#i wish i knew who i was i wish i knew who i was going to be who i would havr been before everythong went to shit

[koeniginderskizzen]

I forgot if I ever reblogged this or not but I'm reblogging it now as an excuse to talk about how much I need this to happen in someway in Chapter 3 or 4. It's basically my biggest wish for the upcoming chapters.

I'm in the camp of "Ralsei isn't Evil, he's just weird like that/ thinks it's all for the greater good if anything".

To recab a little, Ralsei has been alone his entire life as far as we know, so he isn't that well adjusted on how to act in social situations. His go to method of comforting is distracting from the bad stuff, or not mentioning bad stuff at all, which could very likely be because he doesn't really know how to handle it and just thinks "positivity=good, so better avoid negativity because that would cause distress, which is bad"

We also know that the legend, and the supposed purpose of darkners was kinda his life guideline, so to say. Ralsei thinks that his purpose is the legend and to serve the lightners, and he doesn't want to go against it. Be it because of Roaring, some other hidden thing/ plan we don't know of yet, or because he never knew anything else. What's important is: in Chapter 2 Susie began to challenge that mindest a little.

In the SweetCap'nCakes battle, Ralsei firstly insists that Kris, or us, is the only one who is allowed to act, maybe because it gives us a unique, irreplacable role, which could make us happy, but Susie forces him to learn R-Action anyway. When alone with us, Ralsei says that he learned from Susie that being yourself can be enough to be a friend but then adds that he doesn't actually know who he is as a person.

Which is why Kris being revealed to Ralsei as the person who made the fountain would be such a huge next step!

Now Ralsei actually is confronted with a situation where one of the people he trusted, and especially someone he is supposed to serve and be kind to no matter what, goes directly against his wishes. What is he supposed to do now? He could just put his feelings under a rug, and I Imagine he might even do that at first, but the important thing is that he has to deal with that conflict of being angry at Kris, but also having to stay supportive, which could even culminate in him expressing that disappointment, and defining himself as his own person who's feelings matter, and who isn't just a servant, even more.

I really need this for him.

I Imagine the legend and the roaring is in some way linked to the player, and if Ralsei learns to become his own person throughout the game, that could even lead to him potentially choosing to abandon the legend for the sake of his friends.

Or he won't, the important thing to me is, that the choice will be his own (because I love Ralsei as a character)

chapter 3 probably

[ditzydoe444]

thinking about mean jason who has a love-hate relationship with reader nd fucks her dumb on his fat cock after a nightly patrol — getting all his frustrations out���😻 .

god i need him.

MDNI 18+

mean jason! x reader

jason todd smut

you and jason weren’t officially together but were also hooking up. despite that, it was a love-hate relationship, jason said that you were too demanding at times, and clingy, whilst you told jason he was the opposite. he was too cold and not emotionally available when you wanted him to be.

it was well past the middle of the night, where jason had just returned back from his nightly patrol due to the slam of the front door. “look who decided to finally come back,” you retorted, crossing your arms across your chest. you knew jason’s schedule all too well, and you also knew that due to the rocky relationship the two of you were in, it also meant that he would stay out longer in patrol just to stay away from you.

“save your commentaries for tomorrow morning, i’m not in the mood right now.” he grumbled. of course he wasn’t. he was never in the mood to discuss the weird relationship that you two had. “i just think it’s unfair that you go and disappear in the middle of the night when your patrol is over”, he immediately cut you off by standing right in front of you. his tall frame towered over yours.

“you better shut that pretty little mouth of yours, or i’ll do it myself,” he narrowed his eyes. you always had an issue of being a bit of a brat, and jason never tolerated it. stubbornly, you tilted your chin up, refusing to back down. “i think the issue is that you can’t handle my attitude,” you raised a brow.

jason let out a low chuckle, “trust me sweetheart, i can very very well handle your attitude.” he stepped closer, caging you in like a predator. “so you better shut that pretty mouth of yours before i fuck it myself, stuffing it full will keep your mind occupied from being a brat.”

**

and god did he keep you occupied. you were currently sprawled out on the couch, your legs on top of his shoulders whilst his fat cock bullied your cunt. “the only way to keep your mouth shut is to fuck this pretty little hole huh?” he grunted, his thrusts never faltering one bit. “such a fucking slut.”

your mind had gone blank, jason had always fucked you dumb. he always fucked both your mouth, cunt and ass, making sure they were filled with his cum. essentially he would just cum all over you. “all you do is whine and get fucked like a whore,” he groaned, his large hands gripping your waist tightly. “whilst i do all the hard work, going on patrol, working and earning money for you.”

one of his hands went up, towards your neck gently squeezing the sides. “all you do is just sit back, relax and get fucked like a slut, seems quite unfair don’t ya think darlin?” jason looked at you expectantly, but you couldn’t even think properly, giving occasional whines and moans. you were fucked dumb.

“what was that? no more smart retorts from you huh?” he grinned, his thrusts were now deeper, moving the couch across the side of the living room. you were nothing but a whimpering mess, your whole clenching on him like a lifeline. you were at his mercy, his use to use and fuck as he wishes.

your mind was blank, all you could even think about was how much you loved this. how much you loved him, and his fat dick. “come on sweetheart, i’m sure you can think of something to say. you were talking so much before,” he teased. though you really couldn’t think, “i l-love this,” you whined, you loved every part of this. his cock bullying your tight cunt, and god how you looked forward to him fucking your mouth and ass.

he grinned. “i love this too, having you all to myself, mine to love, mine to fuck.”

you were close, so fucking close.

“j-jay,” you whined, gripping his bicep for dear life. you were so close, and you knew it wouldn’t be your last orgasm. jason always fucked you until you were completely limp, giving you at least a few more orgasms. two were child’s play for him.

the moment he pinched your clit, you came and came hard. you squirted. covering his cock in your slick, where some even went to his pubes. “there you go,” he grinned, “coming on my cock like a pretty little princess,” he cooed. “now, you better hold on sweetheart, because i don’t plan on stopping.”

[cybrasigilism]

I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!

IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)

warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

• ─────────────── •

toleration.

that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.

sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.

secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.

and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.

that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.

unless..?

“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.

“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”

just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?

———

it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?

you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.

after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.

his voice. his voice?

something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.

“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.

“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had tome to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-

“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up at down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “seeing as you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.

“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“

“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.

“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.

“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“

“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.

with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your breathing both steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.

“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..

you definitely tolerated player 124.

• ─────────────── •

thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!

have a great day/night 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[krys4h]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ◞﹒୧ .

✧ ⁝  𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 ◞ ྀི

— kaiser has a nightmare about his past and the urge to hurt himself, and you're here for him and help him soothe himself. slight angst, slight fluff, smut, vaginal sex, riding, tw : mutilation/cutting/self-harm, choking.

You were woken up by a punch in your back. Rubbing your eyes, getting used to the darkness of the room, you turned around to face your boyfriend Kaiser, who was all trembling and sweaty in his sleep. The poor man was shaking and mumbling incomprehensible things in his sleep as he struggled.

Another nightmare.

“Micha?” you whispered. Your voice was soft, careful, because when Kaiser had his nightmares, he always reacted violently, like the blow he had just given you. You moved closer to him and hugged him. His sweaty body pressed against you, and he struggled against you.

“It’s okay, everything is okay, love.”

Kaiser needed someone to absorb all the darkness of his mind, and you were there. The wounds of his past were still open, and they came to spoil his present with horrible nightmares of being beaten by his father. He claimed he didn't need anyone's help, but you, his girlfriend, knew better than anyone that he couldn't do it alone, and that he needed your love.

That’s why you hold him tight against you, whispering reassuring things in his ear. His struggling body quickly became calmer, your voice soothing him, and he let out a soft sigh as he let his head in the crook of your neck.

Kaiser’s eyes opened, and squinted in the darkness. He was instantly overwhelmed by your body against him, you breath in his hair. And that was what he needed to be brought back to reality and to be torn away from the monsters of his past. Panting in your neck, he inhaled deeply, reassured by your scent.

“’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice was low, vulnerable.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.” You hold him tighter in your arms.

“What happened in your dream?” you stroked his back, his shirt wet with sweat. “Only if you want to talk about it, of course.”

He tensed in your arms, and closed his eyes.

“I just relived a scene with my father,” he began, his voice weak as he recalled the memory of the dream. “He was hitting me with his belt. You don’t wanna know more details of this.”

Your heart ached for this man who deserved only love and yet received everything but that. Your heart ached for the little boy he was, in need of love but beaten by the one who was supposed to protect him. Your heart ached for your boyfriend, a person worthy of love, who deserved all the happiness in the world but was invaded by demons at night.

You wished you could heal him from his pain. You wanted to absorb all his suffering and traumas, and finally let him live the happy life he deserved. And it pained you to know that nobody could save somebody that didn’t want to be saved. Kaiser will have to take responsibility to working on himself to free himself from his demons, and will have to learn to heal on his own. But if your love could soothe him just a little, you were willing to give him your whole heart to help him.

Just like all the other times Kaiser had his nightmares, he had the sudden urge to hurt himself. It was like an automatic reaction. His hand came to his throat and he was about to squeeze it before you shooed his hand away.

“Micha.”

“I need this,” his gruff, pained voice made you tense.

“I can’t watch you hurt yourself.”

“Don’t watch me, then.” he mumbled, his tone harsh.

He pushed you and you were hurt by his reject. He got up from the bed, and walked towards the bathroom. Your heart raced, knowing what he was going to do.

“Micha, wait…”

You followed him, but he closed the door and locked it. You knocked on the door, worried about him.

“Michael, please,” you knew he was probably mutilating himself on the other side of the door, and it pained you. Your eyes stung as you banged on the door.

You stood there banging on the wall and begging him to open the door for a good five minutes before he opened the door. He looked at you with shifty eyes as if he was ashamed of you seeing him like this. Your eyes lingered on his arms where there were deep cuts in thin lines. Your eyes watered, and an immense pain invaded your heart.

“Let me disinfect this, it's still bleeding,” you grabbed his arm and guided him into the bathroom.

You needed to be strong for him. If you were sad, nothing could compare to what he must be feeling. You disinfected his wounds, he didn't even flinch, used to you taking care of him every time he had his nightmares. His eyes lingered on your face, seeing you fighting tears.

Sometimes he wondered if he wasn't too much for you, and that you deserved someone better than him. Someone not fucked up in the head like him. Someone not broken like him. You told him every day that he wasn't a lost cause, that he wasn't broken and that he could still get through this, but Kaiser didn't see that. Kaiser had to wake up every morning and repeat affirmations to himself in order to live, if he didn't have soccer he would probably have committed suicide in prison.

He didn’t understand how someone so pure like you could still love him after seeing his dark side. He thought you would run away if he showed you the demons he had in his head. But no, you were still standing here, taking care of him. He thought he didn’t deserve that. He thought he didn’t deserve your love, your care. You were an angel in his hell, and even thought he was grateful to have met you, his heart ached every time he had to look into your teary eyes because of him.

“It’s not enough,” he whispered.

“What?”

“It’s not enough,” he looked at the ground, feeling ashamed to be so broken. “I need something more intense.”

“Micha…”

“You don’t understand,” he flinched, his head down. “I need this to keep me sane. I know it’s not healthy, but I need this.”

“How can I help you through this?” you knelt on the ground and put your head on his lap. “How can I help you stop this?”

He had an idea but he didn’t think you would love it. He raised his eyes to look at you, and his whole body relaxed when he saw the love in your eyes. You were so caring. So willing to help him.

“You promise to not cry?”

“I can’t promise you.”

────୨ৎ────

“I can’t do this,” you sobbed.

“Please, do it like you hated me. It feels so good when you press it like that.”

You were riding him, hands on his throat. His hands gripped your hips as he helped you move on top of him. His blonde hair were all over the pillows, and his eyes were feverish when he looked at you from where he was.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I thrive in pain, baby. You’re not hurting me, you’re helping me.”

He placed his hands on yours and put pressure on them, helping you choke him. You shook your head.

“Micha, it’s not healthy.”

“I’m not healthy, I’m broken. I thought you liked me for who I am?”

“Micha…”

“Let’s just say it’s my kink to be choked, okay? Forget all about my mutilation, and just help me, please.”

His tone was desperate, and he looked at you with pleading eyes. You sniffled, thinking quickly.

You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wanted to help him. And if helping him meant hurting him, you had to do it for him. It was better than mutilating himself.

“If I do this, you will feel better?”

He nodded.

“I love you,” you whispered and started to squeeze his throat with your hands. Your hands were trembling.

He closed his eyes, placed his hands on your hips. Your hips were rocking against him, and he let out a groan each time he bottomed out, his cock deep into your tight heat. Riding him, you had power over him, but your moves were slow.

“Why are you so shy?”

He made you move faster with his hands.

“Stop these lame ass moves, and ride me correctly. I asked you to fuck me like you hated me.”

He was so commanding and dominant. He slammed you down his cock with force, his hands gripping your hips.

“Squeeze harder,” he thrust into you with passion, “squeeze harder!”

