#i can always count on you to get me the important info

[jobean12-blog]

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 4,157

Summary: You've had a crush on Bucky from the moment you met and now that Sam has the two of you going on a mission together you're not sure how to handle it. Sure you've had casual conversastions before and hung out as a group but all this one on one time... what could possibly go wrong? Or maybe right?

Author's Note: I love a sweet and slightly shy, soft Bucky! The details of the mission are not really important here so I just have them flying from some lovely hidden away location to NYC for some sneakin' around to get info. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: shy and sweet Bucky, awkwardness from both characters haha, but lots of fun, flirting, tension, fluff, implied smut

You’re alone in the elevator, having just left your meeting with Sam, when Bucky steps inside just as the doors are closing.

Your eyes meet and your breath catches in your throat, the weighted silence becoming awkward.

You open your mouth to say something but then stop, blinking away the words before leaning heavily against the wall.

The damn elevator is moving so slowly.

Finally, the doors open and Bucky gestures for you to go first. Instead, you nearly shout at him, “looks like we’re going on a mission together.”

“Yeah,” he says with a small smile.

“I’m excited, I’ve never been to the city before.”

He rubs the back of his neck and shuffles his feet. “It’s definitely somethin’.”

“Should I meet you at the Quinjet tomorrow morning? Or do we need to talk about anything before then?”

“I think that’s fine,” he answers, still holding the doors of the elevator open.

It starts to ding, and you register the sound with a nervous giggle and step out.

“It’s fine if we just meet at the Quinjet or before?” You ask for clarification.

“Um,” he starts. “It should be…”

“I don’t mind…” you begin at the same time.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “I interrupted. Go ahead.”

“We can just meet at the Quinjet,” he says as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets and starts to walk down the hallway.

“That sounds good,” you tell him. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, see you in the mornin’.”

He smiles, his gaze lingering before he turns around the next corner.

“Great,” you mutter to yourself. “Now he really thinks you’re a bumbling idiot.”

Your feet shuffle along the ramp onto the Quinjet and you squint against the early morning sun that’s just starting to rise above the top of the mountains in the distance.

Fumbling with your bag you head toward the seats, finding Bucky already inside and waiting. He stands and reaches for your bag.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” you answer back, staring.

He secures your bag and sits back down. You glance around at all the empty seats and then sit right down next to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. “I’m a nervous flyer.”

With a smile he says, “no doll. That’s fine.”

You watch him wipe the palms of his hands on his pants.

The door to the Quinjet closes and you shift in your seat, toying with the seatbelt and growing more frustrated with every passing second.

The engines ignite and you make a squeaking sound, finally deciding to just try and tie the seatbelt rope in a knot.

Bucky places his hand over yours. “Let me help?”

You nod and try to slow your breathing as his hands work smoothly to undo your mess and clip the belt then tighten it.

“There. Comfortable?”

“Yeah, perfect. Thanks.”

You feel the jet start to move, and you clasp your hands together in your lap. You can feel his eyes on you but for fear of further embarrassment you keep your face forward and try not to sweat too much.

“What did you bring for lunch?” he asks.

“What?”

“Lunch. What did you bring for the ride?��

“Were we supposed to bring lunch?” you ask wide eyed.

He laughs. “It’s not a long ride but I’m always hungry so I brought peanut butter and jelly and a bagel. Plenty to share.”

“That’s good,” you say with a smile. “And thanks. It’s a good thing one of us is prepared.”

“When it comes to food yeah, otherwise, I’m leaving that up to you.”

You smile. “Don’t worry. As far as the mission goes I know exactly what we need to do.”

“Good. And I’ll show you all the best places to eat.”

With a laugh you let out an exhale and realize you’re already up in the air and cruising. You give him a thankful look and smile.

He winks and then settles back in his seat.

Eventually, after some light conversation, you drift off to sleep, slowly slanting toward Bucky until your head is resting on his shoulder.

His movements are soft and easy as he drops lower, so your neck isn’t so stretched out and he leans back to close his eyes.

You wake to the jerking of the jet and the feeling of weightlessness in your stomach as you start to make your descent. You’re awkwardly twisted in your seat but somehow so comfortable. The body next to you is warm and firm and smells so good.

With a jolt you straighten and disentangle yourself from around Bucky’s metal arm. You then notice your leg is hitched over his thigh.

Trying not to wake him you remove the rest of your limbs from his body and rub a hand over your face. He’s still quietly breathing, eyes closed and long lashes fluttering when you start to study every feature of his face up close.

His hair is mussed at the back, and the front, normally pulled upward, now falls over his forehead, shiny and soft. His sharp jaw is covered in a dark shadow, highlighted every now and then by patches of gray that travel down his strong neck.

And there, on his shoulder, is a wet patch of drool covering his leather jacket.

You anxiously wipe at your face and search for something to wipe it off with. Your panicky movements jostle him enough that his eyes flash open only to find your face inches from his.

You smile with a whispered, “hi.”   

He blinks a few times before his blue eyes widen, his gaze moving from yours to the spot on his shoulder where you had been wiping.

“I’m sorry about that,” you mumble. “Apparently you’re very comfortable.”

He grins. “Good to know.”

“I guess I dozed off too. Sorry about that doll. I was trying to stay awake and keep you company in case the trip got bumpy.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t be sorry. You looked adora…”

You stop yourself, snapping your mouth shut and then looking down at your seatbelt.

“Think you can help me out of this I need to stretch.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea…” he starts as the jet hits another patch of turbulence.

You ignore his warning and start to work on your seatbelt, opening it with minimal effort and trying to stand. The moment you do your body is thrown off balance and you nearly fall into his lap.

He wraps a strong arm around your waist and holds you close to his chest.

“I got you,” he says with a mischievous smile.

“I shouldn’t have gotten up,” you sigh. “I’m…”

“Nah, don’t worry. I get it. I never liked flying much myself. I’ve just done it so much now I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

The sincerity in his words and tone make you melt against him and instead of moving back to your seat you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re a comfier seatbelt anyway,” you say quietly.

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep your own on the wall across, afraid of what he’ll see written all over your face.

Once you’re out of the jet and into the fresh air you breathe deeply, taking in all the sights and sounds of the city. Bucky leads you to a small hotel on the upper west side of Manhattan, opening and holding the door for you.

The clerk greets you warmly and asks for your names.

“Separate rooms?” he asks with a questioning look.

You clear your throat and rush out with, “we’re here for business.”

The clerk nods and hands you your keys. You follow Bucky to the elevator, wincing inwardly when you remember your last encounter in one of these machines.

But this time the silence is more comfortable and when you exit Bucky points down the hallway.

“I’m right down here.”

“Looks like I’m next door,” you say. “I’m gonna freshen up.”

“Ok,” he says and watches until you unlock your door and get safely inside.

You fall against it and drop your head along the hard wood, groaning. You’d been on this mission for less than half a day and you’d already drooled on him, practically groped him, and threw yourself in his lap.

“Fucking hell,” you grumble and shuffle toward the bed, falling headfirst onto the pillows.

When you awake with a stretch you realize it’s only been an hour, but your stomach grumbles and you contemplate your food choices.

Before falling asleep you had managed to discard your clothes and don the soft hotel robe hanging in the closet. Now, as you tighten the knot at your waist you peer out into the hallway and hope there are vending machines near the ice machine.

It’s eerily quiet. Not even the sound of a television coming from a nearby room.

You head down the hallway.

“Doll?”

You let out a squeal of surprise in the quiet, the shrill sound echoing off the walls.

You turn and say, far too brightly and loudly, “HI!”

“What are you up to? I was just grabbing something to eat. Didn’t bring any snacks, remember?”

“Snacks?” he repeats, looking around the hallway before his eyes linger on your robe.

“From the vending machine,” you chirp as you lean casually against the wall. “Hungry?”

“What were you gonna get? Doritos?”

A pop of color stains his cheeks and a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe an energy bar?” you muse.

“What about half a peanut butter and jelly?” he offers.

“What no bagel left?”

He dips his head and rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

“Might have eaten that when you feel asleep on the jet.”

Your head falls back with a trill of laughter, and it makes his stomach flip.

“I’d love some pb and j. Thanks.”

“Come on,” he says and steps backward toward his room.

After you stuff the half a sandwich in your mouth, Bucky eyes you suspiciously.

“That definitely wasn’t enough to eat. We have to get you more food. And me too.”

He rubs his belly and stretches, the motion lifting the hem of his henley and exposing the waistband of his boxers and the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath.

“Food…right?” you whisper.

“Are you still hungry?” he asks, oblivious to your ogling.

“Starved,” you say with a harsh swallow.

After excusing yourself back to your room you to change you emerge ready to eat. The air is cooler now and you close your eyes, grateful for the refreshing feeling on your skin.

You take in as much of the city as you can while Bucky leads you with confidence down the street. You reach the corner and wait for the signal to walk. When the light changes, the crowd moves and you feel the press of his palm on the small of your back, urging you forward.

The sensation sends a shiver down your spine and when you reach the other side of the street he stops and gives you a concerned look.

“Are you cold?” he asks and starts to shrug off his jacket.

You’re anything but, however, there is no way you would ever turn down his jacket.

“A little. Guess I wasn’t expecting it to cool off so much.”

“Here,” he says and drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Better?”

“Much,” you say, snuggling into his warmth and smell. “But won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I’m like a walking heater,” he promises with a smile.

You continue down the sidewalk, now truly oblivious to all else other than the occasional brush of his shoulder and the feel of his jacket wrapped around you.

His voices pulls you from your trance and you finally register what he’s saying as you look up and see the iconic edifice of the American Museum of Natural History.

“Oh my god,” you say and stop dead in your tracks.

“Pretty cool right.”

You rush toward it, grabbing for your phone.

“Will you take a picture of me?”

You’re still trying to find your phone when you ask him and he laughs, pulling out his own.

“I’ve got mine. I’ll take it and send it to you.”

A sea of tourists rush by before he’s able to open the app and snap a picture but after he does the expression on his face is a little…charmed.

“Got it,” he says, turning the phone to show you. “Came great.”

You squeal in happiness. “Ok, now you come here.”

He stands next to you, and you take his phone. “Let’s get one together.”

“But…” he starts. “Your arms aren’t long enough!”

“Nah, I’ve got this! Just bend down a little and I’ll just…”

You start to maneuver closer to him, your heads almost touching.

“I’m being such a tourist right now,” he grumbles playfully.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone, “You giggle.

He takes the phone from your hand with a smile and holds your gaze for a fraction of a second, clearing his throat.

“Holding you to that doll.”

It takes a few tries to get the angle right but when you do he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight, snapping the pic.

He looks at the photo then turns the screen so you can see it. It’s a great picture. You’re both smiling and cozy.

“What’s your number?” he asks.

You recite it and watch as he types. In your pocket your phone buzzes and you chime, “ah there it is!”

You try not to smile too widely at the photo or the fact that Bucky seems to be smiling just as much as he looks at it one more time.

The smell of something good starts to fill your senses as you continue walking down 81st street and when you reach another corner, Bucky stops at the hot dog stand there.

“Always go to the one with the longest line,” he says.

You try to wait patiently but he notices your hopping feet and wiggly fingers.

“Don’t worry doll, it’ll be worth it. I promise.”

Once you have your hot dog in hand you pull him away from the cart and onto a bench under the shade of trees.

You moan around the first bite. “Bucky…oh my god.”

Thankfully, you’re so engrossed in the joy of your street dog that you don’t notice the way he’s staring at your lips, his own parted with his sharp inhale. Your tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth and he nearly chokes.

“You ok,” you ask, forgetting about the food.

He nods and holds up his hand, motioning for the bottle of water you bought. You open it and hand it over, watching him take a long drink and focus on the way the muscles in his neck shift with each swallow.

“Yeah, all good,” he sighs, next stealing the napkin from between your fingers.

“So, you like it huh?”

“Yeah,” you say with grin. “Think I need another.”

On the way back to the hotel you discuss the mission and go over your plan for the next few days. You’re mostly there to collect information and be covert so other than being in the right places and the right times you’ll be free to explore.

You point out every landmark, asking questions and hanging on his every word. When you reach the door of the hotel he holds it open for you once more and you realize he’s been quiet the last few blocks as you’ve rambled on.

“Shit,” you mutter. “You must think I’m so weird.”

He smiles and follows you in.

“Weird, yes but weird is good. I like your energy, and I think you’re pretty amazing.”

Before you can respond, the elevator dings and a crowd of people file out. He walks you to your door and you shrug his jacket from your shoulders, hanging over his and waiting until his arms are through before you smooth the leather down his chest and fix the collar.

He sucks in a breath, and you wait, worrying you’ve crossed a line.

“Thanks for getting me dinner,” you whisper.

“Anytime doll face.” A small smile tilts his lips upward as his eyes search yours.

Your hands still linger at his collar, and he takes your wrists, securing your hands around his neck.

This time you gasp and the faint scent of him hangs in the air, leather, and warm spice. You lean in slowly, and he does too, making the space between you disappear. His nose brushes the edge of yours and you can feel his breath across your lips.

“Are you going to kiss me Bucky?”

His chest is pressed against yours and you feel his heavy breathing. He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs.

“I wouldn’t want you to…I’ve thought about this. A lot.”

Your confession makes his brows hit his hairline.

You continue. “I always thought this would just be a crush. But now, spending time with you, I feel like I’m going a bit crazy…in a good way.”

When you look up and meet his wide eyes you groan. “And I’ve said too much and totally freaked you out.”

Your head drops but his fingers catch your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his soft expression.

“No doll, you haven’t. I’m just not used to any of it.”

“I can’t believe that” you smile. “You must have girls falling all over you.”

He shakes his head with a huff of a laugh. “Not really and uh…well, it’s been a while…since I’ve done this.”

He steps back and gives you a sheepish look. “So, if you’re really interested, you’ll have to be patient with me. I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”  

His admission is endearing, and you give him a reassuring smile before leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“You’re worth the wait Bucky.”

You turn and with one last smile, close your door softly and once again collapse on the bed.

The next day you meet Bucky in the hallway, ready to tackle the day and get things done. The brightly shining sun brings plenty of warmth and you notice Bucky rolling up his sleeves as you walk toward your destination.

While you’re admiring his forearms, both metal and flesh, you nearly run into the crowd in front of you. He grabs your arm and pulls you back just in time, against his chest, and you exhale before sharply inhaling the same breath at the feel of him so close.

“You ok?” he asks softly against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Sorry. Was just lost in thought.”

He nods in understanding and steers you safely through the crowd. He stays close, his arm hanging at his side and his knuckles occasionally brushing yours. You assume it’s accidental and try not to react as goosebumps spread along your skin. But by the third and fourth time, you begin to wonder.

His pinky extends and caresses yours, and every nerve in your body seems to ignite, beginning at where you skin touches and stopping at your toes. You sway on your feet and your stomach erupts in butterflies.

The more time you spend near each other, the more he seems to unwind, and his wordless flirtation slowly builds throughout the day.

You want to scream at him that he knows exactly what he’s doing but instead you go with it and make sure he knows you’re receptive.

When you’re on the subway back to the hotel, the train rocks back and forth as you move through a darkened tunnel. Your body sways into him and he grabs your hip, holding your back to his chest.

You can feel the flex of his fingers against your skin and the warmth of them through your shirt. By the time the train reaches the station you’re breathing rapidly and walking unsteadily as he guides your toward the train doors and steps behind you.

His large hand remains at your waist, and he presses into you, allowing you to feel him, every inch.

Back at the hotel, your skin is burning and your body aches and you’re sure you can see the same desperation reflected in his eyes.

But instead of making a move he simply takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, watching you over your knuckles and kissing each of them.

He looks like he wants to say something and even inches forward before letting out a nervous exhale and waiting for you to go inside.

It’s torture to feel this way, knowing you’re not dreaming that he wants you but also knowing he’s scared. And besides that, the entire day of quiet foreplay left you needy.

You opt for a relaxing bath which doesn’t relax you at all and when you spread your warm body out on the bed the urge to slip your hand between your legs is too great. Your mind immediately fills with thoughts of how his calloused fingers would feel on your skin, so sensitive and wet.

You know he’s only on the other side of the wall and you think you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice faint but it’s enough for you to pretend.

The swift movement of your fingers along with your wild imagination is enough to send you over the edge with a cry of his name.

It’s only when your breathing evens out that you notice how quiet it seems, and you realize that you might have been too loud.

A knock at your door makes you yelp in surprise, and you hear Bucky’s voice on the other side.

“It’s just me doll.”

On shaky legs you walk to the door and open it only enough to peek out at him. You don’t say anything, and he asks, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?” you answer, still quite breathless.

“It’s just…I heard…I thought? Did you call my name?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open.

He taps his ear with a sideways smile. “Super soldier hearing.”

“Well. No. I mean, yes? Maybe. I think I was dreaming?”

He waits for you to finish and then gently pushes on the door.

“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks.

You hold his stare, your heart hammering against your rib cage.

“Are you going to kiss me this time?”

Something in his eyes answers your question and you let go of the door, allowing him to slip inside and shut it.

You lean against it, his hand still pressed to the wood above your head as the other joins it, effectively caging you in.

He tilts his head, wearing a smile that gently pulls at his lips.

“What were you really doing in here?” he asks.

Your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and every coherent thought leaves your head. You stare and let your tongue trace the outline of your mouth.

“Answer me,” he demands quietly.

“I was thinking of you.”

He bends to kiss your neck softly, his lips tracing the column of your throat before meeting just below your ear to whisper, “that’s it?”

“And touching myself.”

He inhales sharply through his nose, exhaling your name and dropping his hands to take your face between them. He drags his nose along your jaw and then his lips hover just above yours.

He stills and as much as you know he wants this you know his insecurities are hard to overcome.

You slide your hands up his chest, feeling the strong muscles flex beneath your fingers, and curl your hands around the back of his neck.

“I came with your name on my lips,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on his.

It’s all he needs, and he lets a low growl rumble through his chest before he closes the distance and kisses you. Your lips slide over his and you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, making him groan.

Your fingers dig into his hair as his hands slide along the curve of your waist to your back, clutching and bringing you impossibly close.

The kiss grows deeper, and you let out tiny little gasps as he tastes you, barely registering what you’re saying before, “please, Bucky, escapes.

“Please what?” he says, his lips sliding to your ear, softly kissing the skin beneath. “Anything.”

“Just…kiss me.”

He smiles against your lips. “Pretty sure that’s exactly what I was doing doll face.”

“Touch me,” you beg, taking his metal hand and sliding it down between your breasts.

“You can’t be real,” he breathes out.

You kiss his neck, lifting your lips to his earlobe and nibbling it before whispering, “I am and I’m all yours.”

[pomefioredove]

Hii!! May I please have a sugar cookie, #10, with sprinkles and whipped cream ?? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

this was painfully enjoyable, how I missed writing this little scamp...

order #10, sugar with whipped cream and sprinkles

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honest

tropes: hurt/comfort, royalty AU characters: ruggie additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is leona's younger sib for plot reasons word count: 1k

"Just throw it anywhere,"

You might as well have heard a ghost. The sound of your older brother's voice, and the sight of him standing in the foyer, is so startling you almost fall.

Leona never comes home for festivals. He hates these things. He hates you.

"Someone'll pick it up. Hey," his eyes are turned on you now. "Where's Falena?"

You must look like a gazelle caught in headlights. "Uh... um, out. He's doing the opening for the ceremony..."

"Tch. Of course,"

Leona rolls his eyes. He returns his dwindling attention back to the group of school uniformed students you almost dare to call his friends.

