, he didn’t question it, at all.

You quickly gathered the items on your list, your movements efficient despite the mass of people. Cigarettes for Dabi, snacks for Toga, and various other necessities for the rest of the League. 

Through it all, Shigaraki stayed by your side, keeping his head lowered, reading the information written on the box of his new game, your hand still in his.

Holding Shigaraki's hand was a paradox of sensations. His skin, surprisingly warm, radiated a heat that contrasted sharply with the chilling fear of his lethal touch. The rough texture of his calloused palm told stories of countless battles and hardships. Yet, beneath the coarse exterior, there was a vulnerability — a silent plea for connection. The knowledge that a single slip could mean your end made the experience electrifying, heightening every sense. It was like holding a live wire: dangerous, exhilarating, and oddly comforting all at once. In that grip, there was a fragile trust, a delicate balance between life and decay, and an unspoken promise that for now, in this moment, you were safe.

Eventually, you managed to complete your shopping list. Dabi's cigarettes, snacks and manga for Toga, and even a few items for yourself. Shigaraki, meanwhile, had amassed a small pile of new games, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As you reached the entrance, you reluctantly let go of his hand. 

He glanced at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You apparently liked holding my hand, hmm?" Tomura cooed, his tone softer than you’d ever heard.

"Yeah…" You replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest and flush claiming your cheeks.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Just don’t make a habit of grabbing my hand. Next time, I might not be so careful."

[disneyprincemuke]

the overachiever * fem!driver

she's just a little competitive, that's all

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: YAUUUR i'm back with em femdriver updates dawg

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

oscar leans to the side as he avoids the ball hurled at him at seemingly an alarming rate — could have possibly taken his head off if he hadn’t moved fast enough — then turns back to the pair on the other side of the court. “oi!”

“loser!” she pumps her fist in the air and hops over to her teammate on her side of the court, hand lifted for a high-5. “do better.”

oscar rests a hand on his hip, chest heaving as he whirls around to where the ball had bounced to. “this was supposed to be a chill game. what is your problem?”

liam laughs, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back. he catches the girl’s hand and nods. “sore losers, aren’t they?”

“isn’t this your first time playing padel?” logan scowls. “how are you already so good at it?”

she shrugs as she puts her racket between her legs, readjusting her ponytail. “you know i can’t stand when i’m bad at things. of course, i prepared myself for today.”

when oscar had invited them out for a game of padel, he had expected it to be a first out of many short games. what nobody had expected, though, is for the girl — who claimed to know nothing of the sport just a week ago — to be absolutely dominating them on the court.

there is a reason they hadn’t invited the rest of their friends or anyone else from the grid. they just wanted to slowly take their time to learn the ropes of the game so that when the season goes underway, they don’t embarrass themselves when they get invited to games by other drivers.

but of course, the overachiever did her research and is already excelling to a certain extent. it’s just something they’d had to endure over the years: her in-explainable need to be good at everything immediately. if she’s not good at it from the get-go, she loses interest quickly.

“how? how could you have possibly prepared yourself for a game of padel? you didn’t even have a racket until 3 days ago,” logan scolds, throwing his arms in the air as the frustration slowly gets to him. there���s just something about her beating him in absolutely everything that’s sort of absurd. “i was literally with you when we went to get your stupid racket!”

“there’s this thing called youtube?” she hums with an eyebrow raised with the roll of her eyes. “and i asked fernando for some tips. so i’m kind of… like… a pro.”

“doesn’t make you a pro,” oscar scowls with a frown as he shakes his head. “makes you a bit of a nerd, though.”

“well i am graduating with a degree in information technology in a couple of months. so, perhaps, i could be a nerd,” she hums, with a giddy grin, “at least if the whole racing thing doesn’t work out… i have a way out. unlike you dropouts!”

“a woman in stem!” liam cheers. “if you graduate first class, i’ll buy you a car. what’s your current grades?”

she presses her lips together, nodding as she tries to formulate a plan for her education. “if i study harder for my final exam in a week, i could make that happen. i’m a pretty solid b grade student.”

“i meant a toy car, you freak,” liam frowns, scowling at her. “you think i’m getting paid loads as a reserve driver?”

“i overheard the team discussing you the other afternoon. who knows? we very well may be teammates next year.”

“i sure hope not,” logan butts in with a snort. “that wouldn’t do anyone any good — two idiots in the same team.”

she tilts her head, blinking innocently at him. “what do you mean? williams seems to be doing great with that kind of lineup this year.”

logan clenches his jaw, puckering his lips as he looks at her. “okay.”

“enough fighting,” oscar rolls his eyes. “ready to lose again, logan?”

the american sighs. “yeah, i guess.”

“god, don’t you know what a demonstration means?” max clutches his stomach, hunching over as the pain shoots through his torso. he watches the ball slowly bounce on the ground, right after hitting him in the stomach.

beside her, penelope giggles as she approaches max in concern. “are you okay, maxie?”

max shakes his head, glancing at the young child before dropping to his knees as he groans. “no, p. she bullied me!”

“she’s so strong!” penelope cheers, hopping over to the older girl with a screechy giggle. “but you should say sorry, maybe!”

“you’re right,” she grins, patting penelope on the head. “i’m sorry, max.” she leans down to max’s ear out of penelope’s hearing range. “that you got outplayed by a girl.”

max lifts his head to glare at her. they were just teaching penelope how to play football, the older girl describing earlier how to score effectively after she expressed interest in the sport. when she was asked to demonstrate the move, max didn’t expect her to kick the ball so hard.

“i knew that was coming. you’re so harsh!”

he was expecting a semi-strong kick to his stomach — something that he could catch and bear before they continued their small game of football. but no, she kicked the ball as hard as she could and almost incapacitated him.

though, perhaps incapacitated is too strong of a word. but he still does feel it in his gut, stumbling back in confusion when the ball came into contact with him.

can he really blame her, though? he sort of gets it: the need to be good at everything to please people. maybe it’s the eldest sibling trait.

“i was in varsity when i was in primary school,” she presses her lips together with a small smile. she holds her arms out to the younger girl and gestures towards her parent’s house. “i could get blythe to make us orange juice, p. do you want some?”

she sighs and drops her hands. “you can do better than that.”

logan drops his stance, his hands resting by the side of his body. “what do you mean? i don’t want to hit you so hard.”

“why? it’s not our first time sparring,” she scowls, wiping the side of her face on the sleeve of her shirt. she lifts her hands again, inside a pair of boxing gloves, and protects her face. “come on. hit me like you mean it.”

“i’m not going to hit you,” logan mutters. “we’re just warming up until benny and noah get here, right? that’s what you said.”

“yeah, but,” she darts a hand out, barely missing logan’s face when he leans back to avoid her punch, “i want a real challenge before they get here. come on, logan.”

but logan doesn’t fight back. instead, he takes several steps back when she tries to approach him, both arms darting out in an attempt to rile him up into a real spar.

“stop trying. i’m not doing this with you,” logan sighs, touching gloves with her everytime she tries to reach forward for him. “i know you were in martial arts growing up too, but i wasn’t. i’m just here because you asked me to be here.”

she grins. “exactly. so, fight back. don’t be a coward.”

“you’re not going to rile me up into a fight. i’m not you.”

“it works sometimes.” she dips down slightly and throws a punch into his stomach, prompting a huff as it hits him. “hit me back.”

“no way. stop asking me to do that.”

“coward.”

“okay.”

she touches his thigh with her feet, the taller boy stumbling slightly. “you’re just gonna let me do that to you? do something.”

“you’re not gonna get anything out of him.” a familiar voice makes both of you turn your head towards the door, benny walking in with a small smile and a gym bag over his shoulder. “very patient, this guy.”

“you clearly did not live in the same house as him for years,” she laughs, running over with her arms opens to get a hug. “will you spar with me until noah gets here? logan is so boring — he never hits me back.”

“hey!”

“sure! but you can’t cry when you lose.”

“maybe.”

sebastian tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “are you sure go-karting is what you wanna do over summer break? don’t you have other things to do?”

“we’ve done everything she wants to do,” oscar says begrudgingly as he puts his helmet on. “she cried this morning saying she misses racing.”

logan also looks tiredly at sebastian, shaking his head as he takes his helmet out of his bag. “i woke up to her sleeping on the couch hugging her helmet, by the way.”

the girl scoffs, punching logan’s arm as he unveils a secret he was sworn to never say to anybody else just this afternoon. “no, i was not!”

“ah, don’t be so shy about it,” sebastian smiles. “i also felt like that in my rookie year. all i could think of was being out on the track.”

“i guess i could study for my exams.” she exchanges glances with the 3 men around her before shrugging. “oh, well. time to race and beat your asses.”

“oh? you think you could be a 4-time world champion?” sebastian raises his eyebrows. “i’d like to see you try.”

“you clearly haven’t met me,” she hums, stopping in her track to turn around and face sebastian. she holds a hand out between them. “hi, i’m the most competitive girl you’ll ever meet. and i will beat you at go-karting today.”

while that doesn’t actually happen that evening, sebastian laughed as he climbed out of his go-kart at the end of their 10-minute race. she swears to him that someday she will be good enough to beat him in equal machinery (a go-kart).

which oscar begs to argue that she’s simply overdramatising the situation. but she just knows it’ll happen eventually.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

a/n: i don't know how i feel about this yet but i hope it's okay lol. but i do know that i need this man real bad. and i picked this song bc it just kinda reminds me of this:)) also, i'm british but i always imagine the characters i write to have american accents so that's how i write them:))

cw: throat fucking, breeding, connie calls reader 'ma', 'hermosa', and 'baby', oral (f + m receiving), connie nuts on reader, n word usage, connie speaks spanish 2x; 'lo sé, hermosa, lo sé' (i know, beautiful, i know); 'quieres un hijo, ma?' (you want a kid, ma?)

wc: 2286

you always knew connie was a problem. from the day your ex introduced you to him, and his eyes’ journey across your body was one that should not be taken by a guy your man called his ��best friend’. connie’s treatment towards you had never held any resemblance to that of a friend. it was almost as if he had no desire to hide his want for you. shown by the way he spent the rest of that evening, at eren’s house, eye-fucking you. his eyes probing you; brushing across your entire body, making the hairs on your skin rise at his command.

after that night, his eyes would return to you; attaching themselves to any moving flesh, as you shook ass when you guys all went out together. but, once again, you brushed him off. and you could've sworn you whined on him one time but the dim lighting in the club meant that you could never confirm. it was never to the extent where he made you particularly uncomfortable, you just needed to know what the nigga’s problem was. so you asked your, now ex, boyfriend ony about it. but he had accused you of blowing it all out of proportion.

“just because the nigga looked at you, you think he wants you?”, he had scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“it’s not about him looking, ony, it’s how he looked.”, you defended, and ony had rolled his eyes and carried on with whatever he was doing. that marked the first of many arguments you two had about connie.

the turning point came when you and ony broke up, and the first person to text you as soon as it happened was…connie. it was as if he had been waiting for this very moment since he met you. and he had. but, unlike his prolonged affections for you, the message he sent you was short.

”you good?”, you looked at your screen through teary eyes, and saw that he was facetiming you. so you, hesitantly, answered and you were met with a sentimental connie, throwing condolences your way. ensuring you that you would be fine, and telling you praises like; ‘you were too good for him anyways’ and ‘i would never treat a girl as beautiful and smart as you like that. i don’t know what he was thinking’. and, as sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his words that denounced his friend, aimed at the ears of his ex-girlfriend. but their comfort outweighed all the suspicions, so those calls became more regular. and, perhaps, that's how you got to where you are now; head upside down over the edge of his bed, with his dick fucking in and out of your throat.

“why you ain’t leave him sooner, y/n? i know he ain't ever fucked you like this”, your head tried to shake a response to him and he just laughed down at you, thinking you were absolutely adorable. even with all that spit spilling out the corners of your mouth, and your mascara running all over your face.

he had invited you over to just “chill”, but you knew better and went in a matching bra and thong—you didn’t know if it was just post-breakup loneliness, or wishful thinking because you had been feeling him for timeee. but it was a gesture he had laughed at once he took your clothes off.