You listened to him and did what he wanted even though you were anxious about hurting him. Your hands squeezed his throat and he slowly began to feel his breath catch in his chest, and it felt so fucking good. Sex and pain was his favorite combination.

Your bounced your ass up and down as you rode him with the pace he wanted you to, you were sweaty and panting. As you continued to choke him, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as if he was delighted, and you shivered at the thought.

Your man was completely crazy and you loved him for who he was. If needed this to be sane, you were willing to help him.

────୨ৎ────

His strokes were sloppy as he was lazily fucking you. On top of you, he was crashing you with his muscular body. Pressed against you, he was making love to you at a tender pace. It was so rare. Kaiser was rough and aggressive, never soft. But maybe after the intense sex you had, Kaiser needed something gentler.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and soft. He buried his head in your neck, and showered your neck with kisses.

You closed your eyes, your heart racing. He wasn't used to being like this. You held him tight against you, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“You feel better?” you whispered, stroking his back.

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

He continued to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you shivered.

“You know, I was thinking,” he stopped kissing you and his mouth hovered your skin, his breath brushing you. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re my soulmate.”

Your heart fluttered, and you smiled, holding him tighter.

“Why?”

His hips continued to move against yours, not slamming, but brushing your body in a gentle motion.

“You accept me completely for who I am without judging me. I feel like I can entrust you my soul.”

“This is really how you feel?”

“Yeah,” he raised his head and looked at you with tender eyes. “Every time I think I might be too much for you, you prove to me that you can handle all of me. You’re my match.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” your smile widened, your stomach warming up. “You’re everything to me. I want to be here for you in every steps of your healing.”

He straightened up to kneel on the bed, and continued to make love to you with slow thrusts. He pushed into you with an almost unbearable slowness, and pulled out even slower. He grabbed one of your calves around his hips to bring them to his mouth to press soft kisses on them.

“You’re my match,” he repeated as he pushed in and out of you, his eyes locked on you.

You closed your eyes, letting your lover make love you slowly. After the intense night you had, this is what you needed. This is the type of love Kaiser deserved. Slow sex in a dark room, with souls tied by feelings. Maybe love was what could heal him from his torments. You were willing to give him your heart to heal his wounds, to heal his trauma. As he said, you were his match. His partner. The one who will always be there for him even if he was feeling broken. The one who will love him unconditionally even on days when he didn't feel worthy of love.

You were his healer.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[thetadispatcher]

Dan glanced at Rook then back to Willow, he hadn't planned on acknowledging the comment, which was clearly the right choice based on Willow's reaction to it.

"Truly, I feel Peter's habit of personifying things is why the way I was treated wasn't questioned much." Anyone who knew Peter wouldn't feel inclined to question why an android was being treated like a human, seeing as Peter had a history of treating other non-human things in a similar manner that he occasionally expected those around him to do the same. Most were glad to see he was no longer talking to inanimate objects, and had moved on to something that could at least respond and looked human.

The PL600 knew better then to comment on the other android's reaction to the suggestion of calling Johan's android by an acronym, it would lead to the possibility of him being questioned on just what he'd learned. That was something he wanted to avoid, the other androids didn't need to know what had become of the world Peter's older counterpart had come from, and just what that version of Johan had done to it. It would likely lead to the issue with the unstable man worsening if the others knew just how far he could go if he was given any sort of power.

"I understand that well, sometimes I wish mine knew how to stay put. I'd take him to his room, but I know he'll just end up back down here quickly." Dan rolled his eyes, Peter's inability to stay put had yet to improve and his current state would definitely affect that. So carrying him was the best solution, Peter wouldn't be at risk of falling and hurting himself that way.

Dan carefully started taking the crates apart as Sixty and Daniel finished setting the computers up, gathering up the dismantled wooden sides in his hand. He handed it to Daniel, who nearly fell over from the weight, as he'd forgotten Dan made thing look much lighter then they actually where. Soon the two PL600s had the area cleaned up, allowing Brent an easier path in and out of the room to fetch parts as they were finished.

"Happiness now doesn't mean it has to last, that's what beauty comes from, dude." Dan turned his attention to Peter as the younger man started talking. "Flowers are beautiful because they wither, if they stayed like that forever they wouldn't be beautiful. That's the frag-frag-fragility-of the mortality of life is what makes things beautiful. You don't know shit." Dan chuckled a bit as he listened to Peter ramble.

"What are you talking about?" He asked as Peter turned his head to look at Vincent. "Oh, look, it's the purples." He promptly broke out into a fit of laughter. "You really are high out of your gourd, aren't you?" Dan shook his head as Peter kept giggling, clearly amused by his own comment. "Well, at least you're in a good mood."

If the bear was content with no treats, Rook was fine with simply shoving her face in her fur. "Would be funny if you could install a mini fridge."

"Please, ignore that." Willow cut in, "I must say that gesture was quite precious and it certainly justifies why that excuse would be so effective."

Or why nobody had bothered sending Peter to bed so far. They had provided instructions for the custom androids, the androids present could handle the task efficiently. Apparently, the resident human was simply too endearing to be dismissed.

While Dan seemed to find some use in Bishop's suggestion, the other was by far not a fan of the implications, or the tone of his organic counterpart. The lack of a LED didn't hinder his ability to show his distate for the suggested name. "That's merely an acronym."

Bishop simply raised an eyebrow "Does it really matter?"

The android glared at him.

"I understand the feeling." Willow replied, "My favorite human doesn't show the greatest self preservation instinct either. Training is a slow process."

[cherie-doll]

I have this brainrot for a while now

Which cod man would be the most husband material, who waits for the shortest amount of time before getting married? And who would be the one who would be fine with not getting married at all? And where are the rest of them?

How many kids would they want if they want?

I don’t need sleep, i need answers!😭

sorry for the delay my wifi is so slow, we just got a new batch of snow down here and tbh it might be affecting my internet

✧ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ᰍᩚ Price... he's PERFECT husband material. Cut from the finest cloth I'm SO normal about him. You've just observed his behavior closely and he doesn't do annoying things like leaving his clothes lying around on the floor or leaving unwashed dishes in the sink. He def want to get married, but doesn't wait too long nor asks you right away, he'd time it just right. As for kids? Maybe he could convince you to have one or two...

ᰍᩚ Ghost... he doesn't realize he can lowkey be a good husband. He thinks he's not willing to adapt to anyone, given how much stuff he's been through. A relationship isn't the worst thing he's had to go through, he's gone through worse, so why is he thinking about it so much? He doesn't want to enter a relationship with only half a heart, not mindlessly. But he knows his feelings towards you don't come from nothing. His feelings would have to be resolved before you even started dating, so that afterwards everything progresses pretty smoothly. And after marriage, kids? Maybe idk.

ᰍᩚ Soap... he probably had your entire life planned out before he confessed. He knew he loved you, was convinced he wanted to marry you and needed to have kids. So, he waited the least amount of time to marry you. There's lots of things he could improve on as a partner but the good thing is he's willing to make any and all of those changes for you. His respect will never run dry, he won't let desperation take ahold of him, always letting you know one way or another he still cares. It was up to you to decide how many kids you'd be okay with but if it were up to him... yk what better not go there.

ᰍᩚ Gaz... Perfect boyfriend AND husband material. He loves showing affection with the little things, a cup of coffee or tea and cuddling when you feel down or taking care of chores when you need a break. Simple things that he does on the daily that in the long run fortify your relationship. The amount of time he waits before asking you to marry him depends and it's all on how you want your relationship to progress. He's surefooted in his decisions so after the initial stages of the relationship when he's gotten to know you very well, your faults and what he loves about you, he just lets you know that if you want to take that step, he's more than ready to do so. He def wants kids, at least three.

ᰍᩚ Roach... oh my sweet boy ToT. He's such boyfriend material and in time will no doubt grow into a loving husband. He very deeply cares about your connection and how deep it runs between you both. The topic of marriage comes up at a very proper time in your relationship, it's when all he can think of is holding your hand every day, how comforting your presence is to him and how this couldn't ever revert into something casual. Marriage is a definite yes for him. Kids are something he wouldn't think of right away. Maybe a few years down the lane, and maybe one.

ᰍᩚ Alejandro... you made him wish impossible things. How you've made him feel, the sensations not only running smoothly over his skin but finding a way to penetrate deeply, to make him desire nothing else but a life with you. Marriage was the ideal way to continue living in that daydream. How he wishes the days were endless, so he can rejoice for eternity with you. If this was what made him wish to be better, then he was surely husband material. In time, he'd want to start a family with you, to create life, to have little ones to take care of. Three or four kids would occupy his days.

ᰍᩚ Rudy... is THE blueprint for all husbands out there to follow. He's very patient, his voice soothes you, could lull you to sleep. Always listens to you even if you rant, if you point out a flaw of his he works to be better. Never pushed you into doing anything, even when he could already hear the wedding bells ringing, he wanted you to make this decision on your own. In the back of his mind, he most likely already had baby names planned and asked if you wanted kids. He def did and wanted three. He thought it was the perfect number.

ᰍᩚ Phillip Graves... husband material at its FINEST. He's not only charming and a gentleman as a boyfriend but also as a husband. He just couldn't wait to put a ring on your finger so he did want marriage very soon. There is no way he'd NOT want children, he's just as much father material as he is husband material. I've said it before but he was made to father children and I will die on that hill. He loves going everywhere with his son, showing him how to run a company and then he gentles when his daughter is born, doing everything she wants.

ᰍᩚ Makarov... husband material at the core. Deep on the inside he can be genuine and want to care for someone. He likes having someone to depend on him, under his care, leaning on him for that strange affection that isn't found anywhere else. It would be hard to refuse him with the amount of gifts he sends to sweeten you up and coax you to accept his proposal that came too soon for your liking. But look at it this way, he'll always provide everything you'll ever need and want and in exchange you only have to agree to marry him, live with him and... kids. Yes, he wants kids. A numerous family preferably.

ᰍᩚ Keegan... is quite levelheaded when it comes to relationships so he's fine with staying your boyfriend and living with you or becoming your husband when you marry. He could improve on becoming peak husband material but you're lucky if he picks up his clothes from the floor and places it in the laundry basket instead. He thinks having no kids is better until you get a scare thinking you might be with child and he gets excited until you call false alarm. He felt disappointment and then realized he did want kids after all. Would be fine with just one but wouldn't completely be against having another one later on.

ᰍᩚ König... it's not him you have to worry about when it comes to marriage. He's got to watch out for himself because YOU'RE going to wife him up, otherwise he'd never get around to asking you to marry him. Not that he wouldn't want to but he's thinking when would be the perfect moment to ask and he's always thinking, "I'm going to ask them next date", and another date comes and goes by and then another and another... He'd learn to be so loving with kids you just gotta convince him he CAN be a good father. I don't know how many he could handle though.

ᰍᩚ Horangi... he's fun but he's prob best as a boyfriend. Not that he could never be a husband because he can, but he'd be completely fine with not marrying. If you're expecting him to bring up the question and get down on his knee for you... then you're probably setting yourself up for disappointment. It'd take him a while and you'd have to hint at wanting marriage, because otherwise he wouldn't mind just moving in together. I know I used to say he'd want marriage quickly but idk man my perception of him changed. He might get baby fever (rare) and he might ask for ONE kid them, but don't think he's the type for them much.

ᰍᩚ Nikto... if he does open up to wanting a relationship you've got to work with him on the long run. He might be closed off to certain things simply because he might not see a point in progressing in that field, but once he sees that you respect him and don't force anything, he'd def want to marry you. I'm not exactly sure how long he'd wait before proposing to you, honestly it all depends but once he grows attached to a person he wouldn't want to be apart from them so I'm guessing he'd tie the knot pretty soon. The topic of kids is something he's very hesitant of, he rarely gets baby fever, like ever. It'd have to be a lot of convincing on your part. But he might be okay with one or two at most.

[13uswntimagines]

All In My Head (Alessia Russo X Singer!r)

Part III of the Safe Harbor Universe. Find other parts here

Summary: Being Sick on tour sucks, but that doesn't mean that you want your team to inform your girlfriend. She has her own career to think about. The problem is that honesty is rule number 1 in your relationship.

Warnings: there is mention of a D/s dynamic, but nothing is super explicit. Alessia is referred to as daddy.

Authors note: Yes the ending is a cliffhanger. But this has honestly been in my drafts since like August, so i wanted to put it out. I'm considering a Pt. 2, but it will depend on if people want it. I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the stadium's cool stone wall and twisting the bracelet around your wrist. 

Which stadium, you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, really. They all looked the same after a while anyway, blurring together in the never-ending cycle of rehearsals, performances, interviews, and meet and greets. 

All your life seemed to be was performing and promoting music you weren’t even excited about anymore. It was a nonstop grind filled with late nights and early mornings, with almost no time for your well-being. 

You almost wished your girlfriend had implemented a rule that placed a limit on how much you could do. At least that would give you the power to say no. 

You did your best. 