"Neji will bring your stuff up to your rooms. Don't break anything and don't get too comfortable- we're only here until the hotel can sort out our reservation,"

And he's gone. Not so much as a hello, or a how are you, it's been months?

Unsurprising. Leona and you have never been close. You're a decent amount younger, and he's... well... Leona.

You feel a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"We're just as surprised as you," Neji says. "The cloudcalling festival was one thing, but this, he came of his own volition for. Perhaps he's changed."

"I doubt it," you answer immediately.

"I suppose we won't know unless you talk to him."

Neji smiles and leaves you to attend to your new guests. You roll your eyes- that's Neji for you. The glue that holds your family together... or keeps you from tearing each other apart, at least.

You linger in the foyer, even after the guests have gone and it's only you and the whispers of the guards. They, of course, speak of Leona. Everyone always speaks of Leona. Never of you.

"Come back here!"

"Oop- 'scuse me!"

You come back to your senses just in time to dodge a flash of fur and beige.

Suddenly, there are two hands on your shoulders and two angry guards in front of you.

"Your highness. Step away from the thief," one says, hand on her weapon.

You look over your shoulder to the huddling "thief" hiding behind you, and he pouts. "I'm innocent!"

"He was snooping around the drawing rooms,"

"I didn't take 'anythin!"

You blink, and then dismiss the guards with a wave of your hand. They begrudgingly comply, and he sighs, loudly.

"I owe 'ya. I swear, the guards here would arrest me for breathing!"

He circles around to stand in front of you, and sticks out a hand. "The name's Ruggie. I'm with Leona,"

You cautiously take his hand and shake it, giving him your name and title. "Are you?"

"Oh, yeah. We're practically best buds. Attached at the hip, shishishi," he giggles. "Surprised he's never mentioned me. But, he's never mentioned you, either. I didn't even know Leona had a younger sib."

Of course. "He doesn't like me all that much. So, you know," you shrug.

Ruggie grins and begins wandering the foyer, opening drawers and going through coat pockets.

"Nah, he just doesn't like talking about his home life that much. He's kind of a private guy,"

He gets on his hands and knees and crawls under an 18,000 thaumark footstool.

You raise an eyebrow. "I suppose so. I'm sure he's at least mentioned Falena, though,"

"Oh, sure. But only when people ask. I guess people just don't ask about you,"

That comment hurts more than it should. How ungrateful your brother is. Always so bitter about being second when you're third, when you have so much less importance than him, when you aren't even remembered enough to ask about. You're a shadow in a shadow.

"I guess they don't,"

That had come out more bitter than you had meant it to, and Ruggie pulls out from under the footstool, a coin and a crinkled thaumark note in hand.

"Hey, listen, it's no big deal. Leona just doesn't like talking about things. Like, in general. He's kinda asocial,"

Ruggie pockets the change and stands.

"I've noticed," you mutter. "He's plenty asocial with me, too."

The boy is quiet. He gives you a one-over, and then sighs.

"Listen. Don't go around saying you heard it from me, but Leona... he's got his own problems. He's not avoiding you on purpose, he just... uh, he gets overwhelmed with this family crap- er, pardon my French. He's had it pretty rough at school this year. Wanting to bite your head off- that's 'nothin personal. He nearly killed me, too,"

You blink, somewhat taken aback with how... um, candid he was being. And that last tidbit of not-so-small smalltalk...

"...He what?"

"Total misunderstanding," Ruggie waves off your concern. "All I'm saying is, you shouldn't take everything at face value. Everyone's working an angle, right? Leona wants to seem scary, but he cares about people... in his own way."

Again, you're taken aback by how candid he is. It's like he doesn't even care that you're royalty, or that he's speaking of another royal so... casually.

"Are you working an angle, then?"

He grins. "Heh. I could be. Or I could the only person whose been honest with you in years. I guess it's up to you to decide whether you wanna call those guards back in here, or keep 'talkin,"

As much as that smug look on his face unsettles you... it feels like the weight in your stomach has passed. If only a little.

You smile back, slightly.

"Hey, freeloader. Stop mooching off my kid sibling, and get your ass up here. We're having a group meeting,"

You both look up the grand staircase to see Leona, hands on his hips. Ruggie grins sheepishly.

"What, I'm not allowed to have a civil conversation?"

"Not while looking at 'em like they're your next meal. Come on, I'm tired of being here already,"

Ruggie turns back to you with that same smug grin, his eyes lowered, and then he hurries up the stairs. Leona whacks him upside the head and drags him away by the collar, whisper-shouting something about you.

Again, you smile. Maybe Leona does care about you- in his own strange, older brother way.

Ruggie was honest with you, after all.

[aces-and-angels]

IMPORTANT UPDATE FROM SHAHED:

Note : this post is a repost of @appsa update on Shahed's campaign with updated infos on the current amount of raised funds.

I am so grateful to everyone who shared and donated, i really do count it as a miracle that we were able to reach the goal at all, never mind that it happened within the deadline we set. Your support has felt like a blessing in a truly wretched time, especially after all those baseless accusations were made.

Unfortunately, as is the norm with these fundraisers, it seems that shahed has run into some problems with the bank while withdrawing the funds she raised from this campaign. Apart from the unexpected $3.5k cut gfm took from the total amount, it seems the american bank her campaign manager using to send the money will also take a tax of $2k.

This has left her short of $5,500 from getting the full amount she needs to evacuate her whole family.

And it seems because the amount the campaign initially raised is so large, the campaign manager cannot afford to officially increase the target on the gofundme campaign page itself without putting himself at risk of having his bank account and its funds frozen.

As you may know already, there are lots of roadblocks when it comes to transferring funds from western countries to countries of the global south but especially gaza right now. People having their accounts frozen for sending money to gaza and having to go through legal hassles for it is not anything new.

Shahed doesn't want to put the campaign manager, who is their family friend, at risk of legal troubles like that, especially given the hostile political climate towards palestinians in the USA right now.

So i want to make this clear:

Shahed is currently unable to increase the target on the fundraiser on the gofundme itself, but she still needs to raise another 5.5k to cover the tax cuts taken by both gfm and the banks.

The goal on the fundraiser may say $80,000 is the target but the new one we have to aim for is actually $85,500 now

She is currently at $81,525 / $85,500

Believe me when i say that no one is more disheartened by this development than shahed herself. The morning we had reached the goal of $80,000 she told me that she felt she was the happiest girl in the world, and had bought and distributed sweets to the kids at the camp she was at to celebrate despite how expensive it is in Gaza right now.

She had also begun plans to help boost other fundraisers of palestinians, so that no one would have to feel the hopelessness she felt during those months where her fundraiser had been stagnant and had already gotten started on that barely a day or two after she'd completed her campaign.

Shahed was very nervous to tell me about this, especially after this whole racist hate campaign that was led against her so recently. She does not want her and her family to be accused of lying about their torment a second time. Especially when the violence has begun to ramp up once again even after her recent displacement, she can't bear it. Frankly neither can i.

Please know that she would not increase amount again unless times were desperate.

Please do NOT punish her during this difficult time by ignoring this. We have seen time and time again how gfms from gazans have to increase their goals even after they have been reached because of various issues, so this is not unprecedented. I've said it before- the goalposts will always be changing because they are going through a genocide.

So i urge you to please be kind and show her your solidarity and urgency once again, because the deadline is still the same. The raffle still hasnt ended so please check out the link above, and partcipate.

PLEASE HELP HER REACH $85.5K WITHIN THIS WEEK. THIS CAN'T WAIT.

current total: $81,530 USD

[nyarumie]

Water Predicament. (Oneshot)

narumi gen x f!reader - smut, NSFW. improper use of gaming controller, pussy eating and fingering, i guess this counts as pussy drunk gen, best friends to ???

Author's Note: Literally my FIRST ever smut/nsfw 😭 Forgive me if there are lapses here and there, I tried my best! Let me know if you want a part two 💌 Feedback is appreciated!

Cross-posted on Ao3. Please check pinned for masterlist, links, and other important info (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

This was only an accident.

As best friends, it is only natural for you to stay in Gen’s office on a daily nightly basis, gracing him with your company (and occasional co-op) as “a sign of your mighty and genuine friendship”, your words, not his.

He had asked you to join him in Mario Kart, deciding it was nice to take a breather from grind-heavy games. You, who has been cleaning up his mess for the past hour out of boredom, happily accepted the invitation.

You sat cross-legged beside him on his futon, grabbing the long forgotten controller on the floor.

Pocky in mouth, he asked you, “You fine with random maps?”

“Always up for anything.” you said.

He wordlessly set up the round you’ll be playing, taking this opportunity to eat up as many pocky sticks as you can; not that he’ll run out of it, half of his snack supply was from you. As you grab another pocky, you hear the countdown of the round go off.

“3… 2…” Now that's your sign to get the gear working.

“1… Go!”

And the vehicles went off. Both of you were silent, save for the occasional grumbles and curses whenever a random player takes over you.

This went on for several rounds, and by the 5th round, you found yourself getting thirsty. Losing or winning didn't matter to you, deciding to stop in the middle of the race. Scanning the stashes of unopened cans, you find that none of those caffeinated drinks fancy your tastes.

You tugged at Gen’s oversized shirt’s sleeve, gaining a percentage of his attention, but still not looking away from the screen. “Mhm?”

“Gen, don't you have a bottle of water around here? I need a drink.”

“Beside me.”

So he does drink water too.

Getting up, you went over to his other side and grabbed an unopened bottle. You went back to your original position, pressing the controller between your thighs as you tried to open the bottle.

‘The cap isn't even budging!’ you internally complained.

You decided to press the water bottle in your thigh too, making the controller press further in.

You're still struggling with opening the cap, despite your thighs and one hand tightly holding it down while the other tries forcing it to twist. Looking to the side, you see Gen still paying no mind to you, which is totally fine, just to save yourself from this predicament.

‘I can kill a goddamn Honju and not open a shit ass water bottle? You’ve gotta be kidding me!’

As you struggle with the bottle, your unmoving Mario Kart character has finally been found by the other players, purposely attacking you with direct-hit items just to torment you—a stranger to them all. Hit after hit causes the system to consequently cause the controller to… shake violently against your clothed sex.

You paid no mind to it, thinking that it will pass—but oh, the random players you matched with are ruthless. They won't stop the attack, the controller’s vibration not stopping anytime soon; causing you to weaken your grip on the water bottle and try your hardest to not moan.

You should've known better and pulled the controller away, but alas, before you can even do that, a rather loud and needy whine slipped from your lips.

Your head whipped to Gen’s direction swiftly, checking if he even heard you, only to find him still focused on the game.

Embarrassed is an understatement to describe you right now. You felt ashamed and disgusted that you’d even feel pleasure from whatever this is! For goodness’ sake, this is Gen’s game controller! It just so happened to have a vibrating feature, that's all.

Still… you’d be lying if you denied the pleasure you felt. Awkwardly, you slid further back so that you won't be caught by Gen’s peripheral vision. You kept the stick of the controller right where you pressed them, a different kind of thirst starting to overtake your senses—water bottle now disregarded.

Pathetic, you felt absolutely pathetic. The perfect definition of getting horny at the wrong place and wrong time. You felt your breathing gradually getting heavier at each vibration you felt, licking your lips as you got needier. You should stop, but you can't. You’re mentally apologizing to Gen right now.

Unable to help it, you once again slip out another needy sound, much subtle this time. “F-fuck…”

To your horror, you suddenly heard him speak, causing you to shriek and pull away the controller.

“You know, you could've just told me if you wanted to fuck.” he said, now turning to watch you with, eyes filled with amusement.

“What are you—!”

“Hm. Right. What were you doing? And to my controller, too.”

Looking at anything but him, your head is a mess as you try to reason your way out if this. Is he mad? “Um… Gen! I was just… just trying to open the water bottle and, this — it was an accident!”

He started inching closer to you, and you know you should be avoiding him, but it's as if you're a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move.

“I’m no idiot. I was also throwing at your character, y’know. That was no accident.”

His arms caged you from where you are sitting, your eyes going wide at your close proximity. You know his figure and stature is much larger than yours, but hell, the evident difference from how close the two of you are makes you want to be devoured.

“At first, I thought nothing of your needy whine as frustration; that water bottle sure is tight as hell. But you were acting weird out of the blue. And you’re not particularly too quiet either, in case you didn't know.”

There's no use denying the obvious, then. You placed your hands on his chest, eyebrows knitting closely together. “Alright, alright! Fine, I was nasty and felt disgusting using your controller that way. I apologize. I should've—”

“You should've asked me to fuck you instead. There, I finished it for you.”

Pinkish hues stared back at your colored irises, his eyes showing no hint of humor, rendering you speechless.

Sensing your hesitation, he lowered his head to the junction of your ear and jaw, softly trailing his lips across the outline of your face. Your heart thumped at this, breathing getting heavy.

A hand made its way over the expanse of your exposed thigh, a blessing that you wore comfortable shorts tonight. His other hand gripped your waist, fingers going underneath your shirt.

“Gonna keep caressing you like this if you don't tell me what you want.”

He’s not making this any easier for you at all. You already felt too heated up at the slightest touch he gave you, saying out loud your desires is just outright embarrassing that you’d rather fade into thin air. But you were getting needier, and you trusted Gen more than you trust anyone.

Breathlessly, you tightly grabbed his shirt, finally giving in. “Gen… Gen, please, need something, need you—wanna feel good, please.”

Hearing this, he wasted no time slotting his lips against yours, earning a whine from you. Without pausing, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you, sitting you back down on his lap. His hands wandered almost everywhere—your thighs, arms, the plushness of your ass, and the shape of your waist. With newfound courage, your tongue sought entrance to his mouth, causing him to groan and squeeze your asscheeks.

His hands found their way through the inside of your shirt, trailing all the way up to cup your breasts. He suddenly pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you. With hooded eyes, you raise a brow at him in confusion.

He kissed your nose. “Let me know if I do something that makes you uncomfortable. I’m giving you a free pass to punch me too.”

You snort. “Didn't know you can still crack a joke. But of course, I’ll take your words to heart. Please continue?”

“Mhm… You're so needy.” he said, pulling your shirt up along the process, revealing your sports bra underneath. You still wear these even at night?

Deciding to tease you, he lightly pinched your nipples through your bra, causing you to whine and arch your back towards him, your hands finding purchase in his hair. “Don't tease. Please, need more. Wanna feel your mouth everywhere, Gen.”

Satisfied with this, he hummed and removed your sports bra and shirt in one go, tongue immediately teasing the surrounding of a nipple and a hand on the other.

Your breath shuddered at the sensation, now fully aware of how close you're hugging him to you.

His mouth moved to the other breast and sucked, groaning at how hard your nipple has become. You hear him speak throughout his ministrations, your whines turning into moans at how lewd his sucking sounds. “Mmpf… So soft, you're so fucking turned on. I bet you're drenched down there right now,” he groaned.

One of his hands supported the back of your head, the other going around your waist. “Wrap your legs around me.” he said.

You did as he asked, moving to lay you down on his futon. He moved his way down, pulling your shorts off of you along the process. He held your legs apart, staring with awe at the wetness evident in your panties. He pressed his thumb to your still covered pussy, earning a whine from you. “Gen, more. Please, do something, anything. Need to come.”

Wordlessly, he moved your panties to the side, cursing at the sight of your fully exposed wetness. “God, you're practically dripping. How shameless you are, really.” he teased. “Since you started with my controller, how about…”

He started another round of game on his BS5, setting the difficulty to the highest mode—that’ll make the AI-controlled opponents continuously attack his unmoving character, causing the controller to vibrate nonstop.

You held your breath in anticipation, getting needier at his idea. The game started, and he pressed the controller to your dripping hole as he felt it vibrate. Your back arched, surprised at the sudden sensation. “H-hah…! Give me a warning next time!”

He just shrugged and continued, moving the controller to your clit. “Fuck… Gen, i-it’s vibrating too hard— Mmph! Feels so good, hah…” Hearing your moans fueled him to turn you into an even greater mess, pressing it harder to your clit and two of his fingers easily entering your dripping hole.

The sensation felt too overwhelming, your moans echoing in his room, body uncontrollably spasming. It's been far too long since you've felt such intense pleasure, and you haven't even come yet! Your legs would've closed together if it weren't for his wide figure, leaving you with no choice but to grab on one of his arms instead, your other hand finding purchase on his futon.

He's so relentless—uncaring of how loud you’ve become, just focused on fucking you with his fingers. He hears you moan his name repeatedly, your head tossing and turning. He feels you getting tighter, a sign of your imminent orgasm.

The gradual, violent shocks from his controller almost rendered your clit numb, one last vibration finally making you gush around his fingers. Your hand tightened its grip on his arm, the hand on his futon covering your mouth as you fell into a silent scream, back arching. Gen mutters a series of curses at the sight of you unraveling before him, fucking you with his fingers throughout your orgasm.

He pulled his fingers out when he heard you whine, aware of how sensitive your hole is. You call him, “Gen. That was… unbelievable.”

“Oh yeah? That better be. But I’m not done with you yet.” he said, a devilish grin adorning his face. “I’ve yet to get a taste of you. Need to clean and drink you up.”

“Wait—!”

He placed his hands at your thighs, lifting them to place them on his broad shoulders. He wasted no time lapping up your juices, the feeling of his tongue making you shudder. His tongue got a taste of your come-slicked hole, moving to swirl it around your clit. This causes you to grip his hair, your other hand pinching your own nipples.

The slurping sounds from your pussy sounded too obscene, him making it known to you that he was definitely having the time of his life devouring you like this. “Gen… too sensitive. But—hah… Wanna come on your tongue, please.”

Good heavens, he wasn't even fingering you, but you can feel your liquid arousal dripping out of you. Gen’s licking on your clit turned your heavy breaths into high pitched moans, the lower half of your body starting to spasm. You felt him wrap his lips around your clit, now sucking it hard, causing you to come even harder than before.

He wiped his mouth at the back of his hand, moving up to slowly kiss you full on in the mouth. Your weakened arms wrapped around his shoulders, welcoming his relaxing gesture.

After a while, he pulled away, a smug grin on his face. “I’m a whole lot better than my gaming controller, aren't I?”

Seriously? Is that why he started this?

You rolled your eyes. “I never said it was better than you. Also, what happened to ‘should've fucked you’? Your dick’s still in your pants, mister.”

You felt his hands slide down your legs, moving it to cross over his back. “Never said we’re done.” He grinded his painfully obvious erection on your drenched pussy, a sign that the night is yet to end.

You silently prayed you’ll be able to walk tomorrow — you have a whole bunch of officers to train, or else you’ll get a week’s worth of scolding from Hasegawa!

[sant-riley]

Domestic Simon Riley? 👀 -🪴

[With you] [Simon 'Ghost' Riley domestic headcanons]

(Romantic Ghost x Reader)

Summary: Simon is your disconcerning boyfriend, to most people it seems as if he'd be incapable of gentle touches and affection, you know better though.

More info: You're apart of 141, no one knows you two are dating, you are younger than him and are shorter than him in this.

Warnings: usage of the word Girl once but it is more geared towards fem! (This is so fucking self indulgent im sorry) possibly ooc for Ghost (idc tbh) , do these even count as domestic? Idk ive never dated someone, nothing else that I know of but do let me know if there is anything that needs to be tagged!

Ghost is so painfully subtle in public with the way he treats you, he'll never outwardly do anything romantic but his actions and how he looks at you while he does it makes people pause.

In your own quarters or homes though, its different.