“you want this dick just as bad as it wants you, huh?”, he had laughed, earning an abashed giggle from yourself. how he ended up fucking your throat, you didn't know. but you had weakened this man’s knees considerably, and now both of his hands were placed on your knees. the sight of your dainty hands toying with your clit as he used your throat as a cock sleeve made his dick pulsate in your throat. so he pulled out of you, slowly, groaning before he had two seconds to position his dick and nut all over your chest and stomach.

you no longer had loyalties to ony, so you could freely admit that connie was eating you out in a way ony never had. the pleasure he was giving you travelled through every cell in your body, even reaching your fingertips as one of your hands tried to grab at whatever parts of his bleached buzz cut it could. the other busy cramping due to how hard you were grabbing at the duvet underneath you. both of your legs rested over his shoulders as his tongue politely abused your heat. you thought you felt something in his mouth when you two kissed earlier, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had dulled your senses. but, now he had you spread open on his bed, you could feel the small ball of metal greeting your clit as he sucked it into his mouth; the combination of the cold jewellery and the warmth of his tongue making your back lift off the bed. you were so close to your end, and that gap was finally closed when the little ball started vibrating. connie’s lower face was drenched, your wetness running down his chin and neck.

not a drop of it was wasted as he wiped it on his hand and licked it all off, his eyes glued to your face the entire time. having not fully come down from your high, connie’s next movements were a blur to you. all you remembered was him pulling something out of his draw, then your legs were in his arms, your thighs meeting his hips as connie fucked into you like he would get evicted from his house if he didn't. his trimmed fingernails were digging into the flesh surrounding your thighs and his eyebrows met to furrow in the middle of his face. he no longer cared about loyalties, not with how tight you were. he would do this now, and deal with the consequences later. because how could he let his best friend get in between him and the finest girl he'd ever met?

this man fucked you mercilessly, it was as if he had a point to prove. and he did—he wanted you to know that it's him you should've been with in the first place. he would’ve been so much better to you than his friend had been. and if you couldn’t see it, you’d feel it. the tip of his dick was damn near touching your lungs, knocking out any air you had stored in them. your eyes hadn’t focused since you entered those four walls, and connie’s were clouded by you. and that cloud finally rained down when you came around him,

“c-connieee—fuck—s-so good—fuckfuckfuck”, were your final words before your second nut of the night—arousal flooding the fabric underneath you, as well as connie's lower abdomen. seeing you coat him again, and wet the places that dried after the first one, made connie’s dick throb. but he wanted you to nut again before he got his own end.

so he picked you up, and laid you on your stomach, lifting your ass up, and giving it a quick slap. the sensitivity still resounding in all your limbs exacerbated the feeling of his palm, and long fingers, meeting your soft flesh. before he spaced your legs apart, his right one knelt between them, and his left propped up beside you. in seconds he was pounding into you again. your hands were grabbing at pillows, sheets, anything to find a small grip on reality. because this man was trying to fuck you into madness. his brain had stopped working the moment your lips attached to his, and its small whisper of reason evaporated and was replaced by his dick’s harsh clamours to fuck you until he couldn’t anymore.

clamours became careless whispers telling him to nut in you, and get you pregnant so you could be his forever. something he had joked about it in your facetimes, telling you,

”i have half a mind to make you the mother of my kids. then i could take care of you forever”, your view was of him cooking shirtless, with nothing but pyjama bottoms on. and you knew there was nothing under them because of the way they sat on his hips—his v-line fully exposed. but your response had been a laugh and an eyeroll,

“shut up, bro. i’m not trynna be anyone’s baby mum”, you scoffed.

”i never said baby mum. i said mother of my kids. there’s a difference”, he had reassured, earning another eyeroll from you. that conversation replayed over, and over, again in his head. and he tried to disperse those thoughts by maintaining a firm hold on your hips, pulling you onto him as he fucked you like his life depended on it.

he was hitting you with those slow strokes that hit the right spot every single time, and it had you whining and slapping the pillows above your head,

“don't tap out on me, ma, c’mon. stay wit’ me”, and you tried, but the pleasure he was making you feel was enough to drive a grown woman to insanity.

“i'm trying con-n, but it's—nnggh—too fucking good. fuck”, he revelled in knowing he was being this good to you, even if it meant dire things for his friendship. he had always wanted to see what this pussy was like, and now he knew, he'd be back again next week. same time, same place, the only changing being the positions he bends you into.

”lo sé, hermosa, lo sé”, he smirked onto your skin as he kissed it; his plump lips starting at your shoulders, making their way down the valley in the middle of your back. his hands would travel the width of your back, before one of them wrapped around your throat to pull you up to him—your back flush against his tatted chest. his body weight rested on his heels as he fucked up into you; one hand still gently squeezing your throat, and the other gripping onto your tit like it’d fall off if he let go of it. he didn’t know what he was saying anymore, all he needed was to make you his.

”quieres un hijo, ma?”, he voiced, and you blindly just nodded, until he spoke again, ”yeah, you do? want me to put a kid in ya?”, you didn’t know if he was playing or not, but you didn’t need the mess that would come with having a kid with your ex’s best-friend. even though you were trying to collect your thoughts, your surprise caused you to tighten around him. and that just made connie go even harder.

”n-no, connie, n-no. whattabout ony-y?”, you mewled out and he scoffed at you, his grip on your throat slightly harsher.

”the fuck he gonna say? huh?”, that last ’huh’ came out through gritted pearly whites, ”how’s he gonna claim you if you got my kid in ya? huh? he ain’t gonna do shit, ma, don’t stress”, he cooed before peppering small kisses all over you.

”b-but”, you wanted to tell this man that he’d lost his damn mind, but your eyes were too busy flickering into their sockets as more whines left your mouth.

”no buts, baby, i’ll take care of you”, his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and, with the way he was making you feel, you just nodded in agreement.

the words, ”good girl”, were the golden keys that opened the flood gates, and you came around him. that nut took all the strength from your body, and you would’ve fallen onto the bed if he hadn’t been holding you up. even still, the merciless pace which he fucked up into you with, did not falter. and you came again, crooning his name in overstimulation.

”c-conniee, fff-fuck”, your voice cracked out. he just smirked at your cute demeanour and resumed kissing your shoulders. before his groans fell deeper, and his fingertips dug deeper into your skin. his arms held you still and he came inside you—his release stealing his strength, meaning he gently dropped you onto the bed, collapsing beside you after doing so.

”you didn’t nut in me.”, you spoke quietly, and you thought the duvet had muffled you but the low chuckles rumbling from behind you told you otherwise.

”i had a condom on. you ain’t see me take it out?”, he walked off the bed, ”or did you really think i was gonna put a baby in you?”, he smirked, taking the thin layer of latex off him. his face winced at the sensitivity.

”nah.”, you spoke sheepishly, shaking your head against the duvet. he got off the bed, and made his way to the side you were laying on. once he made it to you, he grabbed you by your chin—making you sit on your legs as your body wavered. then his tatted hand was on your jaw,

”’f you want that baby, just ask and i’ll give it to ya”, his voice was quiet and the corners of his lips rose, as his eyes remained on yours. and once he saw your head make a small nod, his smile grew even bigger.

”bet.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmoon. Do not repost without permission.

[mommageto]

Domestic Hashira: Part 3 (Himejima x Reader)

Title: Domestic Hashira Chapter 3 (Himejima x Reader)

Word Count: 1709  words

Description: (Y/n) and Gyomei navigating the unfamiliar territory of an arranged marriage. 

Part 2

The whole day, you and Himejima did not speak a word to each other.  You shared lunch together, and both of you spent the rest of the afternoon doing your usual duties and Himejima training as hard as ever. It only felt like a day, but you did not want to be with Himejima like this. It was awkward, peculiar, and uncomfortable. You missed your husband.

After your bath, you stepped outside the bathroom to the changing area to change into your sleepwear. You were startled by a large, familiar form in the corner. Himejima was changing there, his movements muffled by the fabric. To your surprise, this caused you to jump and let out a small scream. Gyomei was taken aback. "I apologize, (y/n). I didn't realize you were coming in," he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. 

You instinctively covered yourself but then realized the absurdity of your action. After all, Himejima was blind and already partially clothed. The giant man quickly left the room with his robe in his arms. You couldn't help but wonder how much he has to avoid you. This did not help with how you feel but only tested your insecurities. 

It wasn't long until you had to be in a position of discomfort because of your current situation. Spending the night sleeping beside Gyomei while a tense atmosphere lingered between you. This made you feel uneasy, so you decided to pack up your futons and sleep in the other room. It feels heavy to be sleeping beside him with everything that's going on. 

Gyomei entered the room to sense you packing your futons. Though Himejima was blind, he could figuratively read the room as he could hear you putting away your beddings. Even so, he didn't assume. Instead, he asks you, "(Y/n), what are you doing?"

You remained silent for a moment, not answering him immediately. The feeling of speaking feels weird. It's like there is a lump in your throat trying to hold you back from speaking with him. "(Y/n)," he called out again.

"I'm sleeping in the other room," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. The towering man beside you froze.

"Can we please talk about what happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Gyomei, do you still want me to be your wife?" you countered, your question a direct challenge. He was taken aback by your sudden inquiry. 

"Yes, I do want you to be my wife (y/n)," he responded, his voice firm.

You felt perplexed even if you heard Himejima's voice to admit that he still feels that way for you. An itch you couldn't scratch is why he would go to a certain extent to avoid you at those hours. It was your first argument as a married couple, but you didn't understand Gyomei's actions recently. That night made you feel unloved by him, and your insecurities got the best of you. It wasn't about the action of him refusing you, but thinking about how he could show you that much love and then quickly get tired of you. "Then, I don't understand," you said, your tone growing more agitated. "What is it that's wrong with me?"

"No, nothing is wrong with you–"

"Then why? I feel so unloved, Gyomei. You make me feel like I'm not your wife." Your voice broke as you confessed your feelings to him. Gyomei, with all his heightened senses, tried his best to gauge how you felt emotionally. However, you felt hurt so much that you walked out with haste. 

As you stepped outside, a chilling breeze swept through the air. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the sense of unease that had taken hold of you. You ran away without thinking of anything but to get away from everything until you heard the sound of the waterfall where you saw Gyomei train. You stopped to catch your breath. Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing with an eerie light.

Panic surged through you as the demon lunged towards you. You screamed, your heart pounding in your chest. Trembling with fear that was quite familiar–the night you lost your parents. With your memories flashing from that event, it did not exactly help you but added torment to your fear. You slowly try to walk away as the demon observes how it could feast on you. It was hopeless as you have no defense against him. Just as it seemed you were about to be devoured, Himejima burst out of the forest, his weapon drawn.

With a fierce cry, he engaged the demon in battle. The clash of steel echoed through the night as they fought. You watched in horror, your fear turning to relief as Himejima managed to strike a fatal blow. The demon disappeared from your sight. Exhausted and relieved, Himejima turned to you. He could sense how afraid you were, he wiped the smear of blood that splashed on your face and put away the strands of your hair that were covering your face. You clung to him, your body trembling, and your eyes tired from the whole incident that happened throughout the night. Himejima carried your body, bridal style. 

On the way home, your hand was gripping Gyomei's clothing, and the fear of the horror you witnessed still lingered on your mind. That reminded you of the night your parents were taken away from you. That night with your parents was the last time you ever encountered an attack, and you did not expect to see more of it.

It was not long until both of you returned to your house safely. Your eyes were barely open; you could feel Himejima placing you gently on a soft futon. "Gyomei," you whispered his name. Thus, with the comfort the futon gave you, your eyes gave up, and you slept.

You were awakened by the warm feeling of a huge boulder-like form. There is a slight pain in your head that didn't help much with your sight. A hot breath can be felt on top of your head. You try to collect yourself to understand the situation around you. As your eyes open, you can clearly see the problem you are in. The room was lit up with the sun's morning rays. Himejima's arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as his body faced you. You noticed that he did not have that rumbling voice as usual whenever he slept. You moved your head up to take a closer look at him and observe his face. He was sleeping peacefully. Your hand cupped his face, and your thumb rubbed his cheek.

You cannot help but wonder how precious your husband was. The memories of the night were still fresh, though you felt differently. Last night, you were attacked by a demon, and that made you recollect the memories of your late parents. The fear of last night was not mainly from the demon attack, but you realized that much of your fear comes from the thought of losing someone you love–Gyomei. You are aware that your situation with your husband has not yet been resolved, but that's barely an enigma for you to face compared to losing your beloved husband. 

Himejima was slowly waking himself up from his slumber. He moved slightly and pulled you into a tight embrace, which caused you to let out a small utter cry of pain, "Ow." With the sound of your voice, Himejima noticed that you were awake. 

"(Y/n)," he called your name and tried to pull his arms away from you. "I apologize, I hope I didn't cause you any harm."

"A little, but not at all," you told him and let out a chuckle.

Himejima did not speak a word after that as he was afraid that he might say the wrong words or do more damage to everything. Your eyes stared at him, and you could see the nervousness on his face. So, you started the conversation with him to clear the air up. 

"Gyomei–"

Before you could utter a word or so, you were cut off by Himejima. "(Y/n), I apologize for the way I made you feel. I didn't mean to push you away like that." Your eyes lit up at his words, and you were silent for a while, but you still wanted to understand him even more.

"It was hard for me to understand everything that night with the two of us. I thought you did not want any part of me anymore," you confessed.

The guilt was plain on the gentle giant's face as you spoke. He seemed worried about your well-being. "No, no. It's nothing like that. If anything, it was my mistake to push you away. I want to be with you, (y/n). I was just not accustomed to things like that, and I was afraid that if we ever reached that point, I would be able to hurt you in that." 

As you listened to his words, a wave of relief washed over you. His vulnerability and honesty were something you hadn't expected. You realized that his fear of hurting you was rooted in his own insecurities and past experiences.

"Gyomei, I understand you. I want to be with you, too. I want to experience everything with you in sickness and in health, in every pain, in every happiness, in every feeling there is. I hope you understand how I feel about you. "A curve from the Stone Hashira's face has formed, and you can tell by his expression that it is genuine.  

"Thank you. I'm glad that we talked about this," he said as he reached out to hold your hand. You felt a deep connection forming between you. It was clear that your relationship was taking a significant step forward. Gyomei planted a kiss on your forehead, and you tickled the side of his torso, which caused him to jerk a little and laugh.