You squeezed in as many phone calls with your girlfriend, Alessia as you could, but she had her own commitments with the Lionesses as they prepared to defend their European championship.

Most of the time you ended up passing out over FaceTime, and waking up to texts telling you she loved you. 

You understood. You both had careers and obligations. You both had to make sacrifices to get to do the things you loved. 

It was… intense, but for the most part, you enjoyed it. You loved playing for the fans. You would deal with all the promotional bs just so you could interact with the people who loved your music as much as possible. 

They deserved that. 

And this tour had been going far better than the ones you had been on before it. You were holding it all together far better than you had in the past. 

Or it had been. 

It all started with a slight tickle in your throat in the city before last. A whisper of huskiness that went away with a nice steam session and some tea. 

It was easy to ignore in the beginning. 

Then you played 4 shows back to back last weekend. 

By the end of the 3rd show, you knew you were screwed, you could barely muster a horse whisper. Alessia had commented that you sounded like a chain smoker, your first sign that she was seeing through you, but you assured her you would be fine. You even joked that you had enough throat coat and grether's pastilles to turn her off for a year. She let you soothe her worries. 

You pushed on, powered my menthol lozenges and Honey, and you made it through the 4th show. 

It would have been fine. It shouldn’t have mattered that your ability to make any sound at all was hanging on by a thread. The 5 days off you had should have been enough to set everything right.

Except you didn’t have 5 days off. 

It was filled with promotional performances for a new album and interviews about how well it would accompany the movie it was attached to. If someone else asked you about how it felt about the possibility of an Oscar nod, you were going to scream. Or rip all of your hair out or both.

The tickle had turned to hot nails, and nothing - not the steam machine or tea and honey - had the power to soothe it. 

You sounded like you were talking through gravel, and your team had been hesitant to even let you go on tonight. 

Alessia definitely would not have, if she knew how bad it really was. You started avoiding her two days ago after you couldn’t make it through a sentence without a crack, and you couldn’t continue to blame the low whistle that accompanied every one of your breaths on allergies. 

You knew going in that performing tonight wasn’t a great idea, but you refused to let the fans down. There were only 4 shows left. Surely you could make it. 

The entire show felt like a battle. 

You had to fight for every note. For every breath. 

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your throat was raw before you even got to the piano set. 

It took everything in you to hide the thinness in your voice. To prevent every sound from cracking as you forced each lyric out. 

It was…rough to say the least. 

But you made it- even if it was only by the skin of your teeth. 

You were shot by the time you did your final bow and disappeared backstage. You ignored the cold Gatorade being pressed into your palms, knowing it would only aggravate the glass shards in your throat, and shrugged off Steven and Clint. 

You didn’t need their concern, you needed to escape the roaring in your ears. The pounding in your chest. 

So you took turn after turn until you were in an abandoned section of hallways. 

You sighed, grasping at your throat as you slid down the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead into the rough material of your costume to drown out the pounding in your head. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and you groaned. 

The sound felt like hot coals in your throat, and it made your chest ache. 

You feared that no amount of steam, or tea, or pastilles would stop it this time. 

The cold bricks of the stadium felt nice against your skin, leaching the heat from your body, though it did nothing to help the fire in your chest. 

A fire that was quickly moving past the gray areas in your agreement with Alessia, and into a place that your daddy would definitely have something to say about. 

You were treating your limits with her like a tightrope, carefully toeing the edge. Except with the way you felt, you knew you were about to topple one way or the other. 

You ignored the sounds of clicking shoes coming closer, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see you. That they would leave you be to pull the cracked pieces of yourself back together. 

But your team knew better than to leave you to your own devices.

“Y/n?”

You tensed at the soft hand on your shoulders, and the sound of shifting clothing as someone settled on the ground beside you. 

“You ok, kid?” Natasha asked softly, running soothing circles on the top of your shoulders. 

You let out another breath before you pulled your face from its hiding spot, resting your chin on your knees. “I’m ok. Just wanted some quiet,”

You frowned at the horse whisper that left your lips, and the flair of pain that accompanied it. 

Natasha hummed. 

She had been part of your team from the beginning, back when you were a dumb 16-year-old, long before Pepper, Tony, Steve and the rest of the crew had joined, and she knew you nearly as well as Alessia did. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Just some quiet?” 

You knew that wasn’t what she was actually asking. 

The question went much deeper. 

She knew about your… dynamic with Alessia, and she had seen the striker take care of you in various ways. She was asking you what you needed. 

You nodded, looking away from her, afraid that she would see through you. 

“I needed a minute,” You said, your voice barely a squeak. “It was all too much, and I wanted to be alone before I got pulled into something else,”

She made a low sound at the familiar explanation. “And this has nothing to do with how you sound like you’re gargling rocks?”

You grimaced. “Nothing at all,”

She hummed. “So you’re not in any pain at all?”

“Nope,” You breathed out, the p the only clear part of the word. 

“Y/n,” She sighed. “I know you have an… aversion to admitting when you’re not… at the top of your game, but pushing yourself isn’t going to help anything. You don’t have anything to prove here,”

You ran a hand through your hair and rolled your eyes dramatically at her. She chuckled at the action. 

“There are only 3 more shows,” You said. “I can make it 3 more shows,”

“And how would Alessia feel if she knew you were going to put your comfort aside for 3 more shows?” Natasha asked softly. “And not just your comfort, your health. You sound like shit,”

You huffed at the mention of your girlfriend, your fingers instinctively finding the braided bracelet that never left your wrist. 

You knew how she would feel. You could practically hear what she would say. I expect you to take care of the things that belong to me. I expect you to treat them with respect and give them the love and care they deserve. 

“I’ve got it all under control,” You rasped, wincing at the action. 

It was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure you do. Since you have it all under control, you’ll stop ignoring your girlfriend,” She pulled the device out of her back pocket and balanced it on top of your knees. “She’s been blowing up your phone all day. I think she’s worried,” 

You stared at the phone, and as if on cue, it buzzed again with a new message. 

Alessia was going to be furious with you, and your daddy would be on another level entirely. 

She was usually the one to take the reigns when you were set on driving yourself into oblivion for the benefit of everyone else. But she wasn’t here. 

You sighed heavily. 

You knew that if you told her, she would drop everything. She would move heaven and earth if that was what you needed. 

You didn’t want that. 

She needed to focus on her game, and that meant that you couldn’t be a distraction. You would not disappoint her. Not when you were so close to finishing. 

“She needs to focus,” You mumbled, your voice straining. “She’s gotta impress Sarina to make the team. It’s important,”

“I think you forget that you are also important,” Natasha argued back softly, patting your back before carefully pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going to have Pepper cancel the meet and greet. You’re in no shape to meet fans. I should also have her call a doctor, but I already know you’ll fight me on it,” 

You frowned. You never sold meet and greet tickets, choosing to instead have your team select fans at each show. 

“But-“ 

She held up her hand before you could argue. “That isn’t up for debate. Get rest tonight, and we’ll assess tomorrow in the morning.”

Your jaw clenched, but you nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her. 

“I know the world thinks you’re superhuman, but it’s ok not to be indestructible,” She said, softly. “You need to remember to be Clarke Kent sometimes too. There’s a reason Lois fell in love with him first,”

With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

The silence of the empty hallway wasn’t as welcoming as it had been. It didn’t quiet your thoughts like it had. 

Instead, it felt suffocating. Like the walls were closing in on you, trapping you in your misery. 

You sighed another painful breath, before you grabbed your phone, reading the top notification, longing not to feel so…alone. 

Hey babe, caught the end of your show on a random livestream. Are we still on for our FaceTime tonight?

You let your head fall back, thumping the wall. 

Everything in you longed to say yes.

But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 

It was still nice to fantasize about seeing her. About hearing her say ‘Hello my little one,’ with a soft smile that brought out her dimples. If you closed your eyes you could almost feel the pressure of her fingers on the back of your neck, running through the baby hairs that lived there. ‘I’m here, and I’ve got you,’

You let your mind linger there for a long second before you forced your eyes back open. 

It took you three tries to type out your reply: sorry darling, I’m super tired. Rain check?

And you paused, your trembling finger over the send button, knowing you shouldn’t send it, but hitting the little blue arrow anyway. 

It was awful but necessary. 

You let out another long, ragged breath before you forced yourself to your feet and shoved your phone into your pocket, so you didn’t have to see her reply. You leaned heavily on the wall, no longer enjoying how it sucked the warmth from your skin, but using it to stay upright as the entire hallway tilted to the side. 

You should go back to your dressing room before Steve sent out a search party. Dealing with Nat was one thing, dealing with the overprotective instincts of Steve, Clint, and Thor was another. 

You didn’t have the mental capacity for that, and maybe your dressing room couldn’t make you feel like there was a rope on your lungs, dragging out your soul.

*****

You were not particular about a lot of things when you were on tour. You didn’t care about the size of your hotel room or the cars you were shuttled around in. You didn’t request overly expensive foods or special bubbly waters. 

The only thing on your rider that you were very specific about was your dressing room. 

It was your sanctuary away from the noise. A place you would spend more time in than your hotel room. 

It was important to you that it was always the same. Lit with twinkling fairy lights, the comfy gray couch that followed you on every tour stop standing near the table with your kettle and vocal steamer, and a diffuser already filling the room with the soft scent of lavender and honey. 

It filled your lungs the second you stepped through the door, wiping away the burning ache that accompanied every breath for just a second. Reminding you for one fleeting moment of the honeysuckle of Alessia’s favorite shampoo (the reason she picked the essential oil blend to begin with), before the knives returned to your chest. 

You rubbed your knuckles over your sternum to quell the feeling, stumbling over to the couch and collapsing into it. 

You pressed your nose into the soft gray material, wishing that you had grabbed the bright red sweatshirt you stole from your girlfriend when you last saw her. The smell of her perfume was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t gone yet, and there was a distinct longing in your stomach to be close to her. Even if you were the reason there was any space to begin with. 

You could hear your kettle bubbling next to you, and you knew you should make yourself some tea to soothe the sharp edges in your windpipe, but the thought of moving felt like too much. 

Instead, you sunk into the couch, your arm dangling off the cushion, your fingers brushing the ugly red carpet. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you didn’t have to look to know who was texting you. Still, the urge to see what she would say was too great for you to ignore it. 

It took all of your strength to move your heavy arm to your pocket and pull out your phone. Your fingers fumbled over the screen as you squinted at the device with the eye not pressed into the couch. 

The light made the throbbing in your head worse, and the words written on the screen made your lungs constrict.

Ok, my love. Are you sure everything is alright? This is the 3rd time this week.

You could almost hear the worry in her voice. See the suspicion in her blue eyes. 

They never failed to see through you. To strip away your exterior and leave you vulnerable and raw beneath them. It never made you feel exposed, even in the beginning when the two of you decided to extend your dynamic beyond your bedroom. Instead, you felt seen and safe. 

Sometimes she liked to have to work for your submission. She liked to peel away each layer of you one by one until you were a trembling mess beneath her. Open and vulnerable in a way no one else ever got to see you. 

Other times, you gave your submission willingly, stripping off your public persona like a dirty shirt and allowing her to envelop you in her warm comfort. 

How much you wanted that. How much you needed it. 

It was a desperation that filled your entire being. 

Before you could process what you were doing, you had already pressed her contact photo and brought the now-ringing phone to your ear. 

You laid the device on the side of your head and let your arm go back to dangling. It was too heavy to hold. 

It only rang twice before her voice filled your ears. 

“Hey my love,” She said, worry and relief mingling strangely in her tone. “I’m so happy you called me. How are you?”

Her voice washed over you like a soothing wave, like a balm on the sharp edges of your nerves, though it did little to help the fire in your lungs and throat. 

You pressed your nose into the couch, pretending that it was her shoulder for just a second. That the honey and lavender surrounding you was her perfume. That she was here. 

“Y/n, are you there?” She asked, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You couldn’t force any sound, beyond a low whistle past your inflamed throat. Your lungs crackled with each breath. 

Your inability to make sound didn’t bother you as much as it should have. 

“Y/n? Did you butt-dial me?” Alessia asked again, and you could almost feel her running her nails through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “I’m worried,”

The words were said with too much force, not at all the soft murmur your brain had been waiting to hear. 

It shook you out of your haze just enough for you to reach up and grab your phone, clicking the decline button too fast. 

You let the phone drop to the floor with a low thump as it immediately began to ring again. 

Your fingers twitched above the screen, but you didn’t have the strength to reach for it, even as it lit up again with your girlfriend's contact photo. 

Well, it was a photo of the two of you. You were curled up in her lap, in one of her blue UNC sweatshirts that were too big, and she was kissing the side of your head. 

It had been taken after a particularly grueling day in the studio. It was Alessia’s turn to host team bonding night. You didn’t remember exactly who took the picture, Leah or Lotte, maybe, but it was one of your favorites.

What the camera didn’t catch was that your arms were not in the sleeves. Instead, they were tied with intricate knots behind your back, hidden by the sweatshirt. 

It was something the two of you often did, and it was one of her go-to's when you were starting to spiral out of control. 