He's extremely attentive to you, your wants, your needs, your dislikes, he knows it all, he classifies it as important as missions. Simon didn't have a good father growing up, he didn't get to see what a good husband was supposed to be like, he's learning from the bottom up and he takes it seriously.

You'll never have to ask him to make breakfast, he's always up before you and has it cooked on the table with your drink.

Knows exactly when it's the time you wake up, and if he's able he'll go wake you up personally, brushing your hair out of your face and gently running his fingers through to detangle it from your sleeping.

Despite how cute you are sleeping in just his large hoodie, he won't let you sleep in, y'all got stuff to do.

He'll pick you up and bring you down to the table, pressing a kiss to your temple, if that doesn't wake you up (you usually will look up for a real kiss), he isn't afraid to grab your face in one hand and just, smoosh your face, he knows you hate it but it's gonna wake you up bc you're trying to slap his hand away.

He sits across from you, but reaches out one arm across the table with his palm facing up so you can grab it whenever, he likes it when you play with his hands.

Don't get me started on Simon and washing dishes, he always takes over washing duty and let's you dry ‘em. But every other time, he's gonna let his hands stay wet and will tell you to “think fast” and flick water over you (if you truly hate it, he'll stop though)

you know that saying of peeling oranges? He's the biggest proof that there is somewhere out there that will do it for you without question. Doesn't matter what it is, if you don't prefer driving, he has no complaints about driving you everywhere, if you don't like washing your hair? Just tell him what products and what order you use them in, just sit there and relax.

If you wear makeup and you're too tired to take it off yourself, he'll do it for you and it makes me emotional.

In your shared bathroom, he sets you on top the counter and uses one hand to gently grab your chin, taking the remover and firmly rubbing off your eyeshadow/eyeliner/blush/etc, afterwards he'll murmer a “that's my girl.” (He loves you with or without makeup, but he loves you for you, doesn't matter which you choose to do that day or any day)

He covers the corners of the meeting tables when you bend down to grab at the pen you dropped, it's just second nature for him to protect you from hurting yourself. He's yanked you from the street, picked you up just with one arm to make sure you don't walk into something gross on the street, gotten in front of strangers who try and get in your face for something. His body completely covers your own, and he always has weapons on his person, he isn't afraid to resort to maiming someone for you, you're his number one priority.

Simon loves having you sleep on top of him, he finds the weight a good reminder that you're there, you're not going anywhere if you do, he'll notice right away. If you get up to go to the kitchen, he'll sleepily follow you and just stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time til you realize he's there. He'll make fun of you too “You should know ‘m right here, what kind of soldier isn't aware-” “Simon, I'm literally in just a bra and boxers right now.”

He demands your attention, this is one he'll do on bass in front of others bc technically he can get a with it. You're next to a recruit he doesn't like? Suddenly there's papers on a recent mission he needs your signature on, or he needs you for special 141 training reasons (he wants you to come with him to the dining hall, he's hungry and he doesn't want to go alone)

Dude stands right up against your back, in every scenario. His chest is probably an inch away from your back. He's playfully called your shadow by Price and the rest of the guys.

He grabs your hips alot, usually just to rest his hands there, occasionally rubbing small circles into the flesh, humming.

Simon will try and subtly leave as well if you leave the room, he gives it 10 minutes before he makes his way out to find wherever you wandered off too 

Price finds it fucking hilarious, he'll look down at his watch and mentally countdown to when Simon makes his escape. Simon can fool most people but not John, the way Ghost will tap his foot and roll his shoulders are tell tale signs that he's had enough of being there.

He'll dance if you want him to, though he simply sways with you in his arms, if you're of a specific culture, he'll try his best to learn it but no promises, while he is fast learner and perfects everything he does, he's a big man, he's not that graceful.

Without thinking if he sees you're cold, he's stripping off his jacket to give it to you, he doesn't ask, he just moves behind you to drape it over your shoulders.

He'll take off his mask with you, and let you trace the scars that litter his face, let you trace his features too, he's fallen asleep to you doing it and he doesn't know how much you cried silently when he did.

Simon practices new jokes on you, to get your opinion of them until he can tell the others, the louder you groan the better the joke is in his eyes.

Soap asks why you don't even react anymore and you just sigh. You are tired.

When he's especially annoyed and done with the day, he just shoves his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a death grip while he takes deep breaths, in the least weird possible, your scent and body so close to him helps him destress.

One thing he makes a huge point to do is to clean your guns for you, yes you should do it yourself but ever since y'all have gotten together, he's taken it upon himself.

He's scared, more scared than anything that something will go wrong when you're both not on the same mission, this is just a way he can ensure your gun will fire correctly and efficiently, that you can defend yourself when he isn't there.

Speaking of weapons, he gives you one of his personal knives for you to keep, he'll ask for it back only to sharpen it, everything has to stay in its best shape.

Likes when you drape yourself over him when he's sitting, alas he is just a man so he likes to feel your chest against his back.

Pulls you into his lap if you walk by, he'll let you get up if you truly want to but he'll position you to sit sideways and will rub your legs as he watches whatever is on the TV.

For anyone who has arthritis, Ghost will take the time to rub your ointments into your hands, he knows what weather makes then worse and keeps his own tube of it onhand so he's prepared.

He's always buying you things, he knows that it's not necessary but for him, it sees it as ‘if for some reason I fail at something else, at least I can provide this’ someone hug him he's fighting for his life.

Stocks up on every single essential you can ever need, your comfort food and snacks? Always on base and always at your flat, if you two are walking around the shoppes and he sees you eyeball anything, bet your ass he's going online to order it for you immediately, and when it shows up, he just shrugs. He doesn't see it as a big deal, it's just money. Which is very cute but also a ps5 is NOT cheap sir, you can't just-

[sseastar]

✶ meet me at the net ; riize.

info. riize ot7 + reader. fluff. platonic mostly but can be interpreted as more. description. riize as the volleyball team you’re the team manager for. word count. 2.7k warnings. volleyball-sustained bruises (sohee be careful pls). listen to. orange by spyair.

as always, please leave feedback and reblog with feedback and tags as it’s the most important thing when it comes to motivating writers on here! without feedback, i have less motivation to keep writing so pls pls pls do not just like and empty reblog! it gets very draining and unmotivating to see when that happens!

쇼타로 、OSAKI SHOTARO !

position: setter, team captain.

the surprisingly powerful setter that many people usually look over. because of his pure personality, not many fear shotaro, an insanely quick witted player who seems to know the opponent’s weakness even at the last second. hits when people expect him to set someone up, dinks when people expect him to spike, because of this is such a powerful asset to their team. always does the unexpected even when players are already aware of his playing style and yet always has something up his sleeve. his bubbly personality disappears as soon as he steps onto the court. but he doesn’t turn into a huge, tall, intimidating opponent. instead, he’s quiet and swift and quick and somehow that’s even more terrifying to play against. despite being calm and stable on the court, when he’s on the sidelines with the others, he’s hyping everyone up with loud cheers - that’s when his bright personality shows and the opposing team is always so confused - especially since they’ve only ever seen him in the zone.

shotaro dotes on his teammates, always making sure they’re eating enough between matches and drinking enough water. “no wonbin, you cannot survive off of gatorade chews the whole day.” dotes on you as well, making sure you have enough space to sit on the bench if he ever gets subbed out and pushes the ball cart so you don’t have to when you move courts for a new match. will always find you between matches to help set up everyone’s lunches and folding chairs and helps you calm down the others if they’re being too rowdy and chaotic and just overall tries to make your job as the team manager easier. loves to braid your hair to calm himself down between matches, and asks if you can hold the earrings he always forgets he can’t wear during games.

은석 、SONG EUNSEOK !

position: opposite hitter

the most underrated hitter on the team just because of his position. because many focus on outside hitters, his skills are sometimes overlooked. yet when eunseok gets the chance to showcase them, he leaves everyone absolutely speechless with how well he is able to execute the quick back-sets shotaro sends him. sometimes, people don’t understand where he came from, seemingly popping out of nowhere on the court. people are further shocked at how good he is at line shots and cross shots, underestimating his quick thinking, especially with his high vertical that allows him the easily see the open gaps in their opponents’ set up. eunseok is quick on his feet, and never hesitates to dive to save the ball that nears the floor. has no problem with jousting up at the net and is always amazing at getting the ball out of it. he’s known for his powerful topspin jump serve as well, one that he’s definitely received aces for. he’s a quiet player, often only shouting when needed and quietly celebrating in the center while his teammates are the ones shouting. is not easily affected by intimidating players on the other team.

eunseok takes care of the team quietly. you’ve noticed that he’s the one picking up items that the others might forget, or quietly placing water bottles he had refilled back near the bench. he drapes towels on the others’ necks without a word, and yet he masks his caring ways under his quick retorts and unbothered personality. not that anyone never noticed - you along with everyone on the team knows of his considerate, caring nature. sure, he loves to tease you between or even during matches as he sees how much more stressed you are than the actual players and their coach, but that doesn’t nullify all his small acts of service for everyone. eunseok is often found standing at your side between matches, usually because he finds your presence calming before a big game. sometimes, you wake up with his warm up jacket covering you on the drive to the tournament venue in the early morning. seemingly the one to always let you borrow something of his and will have a knowing smug look on his face when he overhears someone compliment you for it, only to say “yeah, i agree,” without disclosing the fact that it’s his.

성찬 、JUNG SUNGCHAN !

position: middle blocker

with his height, sungchan was easily positioned as the middle blocker that would switch out for sohee, their libero. however, it is not only his height that catches people’s attention, nor his extremely handsome face that has onlookers' heads turning. sungchan is smart, and can easily read the opposing team’s next moves. hits rarely get past him, and when they do, he makes sure that instead of allowing the ball to drop straight through his hands to the floor, he makes sure to angle himself in a position that gives the defensive specialists a perfect angle to bump the ball back up. he knows how to turn a hard hit into an opportunity for their team. sungchan is a wall when it comes to blocking, and his height only adds to his wit and thinking as he plays in the front row. not only is sungchan and extremely powerfully blocker, but his long history of playing with shotaro allows him to hit the most unstoppable spikes. no one ever seems to know what these two have planned up their sleeve, not even their own team. but it always works.

sungchan is a ball of energy. he reminds you of a big puppy with the way he’s always hyping the team up, making sure to reassure them when the team happens to be stuck in a rut. he’s probably one of the loudest on the court. he refuses to let the others think badly about their plays, shutting down any possible thoughts of blaming themselves for losing a set or game. his bright energy catches everyone’s attention, and many people seem to fall for him. but sungchan sticks to your side between matches, making sure you always have everything you need and are eating enough while you make sure the team eats enough because “you need to take care of yourself too.” he always tries to gives up his seat for others, especially you, but you insist that he has to rest for their next match. insists on helping you make sure the air pressure in each ball at practice is full just because he likes to spend time with you. before each hit during warm-ups at matches, he turns and points to you, only to laugh when you shake your head after he shouts, “this is for you!” then proceeds to completely miss the quick set shotaro had sent him.

원빈 、PARK WONBIN !

position: defensive specialist, setter

he’s quiet. that’s for sure, though he always seems to get the job done and more. wonbin is a reliable silent threat, and not many people pay attention to him especially since he’s in the back row acting as one of the defensive specialists. he doesn’t mind that his role is underrated because it doesn’t matter to him. he knows how important his role is in the back row, backing up sohee (his fellow defensive player) to dig whatever spike comes at him. he’s especially good with overhead passes and can even act as a setter if shotaro happens to get the first touch. he may be silent, but when wonbin is playing, the ball never touches the ground. he’s quick on his feet and always seems to play scrappy - pulling out tricks that no one seems to even think about. he can hit back row spikes, for sure, but he prefers not to. one thing that makes people fear him are his floater serves. although his aren’t flashy jump serves, his floaters always seem to change direction in the most unrealistic way, swerving past the players on the other side of the net.

wonbin is very similar to haikyuu’s kenma, often not taking care of himself. he seems to take care of the team before himself, even if he’s about to collapse from exhaustion from back to back matches. that’s where you (and shotaro) come in, doting on him to make sure he eats. he’ll only refuse the first few times, so you shove a plate of food into his hands and sit down in front of him to make sure he eats. he’s shy as well, preferring to stick to you to hover his face over your shoulder as his teammates socialize with other teams. however wonbin has another side to him that only the team knows, one where he gets really crazy during practice and ends up busting out the most out of pocket sentences that have the whole team cracking up. it’s one of your favorite moments when wonbin seems to cut tension after losing a match, or mentioning something everyone noticed about something they saw during the day but never brought up because they were too embarrassed to. it has everyone laughing comfortably hysterically, because of course wonbin, the reserved one, is the one to bring it up unexpectedly.

승한 、HONG SEUNGHAN !

position: defensive specialist, opposite hitter, setter

the bright, positive player who seems to bring energy to a match on both sides of the court. he’s always talking despite his introverted personality, and he views it one of his strengths despite being an analytical defensive player on the court. he loves hitting back row, and kind of hates that he rarely gets to do it, but loves to fulfill any role that the team needs. seunghan has exceptional ball control, seemingly able to pass any serve that comes at him regardless of the skill level. he angles it so perfectly to shotaro, allowing the rest of the team to execute a perfectly-set up attack, and that alone has him satisfied. at first, he didn’t think he had an important role, but you had made him realize that defense is just as important if not more, than offense. seunghan can read dinks versus spikes very well, and his agility allows him to get to the ball quick, making him a valuable asset to the back row. seunghan also always encourages his teammates whether they earned a point or made a mistake, never allowing them to even think about blaming themselves.

the most excited, seunghan is the mood maker of the team. he’s the one to bring the most energy to matches, always extremely hyped up and bringing a portable speaker everywhere. seunghan loves to joke around and keeps up with a lot of the trends, being the one to convince you to create a team social media account. he practically runs it with the way he always seems to steal your phone to film the others and themselves between matches, goofing off and having fun. he’s the one to suggest filming one of those videos where the team crowds around the front camera from above, throwing balls, shoes, knee pads, whatever above their head and seeing who gets hit. he can get bummed out if he doesn’t do well, and at these times he finds you, clinging to you during lunch. you’ll be sitting on a bench with your plate out, and he’ll just be at your legs with his head in your lap or leaning against your knees. this is when his introverted personality shines through, and the team does everything to get their mood maker back to his best. after all, it’s what seunghan always does for them.

소희 、LEE SOHEE !

position: libero

even the slight angle of a setter’s wrist allows him to know who the setter is setting to, and sohee quickly adjusts himself to where that hitter had hit last. his brain is almost a computer with how much information he remembers: where the hitters tend to send their ball, how each player serves, which player on the other team seems to have a weakness they can use to their advantage. if sohee has a suggestion in a play, the others immediately follow because it always works. because of his cute aura and the reduced spotlight on back row players, no one expects him to be the mastermind behind the intense plays of the team. and that’s what makes it work. sohee is a secret weapon, because not only is he extremely meticulous, but he is not afraid to get on the floor to dig a hit. he refuses to let a ball drop without even trying for it, and if it does, punishes himself by diving post-play because he should’ve done it to get the ball in the first place. nevertheless, it’s rare for that to happen because sohee reads hitters and setters perfectly. sohee will not hesitate to run across the court to send the ball back over the net on the last touch if he needs to, and you can’t even count the amount of times you’d had to help him ice his shins after crashing into the bleachers to save a ball.

sohee is the team’s charger. everyone clings to him because just being around him is healing. and although he might not be used to the affection and all the skinship, he wills himself to get used to it because he knows how much it helps the team. he happily helps you with your managing duties, especially when you try to find recordings of the teams they’ll be playing against, helping you and their coach analyze it and relaying the information to shotaro. sometimes follows you like a duckling, both at tournaments or at practice, and is one to initiate dodgeball games with the volleyball at the end of practice, usually by throwing a ball in the air which “accidentally” hits anton while he sips on some water. always helps you set up the net for training too, making sure you don’t drop the heavy poles or fall from the post where the referees usually stand.

앤톤 、LEE CHANYOUNG !

position: outside hitter

if anything, he and sungchan are the most feared on the team, primarily due to their large stature. despite his soft spoken nature, anton is one of the physically strongest players on the team, having the hardest hits to pass. that makes him so qualified for being an outside hitter because his spikes often push past the blocks of the other team. he’s still a little new to jousting up at the top of the net, but sungchan’s been teaching him well - how to not feel bad for pushing against the opponents’ hands and how to make sure to be ready for the ball to drop back onto their side. anton was a newcomer to the team but advanced quickly, earning such an important offensive position early into his athletic career. he’s also a quiet player and had trouble calling for the ball at first, but as soon as he experienced the satisfaction of hitting such a perfectly executed spike that even sohee couldn’t pass during practice, he stopped hesitating to call shotaro to set him up. he’s still learning but he learns fast, much to the dismay of opposing teams, especially with his strong jump serve.

as the youngest, the team looks to dote on anton a lot. despite being used to being an older brother, he allows the team to cling to him as long as he can to you. he tries his best not to get in the way and just wants to make sure everything runs smoothly, refusing to let any disputes linger between the team by gently speaking up to try to clear the air. it’s rare that he has to do that, but the team usually calms down once they realize that anton’s the one who’s confronting the issue. anton is another to cling to you when socializing with other teams, though if he gets comfortable enough with the other players he’ll leave you with wonbin at your side. he also follows you around like a duckling, always asking if there’s anything he can do to help with your managing duties and always offering to help you set up for practice.

⌕. author’s note ; currently inspired by my long-lasting haikyuu hyperfixation and my disappointment when i found out they’re squeezing the rest of the manga into a movie instead of more seasons. this is coming from my experience playing volleyball for a good number of years (although keep in mind it’s been while!)

ꗃ. taglist ; @enhacolor @soobin-chois @koishua @chrysbibi

[h0rnyauth0r]

being stuck in a power outage with ghost, who you don’t get along with <3

i'm sorry to take months between content :( i hope everyone's doing well! i missed writing so much!

word count: 2.8k

warnings: reaader w/ vagina, use of good girl, cumming inside, unprotected sex, and other smut-typical moments

you can admit when you’re wrong to basically anybody, really. like right now, you know it’s a bad idea to sneak off during a briefing about the mission you’re going to be going on, but listening to ghost for any longer will have you ripping your hair out and screaming.

you hate that man with a passion, with the utmost sincerity of your being. he pushes you more than the others, he constantly ridicules your movements, and he always compares you to everyone else. just the other day you were ordered to run two extra miles for ‘misbehaving’ by talking with soap about holiday plans.

you’d say he has plans to get you to the point of dropping 141 and moving on, but you know that won’t happen. you’ve grown to love the team, even if he may ruin things. his targeting of you hasn’t reached a point where it’s putting you or others into danger, so as far as you’re concerned you’ll be staying.

it’s a rainy day today, clouds shifting across the sky slowly with a dark and gloomy grey making the world around you seem so sad. you love the rain. the distant thunder cracking down as it begins approaching the base. you’re not sure if the storm might interrupt the plans for later, seeing as it may impact flying out.

you shrug the thought off as you enter one of the side rooms, often used for private meetings and for you, reading. the doors here often use a pin code or a keycard to get into for security reasons, which makes things easier despite the dependence on technology.

you want to read a new book that gaz gifted you, saying that he highly recommended it to you after reading it himself. you never thought he’d be into romance novels, but here you are reading a book thats cover displays a withering rose and mentions a scandalous plotline between a ceo of a company and his newest intern.

you take a seat on one of the many chairs and finally open the cover, reading the first few notes and getting started on the first chapter. the writing is decent, and you find yourself enjoying this tacky plotline more than you anticipated.

time passes, and it’s probably been around ten minutes before you hear the sound of the door unlocking followed by heavy footsteps. you know you’ve just fucked yourself over when you hear a deep sigh. it’s ghost.

“figured you’d be here. why did you skip my briefing? it’s important information.” his voice is stern, angry.

you roll your eyes at his reaction and tone. “i can easily just get the info from price, he has the folders. besides, i already know what we’re doing and i’m already packed for leaving.”

the footsteps get closer and his arms reach around your front, snatching the book from your hands and slamming it shut. “if you had actually come to the meeting like any sensible person, you’d know our mission is postponed due to the storms.” he snaps, watching the way you angrily turn around and face him.

you glare at him, “just because it’s been canceled doesn’t mean you can interrupt my reading, lieutenant.”

now he’s rolling his eyes at you, arms crossing with your book still in his hand. “i don’t give a shit about your reading. you can’t disregard the rules here and think you’ll just get away with things because you’re close with price. at this point, i’m not letting you go on the mission. you can stay here since you like it so much.” his voice sounds like a father scolding his child, and you grow angry at the mention of not being allowed to go on the mission anymore.

“you know i can just talk to price and get this settled myself, simon. i will go where i want. now get out and leave me alone if you’re done treating me like a child.”

he slams the book down onto the table in the room and clenches his fists, turning to the door and getting a keycard out to unlock it.

that’s when the whooshing sound loudly interrupts any movements, lights going out and power ultimately failing. you almost immediately groan out, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. the only bit of light is from the crease of the door, and you can practically feel the anger radiating off of ghost.

“uh, the gen should kick on right?” your voice breaks the silence, feeling awkward about even speaking to the man right now.

“it would’ve already. must not have petrol left.” he says, and you can barely make out him taking a seat in one of the chairs in the room.

it’s nearly impossible to see, and the odds of this happening were so slim that you’re now regretting going into this room in the first place. you should’ve gone back to your bunk, but now you’re trapped here with the lieutenant and you don’t know when things will be back.

a loud pounding on the door startles you, and you hear soap’s voice scream at the door. “gaz is getting some petrol now! we were out of supply, the shipment was running late!” he screams, and you wince at how loud he’s being.

“thanks, soap! hopefully he’s back soon.” you say loudly, sinking onto the floor and sitting with your back against the door.

“should be a half hour.” ghost grumbles, and you nod at his words before flushing when you realize he can’t see you nod.

for a few minutes, neither of you say anything. you want to say something, maybe even apologize for your behavior. you know it was wrong of you to skip out on the briefing, and he’s never going to be nice to you if you continue acting out.

“hey, i’m sorry.” you say quietly.

“huh?”

“i’m sorry. for missing the briefing. it was a bad idea. i know it’s not a good look to skip out on those, so i just wanted to apologize. just because we don’t get along doesn’t mean i can fuck with our team’s organization.”

you hear him breathe in deeply, probably contemplating the words to say in the moment. you feel a little nervous with his silence, almost finding yourself feeling worried about him.

he speaks up though, “i understand why you did it. i’m hard on you, more than the others. it’s because you’re stronger and i know you can handle yourself.”

his words make you feel happy, and you actually find yourself smiling because of something he said for the first time ever. you never would’ve thought that this man sees your strength and resilience.

“thank you. can i ask you something?”

“shoot.”

“why do you punish me for talking with soap, or any others for that matter, but not them too?”

he doesn’t reply, and you don’t exactly expect him to. the quiet is mildly overwhelming and has you worried that the small step forward with the older man may have already regressed.

you hear him stand up, though, and take a seat beside you in front of the electric door. the proximity makes you anxious, but his voice is what makes it less intense.

“admittedly, i don’t like seeing others talk with you like that.” his words hold weight in your head, your neck cranking downwards to process. you’re stuck taking in what he said, contemplating what exactly it means.

jealousy? you want it to be true, in the most selfish way. maybe he sees others as a obstacle to you. but you’re certain it’s actually because they may be distracting you from your potential.

“do you think they’re distracting me or something? because they aren’t.”

he lets out a puff of air, which you could assume is the closest you’ll get to hearing his laugh. curiosity, and more importantly, embarrassment, have you growing flustered with that reaction.

“what?” you ask.

he sighs. “i know they’re not distracting you, love.”

your face grows hot, a state of deep embarrassment combining with confusion. his hand reaches out and touches your arm, and you look in his direction with anticipation at what he’s up to.

“i was jealous, since i wanted you to talk to me instead.”

you unintentionally gulp, swallowing harshly and nodding even though you’re in the dark with him. his hand slowly moves up your arm and ends up caressing your face, thumb rubbing over your cheek as you suck in a breath.

“w-why?” you ask.

“can’t you tell why? i thought you were observant.” his voice is closer, right in your ear and you find yourself shivering. a pool of desire is bubbling up in your abdomen, thighs instinctively rubbing together for any tension.

you never would’ve thought that ghost had any interest in you with the way he’s treated you, but you can very much tell now. his very touch is sending sparks through your body and you can’t help but hope he’s willing to fuck you into these cold floors right now.

“i-” 

“shh.” he puts his hand over your mouth and your eyes roll back pathetically. if he can have such an impact on you with just words, you can only imagine how good he would be in other areas. 

your teeth dig harshly into your bottom lip when his other hand begins reaching for your thigh, kneading into the skin as it moves up and closer to your clothed pussy. he begins massaging the skin there and you whimper desperately.

your panties grow more and more soaked with every passing second and you find yourself staring deeply into his eyes through the darkness. you can see the look in them and it speaks volumes. he knows that you’re completely turned on by him and he’s smug about that fact.

his hand digs into your face and it kind of hurts, but you’re more overcome with the feeling of his other hand pushing at your pants to care about anything else. “you want me?” he asks, voice gruff and lustful.

his hand moves from your face.

“yes.” you whisper breathlessly, willing to do anything at the moment for him.

“good.”

both of his hands tug at your pants, fiddling with the belt and eventually lifting your body up to take them off. your panties stay on, but he fingers at the fabric to rub at your folds.

“do me a favor, yeah? lean against the table for me.” he says, slapping down on your ass as you jump and do what he says. you lean against it like he said, purposefully sticking your ass out so he has more room to work with.

“good girl.” he whispers in your ear, hand pushing your panties aside as his index and middle fingers start circling your clit. you whimper out at the feeling, craving more but allowing him to help prep you for whatever might come.

his fingers are ruthless with their movements, circling and then diving into your wet hole. they curl over and over again before going back out to tease you more. and it isn’t long before you feel your panties soak and you’re practically panting from the amount of pleasure he’s given you.

you can feel yourself getting closer to cumming on his fingers, thrusting your hips back to feel more. “please, more.” you whimper out, and he actually chuckles at your begging.

“more of this?” he asks, pushing three fingers into your hole and curling them to hit that soft spongy spot inside. you cry out when he does that, thighs shaking and knees nearly giving out.

“yes!” you say, feeling like you’re about to teeter off of the edge and absolutely falling apart when his other hand starts to play with your clit again.

you don’t even know what words or sounds come out of your mouth with the force it hits you, his hands coaxing you through it with several chants of ‘good girl’ being whispered into your ear.

his fingers pull out once you’ve come down from your high, a wet sound making you particularly embarrassed with how soaked you are for him. you can hear him taking his belt off behind you and you’re more than eager to feel his dick in you now than you were before.

“you ready?” he asks, and you can hear him using your wetness to coat his cock before he’s lining it up against you and rubbing the tip against your folds.

“fuck, yes.” you mumble to him, eyes rolling back and nails digging into the table harshly as he pushes into you. the tip is so thick that it hurts at first, but once you’re used to it you think you might cum again just from the sensation of him filling your cunt.

“holy shit.” you moan out the words once he’s balls deep, the pressure against your insides feeling so fucking good. you lean down more into the table, and his hands grip your hips tightly as he prepares to move.

and when he does move, you’re breathless. you’ve never been with someone so big who actually knows what they’re doing, and the feeling alone sends you absolutely reeling and wanting this to never end.

“please, go harder.” you say softly, moaning when he listens to your words earnestly.

the table creaks loudly as his pace picks up more, hips hitting your ass hard as he fucks into you with more and more force. he decides to grab around the front of you and pull your back into him, an angle that has you moaning louder than you want to admit.

you can only hope that nobody hears you, but with the slapping sounds of his hips crashing into you and your noises it’s obvious that something is happening in this room right now.

“need to be quiet for me, can you do that?” he asks you, and you shake your head while whimpering out a ‘no’.

his hand grabs your face again, covering your lips and leaving your nose out so you can breathe. he decides to really start pushing it after this, thrusting harder and faster than you thought he could go.

you feel like you’re going to cum again soon. “‘m close.” you whimper against his hand, feeling his free hand reach down and start working your clit like it’s nothing.

you throw your head back when his hand is practically vibrating against you, cumming on his cock and moaning so loudly that the hand over your mouth clamps down harder to muffle your noises.

you can hear his breathing picking up too, small grunts and groans coming out as his own orgasm starts to approach. you’re still clenching on him from cumming so hard, and it sends him into a spiral.

the table you’re against starts moving from the force of his thrusts as he groans out and cums in you, fingers digging into your skin as his hips stutter and slow down. 

you feel so very full- from his dick and his cum at the same time, the feeling of cum dripping out and down your thighs making you shiver a little bit. he pulls out of you and you collapse against the table, breathing heavily.

“thank you.” you whisper, catching your breath as you fix your panties, pull your pants up, and allow your panties to become drenched in both of your fluids.

“it’s nothing.” is all he says, fixing himself accordingly.

you can hear a whirring before the lights slowly turn on, flickering for a moment before powering on completely. you look at him as soon as the lights are on, seeing his usual balaclava covering his face.

he’s looking right back at you, and no words need to be spoken when you get a good look at him. you start walking towards him and right as your hands are getting ready to lift his balaclava up, the door whirs open and soap is standing there.

you know you’re very close to him and immediately feel hot, backing away and looking to soap. “oh, hey.”

he looks between the two of you, a small smirk forming on his face. “it’s about time!” he exclaims.

“soap, don’t.” ghost says, shaking his head and looking to you. his hand reaches out and grabs onto yours and you find yourself gaping at the sight.

he leads you out of that room and down the halls towards the living quarters, eyes never losing that glimmer of lust towards you as you get down to his room.

“you’re gonna have to stay quiet or soap will complain, the walls are thin over here.” is all he says before you enter the room together.

neither of you get much sleep that night, and both receive an earful from soap and a few others come morning.

-

taglist: @wwwurmomdotcom @kovieky @chibijusstuff @clove-shitposts

send me a dm or ask if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!! tysm for reading <3

[jq37]

Would it be possible for you to briefly outline the gist of the Bad Kid’s relationships to each other in terms of individual pairs (i.e. Fig and Kristen, Riz and Fabian, Adaine and Gorgug, etc)? And if that’s too much, maybe specifically the Fig ones (I’m trying to get a sense of her friendships because they are so important to her).

This is SOOOOO late but I didn't have the time to write it when you sent it and then I figured I might as well wait till the end of the season to get a full picture and give the best answer. Hope it was worth the wait!

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

Fig and Fabian: Fig and Fabian are the two that most closely fit the classic "cool kid" archetype (though obviously we know Fig is mainly a big sweetheart and Fabian is a loser no matter how high he rolls). As far back as S1 they were playing the party faces and schmoozing Penelope together. I think their friendship now is exemplified by the fact that when Fabian wanted to threaten his banker, Fig was there as his first mate to help out, no questions asked and no payment required. They're each others, "I can count on you to do this bullshit with me," friends.

Fig and Riz: I think Fig knows she doesn't necessarily have as much in common with Riz naturally as she does with some of her other friends but she obviously respects and deeply cares for him. The main reason she started taking her classes seriously Junior Year is because the whole party passing together was really stressing him out and she spent some of her very limited downtime sending Riz a, "Thinking of you" not to lift his spirits (though she signed it from Gorgug because she can't help being chaotic). Similarly, I think Riz obviously cares a ton for Fig even though he finds 70% of what she does crazy. Think about him following behind her to clean things up as she pretended to be a doctor and had to do surgery in Freshman Year. But I think she's helped him lean into his chaotic side a bit more as well--I always think about their side mission to hell in Soph year and her going, "Hiss at her litigator!" And at the end of Junior Year, he comes to the conclusion of, "I gotta let her do her own thing and not pressure her to live by my standards." So lots of mutual respect.

Fig and Gorgug: Fig and Gorgug have been besties and bandmates since Freshman Year. I've always had the sense that Fig has some big sister style protective feelings towards Gorgug since he's often the gentle giant of the group and this season, she hyped him up a ton with his Barbificer stuff. I would argue that, besides his parents, Fig is Gorgug's biggest cheerleader.

Fig and Adaine: Fig ALSO has sister energy with Adaine but it's less "protective older sister" and more "odd couple playfully clashing". Think them burning spellslots to fight for the best rooms in Mordred in Soph year and Adaine foaming at the mouth to get info about her crush on Ayda. They're living under the same roof so we have to assume they have a lot more interactions that we don't see and I feel like Adaine probably really enjoys that she gets to have closer to a normal sibling relationship with Fig since her blood sister is Aelwyn and that relationship is intense and meaningful but nothing approaching normal. The teasing is there but so is the genuine love--remember how devastated Fig was when Adaine was taken to Falinel in Soph year despite their best efforts? And her long hug during the Baron fight this season even though they were VERY MUCH on the clock. And Fig was Wingwomaning hard (along with the rest of the Bad Kids) to help her notice Oisin. Also think about Fig having a whole crisis of self during The Last Stand and turning to Adaine for reassurance and Adaine just going, what? Girl, no you're awesome and painting an arcane bullseye on her target so she could smite like crazy. Despite the playful ribbing, they have very supportive sister energy. "Absolutely my king, whatever you want."

Fig and Kristen: I think Fig and Kristen have two big things is common. One is they're both very chaotic people and the other is they have both gone through kind of intense rebellious periods spurred by or resulting in family trauma. Because of that, I think they likely get each other a bit better than the others might (and we can see that Fig followed in Kristen's footsteps a ton this season god-wise). Fig also decided to take on the protective, German Shepherd role over Kristen this past season which I think is partially for the bit, partially about personal development, and partially about just how much she genuinely wants to help protect Kristen.

Fabian and Riz: Classic jock/nerd friendship. The original Bardy Boys. The kind of friendship that is made special by the absolute lack of obvious commonality between the two parties. "The Ball" is a friendly nickname now. Oh how the turns have tabled.

Fabian and Gorgug: Fabian started out the series by attacking Gorgug for no good reason while he was being gifted a tin flower and midway through this season he was like Gorgug, you're quitting Bloodrush? I'm gonna miss you :(((((( even though they're still fully in a party together and spend so much time together. The bro energy has completely solidified. It's also funny that Fabian texted Gorgug like, "Congrats on making it with Mary Ann!" and Gorgug was like, "You do know I've had sex before, right? I come from an extremely sex positive household and I had a steady girlfriend for two years who also came from an extremely sex positive household." Fabian has all the aesthetics of a cool kid but Gorgug is actually about that life, lol.

Fabian and Adaine: This is another pair that I think has serious sibling energy (and not just bc they both have posh high elf backgrounds). I'm thinking about Fabian yelling for Adaine's help during The Last Stand (even though she was like why am I the one you're calling for help right now???). I'm also thinking about Adaine being like Fabian hit me :( during the Baron encounter and Fabian being outraged at the thought that he would ever hit her. I think if you asked Fabian, he'd say his best friends are Riz and Adaine (which is really funny considering they're the nerds of the group).

Fabian and Kristen: Bad decision buddies with no game who are still somehow getting their kisses in.

Riz and Gorgug: I think that Riz was one of the Bad Kids who realized how smart Gorgug really is the fastest. He's always like, "Nice one Gorgug," when he offhandedly comes up with a connection that helps solve the mystery and I feel like they have to work on gear and gadgets together. I think the fact that Riz believed Fig's lie that Gorgug wrote him the encouraging note says a lot and the fact that Gorgug immediately made him a real present (the Medal of Wit) also says a lot.

Riz and Adaine: Party nerds, investigation buddies, voices of reason with specific things that get them unreasonably angry. They are the only ones who were excited that there was an academic portion of The Last Stand. Riz made Adaine a folder with nothing in it at the beginning of Junior Year to say, "I'm not worried about you but I want you to be included anyway." Adaine in a conversation to I don't remember who said that she knows that at the very least she and Riz are going to college together. When everyone was wasting questions questioning Bakur, Riz told everyone to shut up except for Adaine and himself. They are the braincells of the operation and they have party nerd solidarity.

Riz and Kristen: I think Riz has a similar relationship to Kristen that he does to Fig. This season he was her right hand man with campaign stuff but ended the season like hey, do you. I don't want to put pressure on you. And Kristen in turn I think appreciated his efforts a bit more by the end of the season. I feel like it's easy to feel like their relationship is unbalanced but I think Riz is a lot like his dad and he not only feels weird when he's not working but also shows his love by working so it's more symbiotic than it may seem at surface level.

Gorgug and Adaine: Gorgug and Adaine don't interact the most, but I feel in my heart that they have a lot of chill, lo-fi study time together. This is me extrapolating a bit but I think they kind of inherently balance each other out. Gorgug being mechanically big and full of rage but really sweet. Adaine being small and polite but full of so much rage. In-universe you know she spends a ton of time standing directly behind him and casting spells while he soaks damage. That's gotta give you a special kind of camaraderie.

Gorgug and Kristen: Whenever I think about Gorgug and Kristen, I always picture them in Sophomore Year, Going Through It with their girlfriends at the same time, lol.

Adaine and Kristen: I think Adaine and Kristen's whole relationship is best summed up by three actions. (1) Adaine casting Friends on her to make her go to school so she won't fail and then Kristen giving her the Help action to be charmed. (2) Kristen making the effort to be mean-nice to Aelwyn because presumably Adaine told her she likes that better. (3) K2 being sent way and Kristen being like, "I did enjoy having a sister" and Adaine immediately going, "I'm your sister." (Which, from her history, you know isn't something she'd say lightly). I think Adaine is often exasperated by the insane shit Kristen does (see eg: ribbon dancing) but she was also right there hyping her up and helping her cover during the "Passed the test to give me new spells" fiasco at the food trucks. At the end of the day, Kristen respects the hell out of Adaine and Adaine is ride or die for Kristen.

[featherandferns]

daylight - ten

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 10 of the daylight series | read part 9 here

content warnings: mentions of abuse and bereavement

word count: 1.5k.

blurb: fulfilling your promise to Barry, what starts as a photoshoot for his website turns into some well-meaning advice.

“What’s biting your bark?”

You lower your camera down from your line of sight so you can meet Barry’s eyes. You hope that way you can decipher what he just said, but no.  “What?”

“What’s the matter?” he translates with an eye roll. You shrug. 

“Nothing. Why’d you ask?”

A small smirk starts to show as he nods to your camera. “Because you’ve just taken about five pictures with the lens protector still on.”

Frowning, you look down to your camera to find that he’s telling the truth. “Oh.”

You take it off and pocket it. How did you not notice?

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s not important,” you politely dodge, flashing him a smile. Barry raises his brows and you get the feeling that he’s not easily discouraged. 

“This might come as a shock to you, but I was young once too,” Barry says. “So what is it? Boy trouble? Girl trouble?”

The apparent gay-rights ally Barry stands stoic, brow quirked and hands stuffed in his overall pockets, as he waits for your reply. You’re a little alarmed how easy he had your number down. 

“Boy trouble, I guess,” you sigh. Shaking your head, you renew your smile. “It’s really not a big deal though. Let’s get these shots done before we lose the light, huh?”

To distract your busy mind from thoughts of JJ, you had gone to Barry’s to fulfil your offer of completing promo shots for his website. He was more than happy to indulge. He even went to the effort of putting on a fresh pair of overalls. 

“Is this that Maybank kid?”

Okay, can this guy read your mind or something? The bewildered look on your face must be answer enough as Barry lets out a raspy laugh. His voice sounds like he’s been gurgling gas and inhaling smog for most of his years on earth. It’s weirdly comforting, like the smell of warm, fresh sawdust. 

“Come on, kid,” he says, wandering over to one of the plastic lawn chairs that sits outside his garage. “Indulge me.”

For some reason, you do. You take the seat next to him, your camera turned off and placed in your lap. 

“We, uh, got in this dumb fight the other day,” you find yourself saying. “You see, we’ve been spending more and more time together and just getting closer, I guess you could say.”

“Close enough to leave space for Jesus?” Barry wonders. Your face burns hot red. 

“Me and you aren't good enough friends yet for you to get that kind of info, Barry,” you jokingly return, hoping your fluster doesn’t show. Barry bobs his head, your joshing response seemingly answer enough. 

“Like I said, I was young once too,” comes his coded reply. 

“Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “I started to get all twitchy about it ‘cause I didn’t know where we stood. And I’ve never been good at complicated. You see, I sorta dated this guy back when I lived in Canada and I guess you could say he did a number on me.”

“He mess ya around?”

“To put it nicely, yeah,” you say, smiling smally. “So I’m not very good at opening up to new possibilities and stuff. It doesn’t help that JJ’s so hard to read, either. He’s the kinda guy who says one thing but does another. And I know people tend to see what they want to see, but I swear to God, sometimes I catch him looking at me in a way that makes me think that maybe there’s something more there.”

“Would that be so bad if there was?” Barry wonders, slouching back in his chair. 

Frowning, you look at him. His question passes in and out of your mind as realisation dawns upon you. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”

“I’m easy to talk to, kid," Barry shrugs. "My wife always said I was given God’s gifted ears: always good to listen but never much to talk."

You laugh softly.

“Yeah, she always came through with the good-enough advice for the both of us.”

Pursing your lips, you ponder his earlier question. You can’t seem to settle on an answer. “I’m not sure if it would be a bad thing. I guess I’m just scared that whatever the answer is, things might change. I don’t know if I want them to. I like how we are now.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Barry observes. 

Chuckling, you nod. “Yeah. Guess I can’t win, eh?”

Looking down, you fiddle with the buttons and dials on your camera. Barry’s quiet for a while and you can practically hear his rusty cogs turning in his mind. 

“You met that kid’s dad yet?” he asks, out of the blue. 

“Who? JJ’s? No, I haven’t met him yet,” you say. “I’ve heard a bit about him though.”

“He’s a troubled guy,” Barry sighs. Shaking his head, he says, “I was friends with him a while back but some people just wanna drown, and sometimes you gotta swim away before you get taken down with ‘em. But that poor kid: he got stuck with two shabby parents. His mama up and left, and before that she was a lying, cheatin’ son of a bitch - not to speak too out of turn. His papa probably has a closer relationship with a bottle than with the kid.”

You think back to the other night, sat in JJ’s house, surrounded by trash and tumult. JJ’s own drinking and smoking habits were easy to catch onto. It worried you plenty but it felt wrong to lecture. He omitted his parents from most stories and anecdotes but you suppose you didn't notice all that much as you had a habit of doing the same.

“I say all this ‘cause I think you gotta understand something. That poor son of a bitch didn’t have the best example of what love was growing up,” Barry says with a sad shrug. “Sometimes that means you don’t always know it when you see it. So, maybe he don’t know how to tell you ‘cause he don’t know what it is.”

You sigh and look out to the desolate road that sits outside his garage. “Y’know, JJ told me about your wife and daughter. I’m really sorry.”

Barry goes quiet but the air doesn’t feel tense. You take it as space to continue. 

“Your daughter was really pretty. I saw her in that photo in your shop.”

“She were an angel. God just needed her back home,” Barry quietly returns.

Looking to him, you smile, small and sympathetic.

Grunting, Barry leans forward. “Look, I’ve known JJ since he was yea-high,” he says, gesturing with his hand to the height of a small child. “He’s got a good heart but a short fuse. He runs.”

“That maybe explains why I haven’t heard from him since our fight,” you mumble. Barry’s smile feels like confirmation. 

“But I tell you one thing that I do know. Just like my little angel: that kid is loyal to the bone. If he cares for someone, he sinks his darn talons in and don’t let go - no matter what. Even his dear old pops he’ll defend to the end of the earth if someone dare say a bad word ‘bout him, despite all the beating and berating.” 

Your brows knit with that and your heart lurches. 

“So, if you come a’callin’ then he’ll come a’runnin’, I’ll tell you that now,” Barry assures you. “You just gotta know what you’re callin’ for.”

Nodding, you take in his advice. It helps ease the anxious insomnia that has been eating away at you these past few days. You start to feel as though a path is being carved out for you, fresh and foreign, different to the one you tread with Tyler. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask Barry. 

His eyes hold the weight of the worlds within them as he smiles kindly at you. “Cause you remind me of my daughter. I like to think that if she had lived to be your age, she’d have been just like you.”

That mark of high praise etches itself into your brain. You wear it like a badge of honour the way a wartime soldier might with his medals, and sit in quiet disbelief that someone would say something so generous to you. 

After Barry’s well-guided advice, you get back to the photoshoot. You feel as though you saw him different through the camera lens after that. Every wrinkle on his forehead formed a map of his life: of hours spent at gravesites; of restless nights, alone in his house; of hard work at the garage, fixing and pimping out cars and trucks. Whilst some might say Barry wasn’t book-smart, he didn’t need to be. He was smart in the things that mattered. People and problems. With that intelligence, you find that as you walk back into your house, things feel less cluttered in your mind. It’s like he gave you the boxes to help organise all the thoughts you’d accumulated about JJ. 

As you approach your bedroom door, that content smile that had stitched itself to your skin the whole journey home fades as you find it closed. You distinctly remember leaving it open. Slowly cracking it open, your mouth drops with your bag when your eyes land on the person sat on your bed. 

“Mimsy?”

read part eleven here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Favorite Day

Part 2 of Favorite Woman

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You, Jim Street's favorite woman, finally meet Street's team.

Warnings: fluff, banter, friendly betting, the usual

Word Count: 1.1k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest (ik it's not Street but it's cute)

Street takes your hand, smiling as the charm on your bracelet taps his wrist. He bought you the bracelet for Women’s Day, and you’ve worn it every day since. His initials are carved into the charm, and you look at it often.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” you muse as Street pulls you to his side.

“Me neither,” he admits, running his thumb gently under your lips. “Some people might think that I didn’t want to introduce you to my team.”

“Those people wouldn’t have had to be lonely while your team worked overtime every week since March.”

Street smiles and pulls you closer as the fall winds blow through Los Angeles. He taps your side and leads you up the short walkway to the house he shares with Luca. You’ve met Luca, but you’re growing nervous about the rest of Street’s team. His coworkers have become his family; it’s been a long time coming, and you don’t want to jeopardize the relationships Street has worked so hard for.

“Ignore Hondo,” Street suggests as he opens the door for you.

Watching Street’s profile, you murmur, “It’s hard to pay attention to anyone else.”

“There’s my best friend!” Luca calls as you enter.

“Thanks for cooking,” you respond, smiling as you pull your hand from Street’s to hug Dom.

“Streeter!” Hondo yells. You recognize him from pictures and smile to stifle your laugh as Street raises a hand.

“I’ll get to introductions, Hondo, try not to be so blatantly pathetic.”

Hondo stands, but Street pulls you before him and says your name. “This is my girlfriend. Girlfriend, this is Hondo, Deacon, and Tan.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you add. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Then you know Street’s a pathological liar,” Tan responds with a smile.

You offer your hand but don’t get a single handshake as you’re pulled into three hugs. Street’s friends are just as kind and welcoming as he said, and as you sit between Street and Deacon, you feel like you are part of the family.

“I see why you hid her so long,” Hondo jokes, smiling at Street.

“Yeah,” Luca agrees as he sets a plate on the table. “Because he gets more annoying every day.”

“I’m just glad they aren’t blaming me for how long it took,” you whisper to Deacon.

“Oh, we’ll be on your side for everything, even if it’s just to mess with Street,” he replies.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Deac,” Street says, abandoning his bickering with Hondo. “She’s part of me, so you can’t mess with me like that. She’s always right.”

“Somebody got that on camera, right?” you ask.

Luca returns with the last of the meal and sits across from you. As they begin eating, they ask you questions about how you and Street met, what you’ve done since you’ve been together, and hint at ideas about marriage. You find it incredibly easy to talk to them, and as you listen to their jokes and observe how well they get along, you smile and take Street’s hand under the table.

“Time for the heavy stuff,” Hondo announces as the food runs low. He places his napkin on the table and turns toward you and Street.

“I told you to return the bracelet when you had the chance,” you mumble to Street, holding his hand in your lap.

“Don’t go there,” he replies. “Hondo has a different idea of heavy stuff.”

“But I don’t,” Deacon interjects. “And we do have something important to talk about.”

“Do you, uh, do you want me to go?” you offer, gesturing toward the hallway to Street’s room.

“No,” Tan assures. “Street can go, if he’d like.”

“Ha ha,” Street deadpans. “Just spit it out, guys.”

“My wife Annie wants to meet you,” Deacon tells you as Hondo and Luca look at each other. “No rush.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply. “I’d really like that.”

“Okay,” Hondo begins. “It’s very clear that you’re in love, that you make Street tolerable.”

“We mean that in the nicest way,” Luca assures. “But… I can’t do it, Hondo.”

“Do you love him as much as he loves you?” Tan asks quickly. “See, wasn’t hard.”

Street shakes his head and begins to speak, but you gently squeeze his hand and smile.

“You all care about Street, and I appreciate it more than you believe. I’m guessing you’re asking because you have an idea of how much Street does for me, how he shows his love. Yes, he buys me gifts, like the expensive bracelet I wear, and takes me to nice restaurants. The answer to your question is undoubtedly, completely, yes. I love Street more than I have ever loved anyone or anything before in my life. You may not be able to see it when Street walks into a room, but he is the love of my life, and I do my best to show him every single day that I’m lucky enough.”

The men around you nod, watching you as Street turns toward you.

“That’s better than any wedding speech I’ve ever heard,” Deacon says, breaking the silence.

“I’m telling Annie!” Hondo yells.

“She didn’t write her own,” Deacon argues, “but be my guest.”

“Did I pass?” you whisper to Street.

He doesn’t answer, so you move to face him. Street’s eyes are fixed on you, and he doesn’t hear anything his friends say as he watches you with a lovestruck look in his eye.

“I know you do,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Heavy stuff now?” Luca asks.

“You mean that wasn’t the heavy stuff?” you question.

“Of course not,” Hondo responds. He smiles to ask, “Now we need to talk food and how often you can serve as a buffer between us and Streeter there.”

Street lists your favorite foods, then says, “And as often as possible.”

“What’s your favorite day of the year?” Tan asks.

You furrow your brow but answer, “November 6th.”

Street smiles, aware that you go above and beyond for birthdays and love celebrating him, but Tan sighs and gives Luca cash as Hondo fishes for his wallet. Deacon rolls his eyes and tells you this is normal, but your curiosity is piqued.

“What did you think I’d say?” you inquire.

“March 8th,” Tan and Hondo answer.

“Because of this one romancing me all day?” you ask, pointing to Street. “That was a good day, but, I mean, they’re all special with him.”

“If you like birthdays,” Tim begins before trailing off.

“I’m really glad I came tonight,” you say. “But there is one question I had for all of you, if that’s okay.”

The men around you nod, and Street leans closer to you as you ask, “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve seen Street do?”

Street groans as he hides behind you, and Hondo, Luca, and Tan speak over one another before Deacon shakes his head and assures him he has seen him do worse.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Street says against your neck. “And don’t think I’ll forget this when it’s time to write wedding speeches.���

[notnctu]

johnny: the dominant

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: face riding, penetration, unprotected, slight corruption kink, size kink, pet names, dirty talk, explicit language, big dck johnny ☆ WC: 3.8k ☆ SYNOPSIS: Johnny knows just the way to entertain you when you’re bored.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: the housemating series has been completed. this will be my final post on here. thank you all as always for being so patient with me and still giving me so much support. love you.

On this calm Friday afternoon, you are found laying flat on your stomach with your legs kicked up in the air. Your finger aimlessly scrolls through your social media, completely mindless and bored to everything. Your room is perfectly situated right by the stairs, meaning you hear every person that comes and goes downstairs.

Some of your housemates enjoy announcing their entrance to the whole house, some stomp upstairs or rummage through the kitchen silently, Johnny likes only greeting you when he comes home. Right on cue, the front door downstairs is open and shut within the same second. Quick footsteps run up the stairs and a familiar tall man leans against your door frame with a large beautiful smile.

“Hi tiny, I’m home.” Johnny rests his arm on the frame and his bicep pops subtly from underneath the sleeve of his white t-shirt. “How was your day?” 

You sit up in bed, tossing your phone somewhere on your pillow to rid the distraction. “Absolutely boring. My class was canceled so I’ve just been home alone all day.” Your adorable pout practically makes his knees weak.

“Say, what if you join me in my room? I have some homework to get done first, but then I promise I’ll entertain you.” You catch the slight mischievous twinkle in Johnny’s eyes. Nonetheless, Johnny knows how to feed into your love language too well. 

While the boys may be too much at times, you’ve always enjoyed company at your side. You never ask for anything more than their quality time, knowing that you’d have more comfort just sitting in the same room as them in silence. 

Johnny lends out his hand for you to take and you’re hopping off your bed as fast as you can. His hands are large and a bit rough from frequent trips to the gym, but you loved how they engulf your own. He isn’t the biggest guy in the room, but he definitely lets his presence known. 

Big personality, big heart, big smile, and big…. “What homework do you have?” You clear your throat and Johnny opens the door to his clean room. Unlike Jaehyun and Haechan, Johnny can see the floor of his bedroom. His room has a hint of his cologne still lingering and accents of his favorite things. 

“My professor split us into groups for a proposal project. We have to give a 15 minute presentation on a new pitch for this large corporation.” He swivels in his fancy chair, turning on his monitors to hurry on a video call with his groupmates.

You make yourself comfortable in his sheets, mindlessly going on your phone again. “Hm, sounds important.” 

“Never as important as the weird shit Haechan always talks about.” Johnny jokes and enters the video call with three other people on the screen. One of them is a girl you recognize from a party not too long ago, her brown eyes widened as Johnny turns on his camera. 

“Hey Johnny.” Something about her flirty tone causes you to chuckle to yourself, not caring if she heard you in the back. 

“Hey.” Johnny smiles back, but pays her no extra mind, “Shall we continue on the graphs?” 

The disappointment in the girl’s face is notable. Johnny has always had an entourage of girls waiting to be noticed by him. You’ve stopped keeping track of his and Jaehyun’s body count at this point. Despite his popularity among girls, Johnny genuinely loves spending time with you. 

You and Johnny are friends before anything else. He was actually the one that invited you to live with them, knowing you desperately needed a place and had a budget to stick to. He has helped you with many sticky encounters with unwanted male attention at parties.

Johnny makes sure your voice is heard in a large chatty crowd. He is every introvert’s favorite extrovert. That’s just the kind of person he is. Infectious personality, everyone wanted a piece of that.

Johnny is not the type to flirt with everything he sees, he is actually quite selective and intentional. He found you attractive the moment he laid eyes on you, but the flirting didn’t start until much later in your friendship. He wanted to make sure it was mutual, not wanting to ruin a good dynamic due to his desires. 

Your attraction toward Johnny began when you had moved into the house. Living with Johnny showed you a whole new side to him that you don’t see normally on campus. His preferred attire at home is no shirt with his toned stomach on display and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, a rather large print that dangles whenever he walks.

When Johnny walks, he strides. He walks with a sense of purpose, confident and so sure in every step. He is touchy, but not to the point where it was on the level of Jaemin. Johnny is a respectable skinship type – gentle head pats, light cheek pinches, a guiding hand on your lower back, chin lifts so that your gaze never falls. 

Johnny, your friend from class, became incredibly dreamy and irresistible. Then came the usual greetings: hi tiny, welcome home, how was your day? As if you two lived in a sitcom.

All of which piled onto the incredible person he already is. Nonetheless, the real tip of the iceberg was when you observed the mutual attraction on your own. Johnny loves holding eye contact with someone, he told you he likes making them nervous. So when your gaze started to waver at the new found nervousness that settled in your stomach, Johnny only held on longer. 

You also caught onto his stares when you would walk down the stairs, his dark eyes following your every movement. Johnny played it safe though, making his flirting into actions and expressions rather than verbal affirmations.

You’re smart enough to know that his lingering stares, cute pet names, and chivalrous acts meant something intentional. So somewhere down the line, you two start sleeping with each other. You can’t remember how it happened, just that the next day you could barely walk. 

While Johnny is popular among the girls, you are also heavily sought after by many admirers alike. You have your fair share of one night stands and friends with benefits, but none of them compare to the way that Johnny fucks you into oblivion. Johnny isn’t the jealous or possessive type either, knowing your worth should be acknowledged by others. 

With Johnny, you’re safe to be submissive. You can guarantee that he’d be someone to take care of you the entire time. His dominance in bed is extremely fitting to his character, making his sex appeal more attractive.

After a complete 45 minutes of listening to Johnny speak in academic language and talk about things that do not make any sense to you, he finally ends the call with his groupmates. He quickly turns around in his chair and you think he’s going to finally talk to you.

However, he gets up and heads to the bathroom without a word. You sigh at the false hope and bury yourself in his warm blankets. His aroma fills your nose and your heavy eyelids start to fall over your tired eyes. Maybe you should have taken a nap during his long call.

The close of the door and the shift on the bed causes you to face the man of the hour. Johnny appears without his shirt, the pendant of his necklace lands perfect at his collarbones. Without any words, he pulls you onto his naked torso and rests a sneaky hand on your lower back. “Missed me?” 

“All I heard was you.” You groan, “but you did sound sexy using all those business terms.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, his fingertips gliding against your soft skin underneath your shirt. “Got all wet hearing me talk about KPIs and APRs?” 

“So wet. Why don’t you see for yourself?” Your playful smile is more than inviting. Johnny raises a brow at your suggestive tone. While his ears perk up at your suggestion, he teases a bit.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into, y/n?” He questions, a bit more serious. “Because I don’t think you remember when’s the last time we’ve slept together.” 

“Of course I do.” You scoff, sitting up on your knees and the blankets falling from your shoulders. “Way too fucking long.” 

Johnny laughs at your answer. “So what I’m hearing is that you want me?”

“I always want you.” 

He’s quick to bite back at your response, “then maybe you should come into my room more often, you know you’re always welcomed here.” 

“See, I would do that but you’re so busy.” This back and forth is a game you two like to play. Johnny wants you to practically beg for his attention, but you like when he makes promises to give you more.

“Oh,” Johnny sits against his headboard and crosses his arms. His pecs squeeze together and his biceps bulge against his chest. You lick your lips, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Are you saying that I don’t give you enough attention?”

Your innocent eyes drop from his intense stare, but his thumb holds your chin up and you’re met with a softened gaze. “I promise I’ll make more time for you. Just know that I’d open the door for you whenever you come knocking.” 

“Pinky promise?” You hold your pinky out for the broad man to seal the promise. He laughs at the childish act, but god how he’s hard as fuck in his sweats right now.

“Promise, baby.” Johnny wraps his pinky with yours. With one swift movement, he’s pulling you by the pinky on top of his chest again. You fall against him with a small “hmph” and Johnny dives in for a sweet kiss.

His hot lips are greedy for a taste. Johnny deepens the kiss and his big hands hold your cheeks to keep you steady. Your hands wander around for something to hold onto, knowing how you’re in for a wild ride in a few more kisses. 

Johnny moans into your mouth when your fingers graze the waistband of his sweats. When your instinct is to move your hand away, he holds your wrist and grinds his hard dick against your palm. Your gasp is lost in the kiss, swallowed by the one man that consumes you. 

His bulge grows bigger with every thrust and you’re reminded by the massive size of him. Johnny pulls away and he looks at you with small stars in his pupils. “Can’t wait to see how wet that pretty pussy is for me.”

“Why wait? I’ll show you right now.” Your eagerness causes his heart to swell tenfold. He still sees every ounce of cuteness that you exude, even in the middle of taking off your clothes. While his nicknames may be an exaggeration, he really does find you the cutest thing ever.

When you roll your pants off of your hips, Johnny watches the string of wetness stick from the fabric of your panties to your thighs. He has to hold himself back from pouncing on you. “C’mere and sit on my face, darling.” 

You happily oblige and hover over Johnny’s face. Your eyes meet briefly, grabbing the headboard in front of you to keep yourself steady and balanced. Johnny cups both of your cheeks to help hold you up. He takes his first long lick for a taste and a low groan erupts from his throat, “you taste so good, just dripping all over yourself.” 

He can barely control his desires, bringing your hips down more as he quite literally devours your clit. You jolt from the contact and as much as you move your hips, Johnny’s grip on you is tight. You try your hardest to keep your legs from squeezing together, but Johnny eats you out like he’s starving. 

“Oh my-” You grip the headboard until your knuckles turn white. His tongue enters your warm hole and your juices cover his chin, sliding down the corners of his lips. If you’re not mistaken, the muffled sound of a chuckle catches your attention. 

Looking down, you see Johnny completely engulfed in between your legs and hazy eyes peering back up at you. “I’m going to cum.” You coo softly and Johnny fucks you on his tongue faster.

Your legs shake from the pleasurable feeling and everything inside of you erupts like a cannon. You’re uncontrollably cumming on his face, eyes rolled back and hand gripping the headboard like you’re holding on for your life. His room is full of your sweet sounds as he helps ride out your first orgasm of the day.

Johnny lightly lifts you up and places you with ease on the bed. Your back hits his lovely sheets and he hovers over you, arm wiping your juices from his lips and chin. “How can you be so cute riding my face?” He kisses your cheek, his hand lightly wrapping around your neck. “You make me so hard, I want to fuck the cuteness out of you until you’ve lost yourself.”

His deep voice remains sensual and light — not menacing or threatening. Johnny’s actions are always full of adoration for you, nothing of malice. “Then do it. I want you to. I want to take you whole.” 

Your hands run up and down his abs. He can’t resist you anymore. Johnny is quick to discard his pants and his large dick springs up proudly against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, watching your expression turn into lust at the sight of it. 

“You like what you see, y/n?” The usage of your name catches your attention, causing your heart to flutter to his call. He rarely uses your name in bed, resulting in mostly pet names or his usual tiny nickname. Nonetheless, on the rarity of your name being used, it excites you even more. He knows every way to make you all his.

“Yes, Johnny. I always love what I see.” You respond, quite seductively. Johnny smirks, running his tip up and down your entrance. Every few swipes has his tip entering your hole just barely, but you’re really a mess to it all. 

Johnny grunts at how your wetness drips onto his sheets, a dark patch forming like a puddle. Your juices stick to the side of your thighs, emphasizing how much chaos he has caused in between your legs. He positions himself and enters slowly, enough for you to adjust to his size. You're squeezing your eyes shut from the pressure and the stretch. 

His thumb leaves a soothing touch between your eyebrows to ease the tension in your face. Each touch has him pushing deeper into you. However, your hand is quick to halt him at his abdomen and he stops all of his movements. “Should I stop?” He asks with concern, not wanting to overdo anything that could result in pain.

“Johnny,” You breathe, “just give it all to me.” You can tell Johnny was holding back, but the slowness only causes more anticipation and agony. You’d rather him singlehandedly thrust into you, all the chaos to hit you like bricks. 

He takes your wrist from his stomach and pulls your body onto his dick in one fluid motion, until your hips hit and he is practically in your guts. You yelp at how he fills you and you’re shy at how well you take all of him in. “Like this, baby? You take me in so well.” He leans down and you’re awarded a kiss on the lips.

Johnny lifts your body onto him as his back hits the mattress. You lay on top of his big stature, your boobs against his chest, dick still in you and legs now on either side of his hips. He bends his knees, feet planted sturdy on his bed, and drives his dick up into you. 

You quickly grip onto his bicep, wailing at how intensely his tip hits your sweet spot every time. Johnny wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close and keeping you steady. The position is cute, quite lovable as it’s like the two of you are in a warm embrace. All until someone sees his vigorous thrusts into your drooling pussy and your body moving up with every hit. 

Your eyes meet his for a moment. He smooths out the hair from your face to see you clearly and smiles at you. Johnny has the biggest heart for you – it’s all obvious in how his pupils dilate ten times in size when he sees you. “All of a sudden, you want to look at me with your gorgeous gaze?” His voice rumbles your chest and despite how raw his dick is stretching you, he is quite a romantic.

“I’m not cute anymore?” You’re barely able to speak, every thrust causes your voice to tremble and your mind to go blank. Johnny holds your hips down onto his shaft and every rush of wetness wraps around him tightly. You’re shaking yet again as his tip rubs against your insides, kissing every part of your cervix. 

“Fucked all the cuteness of you, my sweet girl.” He plants a wet smooch on your temple, grinding his hips into your quivering body until your nails dig into his skin, marking beautiful moon crescents.

Suddenly, you both hear the front door slam close and hurried footsteps running up the stairs. As you’re frozen, Johnny quickly switches positions and covers the blanket over the two of you. Not that anyone would come barging into his room, but it’s good to be safe. He’s always thinking of your comfort and decency.

You’re back on your back and Johnny hovers over you. His weight is slightly heavy over yours, but the pressure on your chest feels warm and enough to feel secure. Your legs are spread wide for him, as he holds up your knee and pushes it at a bend. Johnny handles you so freely, all the work at the gym paying off in these fortunate situations.

“I’m home, losers!” Doyoung yells. “And so is Jaehyun!” Doyoung’s voice follows with another door slamming shut across the hall. Another set of heavy footsteps run up the stairs and without a word, another door closes. 

“I guess Jaehyun finished his classes early.” Johnny’s mind wonders and you cup his cheeks to focus.

“Where is your mind at right now?” Your stern expression has Johnny laughing, completely entertained by how he is balls deep in you right now and his mind was on why your housemates came home early.

“Okay, tiny. You got me.” His smile brightens up his intimidating demeanor, you’ll never get over how handsome this strong man is. “Let me finish what I started.”

His statement sent shivers down your spine, but you already know what’s to come. His hard dick pulls out, almost all the way, the feeling of emptiness occupying your lower half fast. Johnny pushes back in without another word and fucks you into the future. His rhythmic thrusts are fast and hasty, but enough to feel intense and cause your orgasm to build once more.

“Look at me when you cum.” You don’t have to say it because Johnny literally feels your pussy tighten around him, just seconds from coming undone. You aren’t sure if you’re able to hold eye contact in the midst of you losing your wits, but Johnny doesn’t let it slide. 

As you squirm from the pleasure bubbling in your stomach, he leans forward and lifts your head off the pillow. A large hand to support the back of your head and eyes wide open to see how his big cock enters your pussy with so much ease. 

Every part of your muscles break at this point and you’re moaning at the top of your lungs. You do feel a bit apologetic to the other boys in their rooms, but it has to be an afterthought. Your high comes crashing and crumbling as your cannon shoots out everything you’ve held in. You feel so hot and tense, pleasure leaving your body within seconds all because of Johnny. 

Johnny watches your orgasm, feeling his come a close second after. He pulls out and gives himself a few strokes over your naked stomach. His white streams paint your skin and Johnny’s eyes are full of intensity. 

You both release air from your lungs as fatigue takes over both of your bodies. Johnny reaches over for some wet wipes he stores in his nightstand, cleaning you up and leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. Your giggles only cause him to continue, wanting to hear more of them.

“Since when did you get so buff?” You ask, poking at his arms. He flexes for you, showing off his protruding muscles on display.

“Since I found motivation for the gym.” Johnny helps you get clothed, along with putting on some clean pairs of underwear and sweats. 

“Which is?” 

He joins you underneath the sheets. His arm snakes underneath your head, allowing you to turn your body into his. “To be able to toss you around in bed.” He smirks and you’re already rolling your eyes. “Not that I ever had trouble before, but it’s nice for you to have something hard and solid to grip while I’m fucking the life out of you.”

“Okay, Johnny Suh.” You cover his mouth. “We get it, you’re a big buff guy. You can even toss Doyoung if you wanted to.”

His eyes light up and he sits up with an idea, “should I try?” He gleams, his boyish nature captivating his expression. Nonetheless, Johnny is jumping out of bed and out the door before you can even respond. 

Doyoung’s yells fill the hallway and Johnny is laughing maniacally. The one time Doyoung doesn’t lock his door. “Just let me try!”

“Get your sweaty body away from me! I know what you two were doing in there!” Doyoung shrieks back. 

Oh, how you love living with your boys. You’re thankful that Johnny took you in and truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Through protein powder scattered on kitchen counters and nightly hangouts after long days of classes, you wouldn’t trade laughter with your housemates and the love you all share for anything. 

When you peer out into the hall at the commotion, a smiling Johnny has an angry Doyoung over his shoulder at the door. “I did it, y/n!” Johnny exclaims, even doing squats with the bunny flailing around.

“Put me down, you meathead!” Doyoung kicks his feet, eyes up to the ceiling.

You smile to yourself, a soft chuckle bursting into a robust laughter. “You guys… are so weird.” 

“But you love us.” Johnny points, “isn’t that right, tiny?”

Your usual response would be something sarcastic and hard to get, but you give in this time. 

“Yeah, I do.”

[hillbillyoracle]

So you want to print and distribute a free zine...

I wanted to throw together a short tutorial on how I print zines using this excellent COVID safety zine by @newlevant as an example.

Printing

First make sure you are clicking on the printable file. When you open it, it should look slightly jumbled. I always look for seeing the front cover and the back cover on the same page.

Then click "print" (usually a printer icon) and open "more settings".

The key things people tend to get wrong when they try printing zines is they forget to make sure that it is double sided and flips on the short edge. If you tried printing one and it came out looking wonky, make sure to check this.

Also, it will make your life infinitely easier if you use the collate option should you have it available to you.

Fit to printable area is a helpful setting to have on if you're printing zines who use a different paper standard than you. This zine didn't for me but I leave this on out of habit.

When you've got this all set up - print as many copies as you want to assemble.

Assembling

When you get them out of the printer they'll look like this. Just a big old stack. I highly recommend parsing out each individual copy before you try assembling any. I have made that mistake before.

This is how I stack mine.

I like to leave the cover side up as it makes for a clearer division as I'm assembling.

As you're flipping through these to parse and stack them, check them over for any issues with printing. I ran out of printer toner on the first three so I'm glad I checked.

Imperfections are fine but you're looking for anything that makes critical information unreadable.

To assemble a copy, get them lined up by tapping them on the table along a short and a long edge.

Both hands is a lot easier but I was trying to take a picture lol

Then fold them hamburger style and smooth down the spine as best you can. If you have a bone folder or similar use that.

Again, let go of perfection. We are looking for good enough here. Minor errors here should not make info unreadable so don't sweat the small stuff.

I recommend doing all your folding in one go to prevent errors. Or at least it really helps me.

Now it's time to staple. You will see my fancy stapler in the background - you do not require it and I would not recommend it. Unhinging a normal stapler is way easier to use in my opinion and this one gets jammed fairly easy. Use what you've got.

If you don't have staples, but you do have sewing supplies - check out this tutorial for a way to bind it with thread.

If you have no staples and no thread, you don't have to staple every zine. Smaller ones (~5 pages or less) do fine with no staple. They can be a little tougher for some people to use and don't hold up as well being taken in and out of places so I would consider that when thinking of where to leave them. They're still well worth printing and putting out.

This zine is small enough that one staple in the center should be enough to keep it together.

I opted to staple in two places - one about an inch in from either edge - mostly out of habit. It does add a little stability and will make them a little better for putting in Little Free Libraries and other places where they'll be removed and placed back.

Here is my partner looking over the zines to make sure my stapling didn't cut off any important information in each copy. It's a little tedious but it's pretty important. A quick flip through can mean the difference between someone getting the info you want them to have or not.

And here's the finished product

I made 15. I'm pretty privileged and have been making zines for over a decade now so it's almost like knitting or crochet for me. Feel free to make fewer copies or just one for yourself. It still counts.

I will stick some in each car and my bag. I have some medical appointments coming up so I will for sure be leaving some of these in the waiting room.

I'm also going to keep an eye out for Little Free Libraries and other place where people are looking for something to read. I might also toss some on the tables of a coffee shop I pop into sometimes (masked, take out only) and the library to pick up books (also masked).

I tend not to give them to specific people, even people I know, because people are way more open to information they've picked up themself than something it feels like someone is pressuring them to read. But if people bring it up in conversation, I'll be sure to offer a copy to anyone who is interested.

Hope this is helpful!

Go out there and print!

[finniestoncrane]

BTAA!Scarecrow x GN!Reader, word count: 2k commission: jonathan experiences the joys of getting to be the victim for a change, and you are more than happy to oblige if it means getting to test out your theory that nothing can actually scare him 🎃🧡 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: roleplay, bondage, sensation play, impact play

It was a willing ‘kidnapping’. For all that Jonathan had studied film and screen, scrutinised and admired the various acting techniques of the horror star he loved so dearly, his acting skills were below par. But it hadn’t stopped him from insisting that there had to be a theme, a plot, to your change in the scheduled programming.

If he was going to relinquish his position as the father of fear, it was still going to be under his terms.

“You know, I always found myself tutting at those scream queens. Who falls over that often? Let alone when you’re being chased by a nightmare beyond your imagination…”

Jonathan’s eyes flitted to you quickly. Even now, there was still a predatory glare in them. That natural inclination towards control and dominance still lingering a little, despite the situation he, very willingly, found himself in. 

“... Now I understand. They wanted to be caught. To be the victim. It’s quite delicious, actually.”

His gaze fell to his wrists, bound to the chair he sat on, the soft, specialty rope equally tight around his ankles. He looked the perfect victim. Dishevelled, sweating, shirt on but unbuttoned exposing his soft stomach and chest, lightly peppered with greying hairs. Only his underwear covered the bottom half, giving you a glimpse of the obvious bulge at the front where his semi-erect cock stole the stage, twitching each time you came closer to him, fear and excitement ruling his reactions. 

“Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe it gets boring being the big, bad, villain. And maybe I needed a little subversion of expectations. Either way, this is a very interesting twist.”

The quieter you were, the more he spoke, filling in the silence with his rambling, a nervous trait, or perhaps just one that signified how impatient he was, how badly he wanted the real fun to begin. 

“I’m so used to every convention, every trope. But this? This is something new. This is how I felt when Pamela Voorhees was revealed to us. When we saw Norman in his mother’s dress and that terrible wig. When Kramer stood up from that bloody puddle in the middle of the bathroom floor. This is a genre defining moment.”

You lifted the satin scarf from the table where you had laid out your instruments slowly and carefully, allowing Jonathan a glimpse at what was to come, setting the scene, allowing the tension to build. His heartbeat was almost audible from where you stood in front of him, the steady thuds louder as you leaned in to him, tying the scarf around his head and adjusting it over his eyes until his vision was completely blacked out. 

“Ah, heightened senses? Or intentionally taking away an important one that allows for security in unfamiliar environments? Either way, I’ve got goosebumps!”

He was giddy, an almost childlike glee lilting in his words as he wiggled excitedly in the chair. Of course, the aim of the session was to please him, but you wanted to scare him too, and that still seemed like an impossible feat. 

Despite that, however, he still seemed enthusiastic about his lower position on the food chain. The moment his vision was rendered useless, his skin began to prickle with a warmth that started deep in his core, the slight twitch of his cock as he listened carefully for your movements was a dead giveaway of his obvious excitement.

“You know, this is often why horror movies are so dark, at least modern examples. Darkness is terrifying, what’s hidden there is left to our imagination. It’s a cheap and easy way to conjure terror without doing much.”

With your fingers hovering over them, dancing with delight, you tried to decide which of your tools to use first, eventually settling on the pinwheel. Something sour to begin, you could always soothe him afterwards if need be.

“Not that I think you’re looking for the easy way out, it’s more of an observation, a chance to educate you on- ooooh!”

Jonathan’s lecture was cut short, mostly of his own accord, as he felt the sharp points of the pinwheel begin to cross over his bare thighs in light tracks. You were careful to keep the pressure light as you pressed it towards the inner, softer areas, and back out again. 

“Actually, you could be a little rougher with the- ah, ah, ah…”

“Jonathan.”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Be quiet. I’m not asking you. I am telling you. Keep your mouth closed from here on out…”

You lifted your free hand to his cheek, a smile curling up on the corner of your mouth as he flinched at first then settled into the caress.

“... or you’ll really suffer, ok?”

“Y-...”

He silenced himself, immediately obeying your instructions, and nodded his head, hair falling loose from the tidy parting and falling in front of the silk scarf. 

Pleased with his ability to take an order, you increased the pressure of the pinwheel as a treat, finding yourself far more excited than you imagined by the small dots it left in Jonathan’s skin. He hissed a little, but never uttered any of the safe words you had agreed on, and each time you ramped up the pain, testing his limit, reaching his threshold, his smile only grew wider in response. 

When you finally stopped, deciding to move on to the next implement of torture, as Jonathan had called them, you could feel him arching his back in an attempt to keep you near him, his wrists straining against the ropes until he sat back down in the seat and made an effort to be patient. 

As far as his preferences went, it was becoming clear that Jonathan wasn’t a soft person, and his lack of pain threshold had begun to intrigue you. So the next item you picked up was the riding crop. You’d felt the pleasure of it before on your own flesh, Jonathan’s fist clenched tight around the end as he brought it down against your rear. He’d smiled as you yelped, a cruel satisfaction in coaxing any kind of animalistic sound from you. You wondered if he’d like to know what sounds he might make.

With the end of the crop hovering just over his bare thigh, you swatted down quickly, not touching his skin, but letting the woosh of the cool air give him a hint at what was to come. And, as predicted, as hoped, Jonathan’s body twitched and he let out a quiet exclamation. 

“Oh… are you tricking your audience into believing that this is a thriller? Offering up suspense before the true horror follows? Is that the twist?”

Despite the smug tone he was trying to convey in his words, you could hear his voice trembling ever so slightly. There was worry behind it. Excited worry, but worry all the same. You wondered how soon you might be able to get terror out of him, if at all. 

It was all well and good keeping up the slow build. Easing him into what was to come for him. That was what he wanted, after all. You’d seen his eyes widen when the third act of a film opened up, the tense but manageable pace of the first hour giving way to a thundering and panic-inducing climax. That’s what he wanted for his body. To be ravaged, hunted, terrorised. You could see it now in the way his fingers scratched at the arms of the chair, how his stomach tensed as he let his imagination run wild. Anticipation built, and it would hopefully give way to the delicious adrenaline rush of fear. You wanted to give him that, a good scare. 

With a quick movement, snapping through the air, you brought the crop back down again, pulling it back with a creeping grin as you watched the red welts form almost immediately on his legs, almost magical in the way they were created from nothing but the impact. Knowing it would smart, you sat down on his lap, watching him wince as you put pressure on his newly bruised flesh. 

Closing in on him, listening to his breath hitch and quicken as you dove into his neck. With your tongue pressed out, you let it drag up the front of his throat, watching the veins and tendons pop as he tensed against the surprisingly gentle touch. It was what he needed, but not what he wanted. The contrast was sweet, but only for a moment. And then you were both back to needing the blood lust.

Your teeth sank into him, sharp and tight, a force he hadn’t expected, and his wince, the sharp mewl that followed it, only made you bite down harder. And as that surprise fell away, you offered him another, raising your hand and placing your fingertips to his throat, increasing the pressure little by little, watching his gasps become shallower, more strained. The more he choked, the more he struggled, the harder he seemed to get.

Below the blindfold his eyes were widening, pupils dark and sparkling with excitement. His mouth hung open in abject terror as what was left of the air in his lungs finally expired, and his life flashed before his eyes as he tried to refill them. You eased up, watching him take a deep, panicked breath, enough for him to be able to answer you, then you closed your fingers again, speaking quietly, so soft in comparison to how you were treating him. 

“Tell me you want me to hurt you, Jonathan.”

His choked response was filled with enthusiasm. 

“I do, I really do.”

You leaned in further, lips touching, teasing, the shell of his ear.

“Are you scared?”

There was a pause, long enough that you realised he was purposefully avoiding the question. You tensed your fingers against his throat once more, watching his fingers scratch against the chair. He might not actually be all that scared, but he knew what you wanted to hear. And with a conniving little smile at the corner of his mouth, he answered.

“Oh, I’m just absolutely terrified.”

It was dripping in sarcasm, the kind of disingenuous statement you’d heard him make to his victims when they pleaded for mercy and he was stringing them along. Infuriating, almost. Of course, you’d set out with the main goal of pleasing him, and you’d succeeded. But you both knew that what you really wanted, almost equally desiring it, was to have his heart racing, chest pounding, as he let fear find him. 

Beneath you, you could feel his cock throbbing, desperate for a release, the tension ramping up. Incomplete. No grand finale. No closing scene, not even a cliffhanger. 

The monster was always scarier when left to your own imagination. When nothing was given away.

Without a word, you stood up and away from him, listening to his whimpers as he gathered his breath. He waited, breath hitching, for the next act. But it wasn’t coming. Even as he spoke your name, a quiver on the third or fourth time he asked for you, you refused to let him know where you were. You’d kept your footsteps imperceptible as you made your way to the corner by the door, content to find a good spot to watch him lose his mind in sensory deprivation. 

There he was, tied in place, blind to the room and so blind to where you were hiding from him. He called your name once more. Never the safe word, he wasn’t about to admit defeat. But you could hear the desperation in his words. 

You were going to let him worry. He knew that, deep down, even despite his pleading. 

It wasn’t fair, to resort to jumpscares, to torment him. But it was the only thing that seemed to work. Deny him the pleasure, deny him the happy ending he wanted. 

And it was working. He could feel himself edging closer to the end, core tightening as he wondered when you would jump out at him from the darkness, like the monster he hoped you were.

[heartseungs-archive]

between platforms | l.dh

genre ➳  1930s historical au, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers pairings ➳ private investigator!donghyuck x dancer!reader  word count ➳  5.3k warnings ➳ mentions of anxiety, gets a little suggestive at the end info ➳  the route and setting are inspired by the orient express!

It’s unpleasant to start the night off with crime.

Donghyuck would also argue that it’s unpleasant to start off anything in general with breaking the law, but private investigators don’t often get the best pick of the bunch.

The furnishings of the first-class cabin are satisfactory at least, velvet drapes dragging along the marble floor. His tea sits on the small table, wisps of smoke occasionally drifting up and dissipating into nothing as he flips through the newspaper clippings.

He’s always preferred clients with deep pockets, because of the benefits allowed. However, they’re infuriating in their own way - he has much better things to be doing than looking for a lost diamond necklace worth a few million dollars. He doubts it could be a third-class passenger, for the sole fact that they barely have access to the carriage. Even a second-class passenger would stick out like a sore thumb, their good clothes nowhere near the ornate finery that members of the nobility lived in.

To his knowledge, there’s only one other passenger sharing this carriage with him.

Donghyuck stands up abruptly and pushes the door, hard enough for the hinges to creak unstably. At the other end is an identical one, and he hesitates slightly, even though the captain’s given him full permission to investigate. It seems money and title will open most doors, metaphorically and literally.

He’s never been one to back down from a challenge, however, and few first-class passengers are worthy adversaries. Donghyuck’s good at making people feel important, something that many of them heavily appreciate.

When the door opens, he sees a little boy who barely reaches up to his shoulder. “Oh. Hello,” he greets, eyes widened in shock.

This is most definitely not his target, and it seems strange that a child would be left alone in a cabin.

Until there’s a disembodied voice from behind, clear as day.

“Sungjin, is that the porter? Let him in.”

Donghyuck clears his throat, stepping in before the boy can reply. “Unfortunately, no. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he says, watching as your expression remains blank. It’s obvious that you’re no older than him, the elaborate coif of your hair betraying your wealth.

Still, your face doesn’t ring any bells, and considering Donghyuck’s familiar with most of the nobility, it’s suspicious. Especially considering the fact that you have a child with you, whose name is also not one he recognises.

“Well, Lee Donghyuck, can you help me move the table to the other side of the room?” Your arms are crossed now, staring down the intruder who has interrupted your afternoon.

“I’m a private investigator. And I’m here to take your statement-”

“Help me move the table, and then we can talk,” you cut him off without a second thought, and Donghyuck’s momentarily taken aback, before he relents. He has a feeling that if he doesn’t help, you might just kick him out of the cabin forcefully.

When he’s standing opposite you, Donghyuck takes the chance to observe, his eyes pausing on your gloves. They’re pale green silk, tapering delicately at the fingers. Despite that, you don’t hesitate to grab onto the other end of the table. “Where do you want it?” He asks, and you tilt your chin towards the window. “Just there.”

The moment that’s done, however, you extend a hand out, expression looking slightly friendlier. “Y/N. A pleasure to meet you, Donghyuck.” Your grip is firm when you shake his hand, and there’s a mixture of doubt and confusion swirling in him from the first-name basis that you’ve established.

“It would be good if I could speak to you alone, without your son,” he mutters, watching as your features morph from surprise to amusement. The way you let out a laugh makes Donghyuck feel as if there’s a secret only he’s not privy to.

“Sungjin’s my younger brother, not my son. Do I really look that old?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice as you look at him, and Donghyuck shakes his head vehemently. Embarrassment prickles painfully at the back of his neck, and you smile slightly.

“Sungjin, go to the bedroom for a bit. I need to talk to him,” you instruct, and Donghyuck watches as the young boy listens obediently, disappearing past another door. Once he’s gone, you turn around, settling on the chaise. “I heard about your investigation from the other passengers. So, how can I help you? ”

“I need to know where you were in the evening two days ago, and it would be good if someone could provide an alibi.” You hum at that, rubbing your fingers over the material of your gloves.

“I was with Sungjin the entire time. We had dinner in the main saloon, and then spent the rest of the night playing chess,” you recount, and Donghyuck slots that information away. “If I may ask-” he swallows nervously, before continuing, “-where are your parents?”

Your eyes turn harder at that, back stiffening slightly. “There are no parents in the picture. It’s just me and Sungjin,” you bite out, and Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrow.

How the hell are you paying for this cabin, then? Two first-class tickets, one for a child, no less.

“I’m a performer, if you have to know. The trip is being paid for by a client,” you explain, and that puts together some of the puzzle pieces for him, but not all. Donghyuck wants to ask more, but the questions he has would derail from the case itself.

No wonder he didn’t recognise you.

But what client would pay hundreds for a performer and her brother? Unless there were other aspects of your job that you had to fulfil. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of that.

You seem to understand the questions swirling in his mind, taking it upon yourself to answer them.

“I’m on contract, and I’ll be working in Venice for a year,” you continue, fingers drumming against the smooth hardwood of the armrest. Donghyuck nods reflexively, realising that any further questions would be aimless and purely to satisfy his own curiosity. You’re likely not the culprit, even if you look perfectly capable of charming most people into believing you.

“You should come to one of my shows. I’ll save a table for you if you write in advance.” The tilt of your smile holds a promise, one that causes heat to prickle at the back of his neck.

Even if Donghyuck doesn’t think you’re guilty, he definitely doesn’t trust you. He wipes his hands against the linen of his pants, before standing up.

“Thank you. I’ll consider it.” He’s definitely never going to see you again.

You don’t respond, but your gaze follows as Donghyuck nods in farewell, and even as he slides the cabin door behind him. There’s a tense knot in his throat, and Donghyuck’s not entirely sure why he’s so on edge. Maybe it’s you, with your sharp eyes that unsettle and fascinate him in equal measure.

The next time Donghyuck sees you, the train has passed Lausanne, and his notebook is filled with information on each of the first-class passengers. You included, and he had asked around out of curiosity. Y/N L/N, age unknown (though definitely younger than twenty-five), and a dancer bound for stardom. Still, your family history or lack thereof is the least of Donghyuck’s considerations.

He hates the uncertainty that gnaws at him, the multiple questions that lead to nowhere. Quite frankly, it’s bizarre, and he’s never met a case where he doesn’t even have a lead to follow.

Donghyuck’s pacing holes into the carpet when there’s a sharp knock on the door, and it swings open to reveal you with your hair down and a robe hastily thrown over your sleeping attire.

It’s modest, passably so, but having you in front of him like this makes Donghyuck’s heart speed up imperceptibly. Maybe he’s been spending too much time with the higher echelons of society, too used to their measured decorum and standards.

You’re not even wearing shoes, eyes frantic as you go into his room without a second thought.

“You’re a private investigator, aren’t you? Does that mean-” you swallow thickly, fists clenched before you continue “-you can find people?”

Your question quickly draws Donghyuck’s attention, and he feels his brow crease. “Depends. But yes.”

In the poor light, it looks like you might have been crying.

“It’s Sungjin. He said he wanted to play with the kids, so I let him go to the other carriage, but it’s been hours and no…no one’s seen him since lunch.” Your breathing is ragged, indicative of the panic that’s been clawing at you for a while. Donghyuck may not know you well, but he rushes over anyways, placing his hands on your shoulders in an attempt for comfort.

“Calm down. Listen to me. Do you know if he got off the train?” His mind goes to the worst case scenario, that Sungjin may have been left in Lausanne. You shake your head, rubbing away at the tears brimming. “He’s a smart boy. Unless-” you look up at Donghyuck in alarm. “What if someone took him?”

It’s not impossible. Donghyuck’s heard of it, kidnappers who target first-class passengers for ransom. Children are easy to convince, especially with the right motivation. But he’s not sure how you might react, so he bites his tongue. “He might just have gotten lost. This train is big,” he assures.

But that’s also a problem in itself. Hundreds of passengers and over thirty different cabins - even if your brother is perfectly safe, it’ll take a good while to locate him.

Still, Donghyuck can’t shake the image of the young, doe-eyed boy who pulled the door open for him. He guides you to the chair, placing a call for hot tea before settling down opposite you. You’ve fallen silent, staring off into nothingness.

“You last saw him during lunch. Do you know which kids he was with?”

“Some of the second-class passengers. He said the first-class kids are hard to get along with. I went to get him before the restaurant service started, but he wasn’t there,” you start, thumbs smoothing over your gloves.

Donghyuck hums, before standing up. You watch him, as if scared that he’ll leave. “I’ll go to the other carriages to ask around. It isn’t very safe for you to wander around like this.”

He may be a gentleman, but Donghyuck’s not exactly sure how much he trusts the rest of the people on this train. There’s no denying that you’re pretty, even for a performer.

“There’s already tea coming up, so rest for a bit. If I don’t find anything within the hour, I’ll come back,” he tells you, and you nod without further resistance. “Thank you,” you mumble, and Donghyuck tries to make his smile as assuring as possible.

“No problem.”

The moment he steps into the next carriage, Donghyuck weaves through the milling passengers, ignoring the eyes that observe him curiously.

”Have you seen a young kid about this tall? In corduroy trousers.”

With each shake of the head that he receives, Donghyuck only moves even faster. Until he reaches the second-last carriage, muttering a soft prayer that he’ll finally get a clue.

When he reaches the middle, however, there’s a tug on his suit jacket, and Donghyuck looks down to see a young girl, hair neatly braided into symmetrical halves. He kneels down to match her height, shifting unsurely as she continues peering at him, eyes unreadable.

She’s definitely no older than eight, but her voice is level when she speaks.

“If you’re looking for a boy, I saw him there,” she whispers, and Donghyuck follows her pointed finger to a shut door.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully, before going over. The door is wrenched shut with a simple lock from the inside, and a realization dawns upon him as he steps out onto the platform. Donghyuck lets out a breath of relief when he sees Sungjin sitting at the very corner, the wind whipping aggressively at the both of them.

Sungjin is frozen to the bone, but whole and alive. The boy’s able to walk with the help of Donghyuck, back to the first-class cabin, albeit shivering terribly. In between the non-stop chattering of his teeth, Donghyuck’s able to piece together bits and pieces of information.

It’s a while later when you’re able to tuck Sungjin into bed, a plaintive expression on your face as you fold the blanket over him. Donghyuck leans against the wall, watching the entire affair absentmindedly until you gesture for him to follow you to the sitting room.

“He said the children shut him outside because they thought he was being uppity,” Donghyuck explains, watching as you take in the information and nod. “Aren’t you angry?” He asks, feeling the ugly hints of indignation rise in him at your surprisingly blank expression.

“Children can be mean when they don’t want to. I don’t think they thought that he would be stuck outside in the cold for hours. I’m just glad he’s safe,” you admit softly, and the anger in Donghyuck abates a little.

However, your gaze still remains dim, and Donghyuck can tell there’s something on your mind. “You can talk about it, if you want. It’s been a long day,” he assures, and watches as you turn towards him hesitantly.

“I just- sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough as his sister. It’s already bad enough that Sungjin doesn’t get to grow up with parents, and then this happens too- I’m not sure what I can do to fix it,” you breathe out, the deep-set furrow in your eyes making you look older beyond your years.

Compared to Donghyuck, you’ve lived many more lives, evident from the weariness that resides in your gaze. When measured up against your worries, the things that keep him up at night seem painfully minuscule.

It’s also what convinces him to take your hands in his, watching as you glance up in mild surprise.

“You care for Sungjin. Anyone can see that. And trust me when I say most of the women- even most of the men I know couldn’t raise a child while earning enough to support themselves.” You let out a chuckle at that, and Donghyuck grins slightly.

“You’re doing your best, and sometimes it won’t feel like it’s enough, but-” Donghyuck’s voice turns lower now, more insistent. “- it’s more than enough. You just have to carry on,” he finishes, and you don’t pull your fingers away from his, instead leaning back to stare up at the mosaics on the ceiling.

Eventually, you turn to him, eyes glittering in the candlelight. “Thank you, Donghyuck. I needed that more than I thought I did.”

A certain naked vulnerability resides on your face as you say it, and Donghyuck finds it strange, the way he’s finding comfort in this situation as well. There’s not one friendly face on this train, and he supposes the both of you might be confidants in a way that two people who don’t belong in a place gravitate towards each other.

When Donghyuck wakes up, he’s starving.

The midday sun filters in through the one window in his bedroom, and he realises he’s slept in surprisingly late as he tugs on his jacket and goes down the corridor. The dining saloon is crowded at this time, most passengers still in the middle of their meals. He narrowly avoids bumping into a waiter juggling carafes of fresh juice, heading towards the queue.

Until he sidles up next to your familiar figure, nodding in greeting. “Good morning,” you say. Sungjin hides behind your dress, leaning out to take a peek at Donghyuck, and you nudge your brother to follow.

“How long have you been here?” Donghyuck asks, and you lift your shoulders in an effort to show nonchalance. “About an hour and a half,” you explain, causing him to frown. “And you’re still waiting?”

“Donghyuck, if one of your customers is a dancer with her younger brother who’s been waiting for an hour, and the other is a duke and his wife who came minutes ago, who would you give the table to?”

“You,” he replies without a second thought, and your face turns towards him, bemused. “That’s the wrong answer, unfortunately.”

He’s never had to face the problem of openly being ignored, but Donghyuck’s not stupid. The upper classes can be brutal in their treatment, and it’s something you have to endure, even if you paid the same price for the ticket that every other person did.

Until a mischievous smile appears on his face, and Donghyuck loops his arm through yours, dragging you to another queue. You look up at him, confused, but you still follow.

“Table for three, please,” he instructs, and the waiter nods, allowing the both of you to enter another section with Sungjin.

It’s only once you settle into the booth that you lean over. “Donghyuck, this is the queue for families,” you mutter, and he grins.

“Well, then we’ll just have to pretend, won’t we?”

There’s doubt on your face, but the moment you notice Sungjin eagerly flipping through the menu, you relent. Donghyuck watches, satisfied, as you tuck into the sweet rolls and bacon placed on the table. “Coffee?” he asks, and you shake your head. Your brother, however, gladly extends out his cup, and Donghyuck lets out a laugh of incredulity.

“How old are you?”

Sungjin smiles at him with his teeth. “Twelve.”

“He’s just using it as an excuse to take the sugar cubes,” you explain, but let Donghyuck give him the coffee anyways.

“Don’t drink too much, or you’ll get hyper,” you chide, and Sungjin nods, taking tentative sips.

It reminds Donghyuck of his family, the way the both of you interact.

Sungjin’s lucky to have you. Maybe if Donghyuck had an older sister, or brother even, to watch over him as carefully as you did Sungjin, he might have turned out differently.

You notice Donghyuck getting lost in thought, and use the sharing cutlery to place some food on his plate. “You should eat,” you say, smiling softly at him. He watches you go through the motions with the measured familiarity of someone used to watching out for others, not quite able to form words.

There’s a warmth that grips his heart as he looks down at the food on his plate, a feeling so unfamiliar that it knocks the breath out of his chest. Donghyuck knows that the three of you are simply sharing a booth, but something about it feels like you and Sungjin are letting him be part of your world, for just a little bit.

The coffee is bitter and the bun is cold by the time he takes a bite, but it might be one of the best meals he’s ever had.

“Oh. Regarding your investigation,” you sit up, as if suddenly recalling something. “I found something that might be of use.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a jewellery auction that happens in Milan once every five years. I bet you half of the people on this train are going there. Your culprit included,” you say, lowering your voice when a waiter strolls by.

“Seems kind of strange for someone to auction a stolen necklace, don’t you think? It’d be a call for getting arrested.”

“There’s a catch, Donghyuck. The people who provide the jewellery are allowed to remain anonymous, and so are the buyers. Most of the items auctioned aren’t exactly gained through legal means,” you continue, and your words sound plausible except for one part.

“How do you know about this?” He questions, gaze fixed on you. Your composure remains, however, as you take another sip of your tea. “The same client I told you about the first time I met you. They’re well-connected, to say the least.”

There’s an ugly feeling that rises in Donghyuck’s chest at the mention of your mystery patron, but he tamps it down. You’re helping him. Does it really matter to him what kind of people you’re entangled with?

He hates the answer that waits for him.

Still, Donghyuck knows that you have plenty of your own secrets, things that you’re definitely not going to share with a detective that you’ve known for less than a month. Even if he did save your brother, and the both of you have established a tentative sort of friendship over the few times that you sit in the reading room with him when sleep is difficult to find.

“The train stops at Milan in two days,” he muses, and you nod, before sliding over an embossed letter. “Here’s one invitation. It’s supposed to be for me, but you can have it,” you tell him, and Donghyuck inspects the velvety paper, before pocketing it.

“Thank you,”  he murmurs, and the corners of your mouth slant up slightly.

“Consider us even. For finding Sungjin.”

The weather’s gotten colder, and it becomes all the more obvious the moment Donghyuck steps into the station, traveling luggage in hand. He tries to bite back a shiver - at least it’s warmer than the bitter winters of Paris.

Donghyuck thinks he might like to move to a place where the sun always shines, where he can always feel the warmth on his back. He’s heard of places like that, even if they’re only in blurry pictures and vague news articles.

You’re standing next to him in an elegant woolen coat, the collar tugged high under your chin. It’s the first time Donghyuck’s seen you with your hair down since you barged into his cabin in the middle of the night, and he thinks you should leave it down more often. There’s a different kind of beauty to you, standing with your curls scattered haphazardly and your cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Well, I suppose this is it,” you say, and Donghyuck hopes that the sombreness of your voice is because you’re sad to see him go. Before he can tug off his glove to shake your hand, you pull him into a hug.

”Thank you for everything, Donghyuck. You’re a good friend.”

It’s wildly inappropriate, and likely enough to give any governess in the vicinity a heart attack, but Donghyuck could care less as he holds you close. Besides, he’s been quick to learn that you’re full of surprises.

Bizarre as it is, he’ll miss having a person who’s as full of life as he is. You’re like a spark that can’t be extinguished, eyes sparkling as you pull back to look at Donghyuck.

“If you become famous in Venice, I’ll tell people you’re an acquaintance of mine,” he says, causing you to let out a laugh. The sound is sharp but genuine as it settles into him. Until the train horn blares, and you turn towards it instinctively, expression clouding over with resignation.

“Until we meet again, then,” you promise, a gentle smile on your face.

Donghyuck remains silent. He’s not quite sure what he wants to say in this moment, but he lifts up his hand, waving, the moment you get on.

And then there’s a mighty, loud noise as the train pulls out of the station, coal billowing into the air. His eyes remain fixed on your figure until he’s left staring at empty train tracks and an endless expanse of bone-white snow. Even then, it takes a while for Donghyuck to get himself to turn around, and head in the direction of the city.

He wonders when he’ll see you again. If he does.

You’re breathless when you leave the stage, transitioning from a roaring audience to the chaos of the dressing room in full swing. The mirror greets you cheerily with the sight of yourself, dressed in a floor-length cocktail gown and silver eyeshadow.

However, it doesn’t point out the bags that reside under your eyes, or the dull ache from your heeled shoes. You’re quick to pull out the pins in your hair, sighing softly when the tightness on your head eases.

Despite the fatigue, however, you’re still mostly happy with the life you’re leading. Your home is a lovely apartment overlooking the river, Sungjin’s enrolled in a good academy, and you get to perform to a full house every week.

You’re not wealthy, but there’s sufficient to keep you and Sungjin afloat, and occasionally go for dinner at the trattoria a few streets away.

“There’s our star dancer.” Miya appears in the corner of your vision, smile stretching wide across her face. She’s been the manager of the cabaret for the past year that you’ve worked, and the only reason why you’re willing to stay. Miya takes care of the girls under her, much better than many of the others in the city.

“Today’s crowd felt different. The energy…it was thrilling,” you confess, watching as she nods in agreement. Perhaps it’s the excitement that comes with the last few months dawning upon the city.

“It’s been a good year for all of us. You should take a break from the cabaret. Bring Sungjin somewhere, maybe,” Miya suggests and you hum in appreciation at the thought of finally being able to rest.

“I’ll see what I can do. For now, though, I think it’s time for me to head home,” you reply, packing up what little belongings you have. She waves you off without a second thought, and you quickly find yourself on the smooth cobblestone pavements outside the hotel.

It’s on nights like these that you feel grateful for living in the central part of the city, where your apartment is only across the town square. Your eyes drift across each of the couples and families strolling, all out to enjoy the night air.

You think of Donghyuck, and wonder how he’s doing. If he’s back in Paris, or perhaps journeying around the rest of the world freely, the way only someone unbound can do.

“Y/N.”

You’re not even sure if you can recognise the sound of his voice accurately now. Until you jolt to a halt, shoes scrabbling against the stone. That voice sounded strangely real, and not something that you concocted with your overactive imagination.

Your heart floods with a mixture of hope and disbelief as you turn around slowly, too scared to see what’s behind you.

Donghyuck looks like a dream.

His hair is shorter now, the stiff vests and dress shirts exchanged for a looser blouse that reveals a hint of his collarbones. But the sun-kissed freckles that dot his cheeks, the gentle slope of his nose, his honeyed eyes - they’re exactly the same as you remember.

You’re experiencing a deluge of emotions as you blink hastily, not entirely believing that he isn’t a hallucination you’ve dreamed up. Maybe you’re too exhausted, maybe the stage lights were too bright-

“I watched your show, even though there wasn’t a table saved for me.”

The lump in your throat disappears immediately once you realise that Donghyuck is real and solid in front of you. He barely stumbles from the impact when you throw your arms around him, relishing in his warmth.

“I can’t believe you’re here. There were news articles about you solving each case. I read each of them, but last I heard you were in London,” you rush out, watching as his expression morphs from fondness to amusement.

“It’s nice to know that you’ve been thinking of me. But I suppose I have to thank you for being easy to find, considering your face is plastered on posters everywhere,” he replies, and you feel embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

“A lot has happened since the last time I saw you.” Donghyuck nods in agreement at your words, before offering his arm to you.

“Well, it’s good that we have plenty of time, then.”

You’re not sure if this is an irrational decision. In fact, it might be one of the worst you’ve made.

And yet, you can’t stop as Donghyuck backs you up against the wall, kissing you until you’re dizzy. The empty bottle of wine sits on the table, and your lipstick’s still smudged on the rim, though more of it resides on Donghyuck’s mouth now, on his lips that feel like heaven against yours.

A month was definitely not enough for you to address the heady attraction that drew you to Donghyuck, to the sharply-dressed detective that made a space for himself in your heart and refused to leave.

And now that he’s in front of you, hands grabbing onto your waist, you never want this moment to end. The fact that Donghyuck wants you as much as you do him leaves you dazed, even as you lean back, his breath fluttering over your face.

There’s a cocky grin on his face now as he looks at you, and you’re quite sure you can hear your pulse thundering in your ears. He looks at you with so much passion, and you wonder if there’s as much pent-up emotion residing in his body as there is yours.

“I missed you,” Donghyuck confesses, and the space he takes up grows infinitesimally bigger. You missed him too. More than you wanted to admit.

Thirty days may not be enough to fall in love with someone, but a year most definitely is. You fell in love with the memory of Donghyuck, of laughing at his stories over breakfast and watching Sungjin treat him like the older brother he never had.

But Donghyuck no longer needs to be a memory, not when you have your hands tangled in his hair and his face inches away from yours. You swallow nervously now, even though you know you’re safe as ever.

“My contract ends in a month,” you start, and Donghyuck waits patiently for you to continue, causing the corners of your mouth to lift. “And after that, I’ll be free. To go wherever,” you mutter, and there’s a certain wistfulness that enters his gaze.

It feels like an eternity before Donghyuck intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb smoothing over your skin. He places a gentle kiss on your hand, before looking at you, eyes hooded.

“Then come with me,” he urges.

You’re teetering on the edge of something that feels beautiful and impossible, a future so bright that it isn’t something you dare to dream of. The adoring crowds, the glare of the spotlight - they fade to nothing when Donghyuck looks at you.

Joy shines plainly on your face when you nod in promise, winding your arms around Donghyuck’s neck and bringing him close.

[dreamerdeity]

𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀'𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐏𝐒

a/n: Really happy to be back on tumblr! College apps have been kicking my ass but it's getting better. Don't be shy to request a matchup, a fic, or a wip for Gaza! I'm also very sorry @tinysoulmentality for not including moodboards I had no time 😭

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ word count: 2k

Keira's Fundraising Event

███▒▒▒▒▒▒ 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . @tinysoulmentality 's character matchup

Hi! Id like to request a matchup for jjk, bllk and aot. Im mexican and being connected to my culture is very important to me. I love reading dc comics and watching old slasher/horror movies. My favorite color is purple and my favorite holiday/time of year of Halloween. When it comes to relationships, the most important thing to me is being with someone that I know i can be myself with and that I dont have to worry about their loyalty towards me. Here are my donations and pls lmk if theres any other info you need !!!💜💜

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇: 𝐈𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐌𝐀

Ino is an interesting little guy. He’s cute, but to say he has game would be like saying that cats can fly (handsome loser :3). When he first met you, he had to do a little double take because hold on a minute. Who’s that pretty lady? He casually walks up to you and blurts out a “You’re not from around here, are you?” ft. nervous voice crack that he manages to play off somehow. The question definitely elicits a few mental eye rolls from you. Typical male-tries-to-hit-on-foreign-girl one-liner, but he makes it… work? Maybe it’s the nervous flush on his cheeks, or the hand that sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck, or the bright smile he musters up to mask the nerves. 

I like to think that Ino is a very cosmopolitan person. It’s not really that he’s traveled all around the world, but more so that he has varied likes and interests spanning many different cultures. He likes to listen to old-school hip-hop and reggaeton. He’s into Italian and Turkish dramas. He sleeps well at night knowing there’s an Indian restaurant and another Mexican one down the block that can curb his cravings for butter chicken and quesadillas. 

So, it’s no surprise that he’s quick to grab a throw pillow and get comfortable on the couch whenever you talk about your Mexican heritage. He doesn’t know much about Mexico apart from the fact that the food goes extremely hard, so he’s always enthusiastic to learn more about the other aspects that characterize your country and its people. 

He also tries to learn some Spanish to “surprise” you but then it’s literally just a “¡Buenos días!” enunciated really badly. There’s a proud smile on his face every time he greets you good morning in your mother tongue though, and it’s very endearing, to say the least. 

To add onto his culture vulture, cosmopolitan vibes, I think he’s also really into movies. The type to just drop a niche movie reference every two seconds and frown deeply when no one gets it. 

Watching horror movies with him is interesting because for some reason he thinks that abruptly grabbing your shoulders mid-movie and growling menacingly would jump-scare you into oblivion, but you’re used to the genre so all it does is make you eye him narrowingly, unimpressed, ready to tell him off for interrupting a very crucial plot development. 

For whatever reason, Ino gives me major horror-enjoyer vibes. He likes analog horror and you’re lucky Halloween is your favorite time of year because it’s his too! Watching The Prowler (i just really like this movie lol) under the blankets with warm, freshly-made popcorn and a pretty lady in his arms? Yeah, count him in. 

One last thing, sorry to be the one to say this, but Ino is definitely the “can you draw me” person whenever he sees your sketchbook or art in general. It’s all in good nature, and he wouldn’t mind it if you say no, but if you do draw or paint him, let’s just say that that drawing will be in his wallet for the rest of his life. Sometimes he’d just randomly pull it out when someone brings you up and proudly hold it up to his company like “Uhuh, my girl drew this. Yup.” 

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇: 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐀

I think that, unlike Ino, Chigiri used to be less “out there” in the world in his youth and kept more to himself in terms of being an experiencer of cultural diffusion; It was how he was brought up. But after going pro and meeting many people, traveling to many different places etc, he’s been exposed to the world on a greater scale. That’s how he finds himself meeting you one day at a party. He was charming. Need I say more tbh? That hair, that gentlemanliness, that whole aura surrounding him is hard to resist. He knew just how to sweet-talk but actually meant every word he said. 

Chigiri is one wealthy man, let’s be honest. Pro footballer?  Mbappe in another font? Yeah. I think he genuinely enjoys spoiling and lavishing you with gifts if that’s your thing. 

He loves hearing you talk about your heritage and if you don’t live in Mexico, I feel like if you were to even remotely express that you’re kind of missing your country he’d immediately be like, “Then let’s book a 2 week stay and you can show me all those things you were telling me about.” No biggie. 

Would also rent out the entirety of Playa Sisal in advance because you mentioned (once. 1 [one] time. ) that you were looking forward to taking a dip come the vacation. 

I think that there’s this stigma surrounding footballers and how they’re a bunch of players who sleep around but don’t commit. While that may have some merit, Chigiri is different. Like, have you seen him? Not to mention that he has a sister. 

I feel like he values loyalty and genuine companionship as much as you do, and should you ever feel yourself questioning where you stand within his life, or whether he’s trustworthy, he would be so quick to reassure you and make you feel heard, basically quelling the doubts before they even surface. (Communicative king). 

On the note of communicative king, he’s very good at praise and voicing his appreciation. The sort to genuinely encourage your creative hobbies and praise you for any work you create. He would literally not mind building a home art studio for you to promote your love for art and writing. Like, “Oh, I saw you painting the other day and you didn’t look very comfortable at your desk. Thought I’d make you a little art corner,” he’d say as he sheepishly shows you the “art corner” in question which looks more like a state of the art professional studio. 

I think Chigiri himself is a very artistic person beneath the surface. He just gives off that vibe quite a bit. Picnics where you guys sit at the park and paint the scenery together? So him. 

Would post your art on social media (if you consent ofc!) to his 5 million+ followers and bring you business if you ever decide to open commissions. 

In terms of entertainment, Chigiri is the type to be so clueless when it comes to media because he just doesn’t have the time. Like you were shocked when he told you he never watched Star Wars. Sir, what do you mean?? 

It became your job to educate him on the vast world of entertainment, namely movies. He doesn’t really care what you pick as long as you’re happy. So when he’s got some free time on his hands, he’ll binge horror or DC/Marvel movies with you and even try to analyze the plot as it’s happening (don’t kill him please he’s just trying to show he’s interested). 

Would buy you merch of your favorite movies and get giddy when you wear it/decorate your room with it etc.

Lastly, I think Chigiri would sulk in the corner if you insist he let you dye his hair purple since it’s your favorite color, but he literally can’t say no to you, so eventually he yields reluctantly but shockingly, once all is said and done, he figures out he actually really like how purple looks on him. 

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇: 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

I’m gunna be honest. I think it just makes sense for Levi to like you because black cat x orange cat trope?? Him and Hange? Him and the Eren gang in general? Yeah. 

Going by your mbti, I imagine you’re not very extroverted, and I think that’s something that genuinely makes Levi let out a sigh of relief sometimes. 

*glance at each other* You: “wanna leave this party?” Him: “You read my mind.”

If loyalty were a person, it would be this man. He shows it in the small things, I’d say: Leaving you short messages before he leaves for work every morning, bringing you things that remind him of you, etc. I feel like that would be his way of saying “I’ve got eyes for you only/I’m always thinking about you and you alone”. 

Levi is such a meanie on the surface and I find it kind of hilarious. Like, I think you guys would complete each other's snark and sarcasm and people would not know whether you two are joking or not meanwhile yall are just trying to bite back giggles. 

If I’m being honest, Levi doesn’t strike me as a very creative person. He seems more of a STEM sort of guy if we think of him in a modern au, so he doesn’t pay much mind to the arts as a field. 

That’s not to say he isn’t supportive of your creative endeavors of course. You know when parents have no idea how a sport you play works but they still passionately cheer at your games regardless? Yeah, that’s Levi with your art, writing, etc. It’s all impressive to him even if you don’t think so and he’ll make sure you know that. 

“I love this poem you wrote. You could be famous if you took this up professionally,” he’d say even if there was like a single sentence on the page. 

Would be the type to send you anything art or writing related he gets on his fyp like “yup, she’s definitely gonna love this/find it helpful”. 

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I think Levi is actually a film buff. There, I said it. Something about him strikes me as movie lover. He would be the type to drop a quote from some obscure movie from the 50s with a straight face in the most serious tone ever which makes it even funnier. 

So, when you two have some free time, he loves to watch things with you while cuddling on the couch. he’s the type to read the captions before the characters actually say them and it just spoils the scene for him, and then he’d sulk as if it’s your fault, but it’s cute. 

When you two are watching horror movies, he’s the type to tsk and mutter under his breath complaining about the costumes or about how if he were there he would’ve totally killed that demon in like two seconds.

[zepskies]

PSA on Tumblr Tags: Tag Lists & # Tags

Just wanted to spread this news for people who don't know the new Tumblr updates that have to do with tagging on posts, both for user tag lists and for descriptive hashtags to help people find your post. I've had to learn them the hard way. 😅

User Tagging:

This first part is for people who have tag lists. Tumblr has recently changed the rules on tagging other blogs/users on a post.

You can still tag up to 50 blogs per post, but they must be spread out into groups of 5. Otherwise, the blog won't be highlighted/tagged and the person will not be notified.

Example (and more) below the cut: ⤵️

✅ Example:

And this is what it will probably look like if you don't spread them out into groups of 5:

Notice that only the first 5 blogs in each section are actually tagged.

Also something important to note: copy/pasting a tag list alone often isn't enough. After I copy over a tag list from another post, I always have to click on each blog name individually to select the blog and make sure it's tagged properly, so people get notified.

Trust me, I get why some writers have decided to ditch tag lists altogether. They can be tricky. 😂

Hashtags on Posts:

As most of you guys know, hashtags help people find your post. The limit of how many tags you can use has bumped up to 30 tags.

Now, this doesn't mean you have to use all 30 slots. But using the most popular tags will increase the likelihood that people will find your post.

By no means am I an expert on this, but I've been reading a lot of stories that should have SO many more reblogs, comments, etc. If some of them were using a few more key tags, they'd likely be getting much more traffic and notes on them.

Want to find out which hashtags are the most popular, relevant to your post?

Well, you can actually search them in the Your Tags tab, Tags You Follow, and go to Manage:

For Dean Winchester fanfiction, for example, here are the tags I use most often:

Ignore the first and last tags, which are just for me to organize the post for my blog. But I would say the most important tags here are the first few:

[character's full name]

[character's full name] x reader or [character's full name] x oc

fandom name

These three are absolutely key for any romance pairing fanfiction post, in my opinion.

Aside from being the most relevant for a pairing fanfic, these are often the most popular tags overall, as they are the tags with a high follower count. The rest can also be important supplemental hashtags relevant to the post.

You can also just start typing into this bar in your post draft and see what "popular tag" recommendations Tumblr gives you:

And that's it! For anyone who finds this PSA helpful, I salute you! 🫡 And I wish you all luck on future tagging endeavors. 💜

I'm also including some of my fellow writers just in case they have something to add to this — or if they don't know this info, though I'm sure they probably do already:

@luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @rizlowwritessortof @artyandink @waynes-multiverse

@jacklesbrainworms @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @waywardxwords

@angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @kayleighwinchester