This was another step forward for your relationship with Gyomei, a cathartic release of shared pain that forged a deeper bond between you as husband and wife. As you opened up to each other, a newfound understanding and empathy bloomed, strengthening the fabric of your relationship.

Part 4

[potatomountain]

Your Dream For Mine

🏴‍☠️ Pairing: Pirate Captain Hongjoong x reader

🏴‍☠️ Au: Rival Pirate Captains

🏴‍☠️ Genre: Pirate au. first love to enemies to lovers? fantasy.

🏴‍☠️ Rating: 17+ light mentions of past abuse, murder, and other pirate themes.

🏴‍☠️Word Count: 2.8k

🏴‍☠️ Network: @pirateeznet

🏴‍☠️ Event: Pirateeznet Second Anniversary, genre chosen: Pirate, chosen prompt: Rival Captains.

It had been years since you last saw him, but he still filled your mind on the daily. From your memories with him to the tales you heard with the reputation he had built. People didn’t talk about Pirates without mentioning him, or his crew, speaking with both fear and awe. Not even the Marines dared to chase him unless they were young and stupid. After all who would want to fuck with a pirate that had a literal siren on their crew?

But as he stepped into the tavern, his small crew around him chatting up a storm, he did not seem unwelcome in the tavern. You were in the port city that openly supported pirates, so that wasn’t much of a surprise. What was a surprise was how your heart still beat a little faster at the sight of him, how the sound of his laughter still sent chills down your spine, and how his smile had your lips tugging upwards even after all these years. The reaction had you downing your drink, turning to your best man and leaning in.

“That’s him. I thought they didn’t stop at this particular inn.” You asked Chan, your best man, as the Captain of the Hala, your rival of sorts, sat with his crew a few tables from yours.

Chan shrugged, sipping on his ale. “I would assume so, but you are the only one here who could recognize the Captain with your history. Not that the rest of us know the extent of it.” Your crew of The Siren knew of your personal vendetta against Hongjoong, but you had never indulged in the details. Chan knew the most, and that was just because of your shared nights with him and how long he had been with you. You trusted him with your life after all, but not with your greatest pain.

“Let’s wait and see.” You hummed out, undoing a button on your shirt, a habit you did whenever you had “prey” in sight. Your crew chuckled, talking to themselves that their maiden had found a sucker for the night. “You know the drill Chan, I entrust it all to you.” You patted his thigh and then called for another round of drinks. The men let out cheers loud enough to draw attention, but you sipped on your ale and paid no mind to the others, just hyper aware of one.

Drinks came and you could hear the retelling of stories from the lips of those that actually lived them, the crew of the Hala boasting loudly as they cheered for their own round. You could easily pick out the Siren, the vibrant pink of his hair that reminded you of the inside of a seashell, as well as some small patches of his skin looking quite pearlescent. The giles on the side of his neck were also a dead give away, and yet he was still breathtakingly beautiful. Beautiful and practically attached to the man who had your entire focus.

The jealousy that surged through you was a surprise, especially since you didn’t know who you were more jealous of: The siren for having his affection, or Hongjoong for having such a gorgeous Siren by his side.

What would it be like to be a part of his crew?

The question both shook you to the core and also gave you a wonderful idea. You leaned into Chan, smiling wickedly. “Every six months, come back here. Until I return.” It was a whim, sure, and who knew if you could actually do it-

But as you approached the table, looking them over with a smirk each just to lock eyes with him, you saw the raw emotion as he muttered your name- the name you hadn’t used in so long. “It’s been awhile, Hongjoong. I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Several of his crew muttered your name, confused but seemingly elated. “This is her Captain? The one that got away?” Ah that comment stung.

“Yes. What about your husband?” Hongjoong asked, staring you down apprehensively.

“Dead. Few years ago. That’s what happens when you’re an old man. Left me with enough of a fortune to do as I pleased though, so here I am, finally searching for that dream I had.” The dream you gave up on when he left, that twisted and turned to simply stealing his.

He looked at his crew, the Siren leaning in and whispering in his ear. He seemed to think over whatever he was told, then nodded. “Seonghwa thinks you’re pretty, says you should join us. I like that idea too. Any objections?”

One of the tall ones snarled. “You can’t be serious? Like join our crew?”

“Yes, if she wants.” Hongjoong replied with no hesitation, staring his crew member down.

“How about I start with joining you for drinks? Can’t say I have enough pirating experience to join.” A lie but they didn’t know that. Only the men that died by your hand knew that, or your crew. They wouldn’t be yours for some time now.

As the men around him nodded, you sat to his side that was unoccupied from the Siren. You had an in to what you desired most, and you were going to take it.

Swords clashed as the storm raged around you and your opponent. His men were struggling to keep the ship afloat as the waves teetered the mass left and right, the deck covered in inches of sea water that tried to sweep you both away with each step. 

None of that mattered as you dodged his blade, slashing into your shirt and knicking your skin. You quickly swung your own blade, dealing a similar wound to his side, almost evenly matched swordsmanship. Of course you were still at a disadvantage, being the lone attacker on his ship, knowing that the water was not much safer; not because of the storm but of the siren that stood watch in shock.

You could recall the events that led to the fight, because he finally caught you in a lie. Weeks at sea, getting to know the crew, almost feeling like one, and you finally let slip the extent of your experience. 

All because he talked of taking down “The Siren” which he had heard recently took down a high ranking Marine ship. Even without you, your crew was building their reputation and becoming a threat to Hongjoong. One, you realized, you and your crew hadn’t been before.

When you defended them, tried to persuade him from destroying them, he questioned you. Which resulted in your swords clashing on the deck, still trying to get answers out of you, confused by your hostility. 

“Why are you doing this?!” He called out over the crash of the waves and thunder, creating distance and holding onto the railing of the stairs. Your back hit the mast, shirt torn open and clinging to your breasts and waist. You had been enjoying the fight, and you hoped your skills would have given you away by now.

“You still haven’t figured it out?!” You called back, procuring the red gem from a pouch on your belt. He paled, sword dropping to the ground. “Really Hongjoong, I had the same dreams as you… did you really think I would settle being some old crone’s wife over a life on the sea?! That it would take me years to chase that dream?” You pocketed the gem known as the Kraken’s heart, dipping down just in time to dodge a sword that had swung from behind, bringing your leg up to connect the sole of your foot to the man’s stomach. He doubled over in pain, dropping to the ground as you rolled away from another attacker.

The crew took their Captain’s shock as an excuse to jump in an attack for him, finally realizing you were an enemy, but you dodged their attacks left and right while Hongjoong could only gawk. They were ruining the moment for you, unable to watch as recognition dawned on his face that you, his sweet innocent childhood friend, stole his precious treasure.

This was the treasure you both dreamed of obtaining some day. The talks of becoming pirates together, Captain and second in command. You would have followed him anywhere, done anything for him, and yet he left you. He left you to rot at the altar to marry another man, already out on the seas building a reputation. He was attaining a crew while you were enduring nights in an old man’s bed fulfilling his desires, just so you could avoid his fists.

Your rage had built up, festering like a poison that only consumed you more after your dear husband’s death. You built your dream pirate crew, even if you were far behind in the race, hearing more tales of Hongjoong and his adventures, which grew your blind rage even more.

Soon it was no longer about the treasured gem, but about taking everything from the man that left you. Your first love. He had been your dream, and he took it.

So you would take his.

Easier said than done as you were outnumbered, one to eight, on his ship in the middle of the sea. But you were willing to die tonight. Willing to take his dream to your grave. To do that though…

You slipped on the wet deck, wincing as one of the swords slashed at your shoulder. You rolled away, bringing your sword up to injure the man. It was San, wearing an expression of betrayal. He may be one of the few on this ship you would regret hurting, but it was not enough to deter you from your goal. Surging onto your feet, you didn’t run for the railing to the open sea, instead charging at the man you could thank for this opportunity, and the only one who could get in the way of your plan if he dove in after you.

Seonghwa’s arms came up to block your swing, but you aimed for the legs, damaging his tendons to cripple him to the ground. He cried out, falling back against the man you once loved. He caught him with ease, seeming to snap out of his daze as he asked the siren if he was alright. 

“You’re concerned about him?! REALLY?!” You screeched out, seething.

He looked confuse as his ship doctor, Yeosang, came rushing to the Siren’s side as you felt metal slice your back open.

Cursing you swiveled, lodging your sword into the side of the giant man, matching his sharp glare. “I knew you were no good.” Mingi snarled out, but you just laughed, practically dancing away from them before you could get grabbed or injured again, now leaning against the soaked railing as a wave splashed against the ship, soaking you to the bone and stinging the open wound on your back.

“You would be right-” You held up the pouch with the jewel, holding it over the edge just as the ship entered the eye of the storm, the sun shining on the Hala while the waters still raged around you. “After all, it’s no good to have a vendetta against the man who left you to rot. Kim Hongjoong, you have such a beautiful crew.” You stared at the man as he took a step forward, muttering your name. The other seven stared at you, some with clear hatred like Mingi and Wooyoung, but others with a sympathy you didn’t want to see. You spent weeks on the ship with them, learning their secrets, becoming one of them.

You shared a bed with a few of them, including the man you had shared your first with. Learned to trust some, but never completely. No matter how much you wished you could be a part of the crew, the poison which he left behind in you would not subside.

“I wish I could take your life. That I had that in me. Years as the ruthless Captain of The Siren and I can’t cut the throat of the one who wronged me the most.” You spouted out, climbing on the railing and holding onto the nearby rope as you whistled your calling, a four note melody that was often heard before your ship would attack. There were curses around, Mingi’s the loudest but Hongjoong silenced them as he stepped closer.

“You’re the Song of the Siren? You eliminated all other crews-” Hongjoong started but you cut him off quickly.

“You left me there Hongjoong. For years I waited but you never came back. Everything I wanted was gone the day you left and all I could think about was taking the same from you. I tried to outdo your reputation but because of your dear Siren that wasn’t going to happen.” Your eyes fell to the beautiful siren in question, the creature that was responsible for Hongjoong’s greatest achievements at sea. “I thought if I had a better crew that wouldn’t matter-” Your eyes took in the rest of the crew, all skilled and amazing in their own right, regretting not knowing them sooner. Just another thing Hongjoong stole from you. 

“And then I thought if I couldn’t have that, I could get to this first.” You motioned to the pouch, the wind picking up behind you as the storm was approaching again. “But I’ll just take this to the bottom of the sea, right where I should have left my love for you. Maybe then you will know the pain of losing your dream, as you were mine.”

You jumped into the sea just as the rain picked up, hearing him call your name. The icy water felt like home to your already dead heart, shutting your eyes and welcoming the burning water into your lungs.

You wanted nothing more than to sink to the bottom of the ocean, grabbed by what you hoped was the current.

Lips on yours had your eyes shooting open, recognizing Hongjoong even if you could only make out his scrunched brows over his closed eyes. He jumped in after you, breathing air into your lungs but you knew it was too late.

He was going to sink to the bottom of the sea with you. With all your cold heart, you didn’t wish for that. Wish for him to die. You let go of the gem just to push weakly at him. He could’ve grabbed the gem, but he only pulled you close.

It wasn’t enough, an odd warmth overtaking you as you lost consciousness, your mind filled with the past 10 years since the day you stood at the altar, waiting to be swept off your feet not by a prince, but a pirate.

Is that what you wish for? 

The odd voice in your head confused you, breaking through the cold water and surrounding you with warmth. Was this your death?

No, and yes. Tell me, do you regret this ending?

No… well yes.

You saw him again, entering the inn with the seven other men. He looked at them like he used to look at you, talking about adventures like the two of you used to dream of them. You remembered your first thought when you saw them, the first desire. It was even stronger now knowing that Hongjoong had all but given his life for you.

I want to be with him. With them. Being a pirate, a life on the sea… it only had appeal if it was going to be with him. You told the voice, tears burning your eyes.

As you wish.

You awoke to your name being called, Hongjoong’s familiar frown staring down at you. The scenery was familiar, the inn where you had saw him weeks ago, where you had approached with a whim of revenge, a half-baked plan. You had indulged, just for that night, in being with him again.

He looked just as he had that morning, your hickies scattered on his neck and scratches from your nails on his tattooed chest. “Hongjoong?”

“Ah, so you wake finally. Are you ready to tell me the truth?”

“What truth?” Slowly you pushed yourself up, just to notice something odd. You were back in that inn, but your body felt different, not as it had that morning.

He pointed to your chest, perhaps the answer for the odd weight you felt- the red gem was now embedded in your skin, strange markings running along your body all connecting to the gem. “Why do you have my gem? It wasn’t there last night.”

“That…” You gently ran a gentle finger over the gem, “is a good question. I think it would be quite a long story.”

Or not. It wasn’t hard to figure out. The mysterious power of the Heart of the Kraken was obvious. You were given a second chance.

How would you use it?

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[ladyofthebookcase]

i need to yap about cultural nudity in nine sols NOW. context for new followers is that i watched kill la kill this summer and really enjoyed it and the commentary it made on nudity and the desexualization of the naked body. not sure how i want to structure this so i'll just kind of block it out based on the three main characters that are relevant to this. also when i say "the text" i mean the game of nine sols as a piece of media, like how english majors would refer to the book or movie they're studying. im not an english major but i could be.

goumang: my initial reaction to seeing her was to be like "huh she's not wearing any pants that's weird", followed by "well that's probably normal for solarians, they're cat people after all so it's probably less of a big deal in their culture" and then i just didn't care about it for like the rest of the game until i replayed it and got to her again and went "oh that's right, no one else has their pussy out like that. i guess that's just a goumang thing?" and, while i think it IS probably just a goumang thing to some extent (see the post about her being pussy out because of furgonomics basically/it's comfortable for her bird legs), an interesting thing to note here is yi's complete lack of reaction to it. goumang doesn't interact with any other characters in this outfit (the jiangshi don't count cus they can say like 2 words ok), and it could be argued that yi simply has bigger priorities/is not into women, but i do think it's notable nonetheless that literally zero acknowledgement is made to the fact that goumang is just walking around pussy out. not even non-diagetic elements interact with that at all; she's never censored in her manga cutscenes or posed in a way that either hides or exposes her. what this means is that her nudity isn't really treated like nudity. the text completely ignores it! now, we also know from a dev comment that solarians are matriarchal, which i think definitely ties into the different treatment of goumang and jiequan in this regard (i.e. why he's censored and she's not, from an in-world perspective, probably is similar to the way "women's" chests are censored in our world, although non-diagetically we know why he's censored lmao.)

jiequan: ok hmm. i'm no jiegolar, so i'm open to input on this one, but the element here i find significant is that jiequan is seen interacting with another person (aside from yi) while being naked. the fact that ji is hidden behind a screen is most likely just to obscure their identity (specifically his tall form) from the viewer, since they don't seem to have a problem also going around essentially pussy out the entire game; this is to say, it's not because jiequan is naked. i will say that the jiequan naked scenes have quite a different Vibe than the goumang and lady e scenes (no seriouesly why is that one cutscene so sexually charged help) but i think it's reasonable to chalk that up to 1) jiequan is a freak and 2) he's obsessed with yi so that changes the overall vibe of their interactions as opposed to, say, goumang. yeah i don't really know what i'm saying on this topic i don't have enough jiequan brainrot experience for this really. it does kind of give the vibe of like an emperor chilling in the nude in his palace and he's allowed to do that because he's the emperor though.

hm. yeah let's move onto something i've thought a bit more about.

lady ethereal: now THIS is really interesting to me for a few reasons, the first of which being that yeah, she's hot, and the game treats her as such! and yet at the same time it doesn't oversexualise her, or portray her as attractive at the expense of her personality. in fact, once again yi makes zero acknowledgement of her nudity-- his focus is on her, and that something strange is happening to her. yi also shows no discomfort or shame about entering the hot spring-- there's no "wait, you want me to get naked?!?!?!" moment that some media might have had, and i think that's really good not only because im a sucker for different cultural and hypothetical-cultural interpretations of nonsexual nudity, but also because a moment like that would have been cheesy and annoying and made the scene less serious. the focus of that scene ISN'T that the hot lynx woman is hot, it's that there is something mentally wrong with the hot lynx woman. the fact that these scenes take place at a hot spring without the text ever interacting with the nudity of the characters is to me a really strong argument for the idea that nudity is fairly normal and definitely not inherently sexual for solarians. the idea that it is inherently sexual is a very historically recent and western thing anyway and maybe i just haven't consumed enough media where it's not portrayed that way but i found this portrayal really refreshing ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS WOMEN ok this isn't even in a gay way i literally don't care about bodies like that. i dont having sex. i just think it's really really refreshing and nice for women to be, like, able to have these kind of scenes and character moments without the text reducing the entire scene to "ohh look boobies lol". without them being censored or hypersexualised or made into a joke. rips off shirt to reveal a tattoo on my bare chest that says "I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT AFAB BODIES BEING TREATED LIKE THEY'RE INHERENTLY SEXUAL AND THE STRONG EMOTION I FEEL ABOUT THIS IS THAT IT FUCKING SUCKS". thank you for reading my essay.

[spicyspiders]

take everybody in

here's the task force 141 gangbang fanfic. it involves ghost, soap, gaz, and price. there aren't really any warnings for it i don't think other than smut.

“Oh!” You said in alarm, “I didn’t know you were still here.”

Ghost grunted and continued polishing one of the guns he had laid out on the table in front of him. 

You stood there awkwardly in the entryway of the common room. You cleared your throat before you spoke again, “can I sit?” You asked. 

Again, Ghost grunted. He waved the hand he was holding the cloth into one of the other empty couches beside the table. 

Sitting on the couch pulled the ache from the previous mission back to the surface. You tried not to make a sound, but couldn’t help the grimace of pain that stretched across your lips. 

“Price told me to keep an eye on you,” Ghost said.

When you looked up, he was staring you down, a look of concern in his eye, “it’s just a few scrapes and bruises,” you said, trying to reassure the other man. 

“Scrapes and bruises that are enough to keep you here.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, immediately regretting your tone once it was out. 

To your surprise, Ghost chuckled, “watch your tone, soldier,” he commanded. 

Shame ran over your body like an icy wind, “yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” you said quickly, keeping your eyes trained on the floor. 

For the next few moments, you could hear the sounds of Ghost cleaning the gun he held before you could hear it clatter onto the table. “Are you afraid of me, lieutenant?” He asked. 

“No, sir,” you responded but kept your eyes on the floor.

“You can’t even look at me when you say it,” Ghost said, an edge of humor to his voice. 

You forced yourself to pull your head up and look through the holes of the mask he wore, even while he was off mission and back on base, “I’m not afraid of you, sir.”

Ghost leaned back onto the couch and put his hands casually in his lap, “can I ask you another question?”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, “yes, sir.”

“You’re close with Soap, aren’t you?” He asked. 

Another chill ran through your body at his tone, but you kept your tone neutral, “we are close in age so that makes it easier to-”

“Am I not giving you enough attention?” The other man asks, cutting you off. 

You broke eye contact and furrowed your brows in confusion. You looked at the guns on the table in front of Ghost, hoping that they would give you the answer. When that didn’t work, you looked back up at him, “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t give you enough attention so you run after Soap like a lovesick puppy. Am I making sense now?”

You shook your heads at his words first before your brain could catch up for you to respond verbally, “it’s not like that,” you answered, breaking eye contact again to look down at your feet. 

You sat there, too lost in your thoughts to see the feet that had stepped in front of yours. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Ghost grabs your chin and forces your head up. 

“Do you get on your knees for him?” Ghost asked. 

You shook your head. You had Soap had shared a few stolen kisses, but nothing to that extent, “no, sir.”

Ghost was quiet for a moment, watching you over carefully. “Will you get on your knees for me?”

This time, a warm feeling ran through your body. When you nodded your head, the hand on your chin moved up to cup your cheek. His hand rested on your face for a few moments before it moved to begin opening his pants. 

True to your word, you moved the short distance from the couch to the floor to get on your knees in the space of his spread legs. 

Ghost moved to get more comfortable. He sat directly next to the spot on the couch you had just occupied and you followed him over. When he made space for you between his legs, you wanted to reach up and tear open his pants, but with the way your hands shook, you thought otherwise. 

When his pants were open, you leaned forward before he could pull down the elastic top of his underwear. 

You ran your nose along the bulge under the fabric and breathed him in. The scent of his musk filled your nose, and when you stuck your tongue out to see if you could taste the smell, Ghost let out a groan. 

“I knew you’d be eager,” he let out a breathy chuckle, “you won’t even let me get my underwear off.”

The fabric grew wetter and wetter with each pass of your tongue. You almost wanted to see how long it would take until you couldn’t taste fabric, but instead the salty taste of his precome. 

Ghost had other ideas. With a hand around the back of your neck, he pulled you back so he could raise his hips and push the fabric down. 

You only had a moment to take in the sight of his cock before something else caught your attention. 

“Took you long enough, lieutenant,” Price said from the doorway. He walked in, followed by Gaz, and then Soap. They didn’t care that you were on your knees, or that Ghost had his fucking cock out as they filed in. 

You tried to stand up, but Ghost tightened the hand he had around the back of your neck, “stay,” he commanded. 

You were still tense, but his command made a small part of you go lax. You relaxed even further when his fingers dipped under the back of your shirt to run over your skin with the pads of his fingers. 

“We were just getting started so if you all were kindly fuck off,” Ghost said to the other men. 

“With the way he’s been pining after you, we want to see how this plays out,” Price said, his tone leaving no room to argue. 

You looked up at Ghost, watching how the man’s mouth opened to say something back. His words were lost and instead came out as a breathy sigh when you ran your tongue along his cock from root to tip. 

“Someone’s got the right idea,” Gaz said. 

When you sucked the head of his cock into your mouth, it didn’t take long for it to grow fully hard. You pulled off to wrap a hand around the base of his cock. Once you had pulled the foreskin down and revealed the head of his cock, you traced your tongue around the bottom of the head. 

You looked up when you heard a soft thump. Ghost had thrown his head back onto the back of the couch at the pleasure your mouth gave. 

“Are you just going to hog him all to yourself?” Price questioned. 

Ghost pulled his head up and glared at Price, “if it gets you all to fuck off faster.”

Price and Gaz were behind you in a flash. You tried to turn back and look at them, but the hand on the back of your neck that had fallen as you sucked Ghost off was back to hold your head in place. 

They were rough as they pulled your clothes off, and Soap was the one to voice his concern. If you could even call it that.

“Easy, boys. We’re dealing with damaged cargo,” he said, pulling a laugh from all of the men in the room. Instead of getting with Price and Gaz, he instead fell to his knees beside you. He pressed a quick kiss on your cheek, bringing a soft smile to your face. 

“Eyes on me,” Ghost said, pulling your attention back to him. 

You were quick to wrap your mouth around the head of his cock. You tried to take it all the way down so you could bury your nose in the thatch of pubic hair above his cock, but you had to pull off when the head nudged the back of your throat and you gagged. 

You pulled off with a gasp, the tears that had gathered as you took him down your throat had fallen when you pulled off. You tried to apologize, but Ghost running his fingers along your swollen lips stopped you. 

“Easy, baby. It’s not going anywhere,” he said, his voice coming out rough.

“Okay?” Soap whispered into your ear. 

When you nodded, Soap lifted his fingers to wipe the tears from your face. You could feel the warmth of your tears on your throat when his fingers went down to run softly along the skin. “You gotta relax that pretty throat of yours,” he whispered again in your ear. 

You nodded and watch as Soap moved closer to Ghost. Your eyes grew wide as you watched him take the head of his cock into his mouth before going down the length slowly. Soap went down with ease until his nose was pressed into the pubic hair at the base. 

Ghost’s cock was wet with spit when Soap pulled off. You couldn’t tell what was yours and what was his by sight, and by taste gave the same result. What you could taste was the salty tang of Ghost’s precome when you pulled Soap into a kiss.

It was messy and wet, stirring a hot feeling in your gut. The kisses you had shared before were different. Softer and used as a means of comfort. With this newer one, you were eager to respond, eager to spread your legs when Soap’s hand dipped in between to palm at your cock. 

You moaned into his mouth as your hips jerked up, yearning for release. 

“Enough,” Ghost said, grasping your shoulder tightly to pull you away. “Get your fill because after this, he’s only mine to fuck.”

“I can fuck him, but can’t kiss him?” Soap asked in disbelief. 

Ghost didn’t respond, only pulled you up by your shoulder so you rested in his lap. He was warm, even through the clothing he was wearing. The fabric prickled your naked skin, making you realize that you were the only one in the room fully naked. 

You barely had time to focus on that as Ghost pulled his mask up and pulled you in with a hand at the back of your neck into a kiss. You didn’t know how long it took you to realize it was your first with Ghost, but when you did, you moaned against the plush skin of his lips.

As your first ended, another began right after. You relaxed in his lap, and spread your legs to make room for his thighs. You wanted to reach down and wrap a hand around your cocks but Ghost moved his hands to wrap around your hips and pulled your body flush with his. It created a delicious pressure against your cock, one that you wanted to drive your hips forward into, but the tight grip on your hips kept you from moving. 

The way your legs were spread left you wide open. At least, wide open enough for a wet finger to circle your hole before sinking in. You couldn’t tell who it was opening you up, the others had gone quiet watching the display shortly after they had come in. 

A second finger quickly followed the first, spreading you open with its thickness. The wet noise of the fingers spearing you open joined the soft smack of your lips as you both kissed. You were too wrapped up in Ghost: his hands running up and down your sides, the warmth and wetness of his tongue in your mouth, and the breathy noises he would make when you would pull back from the kiss and bite down softly on his bottom lip. 

What tore your focus was when the finger inside you found your prostate. When the sparks of its pleasure shot through you, your head fell back. You gasped, trying to catch your breath, only to have it taken from you when the fingers would make contact again. 

Ghost followed the collum of your sweaty neck to attach his lips to the sensitive skin. By the time a third finger was joining the other two, you were sure there were a few spots of your neck that now adorned the marks Ghost left with his mouth. 

You whimpered when the three fingers left your hole, leaving you feeling empty. You sat waiting in anticipation for what you knew was next. 

Ghost moved his hands down to the globes of your ass cheeks and spread you open. One of his fingers circled your hole, but pulled away for something bigger to take its place. 

“Ready?” It was Price at your back, the head of his cock kissing your hole. 

You nodded and ducked your head into Ghost’s neck when his cock began pushing in. You were left gasping as he slowly bottomed out. With nowhere to run, you could only dig your nails in Ghost’s sides as your body opened up for Price’s girth. 

Price was an attractive man, you could easily admit, but it wasn’t like you laid awake at night thinking about how he fucks. Not like you did with Ghost. So it wouldn’t really feel right to say you were surprised by how he fucked you. 

You had seen these four men take lives many times, so you were used to seeing their rougher sides. Price fucked like how he commanded his squad: steady and firm. 

His hands started on your hips, keeping them in a firm grip as he pulled out and thrusted back in. By the feel of his fingers on your sides, you guessed it was him that had fingered you open. His cock had an easier job at finding your prostate than his fingers had, and when you let out a loud groan the head of his cock met your prostate, Price angled his thrusts to make sure it was hit on every thrust. 

He grunted behind you each time he fucked his cock inside. His noises grew higher and louder as his hands rose up your body. His fingers were tight on your shoulder, digging into the muscle as his rhythm stuttered and faltered as he approached his edge. 

It was quicker than you expected when his hips stilled on one final thrust inside, the man behind you letting out a loud moan. 

“Fuck,” Price breathed as his orgasm washed over him. He ran his hands slowly down your back before he pulled out slowly. 

“You all brought condoms,” you observed when you craned your neck around to look at them, “did you fucking plan this?”

“Are you complaining?” Gaz asked, stepping up behind you. He wasted no time in pressing inside, right into where Price just was. 

Price who fucking steps up and pats you on the head like you just won a game, “thank you, lad,” he says before leaving. 

You had felt your orgasm steadily approaching as Price was fucking you, but Ghost always stopped it by wrapping a tight hand around the base of your cock before spreading your ass cheeks back open again.

“Please,” you whimpered into his mouth after he pulled you into a kiss, trying to distract you from how your orgasm was quickly approached again as Gaz fucked you. 

Gaz fucked you in quicker motions, faster than Price. The slap of skin-on-skin rang loud through the room, just as loud as your moans. Each time you would let out a noise, Gaz would soon follow after, letting you know just how good your body was making him feel. 

“Come on, Ghost, be a good boyfriend and let him come,” Gaz said to Ghost. He stopped thrusting and waited for his response, inturn, he grinded his hips against your ass. 

You clenched down on his cock, trying to get spur him on again. To your dismay, and aching cock, it didn’t work. Gaz only let out and gasp and squeezed down on your hips hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Fine,” Ghost said. 

This time, when your orgasm approached as Gaz began fucking you again, you could only surrender to its intense pleasure. 

Soap yelling was the first thing you registered as you came back down. You must have blacked out from the intensity, and came to with Ghost holding you, his arms wrapped protectively around you, holding your body to his now shirtless chest. Not that you enjoyed passing out, but if you had to pass out into somebody's chest, you were glad it was the solid expanse of Ghost's chest.  

“You fucking broke him!” Soap yelled. 

“I’m fine,” you slurred out, your voice sounding rough. You squirmed around in Ghost’s arms, trying to get the man to loosen his grip. Your oversensetive cock rubbed against his hard stomach, sending shocks of overstimulation through your body, but you put your hands behind you, where Ghost’s had been through this whole ordeal to spread yourself open.

You could feel and hear the harsh breath Soap lets out as it fans over the back of your neck, “I’m not going to last.”

“That’s okay,” you crane your neck to look at Soap, “please, will you fuck me?” You ask.

Soap does fuck you, but only after ducking his head down to press his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. His tongue presses inside your mouth, swallowing up the noises you make as he bottoms out ever so slowly. 

You fall back onto his chest when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. He presses wet kisses into the skin of your neck, avoiding the marks Ghost already made. He ignores how the other man glares at him, but you don’t.

“Can I?” You ask softly when you bring your fingers up to his face to where his mask still sits. 

Ghost nods and you run your fingers over his lips before pulling the mask up slowly. You’ve seen his face before, and it’s still as handsome as you remember. His eyes are nearly black, blown wide with lust, and nearly the same color as the mask you just took off. 

Ghost meets you halfway as you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft, like you’re two normal people that are about to end a first date. His lips are tentative, the complete opposite of how they were earlier. 

“Aren’t you two adorable,” Soap says and Ghost is quick to pull back and respond. 

“Fuck off,” he barks. 

You guide his mouth back to yours with your hands, pressing your smile to his lips. You feel your cock twitch, growing hard against the Ghost’s abs. 

Soap tries to reach around to wrap a hand around your hardening cock, but Ghost knocks it away, instead wrapping his hand around it himself. 

To your surprise, he wraps a large hand around the both of your cocks. You let out a noise of protest that quickly becomes a moan of please when Soap pulls out and thrusts back in. “Want you to fuck me,” you whine. 

“Not tonight,” Ghost responds. He presses a kiss to your lips, a smile of his own pressing to yours. 

You pull away from the kiss and press your forhead to his, gasping into his mouth as he strokes the two of your cocks together. When you can feel the sweaty press of Soap’s forhead to the back of your neck, you place a hand on one of the arms still wrapped tightly around you. 

You stay awake this time, drinking in the noises and watching the blissed out expression fall over his face as Ghost comes. His strong chest heaves up and down as comes shoots from his cock to paint your chests. You fight to keep your eyes open and not let them roll back into your head as you go over edge. 

You almost don’t notice when Soap comes, too busy rubbing the mix of your comes into Ghost’s sweaty chest. When his arms unravel from around you, Ghost is there to catch you as you fall forward into his chest. 

“Where’s Gaz?” you ask, trying to stifle a yawn. 

“He went to go gloat at Price for how he made you come so hard you passed out,” Soap says pulling the condom off his softening cock. He tosses it in a trashcan in the corner, and stops when he gets to the entryway, “Price said you both have to disinfect this room tomorrow.”

You both ignore him, too wrapped up in each other to care, even if you were both sticky and sweaty and gross.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 30

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 27, part 28, part 29

“Thank you for inviting me over, again,” Wayne says as Claudia puts the casserole on the table. “It’s been a while since I’ve eating something other than hospital food.”

“Oh please, it’s no trouble at all,” she assures. “I’ve been asking Dusty to invite you over for weeks now. It never hurts to have a homemade meal. Especially when everything around us is so crazy.”

She has literally been asking Dustin to invite Wayne over for weeks. It gets brought up almost every night at dinner. He would have earlier, but he didn’t want to be an imposition. There was enough going on, Wayne didn’t need to answer all of his mom’s questions. Dustin having to dodge them was already hard enough.

But he knew that she would never stop asking. So finally, to give both him and his mom a break, from being asked and asking respectively, he extended the invitation. Making sure to stress that Wayne did not have to take it. And Dustin would bring the news to his mother and make sure that she never brought it up again.

That is not what happened, though. Wayne had taken a second to think and then thanked Dustin. Said it would be nice to finally meet his mom. And now they were meeting, and it totally wasn’t awkward as Claudia asks about every little thing known to man.

She means well, Dustin knows that. But questions can go from harmless to hurtful in seconds. Wayne’s been through enough heartache the past two months, he didn’t need more.  

“So, I hear that Eddie is doing well in his physical therapy.”

“Uh yeah,” Wayne says. Pushing his food around his plate a bit. “He’s gaining a lot of his strength back. A few more weeks and he might be able to come home.”

It might be less than a few weeks. Eddie’s been recovering a lot faster than the doctor’s initially thought. He’s able to stand, for short periods of time, with just some crutches or a walker. And he’s starting to be able to lift more with his arms. Realistically, he might be able to come home next week.

“Oh, well isn’t that great. I’m sure he will be glad to go home and sleep in his own bed.”

Except Eddie doesn’t have a real bed. Wayne’s been staying in a motel for months now. The upside down splitting his house in two. Ruining almost everything that they had.

“Mom,” Dustin whispers. “We talked about this.”

Dustin sees the optimistic look on his mother’s face fall. Realizing her wording and the faults that lie within it.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I just meant that Eddie would be happy to sleep anywhere other than the hospital. That’s all.”

Wayne shakes his head. “I know. And I appreciate the sentiment. I’m sure he will be happy to get out of there.”

Dustin knows that he will. He’s been itching for something different. The neutral walls of the hospital and channels full of soap operas getting boring fast. The constant check-ins. The tests. Everything you would expect from a hospital. But it gets repetitive and annoying after a while. Especially when Eddie claims he doesn’t need half that crap now anyway.

He’s probably lying. Or being stubborn. But Dustin can’t help but agree to some extent. Until the little voice in his heads reminds him of what’s outside the walls of the hospital, and the world Eddie’s going to walk back into.

People have generally calmed down as time went on. The posters with taunts written in bright red ink have started to slow. The vandalism on Eddie’s locker is starting to fade. Less things get thrown at Dustin and the rest of the guys. People are starting to forget the manhunt. Their focus turned on the warming weather and making it through the last month of school.

The only thing that bothers him is the fact that Eddie hasn’t been seen in almost two and a half months. If he’s including the week of spring break. All the press had to right their articles where old pictures from the yearbook and anything they could get from the people who hated him. There’s no telling what the headlines will be once Eddie’s discharged.

As hard as Hopper has tried, Eddie is still branded as a suspect in the eyes of the public. The government is really dragging their feet to clean up their mess this time around. And there is no reliable person to pin this on like last time. The lab in Hawkins hasn’t been active in two years. It was in Nevada or wherever the hell El was while getting her powers back. And the quake can’t explain the string of murders, like the mall fire cover up did.

They’re at the dead end trying to fix this, but Eddie should be in the clear. There’s just that string of doubt that refuses to break in his mind.

“I’ve been seeing a lot of houses put up for sale in the paper,” Claudia continues their conversation. “Have you been looking at any of them?”

“A few. But nothing’s set in stone yet. I’ve been trying to get a place before Eddie gets out, but he might beat me to it.”

A house would definitely help the possible problems swirling around in Dustin’s mind. Eddie would have a place to hide. A bed that might be more comfortable than a motel’s. And a place where he can feel safe. Without the possibility of an eviction for poor company.

“Well, if you need help, I can give you the number of the realtor we used when we moved to town. If she’s still here, that was almost ten years ago. But she got us a great deal on this house, below asking price. With the way people are flooding out of this town, you should be able to get a good deal on one.”

Wayne smiles. “I’d love that, if you could.”

After the dinner, Claudia searches for the old business card of their realtor in the junk drawer. She finds it, somehow, and hands it to Wayne. Who thanks her for the meal and a great evening. Then goes on his way.

Dustin’s beginning to have a spark of an idea. It could work, he just needs to do some convincing.

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[veritas-scribblings]

radiate - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 1,244 [warnings: discussions of religion]

There’s this church in Mayfair. Every Sunday at 11am, Barty goes to the park opposite and sits on the fence and chain smokes as he waits patiently to catch a glimpse. A glimpse is all he needs. It will sustain him, fuel him for the week to come. It will nourish his soul. Save him. Raise him up. Lift him high.

It never takes Barty long at all to spot Regulus. He’d spot him blind in the dark. He knows Regulus from the way Regulus carries himself. From the line of his shoulders, which are always so tense. From the scowl permanently written across Regulus’s face as though the mere existence of the world deeply offends him.

Barty takes a long draw from his cigarette and blows smoke into the air. Regulus always looks like the weight of his thoughts have grown heavier each time he leaves that church. Like someone has laid his all of his sins out before him. Regulus already has a complex relationship with religion (his family is already a fucking cult) and whatever bullshit they’re spewing behind those walls is only further complicating things.

Regulus glances across the road. He knows that Barty waits there each Sunday. Walburga knows too, Regulus says, and makes disparaging comments about “that boy” who sits on the fence and smokes. “A filthy, disgusting habit,” she will say. “Only sinners smoke.”

Regulus’s gaze lingers on Barty for just a moment, and in that moment Barty is sure Regulus can read his thoughts. Meet me, he thinks desperately, the fear and longing a mangled, dark monster within him. Meet me. Come to me. Fuck your church and fuck your God. Let me save you.

Come evening, the rain falls in sheets and the wind is unforgiving. Barty is chilled to the bone, to his very soul, and it isn’t just the wind and the rain that batters against him as he stands on the footpath outside the church. It’s the weight of everything bearing down on him: his fears that he isn’t enough to save Regulus, his fears that he will lose Regulus to his family, that the Blacks will devour Regulus whole and leave only the empty shell of Regulus behind.

When Barty was younger, during his ‘cusp of adolescence’ years, he would sometimes find himself oscillating between ‘it’s probably better not to tempt fate’ and ‘let’s fuck around and find out’. Like he would enjoy nothing more than to climb a ladder to the roof of their school’s building and flip the sky the bird so he could wait and see if Regulus’s God will smite him where he stands.

These days, Barty is just sure there’s no higher power involved in anyone’s lives. It simply would not make any sense. Because if there is, the higher power is a sick and twisted son of a bitch unworthy of anyone’s worship.

“I’d say at this stage that what you’re doing is almost considered harassment,” Barty says. “Give the woman a break, she’s heard it all. Multiple times.”

This is the way Barty sees it: the God that religion wants is a woman, the God that religion has is a man. No further explanations needed.

The church in Mayfair is dimly lit inside. Regulus sits in the pews, his forehead resting on the backs of his hands, which grip the pew in front of him. He’s praying, Barty knows. Or more like, he’s harassing his God with every thought and worry he has in his mind. And Regulus has an endless supply of thoughts and worries…so Barty supposes to some extent that having an invisible counsellor makes some sort of sense.

When Regulus doesn’t look up, Barty says, his voice husky and cracking, “Fuck your God. All the boring sons of bitches go to heaven, anyway. I reckon hell’s where the party’s at. We’ll fuck on our way down, enter hell with a bang.”

This gets Regulus’s attention, as Barty knew it would, because Barty is nothing if not an expert at poking Regulus’s buttons. Regulus has never quite understood how Barty can be so very blazé about things such as who loves whom, and who has sex with whom, and who has knowledge of who loves whom and who has sex with whom. Whereas Barty has never quite understood Regulus’s hang-ups. It’s not so much that love and loving others comes naturally to Barty; it’s just that he’s more of the ‘who gives a flying fuck what others think’ party.

And Regulus has never been able to separate himself from what others might potentially think.

Barty slides onto the bench next to Regulus. “You ran away the other day. Before I could say I—” Barty places his hand on top of Regulus’s, which is cold and gripping the back of the pew tightly, “Reg, I love you,” he says hurriedly.

There’s something missing in the air between them, the way that Regulus would have once said, “I love you, too,” so easily. Before Barty had refused to keep ignoring how things had changed between them and love no longer meant "I want you at my side", but instead, "I want to keep you inside me".

Barty surges forwards and kisses Regulus. It’s a closed-mouth kiss, taking Regulus off-guard so that he is for a moment paralysed with how to respond. They’ve done this before, back when they were fourteen and Barty had wanted to try out kissing and trying it out on Regulus, his forever best friend, had made so much sense to him.

That, back then, had been a chaste kiss. This kiss is anything but. It’s desperate and fierce, messy and intermingled with tears that Barty is sure are Regulus’s. And this kiss is very much one-sided as Regulus doesn’t respond immediately, though he also doesn’t push Barty away. He merely lets himself be kissed, lips parting ever-so-slightly, like he thinks that if he is not an active participant in the interaction that he cannot be faulted for it.

“I love you,” Barty breathes against Regulus’s lips, and Regulus makes a sound that is so broken it chips away at Barty’s heart. Because how can Barty make Regulus understand the enormity of his love for him? How can Barty make Regulus understand that he’s loved him for years in every way it’s possible to love someone?

“Barty,” Regulus breathes out, and in his name Barty hears, I love you, too. And, I need you, too.

Pressing back into the kiss, Barty pulls Regulus so close that Regulus all but crowds into his lap. Finally, Regulus responds and the kiss is no longer one-sided. Warmth pools low into Barty’s belly. He slips his hands under Regulus’s shirt to run over the smooth, warm skin of Regulus’s back. There is barely any space between them, and Barty can feel through Regulus’s movements in his lap that Regulus is quickly unravelling.

Barty slides his hand up Regulus’s neck to tip his head back and deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth. He wants more than he has wanted almost anything else. He wants to watch Regulus come apart. He wants to feel him, hear him, experience him.

He knows that it’s a bad idea to do this in a church, particularly one with a congregation so conservative, but Barty’s never met a bad idea he doesn’t like. And Regulus’s God can come for Barty if they have any qualms about this happening.

They can come for Barty. Or they can try. Because, Barty thinks, he is prepared and they won’t know what hit them.

[fancyfeathers]

Can I request a yandere Ranpo with a fem darling that works at her family's bakery and they decorative a cake or smth? (It's a date)

I see them meeting each other when the ada was still relatively new. The bakery was like a 5 min walk away. They just happened to get closer over time. For example (darling wanted him to try new items cuz she knew he was gonna be honest with her)

May it also be on the more fluffier side of things?

Make sure to take care of yourself bestie (◔‿◔)

Sugarcoated

(Yandere Ranpo X reader)

“Oh (Name)! Hello?” From your spot in the kitchen you hear the front door of the shop open and close. It was past closing so that meant it was only one person, Ranpo. 

“In the back!” You shouted back as you made your way to the fridge to pick up the sheets of cake you had made earlier for tonight. Just as you set them on the counter you felt two arms wrap around you from behind. You giggled as you felt the detective burry his face in your neck, right where your neck and jawbone meet and planted little kisses all over it. “Hey! Knock that off, it tickles!” 

After a few more he finally stopped, giving you a chance to spin around and give him a peck on the cheek. Ah yes, Ranpo, the detective you hand been dating for the last year or so. You met on his practically daily visits to the bakery either before work, for lunch, or after, sometimes if may be two or more. He definitely wasn’t the most humble to say the least, often bragging about his ability (which you questioned if he even had) but he was always sweet to you. Which leads you to your current situation, spending your one year anniversary in your family’s bakery. Your parents had let you close up early and by yourself so you and Ranpo could have the place to yourselves.

You had planned this, with a few suggestions from him, cake decorating. This in reality was mostly your frosting the cake while he put sprinkles or whatever else on top along with eating the leftover frosting with a spoon while you leaned up a bit. So now while you’re sitting in relative silence, his head resting on your shoulder in the break room of the bakery, waiting for the now decorated cake to chill in the fridge while you scrolled the news, you saw something that caught your eye. “Hey Ranpo, you should see this.”

You passed him the phone that was pulled up to a news reporter of a mysterious bomb threat to be at a local park not to far from here or the agency. With everything that was happening in Yokohama lately it felt dangerous to even step outside, but ag least to some extent you felt safe with Ranpo. You watched as he read the article. With not a word he turned the phone off and set it on the table, you both sat in silence for a long moment before he spoke up, his voice not the happy home it usually is around you. “I want you to move in with me, (Name).”

“What?” This felt so sudden and almost off topic, it took you by surprise. “Why are you asking me this now? I just showed up you that story-”

“That’s exactly why.” He cut you off, sliding one of his hands down to hold one of your own. “It’s becoming more dangerous everyday, I want to make sure you’re somewhere safe even when I’m not here. Please, (Name).”

“I’ll think about it, I mean this just feels so sudden.” You said, slightly unsure of your boyfriend’s suggestion.

“Please, for me?”

“Well… I’m-“ before you could finish responding Ranpo’s phone rang. You let him answer and you could vaguely hear his coworker’s voice on the line, Kunikida you think. You could make out to words bomb, threat, and park. You guessed this was about the article you had shown him. When ypthe ended you smiled and changed the topic, hoping he wouldn’t change it back after that. “Seems like Detective Ranpo is on the case, hm?”

“Right you are, love!” He said with a wide smile, seemingly coming out of nowhere, but that’s just Ranpo. He stood up and bent over to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll be back soon, don’t eat the cake without me.”

You watched as he put his hat back on and made his way towards the door, stopping before it opened. “Hey, (Name)?”

“Hm?”

“Everything I'm doing is to keep you safe, please know that.” He said glancing over at you. “Just think about it, moving in with me.”

Before you could respond you saw him leave, the door clicking shut behind him and you heard the sound of the main door being opened and closed with the sound of the bell. You fingers unconsciously reached up to your lips, still sugary sweet from Ranpo’s kisses, sugarcoated like the words he told to keep you near him…

…just as overly sweet…

.

[jangofettjamz]

Overwhelming

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: Your were nervous about going to the Scream 6 premiere, but it turned out to be a lot of fun... until it wasn't.

Words: 1993

3rd Person POV

The premiere for scream 6 was but a few hours away. Tensions rose as Y/N tried to prepare himself for the event, despite being an actor he has very secluded and did not enjoy the limelight as much as his fellow peers.

He had been trying to muster up the courage to become more socially involved in his work such as: going to interviews, late night shows, going to dinner with directors etc. Unfortunately, It just seemed for too difficult.

However, this time was different. He was going to try this time; to attend a premiere. He knew this would be no easy feat, the camera flashes alone would overstimulate him into madness but he was determined, scared but determined nonetheless.

His girlfriend and co-star, Jenna Ortega has been helping him to confront his fear of social interaction through love and support. She had studied his language and helped him navigate in a world that didn't understand him.

Y/N has also made a life long friend in Mikey Madison, who also happened to be close with Jenna. Though she never was on the set of scream 6 due to her character dying in the previous film, she remained close with the cast and crew and treated him as an equal.

Y/N, although adamant in his choice to attend the premiere, was still absolutely terrified at the thought of hundreds of people in one space wanting him to sign autographs, take photos and pose on the red carpet. It made him feel ill.

Jenna was his shield from everything. She promised to protect him from the cameras, should he not want his photo taken. She promised to protect him from the hyper fans who have little regard for personal space.

"Alright sweetie, I've got all your stuff in my bag: stim toys, plushie and snacks if you need one. If you need a break or want to leave just tell me, your comfort is my number one priority."

One problem; Jenna didn't pack the headphones and Y/N was too stressed to even remember them aswell. The noise would likely send Y/N spiralling.

"Jenna how many people are gonna be there?"

"Atleast a thousand people honey" she says sadly knowing that this was going to be tough for Y/N.

"We don't have to go you know, we can just chill here for the night." She suggests not really thinking of the consequences that could have on her career.

"Wouldn't you get in trouble?" Y/N asks but imm receives an answer.

"I don't care, as long as your comfortable it's worth it" she states making Y/N feels warm inside, like a scarf wrapping him up in the cold winter but on the inside.

"It'll be fine Jen', we're all ready to go now anyway so there's no point in backing out now." He reassures making her form a toothy smile.

"Besides I know how much this movie means to you and I wanna make you happy aswell." She approached him with loving intent.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "Can i kiss you?" She asked, knowing he doesn't like spontaneous kisses without permission. He nods and she kisses him lovingly which he reciprocates, light pink blush painting his cheeks.

Their private car soon arrived and they made their way to premiere. Y/N was on edge, he wasn't as excited so much as he was nervous.

Jenna held his hand rubbing soothing circles with her thumb and he put his head on her shoulder as she held him tight around his waist for the rest of the car journey.

-

The premiere was more packed than usual, containing around 2230 people; far more than they anticipated. The movie drew more hype than Y/N and Jenna thought possible, some just there to see Jenna.

This troubled Y/N, yes he had prepared to undertake an entire crowd but not to this extent. Jenna could sense his fear as if she was some sort of telepath and held his hand tight.

He started to stim by clicking him fingers and tapping him knees, though seemed futile as the feeling of overstimulation didn't seem to falter.

"Y/N/N, do you need your stim toys?" He nodded violently, starting to sweat as the noises from outside became more irritable.

She grabbed a fidget cube for him to play with for as long as he needed until they had to walk onto the red carpet. He slowly leaned back into her shoulder and she held him tightly again, placing feather light kisses on his scalp.

"Remember, we can always leave if you want." She reminded him wanting to make feel as safe as possible.

"I'm gonna be with you the entire time okay, Mikey's gonna be there too and she'll protect you aswell; we both will I promise." He nodded and took deep breaths while Jenna rubbed soothing circles on his back.

He took one final deep breaths before opening the door of the car and out into wilderness of: fans, paparazzi, reporters and fellow actors. He was gonna hate this.

He instantly grabbed a hold of Jenna's hand and she squeezed tightly letting him know that she's there. Fans wanted to Jenna to sign stuff for them, but she made it a point that she's putting his comfort first, much to their dismay.

"Let's go find the others okay, I heard Jack's here aswell and I know how much you two get along." Jack Quaid visited set often in vancouver when he wasn't Filming for The Boys and the two of them clicked because of their shared nerdiness.

Jenna and Y/N made their way up the red carpet and were called for an interview by Vanity Fair. Y/N considered his options, he could either do this interview with Jenna by his side and be extremely uncomfortable or walk away and still be extremely uncomfortable. The choices were negligible so he figured he'd do the interview.

They walked hand in hand over to the interviewer for Vanity Fair. "Well hello you two, how are feeling about tonight's premiere." She started

Jenna was the first to respond. "I'm so excited, I can't wait for everyone to see this film we worked so hard on it and I think fans are gonna be very satisfied with what we've created." She says smiling.

"Y/N L/N so lovely to see you at the premiere, how was filming with veteran talent like Courtney Cox and Hayden Panettiere?"

He answers "They're very lovely people and easy to work with too. This film project is probably my favourite one I've done thus far." The interviewer asked more questions before promptly ending the interview.

"It was very lovely speaking to you two, congratulations on the movie." Jenna looks at Y/N with a proud look on her face which made Y/N's heart do cartwheels.

She cups his face making eye contact with him. "You did so well Y/N, I'm so proud of you for getting through that interview. You should be proud of yourself too."

Y/N kisses her on the cheek thankful for her words of encouragement, he felt elated on this new found confidence, he wanted to do more and that's exactly what he did.

"Y/N/N!!!" He heard and he saw Mikey and immediately tackled her into a hug. She had become a very good friend to him.