A part of you longed for the feeling of the knots now, and her fingers twisting the soft rope against your skin. 

Sure, the weight of your bracelet was nice, but it wasn’t enough. 

You let out a wheezing breath that crackled and hurt. 

If you asked, she would be here. She would wrap you up and pull you from your free fall. 

It took you a long second to remember why you couldn’t have that. 

Alessia had a job to do, and you wouldn’t stand in the way of that. 

The phone buzzed again against the ugly carpet, the little voicemail icon flashing. You doubted you would be able to resist calling her back if you listened to it.  

Still, you had to do something. 

So you flicked the screen with one finger, going to your messages, and typing out words that felt fake, even to you. 

Sorry, I’m ok. Just tired. I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Love you.

You clicked send before you could overthink it though, or your trembling fingers could betray you and type out the truth. You laid your head back down on the couch, curling into yourself as a painful cough forced its way past your lips. 

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, shivering before there was a soft knock at the door, and then the little click as it opened. 

A part of your brain hoped that it would be Alessia. That she had read your mind and somehow teleported to whatever city you were in. 

But the feeling of gentle fingers on the top of your shoulders told you that it wasn’t. 

“Y/n?” Natasha asked, very close to your ear, and you blinked up at her. 

You didn’t remember closing your eyes. 

“Hm?” You hummed, the sound raw and painful. 

“Let’s get you changed, and then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep,” She said, placing a hand under your armpit and guiding you to a sitting position. 

The tiny movement had coughs ripping past your lips. 

She held you steady with one hand and grabbed you a change of clothes with the other. 

“Easy,” She breathed out, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your sweaty skin. 

She left you shirtless for a long second as she disappeared into your bathroom, and the cool air of the dressing room felt nice on your overheated skin. 

It didn’t bother you. Natasha had seen you in far less clothing than your sports bra and underwear. 

She returned only a moment later with a towel, using it to dry you off before she slipped a light blue t-shirt with a foot on the back over your head. 

The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually, she was able to get you out of your costume and into a pair of sweats that were far too big for you.

She slid a pair of Converse onto your feet, scooping up your phone and tucking it into her pocket. 

“Let’s get you to the car,” She guided you to stand, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you. 

“People?” You asked, leaning more of your weight onto her as she pulled you towards the door. 

You missed her eye roll. 

Of course, all you were worried about right now was who would see you, and what they would think. 

“Not here,” Natasha reassured you gently, opening the door. “Only when we get back to the hotel,”

You made a low, painful sound as she half-carried you into the hallway. 

You still had time before you had to pull yourself together. 

******

The city lights blurred into a distorted kaleidoscope of colors during the short ride back to the hotel. 

The cool glass felt nice against your temple, though it did little to ease the throb in your head or the lava in your throat. 

The feeling of eyes watching you for any wavering in your resolve also wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t be sure if it was worry (that you would puke all over the car or pass out), or concern about what the fans would think when you pulled up to the hotel. 

The whirring of the engine wasn’t loud enough to block out your racing thoughts, but any music was too much for you to handle. 

You were drowning. 

Every breath hurt, but you didn’t know if it was because of the physical pain or the anxiety gnawing at you. 

You didn’t like to upset people. You didn’t like to disappoint them. 

You were a people pleaser to a fault, and this wasn’t the first time you had self-destructed to meet everyone’s expectations. 

But at the end of the day, the person you wanted to please most. The person you wanted to not disappoint the most was Alessia. Was your Daddy. 

You knew you were failing, but you didn’t know how to stop.

The car came to a stop in front of the hotel far too quickly, and not for the first time, you were thankful that the dark tint kept you hidden from public view. 

“Ready, kid?” Steve asked, turning around in the driver's seat to look at you. 

You nodded once, reaching forward and grabbing the sunglasses facing the wrong way on his head, and pulled them over your own eyes. 

You took a deep breath before Clint opened your door, painting your signature smile across your features. 

You didn’t wave when you got out, too focused on keeping yourself upright, as Steve’sarm wrapped around you on one side and Natasha’s did the same on the other. 

You felt safe tucked between them, though they did nothing to shield you from shrill screams and cheers that met you as soon as your feet touched the ground. They amplified the pounding behind your eyes, and the way the crowd pressed around you made it even harder to breathe (not that you thought that was possible). 

You did try to flash the crowd smiles as Natasha and Steve guided you through, Clint protecting your back, and you were thankful your eyes were hidden, despite it being nighttime. 

You never wanted the fans to see the… fakeness. The lie.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the hotel doors slid closed behind you, placing more of your weight on Steve as Natash called the elevator. 

“You’re burning up kid,” Steve murmured, shifting to get a better grip around your waist. 

You made a low sound, that turned into a full body caught that nearly had you doubling over. “Is that your way of calling me hot Stevie? What would Tony think?”

The words came out garbled, cracking with every syllable as you tried to talk through the coughs. 

Steve’s arm tightened around you to keep you upright. 

“I think he would say that you are sick,” Steve sighed at the mention of his husband, your publicist, taking more of your weight as another round of coughs wracked you. 

You pushed off of him as soon as you could breathe again, even if it felt like sucking air through a straw filled with needles, and swayed your way toward the elevator. 

It binged open as soon as you reached it, and you stumbled inside, gripping the metal bar on the back wall for support, and resting your forehead on the cool wall. 

You could feel the heat of your skin leaching into the surface, but it did little to quell the pounding in your ears or the feeling like everything was tipping on its head. 

Your fingers instinctively found the braided bracelet, running over the soft leather strands. 

However, this time, it didn’t ease the bubbling anxiety and fire in your chest. 

“We’re almost there, and then you can rest,” Natasha said softly, and you felt both her and Steve’s eyes on you as you leaned further into the wall. 

The movement of the elevator was starting to make you nauseous, but you didn’t think you could voice that even if you wanted to. Not with how raw your throat was. 

It took you a second to realize the elevator had stopped, and it wasn’t until Natasha gently touched your shoulder that you began to move again. 

You let Steve guide you out of the elevator and into the hallway. 

Natasha had the door to your suite open before you even got there, and Steve half-carried you to the bed, settling you on the fluffy white comforter. 

Your fingers tangled in the expensive sheets as you fought to keep yourself upright. 

“Do you want to take a shower?” Natasha asked you softly, kneeling in front of you and carefully undoing your sneakers. 

You shook your head slowly, smothering another cough. “Sweatshirt,”

The croaky word hurt as it left your lips, barely audible and surrounded by more lung-crunching coughs. 

But they understood, Steve, passing you a bright red sweatshirt from your bag. 

You brought it to your face and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing in the perfume that clung to the material. 

It burned as it filled your senses, but you could pretend that it soothed the edges of glass in your throat and lungs. You could pretend that it was her taking off your shoes and tucking you in. 

You could pretend that it was all ok and that she wasn’t going to be livid when she found out. Not that you were sick, but that you hadn’t told her immediately. 

You knew you would take whatever punishment she decided you deserved with no questions. She could be rather creative when she was annoyed with you. 

“Let’s get you settled properly,” Natasha said, shifting you on the bed so your head was on the pillows, as Steve moved the covers and tucked them around you. “Rest now, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning,” 

You groaned, sending more flames down your airway, rolling over and pressing your face more firmly into the sweatshirt. 

You heard the distinctive sound of your phone being plugged in, and the click of the door. 

And then you were alone. 

More alone than you had been in a very long time. 

Even if it was all your own doing, you hadn’t been this disconnected since the beginning of Alessia’s college career, and your first tour with Taylor. The infamous break in your relationship. Even though neither of you had actually experimented with anyone else, and you had texted and called nonstop, you had been hesitant to push too far, to ask for too much. 

You blew out a long breath into her sweatshirt, ignoring the little needles that followed the air, eyes fixed on the phone on your bedside. 

It buzzed again as if it knew you were thinking about it. 

You reached your hand out, pulling it close so you could look at it, but it was still plugged in. 

The movement had the screen lighting up with a string of messages. The one at the top made your heart hurt.

Please don’t ignore me, my Little One. I’m worried.

It said, and you could almost hear the inflection in her tone. You could almost see her eyes softening, and feel her fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. 

You closed your eyes, pressing more deeply into the sweatshirt under your head. 

Your fantasy world was far nicer than the reality you were in, and the universe wouldn’t end if you stayed in it until morning. 

********

Your night was… hazy, filled with half-dreams that were increasingly difficult to distinguish from real life. As the morning light crept its way further and further across the ceiling, you leaned into the sweatshirt slowly losing its smell, one eye peeking out to track its progress. 

It felt like a timer. A countdown clock on the imagined feelings of soothing hands on your back and whispered reassurance that everything would be okay. 

Soon enough the door would open and you would have to be you again. You would have to pretend like each breath you took didn’t feel like a bear was mauling your lungs, and your brain wasn’t a freight train threatening to escape from your skull. 

You would have to deal with the incessant buzzing of your phone that had kept you on the edge of real sleep all night. 

You would have to face your girlfriend. Your daddy. 

You were not looking forward to it. Any of it. 

The only thing that you were semi-excited about was watching your girlfriend play, even through a screen. That had been your only saving grace back when she was in college before the two of you got back together, and you knew it would be your only saving grace now. 

You sighed, rolling over, the sweatshirt falling from its bunched-up place against your cheek, and reaching for the phone still on the corner of the bed next to you. 

It buzzed again as your fingers caught it, and brought it closer so you could see the screen. It was filled with notifications. 

Some were from the group thread you shared with your manager, assistant, and publicist. Some were emails from people you were collaborating with. 

But the majority were from Alessia. 

You couldn’t help but click on the thread. 

You knew it was a mistake immediately. 

Good morning little one. I’ll have some time if you want to FaceTime before the game. I miss you, and I’m worried. You don’t usually ignore me.

It was like an arrow straight through your heart. 

A direct hit to your will. 

You swallowed hard, ignoring how badly it burned, and typed out a message. 

I miss you too. Good luck today. You’re going to do amazing

You dropped your phone after you hit send, deciding that finding the starting 11 wasn’t important anymore, and stared up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, pulling the comforter more tightly around you despite the sweat breaking out across your chest. 

You thought it would help the hollow feeling slowly taking over your insides, or the dull throb that accompanied each breath. 

It did not. 

You let your eyes slide back closed, deciding that the light hadn’t transversed far enough across the ceiling for you to need to be awake yet. Not when the pull of sleep was so strong, and the comfort of your half dreams was too difficult to resist. 

“You know I don't like it when you hide from me,” Alessia’s voice said sternly, as though it was right next to your ear, and you felt fingertips graze your lips. 

You didn’t open your eyes. Even amongst the haze that was filling every crack in your brain, you knew she wasn't here. She couldn’t be here. Not when she was back in London about to play some team you couldn’t remember. 

“I know,” You rasped out.  

The fingers gently pulled at your bottom lip before they circled back towards your cheek, and a thumb brushed across your closed eyelid. 

“And you’re still doing it?” She asked, and you felt the air of each word on your ear. 

You shook your head, turning it slightly, hoping to feel her nose bump hers. “You need to focus on the important things,” 

You didn’t come into contact with her, though you knew you should have with the way you shifted. 

“And you are not important to me?” She asked her voice hardening in the way it only did when you were about to receive a punishment. 

An involuntary shiver ran down your spine, and your eyes opened automatically. 

You sucked in a painful breath, blinking blearily at the face above you.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Natasha said quietly, even as your eyes darted around, searching for your girlfriend. “It’s 1, so you need to wake up so we can make a decision about tonight,” 

“Less?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper when you saw that Natasha was the only other person in the room with you. 

Natasha frowned, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “She’s in London, remember? The game against Luxembourg starts soon,” 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. You hadn’t remembered that they were playing Luxembourg. 

“She’s starting?” 

“No,” Natasha shook her head. “It’s mostly the young ones starting since the over-under is plus 20 for England,”

Your nose scrunched, and you forced yourself to sit up. “She has to play,”

None of this would be worth it if she never touched the field. 

“I think Serina is using this as more of an identification camp,” Natasha countered, stepping in to help you sit up. “The girls need rest after doing both the Champions League and regular play these last couple of weeks,”

You grunted though it sounded more like a pained wheeze than a grunt. 

Alessia’s schedule had been nearly as insane as your own for the past few months. It was part of the reason you were so… reluctant to bother her with something as trivial as a tickle in your throat. 

“Maybe you should take a page out of her book,” Natasha added. 

Your nostrils flared immediately at the implication. 

Your job was so much less physical than Alessia’s. You didn’t do anything to deserve rest like she did. 

The pressure you both face to perform was inherently different.

She didn’t let down millions of people every time she rode the bench. She wouldn’t crush the dreams of thousands of people if she didn’t take the pitch. 

But still, you could already hear her argument ringing in your head. 

I expect you to care for the things that belong to me as deeply and completely as I do. That includes yourself. Your needs matter, and I will not allow you to disregard them.

“No.” You rasped, none of the bite you meant appearing in the word. 

“Yes,” Natasha countered, shifting the pillows behind you before you leaned back. “There is no way you can perform tonight,”

You huffed, and crossed your arms, glaring at the city beyond the large window to the right of the bed. “People paid-“

“To hear you sing. Not hack your way through a set,” Natasha cut you off. “They’ll be more disappointed if you give them a show that’s not your best. Reschedule the last 3, so they’re worth what they paid,”

Your glare only deepened, and your eyebrows pulled very tightly together as you processed what she was saying (taking a few extra minutes to cut through the thick fog in your brain). 

You knew she was playing on your sensibility. You thought ticket prices were disgusting, and had fought to lower them as much as you could. You had made your show longer in retaliation, so the fans got what they paid for. 

You wouldn’t give them a sub-par show. 

You didn’t look at her but nodded once. 

“I’ll have Tony write a statement. Do you want to approve it before it goes out?” She asked, her voice gentle. 

You shook your head, your lips pursing. 

“We’ll release it then, and I’ll call a doctor so we can get you some real medication,” The redhead continued, ignoring the deep frown pulling at your features. 

It wasn’t that you were trying to be difficult. You just knew what would happen the second the people staked outside of your hotel caught sight of a doctor. 

But now you felt like you didn’t have a choice, and not in the fun way.

“Fine,” You muttered, a hacking cough following it. 

Natasha patted your back until the coughing stopped, and you relaxed back against the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have food sent up, you just watch the game and try to get more sleep before the doctor gets here,”

You huffed but didn’t protest as she tucked the blanket tighter around your torso. 

“I know you’re unhappy with all of this, but it is what it is, and we need to look after your health too,” She sighed, turning and bustling around the room, flipping on the television to the game and grabbing a mug you hadn't noticed from the dresser by the door. “Drink that, and I’ll be back in a bit,”

You didn’t respond as she placed the mug on the table beside you, and disappeared through the hotel room door with a soft click. 

You wanted to groan. To yell. To throw the mug across the room, but you knew it wouldn’t help. 

The other part of you wanted your guitar, not that you were sure your fingers were strong enough right now to actually play.  

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back on the pillows. 

It wasn’t long before you felt fingers in your hair, though you hadn’t heard the door open again. 

You instantly knew who it was, though her perfume was suspiciously missing. 

“You look like you got hit by a bus,” She murmured, her breath brushing across your nose. 

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting her blue, except it was two shades darker than you remembered, the same shade as the old UNC jersey she was wearing. 

“I’m fine,” You croaked, the sound pulling a hacking cough from your lungs that burned as it left you. 

“Ah yes, because you sound just fine,” She huffed, her nails scratching lazily at your scalp. “You don’t need to hide from me,”

You blinked slowly, and her form shimmered slightly beside you. “‘M not. ‘M right here,”

“Rule one is honesty for a reason,” She countered, her hand pausing. “You’ve not abided by that.”

You swallowed around the glass in your throat at the confirmation of what you already knew, and your eyes closed again as the heavy weight of it settled on your mind. 

You had broken the most sacred rule and you were in trouble. It wouldn’t just be a punishment you would have to take. It would be regaining her trust that would take the longest time. 

It was a fragile thing, and you had shattered it. 

You forced your eyes open again, determined to say something- anything- that would make it better, except when you did, she was gone. 

You blinked heavily at the empty bed beside you. The space she had been seconds ago. 

You wanted to shake your head, but with the freight train pounding in your skull, you knew that was a terrible idea. 

“This is a very different starting eleven for England, but it’s what we expected. The only change of note is that Alessia Russo is unavailable for this game.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the television, flashing the starting lineup for the game. 

Natasha said Alessia wasn’t starting, but you expected her to at least be on the bench. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back. 

What was the point of suffering alone if Alessia wasn’t even going to play?

You weren’t sure anymore.

******

“I’ve got her,” 

You stirred at the familiar voice, and the feeling of gentle fingers running through your hair and the bed shifting next to you. The scent of lavender and honey wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, pulling you closer to consciousness. 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together before your eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar blue of your girlfriend. 

“Hey there,” She said softly, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing but a low hacking cough came out. 

“Easy, little one,” Alessia shushed you softly. “Just relax. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you now, ok?”

It was painful how real she felt. Painful how much you wanted to believe she was here with you. 

“Trouble,” You mumbled, coughing violently afterward, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her hand. 

“I think we should make it your middle name since you seem to find it so often,” She murmured, running her hand again through your hair. “But no. You’re not in trouble. Not right now,”

You made a low, wheezing sound, shaking your head, despite the waves of nausea it sent to your stomach. “Real daddy disagrees,” 

She frowned. “Real daddy?”

You swallowed hard, forcing words past your stolen vocal cords. “Not here. In Luxembourg. Won’t fool me again,” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, her nails dragging against your scalp in the way she knew you loved. “Natasha called me last night, and I got on the flight as soon as I could,”

It took a few extra seconds for her words to filter through the unpleasant haze in your brain. Even then, they didn’t make sense. 

Hell, her entire demeanor, including the softness in her features as she looked at you, didn’t make sense. 

You explicitly told Natasha not to call her, and you couldn’t process her going against that request. Not when Alessia had a game to play. 

“My brain is making you up,” You wheezed after another long second. 

She breathed out a half chuckle. “While your brain is brilliant, I wasn’t conjured by it,” 

You made a low, husky sound that could only be incredulity. 

Her thumb again smoothed the space between your eyebrows. “What will it take for you to believe you’re awake?”

You blinked heavily at her, your shoulders lifting and falling. 

She shook her head. “You’re too much,”

“No,” You mumbled, the crease between your eyebrows pushing against her finger. “‘M a good girl,”

“Yes. You are always my good girl, even when you’re being a stubborn pain in the ass,” She agreed fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to your too-warm forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be here where you wake up, and maybe you’ll actually believe you’re not dreaming,”

“Promise?” you asked. Sounding small, as exhaustion pulled at you. 

She hummed. “I promise,”

Her fingers kept their soft rhythm in your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, and you shifted to press your nose into her shoulder, breathing in her perfume with each rattling intake from your lungs. It surrounded you, soothing the burning in your chest, and soothing the sharp edges in your throat. 

For the first time since the lingering tickle started, you actually felt at peace. You felt calm enough to let yourself truly relax. 

It would suck when you woke up and Alessia was gone, but doing anything other than allowing your mind to linger in this delusion felt unbearable. 

Instead, you allowed yourself to sink into the overwhelming pull of exhaustion. 

And you swore you heard an “always,” before sleep pulled you under. 

Even if this alessia didn’t turn out to be real, you trusted her. And as angry as you wanted to be at Natasha and Steve for calling her, you knew she was exactly what you needed. 

She always would be, even if she was just made up in your mind. 

[fujoshirat]

Shouto Todoroki proposes with a fucking house (Be careful what you wish for ♡)

It was a Thursday night, chilly November air nipping at your nose as you walked out of the theater with your love. Shouto wanted to watch the new All Might movie, and who were you to say no to a date with your lovely boyfriend?

He seemed to enjoy it, the way his eyes lit up every time he saw his idol appear on screen. A boyish, childlike wonder present every time his eyes sparkled, he was so cute!!—wait a minute, that’s not the point!

The main point comes after this scene: after getting hot chocolate from a food stand with Shouto, you both sat down on a nearby bench. Sipping the much-needed warm drink, you let out a soft sigh.

“Isn’t hot chocolate so delicious, Shou?” Your boyfriend nods, small smile on his face as he watches your cheery expression. The cold brought a faint pink hue to his cheeks, making them rosy. He seemed contempt in the quiet moment, something you were used to with him.

But then, his gaze turned contemplative. Scooting a bit closer to you, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him curiously. “Sure, what’s up?”

His kissable lips pressed together firmly, like he was hesitant to say what was on his mind.

“How… do you feel about marriage?” The question caught you off-guard, and you nearly choked on your hot chocolate. “M-marriage?!?”

He nods shyly, though his expression was serious. “Yes, what do you think about it? I’ve been thinking, and… it’s something I want with you in the future—if you want that, too.” Your heart had melted at his honesty. You and Shouto have been dating for a while now, and sure, you didn’t mind marrying him, but you didn’t expect him to bring it up so casually.

Heart pounding in your chest, you turn your eyes from your drink and face him. Your breath hitches when you see his earnest expression. “Well, I wouldn’t mind marrying you, Shouto. And if we were to get married someday, I don’t want anything super fancy! I’m not into those huge diamond rings and over-the-top proposals, which all seem like a huge waste of money and a silly way to “show” that you love someone.” Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes widen at your statement, processing your words. “You wouldn’t want a ring?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, I’d want a ring. Just nothing extravagant, you know? I’d rather have something permanent.” Your boyfriend tilts his head confusedly.

“Permanent? What’s more permanent that a ring?” ‘Good question,’ you thought. Before Shouto brought it up right now, you never really thought about the specifics of marriage. Thinking for a moment, you decide to tease the boy and grin mischievously.

“A house,” you say proudly, half joking-half serious. No way was anyone in their right mind going to propose to you with a house oh how wrong you were babe. “I mean, it’s not something that sits on your finger until you break it or you lose it or you get too fat from aging or childbirth. It’s a place where memories are made, and…” You gently cup his right cheek with your hand, soft smile on your face, “hopefully if we do get married, it will be good memories.”

Shouto stared at you for a few seconds, as if you had just revealed the meaning of life itself. The man had already told you about his rough childhood a few years back, and you had already met his family a while ago. You knew what he feared, and you knew how to comfort him and make everything okay. Nodding slowly, Shouto gently touched the hand that was caressing his cheek. “A house,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You didn’t think of it much then. After all, it was just a silly, offhand comment that would never actually happen…

...right?

You had laughed off your “wish” not even a few minutes after you said it, and continued chatting about the movie and basking in your boyfriend’s company.

But Shouto? Shouto took it to heart. And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

That’s why, exactly one year later, on another chilly November night, he drove you into a quiet, fancy neighborhood that you definitely had no business being in.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You both had just finished a pleasant, fancy dinner in the heart of the city and were driving back to your shared apartment. Perhaps Shouto was just taking a detour to tour the area. Perhaps Fuyumi-san was interested in moving out to a nice neighborhood with her boyfriend? As your mind drifted away in a daydreaming cloud, the black BMW M850i pulled up to the sidewalk and came to a stop. The warm hand caressing your thigh gently squeezed it, and Shouto put the car on park. “My love,” he spoke, voice smooth and low, “Would you like some fresh air?” You quirked a brow curiously but nodded and unbuckled. Your boyfriend came around and opened the door for you, holding your lower back gently as he guided you to the sidewalk.

Curiously, you looked around at the beautiful houses around you in wonder. They were a mix of traditional and modern. It almost reminded you of Shouto’s own household, though these ones were obviously new and had a better, modern architectural design to it.

Intertwining his fingers in his, he looks down at your figure and smiles softly. “This is a new neighborhood that I wanted to show you. It was recently completed in July.” His voice was calm, a soft smile on his face—with a hint of something that you couldn’t identify. Something… deeper.

You tilted your head and looked up at him curiously. “It’s beautiful, love, but, why are we here?”

And then,

Shouto got down on one knee—

a gasp,

and pulled out a small velvet box—

another gasp,

and opened it—

revealing a delicate diamond ring.

It was simple, elegant, and exactly what you had in mind one year ago.

But before you could say anything else, he pulled something else out of his pocket:

A small, silver key.

Your jaw drops, mouth hanging wide open, as small tears prick at your eyes. Shouto smiles softly at your expression, gaze never wavering. “I remembered what you said last year and-”

“Shouto. Himura. Todoroki. You didn’t!”

He chuckles, your knees feeling week as you stared at his amused yet sincere expression.

“I did.” Warm liquid falls down your cheek before you know it, yet all you can focus on is the man in front of you.

“I know that you said you wanted something permanent, and I want to give you something permanent too.” He glances at the house that you both were in front of, and then back at you. “It’ll be a place where we can build a life together, a place where you will always be safe, a home where you will always feel loved.” Your heart cracks even further at the sound of his voice, honest and genuine and vulnerable and raw.

“My love for you is permanent, Y/N, and if you’ll have me, I want to share this with you, forever.”

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to find words. “Shouto, hic are you— sniffle this—this house—” “I wanted you to have both a ring and a house.” Your boyfriend says that with full conviction in his voice, honesty and sincerity evident.

“Will you, L/N, Y/N, marry me?”

You nod furiously and desperately wipe some of your tears,

“Yes! God, yes Shouto!” Your new fiancé wastes no time scrambling up to his feet and sliding the ring on your pretty ring finger. Gently, he pulls you into his arms and tenderly wipes some of your tears.

“You’re sniffle incredible,” you murmur in his chest. Shouto laughs, but he is cut off by the second half of your statement. “And incredibly terrible!” He blinks, confusedly. “What? Why?”