"I'm so glad you came, you having fun?" She asked and he was indeed having a good time.

"Yeah you know what, I think I am having fun." He said with a wide grin.

Everything went great, he did more interviews, conversed with his co-stars and even took a few pictures with fans. He was having a good time... until he wasn't.

The next interview he did was with Fox News and they did not hold back on their questions. He and Jenna both went up to talk with them.

"Hello Miss Ortega and Mr L/N, how's you're evening?" she starts "It's going great, we're having a wonderful night" Y/N answers with tremendous enthusiasm, which will be snuffed out soon.

"Y/N is it true you have spaz attacks when people are screaming on set?" He was confused, Jenna was pissed.

"I'm sorry?" He says politely but still confused. "We heard that you have spaz attacks on set, it would be really unprofessional if you did you know." Now he was annoyed "spaz attacks" who does she think she is?

"I don't have meltdowns on set, or "spaz attacks" as you call them when people scream on set. The screaming is on script so why would I complain? Has anyone ever told you you're extremely unprofessional and terrible at your job?" He says, his voiced laced with venom.

Jenna snickered, she was proud of him for taking a stand for himself, plus she thought is was hot. But that confidence soon faded.

The interviewer says under her breath "Yeah well atleast I'm not a retarded spaz like you" just low enough for the camera's not to pick up but Y/N and Jenna heard it well. Jenna was PISSED.

Suddenly Y/N felt his confidence diminish, the voices around him became louder, the camera flashes became more irritable, creating spots in his vision. He could practically hear all the clicks and cracks coming from each of the cameras as they snap photos.

The colors around him became more and more irritable to look at; too bright so he clamped his eyes shut. The voices and music hammered his ears drums, he held his hands to his ears and started to hyperventilate, thoat closing up in the process. He was having a meltdown.

Jenna saw this and instantly whisked him away from the crowd and into the theatre, they found a quiet corner and begun their techniques. She searched through her bags only to find that his headphones weren't there, he started to panic.

He babbled uncontrollably, he needed his headphones to block the noise. She pulled out her headphones that she carried with her 24/7 and moved his hands and put them over his head; noise cancelling too so that helped.

Once she put her headphones on his head she began to speak. "Honey, can I hold you?" She says, her voice quiet and muffled due to the headphones but he nodded nonetheless.

"We're gonna rock okay?" She says and he nods they begin to sway side to side. His head was in her chest and her head on the top of his, she was his safe space and he was so thankful.

After a few minutes he took the headphones off, but was still feeling non-verbal. Jenna continued her rocking as she began to speak.

"What she said was bullshit, you know that don't you?" He shrugged in response. "Sweetie, you're not a spaz or retarded or whatever horrible words she called you, she's just a bitch and she will be dealt with, believe me."

He nodded against her chest. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, buddy. I hope you didn't regret coming here." He shook his head, he didn't regret it and he had fun.

She pulled something out of her bag. "Here, I've got your ghostface plush. You wanna take him with you while we watch the film?" He nodded and they made their way into the screening.

They sat down and Y/N put his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair to keep him regulated, keeping a vice grip around his body as they watched their new movie.

In moments like these he felt safest, like no could hurt him as his girlfriend shields him from all the bad things in the world. It felt like home. She felt like home.

Despite everything that just happened, he was very happy.

[ichnoviriform]

yknow, i can only assume people who think Inspekta is somehow unaware of the extent of Capochin's feelings took everything he said at face value & didn't think back on them once they'd finished the game

Because....manipulating everyone is all Inspekta does. It's the entire game!

he:

-kidnaps King (who "could bring the gods together") and distributes letters to the other gods explicitly targeted to shatter them & divide their followers

-prevents the Bizzyboys from actually doing their jobs, instead giving them fake orders

-stripped the Bizzyboys of individuality by taking their names + giving them a new dresscode (I'd assume until recently there wasn't a mandate on haircut)

And....the entire way he treats the Godpoke. He 'suggests' you chill out and just enjoy your vacation. He wants you to stop interfering! He's manipulating you here, not genuinely praising you! Inspekta's whole schtick is the fake cutesy I'm-kewt-and-harmless act!! "You did a good job now take a snack break and leave the rest to us" = "piss off, the Bizzyboys are doing a shit job investigating because those were my orders!" his mistake there is treating you like a Bizzyboy, his only point of reference for treating people in 33 years, and expecting you to say "yaay thanks boss ^_^ i love doing nothing~"

He plays Capochin off against you by praising you and calling you his new right hand man (sorry, 'yam'), angering Capo into attacking you, because he needs you to stop prodding but can't do it himself. His apology to you afterward isn't genuine, he's pushing the blame off of himself.

..so after all of that, do you really think he is unaware of what makes Capo tick? That Inspekta isn't actively using those feelings to manipulate him? Excessively praising him when he does what Inspekta wants, and otherwise hinting that maybe Capo's getting too stressed, maybe the job's a bit too much...maybe someone younger should take up his role...... Keeping him exactly where 'Speks wants him!

[decaf-mother]

"Happy New Year!!!"

-

MDNI

-

Kurt Wagner x GN!Reader

-

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Possibly OOC

-

The party was fun to an extent- you enjoyed being around the others but... It got to be too much as usual, the loud music and varying conversations was overwhelming, making it feel like your lungs were caving in and your ears were going to explode.

There was one mutant who realized your discomfort almost immediately, his yellow eyes catching sight of you off in the corner of the room.

In a disorienting 'poof' you had been grasped gently by two blue three-fingered hands and teleported outside.

The sounds coming from inside were in the background now, the crisp fresh air filling your lungs and the less intense atmosphere helping you wind down into a feeling of relief, Kurt politely moving out of your personal space now.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah... Just- not really good at loud environments, y'know?"

A few heartbeats pass in the silence, not much conversation needed. It's New Year's Eve... A time to be celebrated. Part of you expected Kurt to head back inside to the others but instead he stayed out here with you, he seems content to just watch the stars.

"You... Don't have to stay out here with me."

"I want to."

A shiver passes through your body from the cold winter breeze, there's a slight shuffling and he wordlessly drapes his jacket over your shoulders, you didn't know quite how to react to the gesture- to the way he looks at you with such fondness. It's always so easy with Kurt, his feelings seem clear as day whenever your eyes meet his.

His jacket is so warm and his scent lingers on the plush fabric, you tug it close to yourself to break off the wind that chills you to the bone.

"Thank you..."

"No need to thank me. Isn't it tradition to kiss someone at midnight?"

The question caught you off guard until you realized that everyone was counting down now, able to vaguely hear their voices in the house from outside.

His eyes never leave you as you simply give a small nod, his hand resting against your cheek while his tail sways blissfully.

"May I?"

You don't need any convincing- there's no one you'd rather kiss than the gentle blue mutant, one with a heart of absolute gold. It was no secret you two had been pining after one another, yet neither of you ever truly made a move.

"Yes."

His lips meet yours just as the words 'One!!!! Happy New Year!!!!' ring out in the background, warm and tender just as you expected it to be, his tail loosely draping itself around your waist which earns a giggle from you.

The kiss is broken and his tail continues to brush up against you lightly, the brightest smile possible on his face- sharp teeth in clear view.

"That was the perfect way to start a new year... I like this tradition."

"I think I like it too."

-

{I need to write more for Kurt he's so <3}

-

{More Content}

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Can you write platonic gladers x child reader (8 - 10), like when their in the scorch trials

AHHH I've been thinking about writing a platonic fic for so long but I wasn’t sure if anyone would read!!!! This request is so good thank you so much

The Heart

Gladers x child! gender neutral! reader (platonic)

Set during scorch trials (movieverse)

Notes: I decided to format this as headcanons to make it easier. Where Teresa is 'The Traitor', Newt is 'The Glue', etc, reader is tattooed with 'The Heart'. This isn't really in the story, just a note for the title and a general headcanon

Warnings: everything that happened in the movie, i.e. violence, Cranks, Winston shooting himself, and one instance of bad language cause apparently I don't have other vocab

Aris

You meet Aris when you've all escaped from WCKD

He's a nice guy

When you're gathering supplies in that abandoned building he picks out a bunch of little sweaters for you

Idk I get a sweater vibe from him

You wear the sweaters when it's night time in the Scorch, and freezing cold

In the days when it's too hot to wear them Aris carries them in his backpack for you

But that's really the extent of your interactions

You've just had more time to build up trust with the people of your own Glade, so it's easier with them, but you're still chill with Aris

Winston

You didn't really know Winston back in the Glade

But it still hurts when the Cranks get him

He shields you away, not letting you see his wound when he shows the others

The Gladers help him do the same, hiding you from him when he starts looking worse

It's like there's some silent pact between everyone to protect you from seeing as many bad things

Your age seems to make them want to preserve your innocence, or something

Anyway, he always looks after you, until the end

RIP Winston :(

Frypan

He always had a soft spot for you back in the Glade

(everyone did)

That kindness doesn't stop when you're out in the Scorch

He always makes sure you've eaten, and he even offers you some of his food, even though he probably needs more than you

Frypan does his best to keep the mood light for you, cracking little jokes and pulling faces to make you smile

Teresa

For Teresa, you're actually a reminder of what the world was like

Look, we all know Teresa betrayed the group, and that was really shitty

But we can get her motivations sometimes

She looks at you and sees the people she should be saving, the people she wants to protect

You're actually a symbol of hope in her mind

She wants to make a cure so that people like you can live in a world without the Flare

Of course, you would rather she just not betray all your friends, but that's just how her mind works

For you, she's kinda like an older sister... or a mother (lol)

You always sleep beside her at night, and she'll hold your hand while sleeping so you don't have nightmares

Thomas

Thomas is actually kind of a role model to you

You admire his relentless no-one-left-behind mindset, and his bravery

He doesn't really have time to look after you like the others, but you always fuel his spirit with your unfailing optimism

He makes the most time with you at the end of the day, when you're resting

He comforts you when you're scared at night, staying awake to talk to you about simple things, or to tell you a story to take your mind off your fears

You cuddle up to sleep between him and Teresa, giving both of them some calm and peace, since you can tell his mind is always moving a million miles a minute

He's kinda like Teresa with you, actually

They both look at you as a hopeful future, something they have to work towards to protect you

But the difference is that Thomas works to get you and the rest of the group to a safe place, while Teresa... you know, gives you all up

Newt

You trigger some strange memories in Newt

He doesn't really remember, but he had a sister before

You remind him of what it's like to be an older brother

He protects you like his own sibling, making sure you get your sweaters from Aris' bag when it gets cold

He also defends you first when you end up at Jorge's warehouse

When the guard people are closing in on you, he shoves you behind him and threatens to kill anyone who touches you

Obviously they have guns and are stronger than the lot of you, so all you end up getting strung up by your feet

But hey, he tried his best, and it was all fine in the end

Minho

Minho is your favourite

(you're his favourite too)

He's snarky and to-the-point with everyone else, but he's always soft with you

Back in the Glade he'd always let you sit in the Runners' hut and chill out, just drawing pictures or messing around with sticks from the Map

Some days when it gets late, you get tired from walking and Minho will give you a piggyback ride

Usually you'll fall asleep on Minho's back like that, and he'll have to gently put you down, trying not to wake you

Minho's actually always carrying you

Like, in the hard situations - it becomes a regular thing

Some bad shit going down? Get on my back

He's carrying you when you're running in to the warehouse, and you almost get struck by lightning with him

Back when you were escaping the Maze, he was carrying you there too

Hope you enjoyed these :)))

Thank you for reading, and requests are open as always ❤

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Thirty Six

Aylah’s POV:

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the table lamp casting shadows across the walls. I lay with my head on Kayla’s lap, her fingers lazily running through my hair as we sat curled up on her couch. The rhythmic motion was soothing, grounding—exactly what I needed after the past few days.

Kayla let out a slow breath, breaking the comfortable silence. “So he’s really here?”

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah… It’s crazy.”

Kayla let out a low whistle, shaking her head. “Yeah, it really is. Who knew he could take off time like that? Like, fuck, isn’t he supposed to be busy as the world’s top racer?”

I hummed in agreement. “He is. Even I’m confused as to how Jade let him go.”

At that, Kayla’s fingers paused in my hair for just a second before she scoffed. “Babe, there is no way that bitch let him go. He’s definitely here on his own accord.”

I frowned, the thought unsettling. “There’s no way, though. He never does anything without her okay.”

Kayla let out a dry chuckle. “I know. But think about it—would she have really let him go and chase after you when he could be making her more money right now?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I paused, considering her words. “That’s true… but it could just be another plot. Another way to trap me into working for her again. Designing him another car. The first one already got him to win a race, so she probably wants another one that’s going to produce the same results.”

Kayla hummed in response, her fingers resuming their slow movement through my hair. “That could be the case… but it’s been a week, AJ. Surely, if she sent him to do this, he’d be on some tight schedule, right? He would’ve tried to force you against your will by now just to make Jade happy. But instead…” she shrugged, “he’s been chilling, getting coffee every day, like he has no responsibilities in the world. It’s kinda like… he only sees you.”

I turned my head slightly, looking up at her. Her expression was thoughtful, but there was something else beneath it—concern.

I swallowed hard, my voice quieter now. “Whatever his reasons are, he needs to stop. I’ve moved on. I don’t see myself going back to that place ever again.” I exhaled, the familiar ache creeping into my chest. “Mum already told me how it ended with Dad… and I don’t want her to lose me because of this crap as well. It’s best we stay away from each other.”

Kayla gave me a long look before nodding. “Just make sure you do what you want, babe. Don’t let anyone cloud your judgment. Whatever you decide should solely be based on what he does and your own opinion on it. Okay?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

She smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now sit up. My legs are starting to give out because of your fat head.”

I gasped, sitting up quickly before swatting her shoulder. “Hey!”

Kayla burst out laughing, and despite everything—despite the mess in my head, the confusion, the lingering ghosts of my past—I found myself laughing with her.

The next morning, I woke up feeling strangely lighter, as if the conversation with Kayla had lifted a weight off my chest..By the time I arrived at the café for my shift, I quickly scanned the place out of habit. But he wasn’t there. The spot he’d occupied last Friday was empty.

And I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

The morning rush had already passed, and the café had settled into a comfortable lull when Leah, Cyrus, and Serena gathered around me near the counter, each of them looking somewhat deflated.

“The café’s really quiet without him,” Leah sighed, wiping down a tray absentmindedly.

“Yeah, it’s like a ghost town,” Cyrus added, dramatically resting his chin on the counter.

Serena groaned. “Aw, man, that means we have to say goodbye to our pay raise.”

I rolled my eyes before lightly smacking each of them on the head. “This is a good thing, you guys. Now get back to work so we can go on our break.”

At the mention of break, their faces immediately lit up, and they scattered like children who had just been promised candy. I shook my head with a small laugh, tying my apron a little tighter before getting back to work myself. But just as I was handing a customer their change, a familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

I turned to see Adam, standing beside me with an amused expression.

I blinked. “My what?”

Adam chuckled, crossing his arms. “Jungkook. The guy who’s been practically glued to this place. I thought you two had a thing going on.”

I nearly dropped the cash register. “We do not have a thing going on,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “And even if we did, he’s not my boyfriend.”

Adam raised a skeptical brow. “Uh-huh. Then why’d he look at you like you put the stars in the damn sky every time he was here?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out. I hadn’t told Adam about my weird relationship with Jungkook and I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to.

“He’s just weird like that, anyways why do you care?”

"Maybe I don’t like the idea of that prick flirting with the girl I like," Adam says, his voice a little rough around the edges, a slight edge of jealousy cutting through his tone.

I freeze, the words hanging in the air between us. "What?" I ask, my heart skipping a beat.

Adam’s lips curled into a slow, almost teasing smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. It was like he was daring me to understand something I’m not seeing. Without a word, he stepped closer, his fingers grazing lightly against the side of my face. The sensation sent an unexpected shiver through me. Then his hand moved to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, the soft touch making my pulse quicken.

I couldn’t think straight as his hand lingered by my cheek, his fingers brushing against my skin just a moment longer than necessary. The closeness, the subtle hint of something unspoken, made it hard to breathe.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked, his voice now low, almost as if he’s unsure whether he should ask, but does anyway. The question seemed innocent enough, but the way he said it made it feel anything but.

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. My stomach flipped. "Yeah…why?" The word escaped my lips without me even thinking about it.

Adam didn’t answer right away, but his smile softened—more sincere now, as if he’d been waiting for this moment, or perhaps it was something else entirely. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made everything around us fade.

"Would you be up for having dinner with me?" he asked, his voice hushed, almost as if he was testing the waters. The vulnerability in his question surprised me.

For a long moment, I was speechless. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past few minutes. My heart skipped, then stuttered, unsure of how to react. I’d never seen this side of him before. Not this open, this…honest.

"Y-Yeah," I stammered, blinking rapidly. "What time?"

He smirked, as though pleased with my response, and that small smile made my insides tangle up in knots. "Around seven," he replied, his voice now smoother, more confident.

The words sank in. Dinner. With him. It seemed like such a simple gesture, really, but for some reason, it felt like more. My pulse quickened, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. A part of me was afraid to look too deeply into what was happening.

"Okay," I managed, a small smile tugging at my lips as I grew more comfortable with the idea. "It’s a date."

His smile mirrored mine, that same warmth spreading across his face. The tension between us melted for just a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, everything felt right. Adam turned to walk away, his confident strides taking him further from me, but unbeknownst to me was that the moment his back was turned the smile faded from his face.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. My mind was spinning with questions I wasn’t sure I could answer. There was something about this encounter, about Adam, that felt different from anything I’d ever experienced.

Maybe tonight would help me understand what I felt. And maybe, for once, I’d figure out what all of this really meant.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So, how was the date with Adam?" Leah asked, leaning on the counter with a playful glint in her eyes.

I tried to focus on arranging the cups, but the question made my heart flutter in an unexpected way. "It was really nice," I said, taking a deep breath. "He took me to this fancy restaurant, La Lumière. It was beautiful, and he was really sweet."

Before I could add anything else, Cyrus and Serena spoke at the same time. "Ooooh, really?"

I exhaled, leaning back against the counter, letting the weight of everything settle over me. "Yeah... but I’m still not sure how I feel."

The three of them fell quiet, waiting for me to continue, their expressions full of curiosity.

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip for a moment before continuing, "He's really sweet, don't get me wrong. But I feel like I need time to figure out myself. Like... I just need to sort out my life before jumping into a relationship."

Cyrus, leaned casually against the counter with that infuriating smirk of his, raising an eyebrow. "Or maybe someone has a certain F1 racer in mind," he teased, the glint in his eyes making it clear he was waiting for me to react.

Before I could even process his words, Leah and Serena both gasped in unison. "Oooohhh."

My face flushed, and I pushed a hand through my hair, feeling embarrassed. "Oh my god, you guys, I told you I don’t like him!"

Cyrus grinned wider, obviously enjoying the moment. "But, girl... imagine your babies. They'd look so cute."

I nearly choked on my breath at his suggestion, my face turning a shade of red I didn’t think was possible. "N-No, they wouldn't! I'm not getting with him."

Serena and Leah exchanged knowing glances, and I could tell they were trying to hold back their laughter.

Cyrus, still grinning like the mischievous devil he was, shrugged nonchalantly. "Then... can I have him, being fucked by a stallion like him would be a blessing."

I stared at him, my face still burning as I shook my head, trying to ignore the laughter building in the air. "You are ridiculous," I muttered, but even I couldn’t hold back a small smile.

"So, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day?" Leah asked, leaning forward with a sly grin.

I paused, wiping the counter for a second too long, before answering. "Well... nothing special, I guess. Me and Kayla used to spend Valentine’s together since we were both single."

Leah groaned dramatically, flopping onto one of the café chairs. "Boringggg," she whined, rolling her eyes. "Girl, let’s go to the club, get drunk, and forget that this entire stupid day exists."

Serena chimed in, nodding vigorously. "Yeah, exactly. We need to forget about our miserable lives on this stupid-ass holiday." She tossed her hands up in mock frustration, making it clear how little she cared for the whole thing.

Cyrus, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, grinned. "It’s like this holiday was created specifically to spite us for our singleness," he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I laughed, shaking my head at their dramatic reactions. "You guys really have a way of making everything sound worse than it is."

Leah grinned, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Well, you know it’s true. Valentine’s Day is just an excuse for people in relationships to rub it in our faces."

"Exactly!" Serena agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's like, why bother with the ‘celebration of love’ when all it does is remind us that we’re alone?"

I rolled my eyes, though a small part of me understood their frustration. "Okay, fine. So, you want to get drunk and forget it all? I guess I can’t argue with that."

Cyrus looked at me, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, you're in. I knew it," he said, nudging me playfully. "You can’t resist a good night out with us."

I groaned, knowing they wouldn’t let it go. "Fine. But only because I really do need to forget how... weird everything has been lately."

Leah jumped up, clapping her hands together. "Yes! That’s the spirit!"

Serena grinned. "Let’s make it a night to remember—or forget, depending on how much we drink."

Jade’s POV:

Jade sat at her sleek, polished desk, her fingers drumming rhythmically against the surface as her heel tapped impatiently against the floor. She kept glancing up at the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by, each one making her more frustrated.

He should have been back by now.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, her fingers tracing the edge of her desk as the frustration continued to build. She ran a hand through her dark, straight hair, feeling her irritation mounting with each passing minute. If there was one thing Jade couldn’t stand, it was incompetence, and right now, it felt like Jungkook was testing her patience.

In a sudden move, she opened the drawer of her desk, grabbing the remote control and flipping the TV on. The news channel flashed to life, and she settled back, hoping to distract herself from the gnawing tension in her chest. But as the reporter’s voice filled the room, Jade’s frustration only deepened.

"Breaking news," the reporter said, her voice smooth and calm, "Jeon Jungkook, the world-leading F1 racer, has missed yet another race this season, raising serious concerns about his commitment to the sport."

Jade’s lips tightened into a thin line as she watched the screen, her jaw clenching. Not this again.

The reporter continued, talking about how Jungkook had missed three major races already and speculating about the potential reasons behind it. She knew the media was all over it, always looking for an angle to tear him down. But it didn’t help that his absence—his increasing string of missed races—was starting to raise more than just eyebrows in the racing world.

Jade gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into fists. I told him to get it together.

Her eyes flickered to the clock again, and then back to the screen, watching the reporter’s words spill out. The headline scrolled across the bottom of the screen: “Jeon Jungkook Misses Third Race of the Season, Uncertainty Clouds Future.”

Jade’s stomach churned. She could practically feel the weight of the media's gaze on her, as if they were all waiting for her to respond. She pressed her fingers to her temples, the pressure in her head growing as her annoyance reached a boiling point. She had worked too hard to build Jungkook’s reputation, to make him the top-tier name he was in Formula 1. And now this? Another slip-up? Another missed race, another day of silence from him?

Jade’s thoughts turned darker. How could he be this irresponsible?

He knew how much was at stake. She had bent over backward to protect his image, to keep his sponsors happy, to make sure that the media never found a crack in his perfect facade. And yet, here he was, going off the rails like some… amateur.

Her hand trembled slightly as she picked up her phone, dialing his number with forceful precision. She stared at the screen, waiting for the call to connect. The minutes stretched on, but there was no answer.

Her grip tightened on the phone. Why haven’t you given up yet Jungkook?

She knew it wasn’t like him to just disappear. He was the type of man who thrived under pressure, the type who would turn up at the last minute, do a press conference, and walk away with a smile. But this? This was different. This was affecting her career—no, their careers.

After the call went to voicemail, Jade threw her phone down on the desk, her chair scraping back as she stood up in one fluid motion. Her fingers balled into fists as she stormed to the window, her eyes narrowing as she stared out at the busy streets below. Her mind raced, calculating the damage.

She would bring him back. She had to. Because if Jungkook thought he could just miss race after race and not face the consequences, he was sorely mistaken.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of her phone ringing cut through the silence of the room. Her pulse quickened, and for a brief moment, she thought it might be Jungkook calling back, finally acknowledging her frustration.

But as her eyes flickered to the screen, her heart sank. It wasn’t Jungkook’s name flashing on her phone. It was her father’s.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her fingers hesitated over the screen. The anger she’d been drowning in moments before faded, replaced by a creeping dread. What does he want now?

She let out a shaky exhale, her hand hovering before finally answering with a nervous, “H-Hello?”

Before she could get another word out, her father’s voice erupted on the other end, loud and angry.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY TOP RACER?!" he bellowed, the intensity of his words making her flinch, even though she was used to the force of his anger.

Jade’s expression immediately dropped, her entire demeanor changing. The fire inside her quickly turned to ice. She could feel her hands shaking as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her father had always been a force to be reckoned with, and when he was like this, everything felt heavy—impossibly heavy.

"I-I have it under control," Jade stammered, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She straightened her back, despite the sinking feeling in her gut. She couldn’t let him know she was rattled.

Her father wasn’t hearing it. "You call this under control?!" His voice was even louder this time, and she could practically feel the rage pulsing through the phone. "You’re telling me that after three races he’s missed, you’ve got everything under control?"

Jade’s jaw clenched. She had known this conversation was coming. Her father didn’t tolerate mistakes, especially when it came to his investments, and Jungkook’s behavior was beginning to hurt more than just their reputation. It was affecting everything.

"Yes, I’m telling you," Jade said, her voice firmer now, though there was still an edge of uncertainty. "I’ve been in touch with him. He’s going through some personal things, and—"

"I don’t give a fuck about his ‘personal things,’ Jade!" Her father interrupted, his words sharp like a knife. "This is a business, not some charity case! I don’t care if he’s having a crisis. He better be at that next race, or you and I are going to have a serious problem. Understand?"

"I understand, Father," she said quietly, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling inside her. "I’ll handle it."

"You better," he growled. "Because if you don’t, you’ll be the one dealing with the fallout. And trust me, I’ll make sure it’s worse than you can imagine."

Her father’s words hung in the air, thick with the weight of his threat. Her chest tightened as she sat back down at her desk, staring at the blank screen of her computer. The phone clicked off, and Jade was left with the silence in the room. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, her thoughts racing once more. How the hell did she let it get to this point?