“Shouto!” You chastize him with a huff, using your sleeve to wipe away snot that’s probably gross (Shouto doesn’t think it’s that gross). “Why would you spend 60 million yen on me!?!” (approximately $400,000 in USD)

He blinks again, confused, as if you had said something silly. “I’m a pro hero,” he says cooly, shrugging as if that and the amount of money he spent was no big deal (it really isn’t a big deal to him). “I’ve been saving, and…” Gently, he holds the hand with the ring up to his lips and kisses your knuckles gently, making your knees buckle and your cheeks even rosier.

“You’re worth it, my love. This ring, the house, nothing can compare to how happy and loved you’ve made me.” Tears well up in your eyes once again, threatening to spill over as your heart clenches. “That’s so unfair,” you murmur, voice cracking. Shouto’s lips quirk up into a smug smile, almost like a smirk, showing his blatant amusement.

“What is, darling?”

“Being this perfect,” you mutter, tears streaming down your cheeks again. Shouto laughs and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, but you deserve everything, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you know it.” His eyes widen when you let out a whiny sob, burying your face into his warm chest. His left hand gently rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. A cool autumn breeze blows by, ruffling your hair. Shouto sees you visibly shiver and strokes your head.

“You must be cold, would you like to go inside?”

He watches your puffy yet beautiful eyes sparkle, and Shouto can’t tell if it is from your tears or happiness. Yet, he understands that the answer is both when you interlace your hand with his and use your free hand to unlock the door to the brand new 60 million yen home with a brand new diamond ring on your finger in the brand new luxury neighborhood with your brand new fiancé and soon to be husband. ♡

[lepusthropy]

I'm a werehare otherlink! (Which is a mix between a werewolf and a hare.)

My favourite animal is, surprise surprise, the hare. But less surprisingly, the werewolf isn't that high up in my favourite animals list. I just feel like one.

Forests!! Deeeeep dark forests. They're just so cozy and cool.

Nighttime definitely. I feel so much more calm and relaxed at nighttime!

I love drawing my linktype, or more accurately: drawing me as my linktype. I also like to accessorise with a tail at home! (Speaking of accesorising, this is kind of unrelated but one of my chain necklaces just snapped, but because the necklace is like 3 chains layered on top of each other and only one layer snapped it feels like I have a chain leash now! JSJSJSJ)

Dont feel like sharing specifics, but I am a minor.

I love masks soo much, but I don't have any of my own yet. I also love collars and leashes, especially chain ones.

My favourite gemstone is my birth gemstone, lapis lazuli <3

I have a pretty wide range when it comes to music taste, but I tend to go for Britpop or Industrial Rock artists.

I have self-induced mental shifts, if that's the right word for it? I don't get them naturally (Sadly).

Unfortunately not. I wish I got them...

Sometimes. But it's not really serious dysphoria, almost to the point where I'm not sure if I can call it dysphoria. It feels like a mild inconvenience, or at most a medium-sized issue that I can't actually change into a werewolf hare under the moon.

I have my previously aforementioned tail and semi-collar.

I try! I'm kind of unfit and tire out easily, but I do love to do a little hop or a trot every now and then. Of course, my form isn't as nice as I'd like it to be because I don't consistently practice. But when I don't record myself doing it and can't see myself, it feels sooo freeing and species-euphoria-inducing to do quads.

When I discovered otherkinity and decided to call myself an otherlink for the first time, I was linking to a werewolf and a hare separately. But now I've decided that squishing the two into a hybrid species and linking to that is a much more comfortable identity.

Of course! They're my one and only warren/packmates. I love them with all of my heart. <3

Yep! My current fursona is Fruit of the Sea, who you can go check out at @spoofingabout.

Also yep! I don't really like to stick any labels on my queer identity but if I had to use some to describe how I feel, they'd be: genderqueer and pangender, aegosexual, and biromantic.

Not diagnosed, but I'm almost 100% sure I have ADHD. I'm too scared to ask my parents if I can attempt to get a diagnosis.

No, but I am in the age regression community.

Nope.

Kind of! Sometimes I feel uncertain about my identity as alterhuman, and then I remember that the whole point of otherlinking is that it is a voluntary identity and I can't really be "faking" it because I am, in fact, actively choosing to link with my species. They mainly manifest in the form of brief little anxieties that (most of the time) get counteracted really quickly LOL.

Nope!

Also nope.

I used to identify as Eurasian Tree Sparrow-hearted, but then I learnt about the term otherlink and I knew immediately that that was the label for me. I've grown distant from sparrows as a whole lately.

Nope.

I wish!!

Well. It exists inside of my head?

Not really.

Omnivore! But mainly a herbivore lol. Mainly because I like vegetables more than meat IRL.

Otherkin/alterhuman/therian question game!

[nerdylosernat]

Divorced!Natasha Headcanons

You and Nat being divorced and having to set your meeting place on a gas station to drop your two daughters off like they're some drugs or some paraphernalia and shit.

Nat being the one who spoils the kids A LOT, you finding the kids with so much chocolate on their face when you just told her not to give so much sweets to the kids.

During the first week of shared custody of the kids, she had a hard time. She's never been in your home and it was one of the reasons you filed for divorce—she's always absent. She had a hard time because she doesn't know what to do, what the kids wanted for dinner, so she would always order take outs compare to when they were with you, the go, grow, glow foods always served in their meals. She doesn't know what their soap and shampoos are, or when she has no idea that her oldest wants her hair braided the same as hers whenever she goes to school, and that your youngest needs her back scratched so she could fall asleep. So the second time she had them, you had listed it all in a paper and gave it to her.

The kids' playground is basically the Avengers compound when they're in Natasha's custody.

She always asks the kids about how you're doing, does people give you a hard time or when...you're seeing someone else.

One time, the kids told Natasha you've got hickeys on your neck, well, for having a wild make out session with your co-worker that you discovered had the weirdest kink so you immediately bailed out early the date. Your youngest cried after she saw you that night while saying, "I will tell mama about this! Who hurt you? Mama will know!" And you immediately told her the most stupidest excuse you could make up to that you know they'll buy. "Oh baby, mommy burnt herself in...in my friends' house so it's not a big thing, please don't tell mama?" So when they got with Natasha and Natasha asked them about you, your oldest immediately and innocently smoked you out, "Mommy got so many bruises on her neck, but it's not a big deal because she just burnt herself, mama." And when Natasha asked again, "What was mommy wearing that night?" Because she knew that was a lame and stupid excuse you told your children. The two shouted in unison, "A nice dress mama!" From there, she immediately knew you've been on a date. "Mommy was so beautiful! I wish you saw!" Natasha could only clench her jaw for having the thought of someone having you, and her replying to her mind, well I wish I was the one to taking off the dress out of her.

Give me more headcanons about her please!😭 Hit me in the ask!!!

[spiderfunkz]

MISERY LOVES COMPANY

cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw: gender dysphoria, struggles with identity, fluff, the use of 'y/n' like once. inspired by young-mi's "you're beautiful, unnie".

it was finally time to rest. this has been more stressful than you imagined, the blue badge by your chest representing the opposite of your thoughts. you wanted to continue, ignoring all the mean quips given when voting. you knew the risks, but it meant more than anything to pay off all of your debts. to finally live life with no more worries.

but of course it is with struggle. the games were so difficult, but you didn't want to die because of a children's game. that's just so pathetic, is what you think. truly, you wanted to go home, to your tiny cramped apartment. to be able to sleep on the thin mattress you took take for granted.

you couldn't sleep like this. so you got up to go to the restroom, after some debating with the guard, you were let in. you remembered when you were younger, people seemed to think nobody could beat you in a debate, you still believe that is true.

your skin was tainted in blood, your hair was so messy, and you felt so extremely tired. you stood in front of the sink, trying your best to scratch away all the blood that seemed engraved in your skin.

that's when you noticed someone beside you.

she was beautiful. so, so, so beautiful. her hair was tied back in a ponytail, her nails were painted— you've seen her earlier.

player 120. you noticed her earlier during the games, how she seemed so brave and fearless. you wished you had that sort of bravery, maybe then, it would've been easier for you.

but in this light, she seemed rather sad.

"are you okay?" you ask, your voice was shaky. were you nervous?

she looks at you, nodding. this was your chance to open a topic. find a friend, that's something you've been struggling to do this entire time. you've gone through many different players throughout all the games so far, you realized forming allies wasn't your best suit.

"i'm y/n," you give her your best smile,

"hyun-ju." she replies, you think you could listen to her voice for hours. "that's pretty," you hummed, "your name is very pretty."

you see her cheer up slightly, "thank you."

"i have been saying, you know— people who have really pretty names are the prettiest themselves." the blood on your skin seemed to have gone away. as if your worries went with it.

"you don't mean that."

"i do."

you observe her, oh how she was gorgeous. "you are very beautiful, hyun-ju." you smile again, she smiles in return. "would you like to be friends? i've had very little luck with finding friends here,"

she nods, profusely. "i would love to."

"okay then, nice to meet you, hyun-ju." she shakes your hand. from here and on, you've got a feeling this game would go by much easier.

[everythingspokenfor]

𝓜𝓻. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓵

Pairing: Bakugou x reader. All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI. ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏Summary: Maybe you should have looked up what your boss looked like...

Thinking about foreign!reader who comes to Japan as a support tech engineer and having an eventful first meeting with Bakugou

Bakugou hates airports, especially around this time of the year, too crowded, too loud, bustling with people. If he had a choice he wouldn't have come, send in a driver and cozied up in his bed but, his mom had different plans, she had called him the night before, specifically told him to pick her up from the airport. So, here he was, waiting for her plane to land, 3:45 am in the morning, a rapidly cooling coffee in his hand.

He was growing agitated at the whispering around him, it's easy for him to get recognised, blond hair and striking red eyes not easily forgettable. He sharply turns to leave the waiting room, not necessarily paying attention when his hand, the one that was holding cold coffee slams into someone and boom now he is staring at the aftermath.

You are staring start ahead, breathing deeply, you turn your head towards the jerk that slipped coffee all over you. Cold seeped through your shirt, the chill almost chilling your bones. You could feel the coffee seeping into your shirt, then inner wear and then your bra.

"Are you going to apologise or what?" You scowl at him, the coffee seeping through your shirt, the wet cloth irritating you further.

Bakugou continues to stare at you, anger evident on your features, he assumes you aren't Japanese from the lack of accent in your english. Before he could apologise you speak again.

"At least have the courtesy to apologise, asshole" you spit out at him, before throwing him the nastiest little glare.

Bakugou is surprised that you don't him, maybe it's his ego but again he is the top hero maybe not his rankings but he is famous and infamous for reasons. Everyone knows him, even people outside of Japan.

"Do you not know who I am?" He finally speaks, not the smartest response but a response nonetheless.

"Am I supposed to know you?" You look at him incredulously, anger subsiding and confusion settling in.

"you know what, don't answer that, i don't care and I am tired, all I know is you are a jerk and I really wish to never run into you again!" You semi-yell at him and leave the waiting room.

He almost chased after you but he phone started ringing, his mother's contact displayed on the screen, informing him of her arrival.

He looked back at the direction you had gone, but you already disappeared. Sighing he left to pick his mother from the arrival gate. And he leaves, slightly bummed that he didn't get to apologise.

-------

"-nd like he walked straight into me and didn't bother apologising." You waved your hands around, trying to emphasize your impromptu collision with Mr. Brick wall, to your new housemate and colleague.

Not necessarily a good think, shit talking on first day of work, but you had to kinda explain why you were doing laundry in the middle of the night.

"That's rude, could've at least apologised.". Mari agreed, both of you walked down the hallway as she was showing you around the agency building.

"Well, hopefully no further mishaps occur." She had stopped in front of a large laboratory, you could already spot your stuff on one of the tables.

"Yeah, hopefully." You mumbled mindlessly, eyes admiring the lab, it was the largest you had seen, with more advanced equipments as well. Mari left you alone at your destination, already going back to her work.

You also got to work, looking into boxes of broken and damaged support equipments, you had already read about them, their functions and materials used to build.

It was an easy job to repair the items, folding your sleeves you got to work, one by one you repaired majority of the items the only thing left where, chunky, hefty, gauntlets.

You knew the belonged to Pro-Hero Dynamight, read about him in passing, already aware of the architecture of the Gauntlets, it didn't take long for you to fix them up, even being generous enough to replace parts with your tech.

Assuming your work was done you called Mari.

"You still need to see if the function alright." She paused before looking at her laptop screen," Pro hero Dynamight is already in the building, you should give him the equipment and see if it works properly."

Even tho, you were slightly peeved, cause of course it works, you just fixed it, you still took the hefty box to 12th floor of the building.

You entered the office without knocking, hands busy holding the box, barely even looking at the people standings there you deposit the box on the table next to the couch.

"Here, it's for Dynamight, fixed it, they should work top notch." You gasp out, breath slightly rapid due to carrying all that weight.

You turn around and spot 2 people in the room, one was Pro-Hero Red Riot, whom you recognised because he has least amount of support equipments listed and the other was Mr. Brick wall.

"You little shit, what are you doing here?" You blurt out without thinking, finger accusingly pointing at him. Not yet aware that the Pro-Hero you were looking for is right there, at the end of your accusatory finger.

Kirishima stared at you in amusement, before speaking," You must be the new tech, Welcome to the agency, I am Kirishima Eijirou." He stood up and extended his hand for a shake, you politely took his hand and uttered your name. Before looking over his shoulder at Bakugou.

"Don't mind me, but what did lil' shit over there do?" Kirishima semi-whispered in your ear, thumb pointing back, at where Bakugou stood.

"I spilled coffee on me, and then stared at me like it was my fault." You stated, arms folded, glaring at him, Bakugou stared back at you, hands shoved in his pocket as he leaned against the table.

"It was an accident, you scurried away before I could apologise." He finally spoke, Kirishima nodded his head, like accepting the explanation.

"NO, I waited and Mr. Brick Wall didn't apologise." You yelled, looking at Kirishima to back you up.

"That's not cool," Kirishima looked at you, shit eating grin on his face, you grinned back, feeling confident that Pro hero Red Riot was on your side, he continued,"You should apologise, Dynamight."

The gratification of getting the apology didn't last long when you registered his last word.

"Dyna-dynamight??" You spluttered," As in Pro Hero?" You looked dumbfounded between the two heros, face flushing in embarrassment, before you turned to Bakugou, who was looking at you bemused.

"I didn't kno- I am sorry, it was my fault." You uttered desperately, the fear of getting fired on your first day making you forget your past grudges. You haphazardness making Kirishima giggle, and Bakugou sigh.

"Oi, it was my fault, should have seen where I was going" Bakugou said calmly, moving to smack the back of Kirishima's head, who promptly shit up.

"You don't have t-." Bakugou shushes you before you could speak," The mistake was mine, me being a hero doesn't change that."

You stared at him, hoping for him to dismiss you soon, so you could sob in the corner of your big, beautiful lab.

"How about this, I get you a coffee, as an apology." He asked, Kirishima let out a snort, before Bakugou glared at him.

"You don't have to, it's not an issue anymore, Mr. Bri-Dynamight." You looked sheepishly at him, hoping he didn't change on the nickname you had given him.

"Let me, I'll get you a coffee, you'll need it after working here for a while."

"Fine then, we can get it sometimes." You accept his proposal (?),before looking at him, awkwardly trying to gesture at the door.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, watching you flare your arms towards the door, before Kirishima spoke," You can leave now, I am sure the gauntlets would work just fine."

At the dismissal you scurried out the door, running zig zag avoiding the few people present in the hallway.

"So, that's the 'fireworks' you were talking about, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima queried, head resting against his palm, as a smug expression formed on his face.

"Don't fucking push it." Bakugou gritted out, trying to think of how he could fix his image in your eyes.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima chimed.

[basmala260]

Can we talk about how good this was from Glinda? I mean, It was only at the first moment that she realized that she was not as strong as she imagined, and she always plays the role of perfection to convince herself of that and ignore the fact that she will not get the only things she truly wished for

Instead, those things were Elphaba's, but Glinda didn't hate her or envied her at all, Even if it was shown that Madame Morrible She was comparing them to each other and belittling Glinda, who had such respect and appreciation for her

she even tried to teach her how to become Popular to be loved as she deserves

She was happy to see her go to the Emerald City

I encouraged her so hard to prove herself to the Wizard and stop being afraid, without Glinda, She wouldn't have the believe of herself to Define Gravity

and finally, in the end, Glinda didn't want Elphaba to lose everything she has ever dreamt of and wanted her to apologise to the Wizard, She truly wanted Elphaba to find her place in the world, And for everyone to see her the way Glinda sees her and how she deserves love, Even though she knew she got everything she wanted instead of her

Ending up to be the only one who mourns her cuz she knew that Elphaba was the one who deserved to be called "The Good"

"It just shows when you're wicked, you're left only on your own"

Glinda was singing it for herself.

WICKED (2024) — dir. Jon M. Chu

[moonlightdreamzz]

Moments of Praise — Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon.

bangchan and felix

GENRE. pureeeeee smut. freaky hours. 18+

AUTHORS NOTE. i am ovulating, so either im sorry or you’re welcome :)

Good girls get whatever they want—and you’re the greatest.

jungwon

you love so many things. you love tequila, you love cool sheets, you love the spring—the list goes on and on. but recently, someone asked you what do you love most? in the moment, you couldn’t make a decision because how could you choose? but right now, as jungwon’s hands are gripped around your neck—not tight enough to hurt you, but strong enough to remind you he owns you, and he’s stroking in and out of you—refusing the break eye contact not even for a second, you realize this is what you love most in this world.

he’s always so damn cocky when he’s fucking you, because he knows how amazing he makes you feel, everytime. he knows what you want—but he cares more about what you need. and you earned the di*k you’re getting right now.

he’s so drunk off your p*ssy, but that’ll never wipe the sly smirk off his face. all this, because you were so patient all day, and the cherry on top was you helping an elderly woman carry her groceries to her car. because that’s the kind of boyfriend you have—one that got so turned on at you being good.

you can’t form a proper sentence. that’s how good it feels. and he’s loving every second of it. you’re trying so hard, and all he can do is mock you—mimicking every expression you make to verbally tell him thank you. and he’s going exactly how you love it,—love him. slow and steady.

“i know baby, i know.” he utters. “daddy is fucking you so good, isn’t he? mhm.” a whimper slips out of his pretty lips, which only adds onto your incoming orgasm.

“baby—“ you finally manage to get our “why do you—always—fuck me so goooood. oh my—“ you wanted so badly to finish, but he clearly likes you like this. slutted out and unable to focus. only able to feel him and everything he’s doing to you. his free hand places itself on your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it. as if the pleasure you were already feeling wasn’t good enough for jungwon.

“good girls, deserve good dick. and you, baby?” he chuckles before biting his lip and looking at you as if your hole is the best thing since sliced bread, “you’re such a good fucking good girl. so fucking patient. so kind. this pussy is everything I’ve ever wanted in life. you’re so fucking wet. so fucking good—ah.”

“its too good, daddy. i can’t take it. i can’t.” you’re practically hyperventilating. you didn’t know anything could feel this good. you’re seeing stars and he’s living for it.

“who can’t take it? hm? you baby? because my girl can do anything she puts her mind to. so take this fucking dick.”

are his last words before you both cum all over the each-other.

jake

his members lay asleep, their faces—as well as his and yours glowing from the tv that’s still playing the movie jungwon chose earlier. to the naked eye, you and jake look like two people utterly in love, making deep eye contact because you’re so infatuated with each other. this isn’t wrong, but it also isn’t the reason why the two of you are staring at eachother in the dark.

the real reason, is because jake’s hands are buried deep in your panties, and he’s determined to make you cum in your jeans, infront of everyone. you knew at some point tonight he’d sneak you away to be inside you, but like this? but at the same time, you’d be lying if you said this isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever done. and you weren’t rude. you were raised to always be grateful for gifts.

he’s so fucking focused. and he’s doing so good. your eyes can’t figure out if they want to be open or closed and you wish you could grind in his hand, but that would wake somebody up. there’s a part of you that wants to stop him because of the way your body reacts when you or**sm, but as always, your boyfriend is two steps ahead of you.

“i need you to.” he utters, nothing short of desperation resting on his eyes. “I won’t stop until you do.”

all you can do is nod, because you’re so close. that doesn’t stop his mouth from running.

“yeah.” he assures you—his aussie accent thick. “you’re so wet, baby. and that makes me so happy.” he places your hand on his length, that is rock solid. “you like the fact that they can see you if they wanted, don’t you? i know i do.” “can’t wait to make you lick it off my fingers.” “wake em up baby. wake em up baby.” he grunts, resting his forehead on yours but eyes refusing to disconnect. you practically burst all over his fingers, your body is shaking, and you can’t help but hit his arm over and over because fuck you, jake. now.

sunghoon

sunghoon is so full of himself. he does what he wants, when he wants, and if the world isn’t revolving around him? then the world must’ve vanished. and he’s no different right now—arms tucked cockily behind his head while you bounce up and down on his length. the only thing he’s wearing is a smug look on his face, as if to say—of course the second I called, you answered. and of course, the minute I told you to strip and cum all over me, you went straight to work. because I own you and everyone else.

“i fucking hate you.” you moan loudly. but you don’t. and he knows you don’t too. that’s why all he does he chuckle in a seductive tone before whispering, “i love you too, baby.”

when he confesses his love for you, whether it’s real love behind the words or not, it always puts you in a mode. like you have to show him that if he doesn’t, he’s about to. “you love me?” you whisper, your pleading eyes turning into something much more devious. your bouncing turns for his pleasure and his eyes widen in disbelief of how amazing you feel and look right now.

“mhm.” he nods aggressively. you increase your speed and the intensity of each movement.

“you fucking love me?” you question again—laughing at him now.

it was like he was losing consciousness the way his eyes couldn’t hold still but his body was frozen from the pleasure. “yesss—oh, baby. ugh.”

“tell me why you love me.” you demand.

“becau—because you’re so pretty. and you always make daddy feel so good! your pu**y—baby please. mmm always so wet and—tight. make me cum please please please. i love you so much. please I’ll do anything for it please don’t stop!” he squeals out, before shooting his seed inside you.

[seancekitsch]

Can I request Jayvik x Reader? I'm so excited you want to write for Arcane

another little shortie but i like this dynamic 💖

Jayce hums a happy tune despite his lateness, excited that today was going to be the beginning of a new project in the lab. He knew that Viktor and you were already at the lab setting things up, having gotten up way earlier than him this morning. But even with his lateness, he has treats. For you there’s a garlic bagel with chive and onion cream cheese and a hot cup of tea, for Viktor a chocolate croissant and some sweet milk, and for himself an iced mocha and bacon egg and cheese on an biscuit with hot sauce. He shifts the bag under his cup carrier, yanking the door open with a free hand as he concludes his song, ready for the greeting and praise the two of you will give him when he shows off the breakfast haul.

Only, he’s not greeted with hugs or loud greetings or praise for remembering everyone’s breakfast order. Instead he hears hushed voices, quiet moans coming from the far side of the room.

Viktor has you on his lap, your cardigan discarded on his desk as he presses sloppy kisses to your neck.

“Right there?” he asks you, and then dives back in, Jayce can see that with this kiss his tongue even darts out to lick at your pulse point. You encourage him with a moan, throwing your head back.

“Should I be jealous?” Jayce speaks up, placing the food and drinks on one of the tables as he steps forward. You dont break away from Viktor or his kisses, but you do call out his name, an excited moan of a noise that beckons him closer. You unwrap one of your arms from Viktor, holding it out until Jayce reaches out to grab it, and you easily pull him in closer to the embrace.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Viktor explains, his lips wet and shining in the lamp light, “So I started conducting my own little experiment. You see, I wanted to find out what spots made her… react the most.”

“Wanna test his hypothesis?” you ask, and then your lips press against his thumb, kissing from the base to the tip , letting the his thumb rest on your bottom lip. Jayce knows this game of yours, and plays along gladly, pressing his thumb past your teeth, letting it settle on your tongue. Greedily, you start sucking on his thumb as Viktor goes back to attacking your neck, no doubt leaving marks on your pretty skin. It’s almost too much already for Jayce, who wishes neither of you had left the apartment this morning so that you could continue this on the nice fluffy bedding instead of Viktor’s desk. Either way, Jayce practically short circuits when you hollow out your cheeks around his thumb, locking eyes with him as if daring him.

Jayce pulls you up from Viktor’s lap then, his earlier guess correct as you cry out when Viktor’s teeth graze your neck a little too harshly at the action, and Jayce takes the time to kiss you deeply. His tongue is quick to slide between the seam of your lips, hot and hungry and still tasting of the sip of mocha he had on the way over. You kiss back eagerly, but you always do, always showering your men in endless affection and attention. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull on the shorter strands at the base of his skull, everything to work him up but—

“Wait! Shit,” Jayce pulls back from you as a string of mumbled expletives leave his mouth, “breakfast is gonna get cold if we don’t eat it quick.”

He grabs the bag and passes out each of your items, and you follow suit to grab yours and Viktor’s drinks to bring back to the desk, taking your seat back on Viktor’s lap.

“Oh Jay, you shouldn’t have!” you tell him, “my breath is gonna be so stinky after this!”

“Eh, I like it,” Viktor shrugs, and the two of you look at him as if he’s gone mad.

“What? It is… endearing. It is your stink,” he explains, and unwraps his chocolate croissant before either of you can respond.

“So we’re gonna continue this little experiment after we fuel up?” Jayce asks, taking a seat on top of the desk.

“As long as both of you take extensive notes,” you tell him, and both of your men agree to that.

[just-some-random-blogger]

YOU ALWAYS GOT ME CURLING MY TOES KICKING MY FEET SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

🧍‍♀️ ???? This rat really acting like it was a coincidence when he nearly yanked my soul out my skeleton hello???? He's so stupid

I'm tryna be ur wife fool

He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

THAT SHOULD BE ME

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

WARN ME EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY EXISTENCE

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

I fuckin knew I would forget the context of this... Gimme a sec... OH NVM I REMEMBER FUCK IM SO DUMB YEAH YOU AND ME BOTH BESTIE HELLO

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

Literally me (I hate this gif I am legally obligated to say how much I hate it but equally find it hilllllllarrrious mdkdkdkksk)

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

IMPURE THOUGHTS ONLY. I LITERALLY WENT I WILL LIKE HIM LIKE A LOLLIPOP FRESHLY SHOWERED JUST TO GET HIM DIRTY PLEASE I WANT HIM SO BAD

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

🧍‍♀️😭✋ he is an icon. he is the moment. HES SO FUNNY. GEORGE IS GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU THOUGH BUT YOU DID IT FOR THE COMEDY

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

We ain't leaving till our skins wrinkly as fuckkkkk HAHAHAHHAH

“You little minx.” He grabbed you off the bench and into his still damp chest, kissing you fiercely. “I was just about to come see you,” he said between sloppy kisses, backing you against a row of lockers.

I WILL LITERALLY GIVE HIM HIS OWN QUIDDITCH TEAM. MOLLY WEASLEY AINT GOT NOTHING ON ME

Your stomach dropped, indignation at Woods words colliding with the newfound guilt in your mind. George loved Quidditch. You didn't want to be the reason he wasn't playing well. But also…what if that meant Quidditch was higher priority to him? Where did that leave you?

Honestly me at Oliver: (the crowd goes fucking mild)

How does he think not dating will help? The call of a man who's never felt the touch of a woman

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

😭CON😭GRA😭TU😭LA😭TIONS😭 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY LIFE

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

A deafening crack sounded from across the pitch and you both startled, turning back towards the match. A bludger was barreling straight towards your section. You screamed as it slammed into the post less than half a meter from Gus' head, ripping through the wood with a resounding boom and scattering splinters across the section.

BROOOOOOOOOOO GEORGE OUT FOR BLOOD HES LEGIT ALMOST KILLED A MAN INSANE BEHAVIOR HELLO?????

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

AND THATS ON PERIODT. MY MANNNNNNNNNNNN IS THAT GWORL

“Are you questioning my aim?”

GAGO KA GEORGE GEORRGGEEEE IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT YOU HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL GAGO

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

I WANT HIM

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

I wish he was real ): (he's real to me)

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

BEAUTIFUL STUNNING GORGEOUS LOVELY UGHHHHHH 100000000000/10

Hii there!! Can you write something about George Weasley where he and the reader have been really good friends for a while but start secretly dating because of some stupid rule like quidditch players can’t date during the season or something like that? And they get caught by their friends being intimate after a game?

Ps: love your writing style so much, your fics are so easy to get into and beautifully written💕

thank you for the request! hope your enjoy 🫶

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

| George Weasley x fem!reader

cw: light smut (heavy petting/making out), sneaking around/secret relationship, jealous!george, assault via bludger, oliver wood is a cock block.

MDNI 18+

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You were walking down the hall with Luna, chatting about the results your divination exam, when a hand shot out and yanked you into a dark, empty classroom.

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

“You can't just kidnap me, Weasley.” You cross your arms over your chest, jutting out a hip.

“Kidnapping is a bit dramatic.” George’s hands slide around your waist. “Can't a bloke want to spend a few moments with his girl?” He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

You craned your head back for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Perhaps. But still, some warning would be nice.”

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

You breathed a content sigh, taking your fingers through his ginger hair while he peppered featherlight kisses along your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. The last few weeks had been so challenging thanks to Woods new rule about dating during Quidditch season.

You and George had been circling one another since fourth year, waiting for the right moment to dip your toes into something more than friendship. And of course, when the stars finally aligned, Wood had to throw a wrench in your new relationship. So now, instead of basking in your honeymoon phase, you were forced to sneak around, hiding your relationship from everyone.

But Fred, obviously. George couldn't lie to his twin even if he wanted to.

“You're in your head, darling,” George murmured, pulling back to look at your face in the dim light.

“Am not,” you argued, dragging your hands down his chest and sliding them under his robes. The sweater beneath was soft and thick, warm from his body heat.

“What are you thinking about?” He kissed your temple, across your cheekbone, beneath your ear…

You hummed, leaning into him, soaking up his heat, his unhurried affection.

“Love?” He prodded, nipping at your ear.

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

A smile spread across his freckled face. “My sweet girl,” he cooed. “I like you too.”

You pressed your lips to his, brushing your tongue along his lower lip, and his hands tightened on your waist. He parted his lips for you to delve deeper, matching every stroke of your tongue with his until you were panting, clawing at his sweater to get closer.

He backed you against a desk, his hand sliding under your skirt to squeeze your ass, notching your hips against his. A gasp squeaked for your throat when he ground himself against you, already growing sensitive.

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

You nodded, clamping your lips shut.

The Quidditch season was only three months. How hard could it be?

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Quidditch practice ran late for the third night in a row, and you were desperate for some attention from your boyfriend.

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

But player after player trailed out of the locker room, and no George. You were getting impatient, shifting form foot to foot when you spotted Fred walking with Ron, chatting animatedly about the match this weekend.

You grabbed Fred’s wrist and yanked him to the corridor you were hiding.

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

“Ew, Fred! No! Where's George?”

Fred snickered. “Still in the shower. Pitch was muddy and he got a face full from Thomas.”

You grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

You scampered down the corridor and into the locker room, following the trail of steam until you found the only drawn curtain. George was humming to himself, tapping his feet on the tile floor.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid laughing and ruining the surprise, and perched on the bench across from the curtain to wait.

A few moments later, the water cut off and his hand poked through the curtain, grabbing the red towel off the hook.

The curtain ripped open, and George yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the towel slung low around his hips.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You grinned.

“You little minx.” He grabbed you off the bench and into his still damp chest, kissing you fiercely. “I was just about to come see you,” he said between sloppy kisses, backing you against a row of lockers.

“Were you?” You giggled as his lips moved down your neck, sending tingles skittering across your skin. You dragged your nails cross his bare back, admiring the way his muscles jumped at your touch.

“Couldn't stand another night without you,” he admitted. He started undoing the buttons of your blouse, clearly feeling as desperate as you did based on the tent in his towel.

“Eager, are we?” You teased, hiking your leg over his hip as his hand slid into your skirt.

His middle finger swiped through your slit, teasing your clit with small circles. Pleasure pulsed through you, making your eyes roll back. “Someone is. Already soaked for me, love,” he groaned, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss as he toyed with you.

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Merlin, I missed you.”

“Weasley, you still in here?” Wood called his voice echoing around room.

“Bloody fucking—stall, now.” George slipped his fingers from you and into his mouth, ushering you into the shower stall he just vacated. The air was still humid and scented by his vanilla body wash. No, your vanilla body wash, you realized, spotting the bottle you'd been missing still sitting on the shelf.

“Still hangin’ around, Wood?” You heard George say.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about somethin’,” Oliver said, and you saw his boots enter the shower room from under the curtain.

“Can I put trousers on first?”

Oliver snorted. “Sure, mate.”

You heard George shuffling around, pulling on his clothes.

“Fucking trousers don't hide shit,” he grumbled to himself and you had a stifle another laugh. “Alright, Wood. What's on your mind?”

“You've been distracted, Weasley. Missing bludgers, ignoring plays, it's not like you to not take Quidditch seriously,” Oliver said, and you frowned.

George sighed. “It's, ah, there's an assignment in Herbology that's gone tits up. Damn plant won't grow,” George said.

“Uh huh,” Wood answered, clearly not buying it. “Well, maybe it's time your sort out your priorities, mate. Not sure a plant is worth throwing the season, if ya’ know what I mean. We need our best Beater, yeah?”

Your stomach dropped, indignation at Woods words colliding with the newfound guilt in your mind. George loved Quidditch. You didn't want to be the reason he wasn't playing well. But also…what if that meant Quidditch was higher priority to him? Where did that leave you?

“Understood, Captain.” George's voice was cold, a stark contrast to his usual chipper demeanor, and it raised goosebumps along your arms.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder and left the locker room, evidently oblivious to the shift in George. The door clicked shut behind him, echoing around the empty room.

George tugged the shower curtain open, startling you from your spiralling thoughts. He immediately clocked the distress on your face, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “Oh, lovey—”

“I didn't know I was impacting the team,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

George tilted your chin up, his other arm wrapping around your waist. “Baby, the teams fine. Wood just has a stick up his ass. I played great today, and always do when you're in the stands watching me.”

It was true. Some of his best games had been in the last month you'd been together.

“And besides, I don't need to sort out my priorities.” He bumped his nose against yours. “You always come first, y/n.”

Your heart soared, heat creeping up your neck. “Before Quidditch?” You asked, curling your hands into his hoodie.

“Before everything.” He kissed you softly, with no real pressure, just feeling you against him, and all your anxiety fell away. “C’mon, Freddie's going to a Hufflepuff party tonight, so we've got my dorm to ourselves.”

You kissed him again, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Brooms whizzed over your house’s section, whipping your scarf around your head.

“Go George!” You cheered, when he drifted nearby, twirling the bat in his gloved hand.

He flashed you a wink before banking left, whacking the snot out of bludger that was hurdling straight for Ron. It rocketed across the pitch and directly into the other houses Seeker, giving Harry the advantage.

“Woohoo!” You cheered with the rest of the student body. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

“Good game, aye?” A guy sidled up next you, leaning against the railing. You sort of recognized him from your Potions class, but couldn't be sure.

“Great game,” you replied, turning your attention back to the match and your boyfriend.

“Are you fan? Of Quidditch, I mean?”

“Mhmm—go Ron!” You cheered, tuning him out.

“I'm Gus, by the way. We're in the same Potions class?”

“Hi, Gus.” You give him a tight smile, hoping he takes the hint.

“Y’know, maybe we could study together sometime. Merlin knows Potions isn't my strong suit, but you seem pretty smart—”

“Get after it, Harry!” You roared as the Seeker flew overhead, the snitch just a few feet out in front of him.

“What do you think, y/n?” Gus prodded.

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

Gus’ smile faltered. “Well, what about the next match, then? Maybe we could sit together.” He scooted closer you, infringing on your already limited space.

You squirmed closer to your friend on the other side of you, who was too wrapped up in the match to notice your discomfort. “No thanks, Gus.”

“Oh, c’mon. I promise I'm a nice guy.” He dropped his hand on your knees, and you wrenched yourself away.

“Don't fucking touch me—”

A deafening crack sounded from across the pitch and you both startled, turning back towards the match. A bludger was barreling straight towards your section. You screamed as it slammed into the post less than half a meter from Gus' head, ripping through the wood with a resounding boom and scattering splinters across the section.

You jumped back, falling into your friends laps, and Gus shrieked like a banshee, his face blanching white at how close it had come to taking his head clean off his shoulders.

An ear-splitting whistle interrupted the resulting chaos.

“Weasley, out!” Madame Hootch hollered.

You straightened in alarm, finding George hovering at the center of the pitch, his bat gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes were locked on Gus, dark and smug, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“George, land!” Wood bellowed, and George finally floated back to earth. You could hear Oliver shouting, but couldn't see George from your seat.

You fought your way out of the stands, trying to push your way towards the locker room.

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

Your mind raced from the adrenaline. Did George do it on purpose? And if he did, why would he jeopardize the match like that?

You found him in the locker room, undoing the ties on his robe. He was still in his uniform, sweaty and smeared with dirt, his hair flat from the helmet.

“George,” you said, and he looked up.

“Love, what are you doing down here?” He frowned, reaching for you, but you held your ground, crossing your arms over your chest. His frown deepened.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You demanded.

“Of course I did,” he responded, not a trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Why? They won't win without you!”

“I don't care about the bloody match, y/n.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

George walked over to you, cradling your face in his gloved hands. “That guy was bothering you, yeah?”

You almost denied it, but found yourself nodding, unable to lie to him.

“And you thought I was going to sit back and let someone make you uncomfortable? My girl? Fuck no.”

You giggled, his protectiveness spurring a wave of affection and dissolving your anger. “I think nearly killing him was a bit much,” you snickered.

“Are you questioning my aim?”

“Just your sanity.”

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

You swatted his hands away before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for kiss. He tasted of salt and peppermints, his skin smelling of turf and fresh air, with a hint of that masculine musk that made your head go a little fuzzy.

He kissed you back, catching your lower lip between his teeth and sucking gently. You moaned against him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and taste you.

“I'm done hiding,” he murmured when you both came up for air. “And Wood can bugger off.”

The mixing shouting of the crowd filled the quiet air around you. “Ravenclaw scores another twenty points!” Lee declared, his voice notably unenthused.

George shook his head with a smug chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours. “See? They need me.”

“Weasley!” Oliver shouted, startling you both. George looked up, tightening his grip around you. Oliver didn't even bother to act surprised. “You're back in,” he sighed.

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

“Good man,” he replied, dropping a peck onto your lips before doing his helmet and running back out onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd.

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Thank you so much for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie