#like the sheer relief 😭😭😭😭

[transfaggot]

damn this is the first time in over a month that I’ve woken up w no lower back pain 😳😳😳 PT really does work

[jtownraindancer]

Sergeant Detective William "Bill" Blore and The Audacity of These People

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 16 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: hello loves!! I can’t believe we’ve already come to the end of this series😭 thank you guys so so much for all the love you’ve sent my work and efforts!! Love y’all so much, enjoy reading- and stay tuned for my future fics 🤍🩷

W/C: 4.025

part fifteen

I sigh for the millionth time today, leaning back against the backrest of my chair. I rub my wrists, massaging my fingers and knuckles, groaning in relief when I hear some of them pop.

There were only a handful of matches left in the league, along with the Champions League final. The entire PR and marketing department had been working overtime for a couple days now, wanting to end the season on a high note.

I was so tired and stressed out, internally debating whether to call in sick tomorrow, but there was no way the team could finish all of this without my help.

Since my role in the department has gotten much more important this season, I needed to attend more meetings and calls with a lot of different people.

Never in my life, had I exercised my social skills this much, and it was only a matter of time before my social battery ran so low that I couldn't take interacting with people anymore, without looking like a total jerk.

Though, the generous paycheck that dropped into my back account every month, motivated me to work harder, well, sometimes..

I shift from my position, grabbing a single pen from its holder. Looking back up to my laptop to write down some refreshing and creative questions for the upcoming, very important and widely viewed interviews.

Winning both the national league and the Champions League in the exact same season would be absolutely insane to witness.

I had experienced the feeling in my first season working at the club. After almost three years of getting to know the team and the players who had come and gone, this year would feel even more special.

I had grown closer to the club, not just as an employee but as a supporter as well. I had multiple personal and dear connections with the club.

My father had just renewed his contract with the club. A topic that everyone working for respective companies joked about was the possibility of the agreement not being renewed.

After all these years, both companies had become synonymous with each other.

I had also gotten closer to my colleagues, much closer than I would've ever imagined. Starting this job as an eighteen-year-old, I was incredibly intimidated by the sheer size of the operations behind the scenes.

Of course, juggling both working here and studying for my law degree was hard at first. Work in the morning had switched to the evening when attending the matches.

Study breaks consisting of trying to figure out what interview questions were rubbish and needed to be scrapped, and packing my little suitcase for another trip, only to overpack again.

Thankfully, I had gotten all of my results back from this school year, and I was absolutely over the moon knowing I'd be going for my next year of my degree after summer break.

All my hard work had finally paid off when I saw my grades, and I had celebrated it that night- with working…

The biggest change in my life?

That was the fact that I had actually found love.

Going from hating each other to loving each other was a weird feeling. Even so, Jude and I had been together for almost six months now, and honestly speaking; I had never felt so loved by anyone in the entire world before.

We supported each other wholeheartedly, and it was definitely easier to do than other couples.

Mostly, because we worked together.

Living together for the first few weeks of our relationship, definitely sped up the process of actually getting to know each other. It bonded us faster than I would’ve ever expected.

Looking back, it's difficult to even imagine a world where Jude never moved into my place..

Jude had moved out of my house in the middle of March. He had changed houses following everything that had happened the last few months.

The new house is quite far away from the old, temporary house he lived in, that got broken into. The home was spacious and modern, just like I'd expected before visiting for the first time.

My father and his partners at his firm, had finally built up a proper case to take the intruder to court. I didn't know the specifics because, for some reason I wasn’t allowed to, by both my own father and Jude.

I already knew that the man who had caused so much chaos wasn't getting off the hook easily, and that was enough for me. Knowing any more details about the situation, would probably cause me more stress and anxiety, so I had just learnt to let it go.

I couldn't even lie, lately I had spent more time at Jude’s place than my own. There was something so comforting about it, maybe it was how inviting and cozy it felt.

His friends from England and Germany would always be over, for the simplest of reasons.

Playing games, both board and video ones, watching new movies in the unnecessary, huge cinema room. It created a very fun and friendly atmosphere and made me feel more comfortable than ever.

Jude’s parent’s presence, especially his mother’s- was very much appreciated. I loved chatting to her, from the most mundane things, to the things that I was worried about.

Just like the other women in my life, she gave me guidance and encouragement to keep on going and be even better at anything I wanted to accomplish.

Obviously, there was no way we could keep on hiding our relationship from certain teammates Jude was very close with. We'd decided to be open with them, because keeping a 'secret' from them wouldn't exactly give us peace of mind in the long run.

Scratching what I've written down so far, I drop my pen onto the desk. Glancing up at the clock to check the time, and gasping softly when I remember I have a meeting that starts in a minute.

I quickly grab the necessary paperwork, and dash out of the office. Into the meeting room, already full of my coworkers, sat waiting only for me..

"Okay, I'm really confused. Do I have something on my face? Like sauce from lunch or something?" The puzzled y/n asks, turning around in her office chair, only to glance at the busy Lina.

"Uh.." The older woman begins, looking up from her monitor and shaking her head.

"Nope, no sauce. Why?" Lina takes her hand off the computer mouse, sighing before leaning back.

"Everyone has been looking at me, like since- this morning.." y/n rolls her chair forward, holding out her foot, to stop herself from violently slamming into Lina's desk.

"You think? I thought it was because your dress looked cute.."

Lina smirks at her own words, her hand reaching over to grab her purple water bottle, swiftly taking the top off and chugging a couple gulps.

y/n scoffs, glancing down at the dress she's wearing. Yes, of course the dress is cute, that's why she wore it today. But the stares she got were definitely not in appreciation of the cream-colored dress.

"Are you serious? I don't think-"

She's cut off by a loud knock. Both women break eye contact, looking up at the glass doors where someone is standing in front of.

"Jude?" y/n perks up, standing up from her chair and making a beeline towards him. Ignoring the unnecessarily loud and teasing whistle leaving Lina's mouth.

Stepping outside, she furrows her brows, looking around for anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Follow me.." Jude can only say, immediately starting to walk down the stairs without sparing another second.

"What are you-" She trails off, sighing in defeat, before following him down, into one of the empty meditation rooms.

She looks at Jude as he locks the door behind them, his hand immediately reaching to wrap around her waist. He pulls her closer than ever, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Something wrong?" She asks, picking up on his stressed out demeanor. Pulling back, she scans his face once again.

"I have to show you something, but don't freak out, yeah? I called your dad already, and he said he'll see what he can do.."

This only sends her into a panic, his warning going over her head as she watches him pull his phone out of his pocket. Arms flexing underneath his training jacket as he moves.

She looks at him with a confused frown on her face, her eyes almost popping out of her head when Jude shows what was so important.

Grabbing the phone out of his hand without thinking, she brings the device closer to her face. A small noise of annoyance leaving her mouth.

It's all photos of the couple, outside during various times they had been on dates for the past- six months.

"This one's from Valencia, and this one's from that night in Mallorca?!" y/n exclaims, hands shaking as she tries to scroll through the other photos. All off guard pictures of them, taken while they were out together, after matches, and even on dates in Madrid.

Noticing how distressed the photos make his girlfriend, Jude grabs his phone out of her hand. Setting it down on the table next to him, he grabs onto her shoulders, making her look up at him.

"It's okay, we prepared for this, remember? I won't let my team put out a statement, apart from legal action. Your dad's handling it with my team, okay?" He brings her frazzled form into a reassuring hug, planting kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

Of course, just like her boyfriend explains- they knew their relationship couldn't be kept secret for much longer. Jude, being the high profile football player he is, couldn't exactly keep people from prying into his private life.

She knew that the media had caught a whiff of her, even back when they despised each other. The night at Wembley Stadium months ago, had caused a little commotion back then.

The gossip pages and newspapers loved a story containing love, a successful and beloved young man, and not to forget- her having actual connections to the club in both work, and her father's partnership with the club.

To the couple, when they entered the training center or the stadium, they would work at that particular day- it was about work and work only.

When they clocked in, they prioritized working. It would've obviously been very difficult for them to keep their relationship on the low- if they glanced at each other every damn second, while in the same room.

During working hours, they'd greet each other like their other colleagues, acting like they didn't make out the night before in his room.

Unavoidably, the players who knew about them dating, would try their best to sneak little jokes and teases in. The couple would successfully brush off the comments.

Practicing all these months made the perfect facade, but sometimes the jokes were too good not to chuckle, at least very discreetly.

"Okay, I trust you.." She mutters, pressing her face into her chest, a soft hum leaving her mouth. Thoughts and worries swirling through her mind.

"Baby! I'm ready!" I shout, almost falling flat on my face while pulling on my new heels.

These red bottoms were absolute hell to wear, especially since I had just gotten them as a gift, from Jude.

It would take some time before I could break them in, but with how stunning they looked paired with this dress, it was worth the pain, at least tonight.

To celebrate winning the league, Jude and I were finally going on a date. It had been a while since we had been on a proper date night, mostly due to how busy we both have been lately.

Jude with training and I with preparing everything, from interviews to social media posts, and even some press releases that needed to be out before the Champions League final that was in a couple days.

"I'm here.." I walk out of his bedroom, chuckling at the sheer amount of my clothes stuffed in his closet.

We had been staying over at each other's place on and off, but looking at both our closets, you'd think we'd been living together again.

Considering how important the past few weeks had been, Jude had been training a lot. I was especially worried about him and his health, mainly thinking of his shoulder injury.

His doctor and the team's physiotherapist had reassured me personally, but still, I could help but wince every time he touched his shoulder and grunted. Or seeing the multiple, pain-stopping injections, he had to take to play a full ninety minutes.

"You look handsome.." I mutter when reaching the front door, pressing a kiss onto his plump lips, my hands reaching to fix the collar of his button down. My lipgloss leaving a sheen of glitter on his lips, it making me chuckle as he gave me a dumbfounded look.

We’re fairly young, and early in our relationship, we realized that fancy dates weren't really our thing. But tonight was one of the few occasions we'd go all out, and dress up very nicely.

"You look absolutely stunning, love.." He smiles, his hand circling around my waist and down my back, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.

"Thank you, baby.." I hum, giving him a small wink. A loud chuckle leaves my lips as he attempts to wink back, though, just like every time, it looks like he's got something in his eyes, instead of being cheeky.

"What's so funny, hm?" Jude questions, hands trailing down to grip at my bum, squeezing slightly.

"Mhm, nothing.." I say, reaching up to fix his hair a little. "Should we leave? It's getting late.."

He agrees instantly, and I wrap my arm around his as we walk out of his house. The sun hadn't set yet, mostly because summer was coming soon, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the weather this year, yet again.

"Wait- I didn't grab my keys.." I gasp, eyes going wide as I watch him pull the door shut.

"Oh, you're definitely not driving missy, especially not in those heels.." Jude says, giving me a cheeky smile, and I can immediately sense that he is hiding something.

"You got your license?!" I beam, eyes glistening in happiness. Though, my excitement is cut short when he shakes his head, an embarrassed look on his face.

"No, I did not get my license.."

"Oh.." I say, the corners of my mouth twitching as I hold back a menacing laugh.

"So, you'll be my passenger prince forever?" I bring my hand up to grab onto his bicep, squeezing the muscles as my body leans against his.

"Will you ever stop saying that?" I watch his lips move, eyes glimmering when his lips pull into a slight pout.

"When you get your license, sir. I'll stop calling you my passenger prince..."

"I'm sure you would like a break from it then.." Jude says, his expression changing to a smug one within a split-second, and I follow his lead without thinking.

My uncomfortable heels click against the concrete as Jude leads me outside the gates of the house, a sleek black Rolls Royce parked right in front of the driveway.

"You got a driver for tonight?" I ask, eyes fixated on the, admittedly sexy car.

"Going all out for my lovey tonight. I've got to spoil my girl, always.."

I grin at his sweet words, warmth reaching my face, and I suddenly feel shyness creeping up on me. I shift my gaze for a second, avoiding eye contact with him and staring at the concrete.

"Aw, is my pretty girl shy now? You weren't like this a moment ago, huh?" A soft noise of protest leaves my mouth at the loving words. My breath hitching as he presses a kiss on my neck, right against my jugular.

"Come on, love. We'll be very late to our reservation if I keep you here longer.." Jude gives me a charming smile, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me towards the car, making me forget whatever my thoughts were before he'd made my heart flutter.

"I'm sweating literal buckets. I can't even breathe properly right now.." My eyes immediately shift to Luis, my right eye twitching, just like it has been on and off this entire day. The stress and anxiety of this all had been building up in us both, causing actual physical symptoms to show.

"Ask me about it, I went peeing two times already, and we're just seventy minutes into this match.." I say, wiping my sweaty hands down my black jeans. The laptop and phone on my lap shaking, as I bounce my knee up and down in anticipation.

My heart also leaped in my throat every time Jude got fouled. Checking the stats confirmed my suspicion, he currently is the most fouled player on the pitch.

I obviously knew it was a part of the game, but considering his injury- I couldn't help but be worried.

"Fuck, I swear if we score, I'm going to lose my shit." Luis says, running a hand through his curly hair, and I can almost feel the nerves radiating off of him.

Well, all 90.000 people in Wembley Stadium feel the exact same way right now. From supporters to chairmen of both respective clubs, sitting on the edge of their seats as we all watched the Champions League final between Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund unfold, live in front of our own two eyes.

My breath hitches in my throat as we're given a corner. The grip on my phone getting tighter as Luis glances at me.

"Okay, we got this, Toni's so experienced-"

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus.." I exclaim, grabbing onto Luis' shoulder to calm him down.

"You can't exactly focus with 90,000 people screaming.." He replies, glancing at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but decide to spare my breath, and stop breathing in anticipation.

Right, at that moment, Toni kicks the ball from the corner flag, it flies upwards as we watch both our players and Dortmund players scramble in front of the goal.

Finally, Dani jumps up and GOALLLL!!

The entire Madridista side jumps up in celebration, my devices almost slipping out of my hand and onto the floor as we jump up to cheer as loud as we can.

"I'm going to kiss Dani's forehead after this!" Luis screams, making me choke on my laughter. I hurry up and return my attention back to my devices, as happy as we were, we still had our job to do and execute.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down, before we both go back to doing our jobs.

Our wishes and prayers for a second goal aren't that far away, time-wise. Dortmund player Maatsen tries passing the ball, due to a wrong estimation, Jude gets the ball instead, shooting to Vini.

He goes on to score the second banger of the night. The stadium erupts in both cheers of happiness and screams of protest.

It's even louder than after the first goal, and we know it's only a matter of five minutes before our boys secure the victory over this season's Champions League..

y/n fixes her shirt for the nth time, trying to fidget with something before she loses her mind. Standing in the tunnel, she glances at Luis. Both of their eyes glimmering, as they wait for the families of the players to enter the pitch to celebrate the win.

They were insanely busy with handling their work, channelling their emotions into doing their job, to make sure it's all taken care of before they were done for the night. The automated system, consisting of already edited work, would take care of the rest from now on...

"Dude, what just happened?.." Luis whispers, glancing at the equally mesmerized girl next to him.

"We won!" She squeals, letting her excitement and happiness show as she hugs Luis. "Fuck, I don't even know what I would do if we lost. I'd actually be having a breakdown right now.."

Luis hugs her back, patting her head affectionately.

"You've worked very hard, y/n. Thank you for being my best friend and best colleague.." He says, giving her a brotherly smile.

"Thank you too, older brother.." She laughs, voice slightly teasing, as she pats his shoulder.

"Oh, I think we can join the celebrations.." He says, pointing to the families they’ve gotten very close with over the years.

The familiar faces joining their loved one on the pitch to celebrate this huge milestone in their careers.

"Come on.." Luis says, dragging her along and onto the pitch.

She looks around, a permanent smile plastered on her face as she's overwhelmed by the emotions running through her body.

"Dani!" Luis shouts, and y/n watches him run up to the goal scorer, just like his promise- Luis plants a fat kiss on the athlete's head.

y/n laughs loudly at the interaction, making eye contact with Dani’s wife, and laughing even harder at her confused expression.

She shakes her head at her best friend’s antics. Realizing she's alone now, she freezes. Cameras were absolutely everywhere at the moment, and she was absolutely sure at least one was pointed towards her.

The weeks following the photos of their dates being leaked were quite turbulent, with a lot of support, but also criticism- it was very difficult to ignore the reactions.

She wasn't anywhere close to wanting to be a public figure of some sort, so the attention was putting a lot of pressure on her.

But loving a star athlete, like Jude meant having to sacrifice some part of her privacy. If it meant she could run up to him now, and kiss his face a couple of times.

Then screw privacy, she'd throw that all away to get to him right now.

Her eyes darting to the rest of the enormous pitch again, frowning when she can't find the boy she's so desperately looking for.

Finally, after squinting a whole lot, and definitely causing damage to her eye muscles, she finally makes eye contact with the equally lost looking Jude.

He's standing in between both his parents, arms around them as he looks around wearily.

Jude's eyes immediately light up in relief when he spots y/n, mumbling something to his smiley parents before he makes a run for it.

Within seconds, he's by his girlfriend's side, and she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist in greeting. He pulls her flush against him in a tight embrace. y/n cups his jaw tenderly to place multiple kisses on his face.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby.." She breathes out, cut off as he presses his lips onto hers, exhilarating kiss that makes them forget other people are around, and especially the hundreds of cameras and phones filming the pitch.

He catches her lips, plump lips sucking onto her bottom lip before they're forced to pull back for air. They pant, faces warm, and cheeks hurting from how much they'd smiled within the past couple minutes.

"I'm proud of you too, baby. Come on, you're my family too. Forget about work and the cameras here for me, yeah?”

She plants her shoes back onto the grass when he lowers back on the floor. She looks down as he grabs onto her hand. Playing with her fingers as he makes eye contact with her.

Reaching up, she swipes at a piece of grass stuck on his temple, probably from being fouled earlier, she chuckles at the sight, biting her lip.

“Come on, then. Your parents are waiting..” She says, turning and dragging him along the pitch. Skipping towards his awaiting, happy parents. Who look at them with an infinite amount of joy and proudness in their eyes.

“He’s a winner! Jude’s our winner!!”

[awkward-walking-potato]

Can I request Gambit with a girlfriend who has chronic illness and tends to faint when she overworks herself? Would love some representation today ✌🏻😭💗

Prom Night Pressure

The gymnasium at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was slowly transforming into a magical prom venue under your watchful eye. You had been working tirelessly for weeks, determined to give the students an unforgettable night. Every detail mattered—from the color of the tablecloths to the playlist for the DJ—and you had taken it upon yourself to ensure everything was perfect.

But as the days wore on, the pressure began to mount. You barely slept, surviving on caffeine and sheer determination. The students were counting on you, and you couldn’t let them down.

Remy had been keeping an eye on you from a distance. He admired your dedication but was increasingly worried about how much you were pushing yourself. He’d tried to offer his help several times, but you always brushed him off with a tired smile, insisting you could handle it.

"Chère, you need to take a break," Remy had said just the night before, his voice laced with concern. "Ain’t no prom worth killin’ yourself over."

You had waved him off, laughing lightly. "I’m fine, Remy. I’ve got this."

But now, standing in the gym with the final touches still needing attention, your body was beginning to disagree. The edges of your vision blurred as you tried to focus on the checklist in your hand. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the dizziness.

Remy had just walked in, carrying a box of decorations, when he noticed you swaying on your feet. He set the box down quickly, his crimson eyes narrowing in concern as he approached you.

"Y/N, you alright?" His voice was a little sharper now, cutting through the haze that had settled over you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words never came. The checklist slipped from your fingers as your knees buckled, the world going dark around you.

Before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you. Remy’s heart skipped a beat as he pulled you close, his worry turning into full-blown fear.

"Chère!" he called out, gently patting your cheek, trying to rouse you. "Come on, wake up."

Your eyelids fluttered, and after a moment that felt like an eternity to him, you slowly regained consciousness. You found yourself cradled in Remy’s arms, his face hovering above yours, a mix of relief and worry etched into his features.

"Remy?" you mumbled, still disoriented.

"Yeah, it’s me," he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You fainted, chère. Been workin’ too hard."

You groaned, the realization of what had happened sinking in. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…"

"Hush now," Remy interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. "Ain’t nothin’ to apologize for. You’ve been burnin’ the candle at both ends, and your body just couldn’t keep up."

He helped you sit up slowly, keeping a steadying hand on your back. You leaned into him, still feeling a bit weak, but comforted by his presence.

"I just wanted everything to be perfect," you confessed quietly, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I didn’t want to let anyone down."

Remy’s heart ached seeing you like this. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. "You ain’t lettin’ no one down, Y/N. You’ve done more than enough. Now it’s time to let someone else take the reins for a bit, yeah?"

You nodded, too exhausted to argue. Remy gave you a small, encouraging smile before standing up and lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

"Let’s get you somewhere you can rest," he said, his voice soft. "And don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. I’ll make sure the prom goes off without a hitch."

As he carried you out of the gym, you finally allowed yourself to relax. You rested your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you.

Remy took you to one of the quiet rooms in the mansion, laying you down gently on the couch. He draped a blanket over you, tucking it in around your shoulders.

"Remy," you murmured, reaching out to take his hand before he could step away. "Thank you."

He squeezed your hand in return, his expression softening. "Anytime, chère. Now get some sleep, alright? I’ll be right here if you need me."

With his comforting presence by your side, you finally allowed your eyes to close, letting the exhaustion take over. As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Remy—for being there when you needed him most, and for reminding you that you didn’t have to do everything on your own.

And as Remy watched over you, he made a silent promise to himself: He would make sure that the prom was everything you wanted it to be, so that when you woke up, you’d see just how much everyone appreciated all your hard work.

[ariseur]

omgg cloud x reader where theyre at costa del sol… like how in rebirth hes super flustered seeing the cute bathing suits but he actually puts sunscreen on reader 😼😼😼 maybe leading to spice if ur comfy w it!!!

spot me some sunscreen? 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

cloud strife (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i originally wrote this as a blurb but i forgot like the entire sunscreen portion so it ended up being a whole fic instead 😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, nsfw / suggestive themes!!, i kinda wrote it with the reader wearing a more feminine bathing suit hope it’s okay!!, reader is referred to as clouds gf, cloud being awkward, readers lowkey a tease, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1644 words, 8930 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

walking out into the daylight was even enough for cloud. costa del sol was just so— lively. he sighed as he watched you, aerith, and tifa skip along to the dressing rooms, the two girls dragging you along by your wrists while you all giggled. he should’ve just insisted that they moved along like barret had said, he thought.

he kept his head down as waited for you near a corner, keeping his head hung low as he detested his swim trunks, cursing the sun for such a hot day.

it felt like forever before a faint, “cloud!” hit his ears. hearing your smile even evident in your voice, he turned his head to the shore as he spotted you under an umbrella, sat comfortably on a striped towel.

his eyes roamed your figure, unable to to give even a small wave back once he gawked at your bathing suit. your waist exposed with the top you wore, only the tied back visible to him while the coverup hugging against your hips, the sheer material revealing your bottoms underneath.

unsure of what to do, cloud looked around before he turned around and faced the other way, not wanting anybody to see his tinted ears. he closed his eyes, taking shade behind a small palm tree as he pretended he didn’t hear the soft footsteps against the sand approaching him.

“i know you hear me calling for you, y’know.” cloud heard you giggle behind him. as he turned around slowly, he finally got a good look at you. just the exposure of skin made his cheeks flush with an even brighter red, his ears an even deeper color.

making a sound of surprise at your advances, he awkwardly leaned back while you yourself leaned in and tilted your head. “well?”

“‘well’.. what?”

“are you gonna stop ignoring me?”

“i’m not—just..” his body tensed as his eyes kept managing to flicker over your body in their own, his eyes alternating between your face and your hips where he could see the skimpy bottoms you wore snug against you under the thin coverup.

you leaned in closer, hands behind you back as you flashed cloud a toothy grin. you watched as his wide eyes flickered down to your lips. he felt a small wave wash over him, his bare chest tensing at the gentle hand you put on it. crap, was he sweating?

your sweet smile didn’t help. his eyebrows furrowed, he knew what you were doing. you knew what you were doing. but he didn’t pay much mind to that when your honeyed voice chimed, “i’ll wait for you under the umbrella, okay?”

“okay.” he gulped, watching your hips sway as you made your way back to your original spot, meeting up with aerith as she gawked over your outfit. mako tinted eyes followed you until you were a distant figure, watching as you twirled and giggled with aerith.

cloud’s breathing became shallow as he sighed— unsure if it was a breath of relief or frustration. his eyes trailed downwards when he noticed his trunks got tighter, letting out an exasperated groan as he rushed to the nearest bathroom, eager to rush back to you after he’s done.

only then did he turn around and become face to face with tifa, red eyes crinkled in a teasing manner while she looked at him. “cloud—!” she sang— and if cloud could die right now, he would. “where you headed off to?”

“just the restroom.”

“didn’t i see you go a few minutes ago?”

he internally facepalmed, eyes drifting off to the side with uncertainty. what could he say to that? besides the next words that embarrassingly tumbled out of his mouth, “just a—small bladder, i guess.”

as if the quizzical look on tifa’s face wasn’t enough proof that she didn’t believe him, dragging him by the wrist certainly was. cloud stifled a sigh as the polyester of his trunks rubbed against him a little too much with an extra far step over a sand hole. he averted his gaze as he saw you and aerith chatting it up under the umbrella, bare legs splayed out before you as you listened to the calls of the sea.

“wow, cloud! nice outfit!” aerith cheers, turning towards cloud with an extended finger as she giggled. he watched as you turned around, lowering your sunglasses a bit as you gave him a smug half-grin. gulping, he opened his mouth again hesitantly to try his best to excuse himself once more, his problem growing more and more obvious with how long he stared at your exposed skin.

but before he could get a word out, he heard a cheery, “hey, tifa! i heard marlene saying something about wanting us to bring her back some seashells—! wanna go look for some?” and before cloud knew it, tifa and aerith ran along to the shore, eyes immediately keen on any glimmering seashells that stood out against the sun— leaving cloud with you.

poor boy didn’t get a chance to even get a word in before you flashed him a small smile and held up a white and blue bottle. he couldn’t even focus on a word you said when your gloss was shining so well with the fluidity of your lips, their languid movements dragging his attention away from the sound of your voice before he felt another wave wash over him. whether that was the suns fault or yours wasn’t specified in his mind before he noticed you had stopped talking.

“huh?” he asked.

your eyebrows furrowed as your smile grew wider. “i asked if you could spot me with some sunscreen.”

once again, another mortifying moment for cloud and his trunks. his mouth gaped open and closed a small bit before he finally sighed and mumbled, “i really better go and s—“

“c’mon, you want your girlfriend to burn to death out here?”

your insistent words didn’t help his problem, your voice teasing as he focused on the way the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off your tongue. he had no choice—except he actually did despite saying that he didn’t—but to take small steps towards the towel, ducking under the small umbrella and taking a seat behind you.

he was so aware of everything now with the hard-on in his trunks more embarrassing than ever. the sand beneath his feet and on the back of his thighs, the way your back glistened with the unwavering heat of the island shining down on you, the way he hesitantly grabbed the sunblock bottle from your soft hands.

he squirted some into his palm, the foreign feeling of a bare hand made his eyebrows furrow as he was so used to his own gloved ones. you hummed a small tune— one cloud had recalled was playing in the jukebox outside a drink stand nearby, while he rubbed his hands to get the lotion spread. if his face wasn’t red then, it definitely was when you let out a small sigh at the feeling of the cold sensation on your back.

despite being as awkward as he was, cloud’s deft hands massaged the sunscreen into your skin surprisingly comfortably. he let out a small curse under his breath as he grimaced when you slightly turned your head and questioned his whispers, “what was that?”

“nothin’.”

he was pretty sure you could see somewhat of his face right now, eyes scrunching as he felt himself twitch in his trunks while the tips of his ears grew red. if he was lucky enough— and coherent enough— he’d blame it on the sun. and it definitely didn’t help that you kept trying to make conversation with him.

“don’t you think it’s so beautiful out today, cloud?” you smiled. the breath of fresh air was unlike anything the two of you had experienced— you could inhale freely without choking on ash or dirt or debris from the recklessness of shinra. and he had to admit, it was a nicer change of pace stopping by costa del sol.

“everything’s just so gorgeous out here—“

“can you please stop talking?”

you turned your head once more, and cloud sighed in embarrassment. he didn’t mean for it to come out that way, honest. but he can’t focus on your words when you’re in front of him with that stupid swimsuit, distracting him as he tries not to shift his lower body to much. and of course, it took a beat of silence before your voice came out low, “have i offended you?”

“are you serious right now? you’re having me pour sunblock on you while you’re pressed up against me.”

it was only then when you let out a small laugh that he realized what you were doing. you did all of this on purpose— you sat here with aerith for a solid five minutes while he bumped into tifa, you could’ve had her spot you. but no, cloud just had to be the one to do it. he had noticed that you shifted back a little bit, which he thought was just so he didn’t have to reach so far but now that your lower back was pressed against him, he realized that you understood his problem a long time ago.

“oh well, sorry about that.” you teased, reaching behind you to remove cloud’s hands while you turned around to face him. you took off your sunglasses and grinned at him, taking in his flustered appearance. the bulge in his trunks failed to go unnoticed as your eyes flickered down once or twice.

“hey, cloud?” he looked back up at you, tearing his eyes away from the very interesting flecks of gold in the sand.

your smile never left your face. a deep contrast to your sweet demeanor was the innuendo that left your lips afterwards, “didn’t you have to go to bathroom earlier?”

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Augh I loved writing this so much help- I think the new Damsel movie affected me too much 😭 Biggest thanks to @cashmoneyyysstuff for beta reading this she’s a QUEEN Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Light cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, Shinso is a year younger than reader, reader is 20 years old, f!reader, reader's mother is dead, medieval fantasy setting, reader's childhood friend is Kirishima, but you're also close friends with Deku and Ururaka, mentions of perverted actions (not done by a name character though, reader's nickname is Cactus, slight spoilers of the actual show/manga, reader is shorter than Kirishima and Shinso, some mentions of IzuOcha.

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x reader, Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: A Pot of Stew

Ssssss.... 

The crackle of the fireplace is all you really hear as you flit around through your home, grabbing the big stew pot from the wooden cabinet. The house was quiet, which was surprising, considering you lived with three other people.  

Your father was out with his friend, hoping to catch some fish before the harsh winter would freeze over the lakes. You had sent your brother out earlier to fetch some tomatoes from the market, as the small garden you maintained only produced lettuce, potatoes, onions, and strawberries when they were in season. Hopefully the tomatoes your brother brought back could have seeds that you could save to plant in the spring.  

Your sister was most likely out at Chiyo’s home, the old woman ran the local apothecary was sweet enough to allow the small girl to aid her in crushing herbs and spices to create the medicines that lined her shelves.  

Walking outside, you grab the big bucket by the door, making your way to the home of the Kirishimas, who had a well they let you use to fetch water.  

You mentally groan, knowing that carrying a bucket of water would be a bitch to carry back home. Hopefully you could bug your red-haired friend to aid you in carrying it home if he was around.  

He wasn’t there unfortunately, hooking the bucket to the rope before sending it down to collect water. Once if was full, you pulled the rope that you were holding onto with all your strength, allowing the pulley system to bear most of the weight. 

Deadpanning, you know most of the water that spills out will end on you, sighing in defeat with the resignation that complaining will get you nowhere. You had a family to feed.  

Rolling up the sleeves of your white blouse, you grab the bucket’s handle with both hands, almost dropping it from the sheer weight of it, lamenting the cold sting of the water against your skin as it seeps through your leggings.  

It was almost comical, the way your face was scrunched in concentration as you made your way home, watching your step from the occasional loose pebble so you wouldn’t trip. Your muscles ached, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle, considering how much worse you’d been through when it came to other tasks that required similar feats. It was another perk of being the oldest child, though you were only a year older than your brother, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your family meant the world to you, and you would do everything in your power to protect them. 

Reaching the steps leading up to the door of your home, you set the bucket down finally, your arms practically singing in relief, only for you to pick it up again after turning the doorknob and closing the door shut with your boot-clad foot.  

Making your way to the stew pot that was currently sitting over the fire, you fill it with the water you fetched, letting it boil while you prepared the vegetables you needed.  

Busying yourself with chopping the ingredients you already had, you took the sprigs of cilantro you saved from a few days ago and sliced them so they were thin enough. As you worked your way through the small pile, the door opened to reveal a familiar tuft of purple hair.  

“Hey Toshi!” you call out, waving from the kitchen to signal your presence.  

Your brother takes notice, entering the room and setting the sack of tomatoes on the counter before making his way over to you, ruffling your hair in affection before raising an eyebrow.  

“How much stew are you making?” he asks suspiciously “The four of us aren’t going to be able to eat all of that in time before it tastes bad.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You underestimate Eri’s appetite. Plus, Ejiro, Ochako and Izuku are coming over to join us. I’m making enough for each of our families.” 

Hitoshi chuckles in response, walking over to the makeshift pantry you made a few months ago, grabbing a loaf of bread. “Y/N, you would feed the entire village if you could. Actually, you could, but we wouldn’t let you.” he rolls his eyes playfully and you send him a halfhearted glare.  

“It’s called being nice, Mr. Hitoshi Aizawa, a concept foreign to your cold heart.” you say, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

He groans, taking the knife from you to slice the bread, while you move to take the tomatoes. “Ugh stop, you sound like Toshinori.” he gripes, punching your shoulder in annoyance. 

A giggle bursts out of your lips at that, abandoning the tomatoes you were washing in the basket to strike a pose, letting out an “I AM HERE!” in the best Toshinori Yagi impression you could.  

They used to call him All Might, a war hero who was known for bringing your home country countless victories, the wars he entered had casualty numbers so low that you wondered if he was blessed by the gods. Blessed in the past tense though, as after a critical injury in a recent war, he was deemed unable to fight and left the army with an honorable discharge, growing into the old man he was today, running a stand at the marketplace where he sold quality vegetables from his extensive garden. 

You must’ve looked ridiculous as you posed however, because your brother cackles, throwing his head back and smiling so wide his face must’ve hurt. You laugh too, happiness bubbling in your chest from seeing him so happy as well. You chuck an unwashed tomato at him, knowing he’d catch it, and reprimand him.  

“Okay now get back to work you rodent, we’re feeding a group of seven tonight.” you tease, sticking out your tongue and he tosses the tomato back to you, returning to slicing the bread.  

You both spent the next hour or so like that, trading banter and occasionally fighting, but managing to be productive as you finish cutting all your vegetables, throwing them into the stew pot, creating a lovely aroma that makes your stomach growl in hunger.  

You hear a knock at the door, Hitoshi opting to answer it. It was Chiyo, returning Eri home for the day, the girl in question had a bright smile on her face, and a few bottles of unknown liquids in her hands that were sure to join the others in the washroom’s medicine cabinet. 

“Toshi!!” she squeals, and you smile, hearing a small uff! escape the purplenette’s lips, knowing that Eri most likely hugged him around his legs, the only part of him she could really reach at the moment. Sometimes it was infuriating how much taller he was than you. 

Your brother thanks Chiyo, and the old lady leaves with the promise of fresh baked goods during her next visit. 

“Where’s Y/N??” Eri asks excitedly, and you want to snort at her random burst of hyperness.  

“M’over here banana.” you call from where you sat in front of the fireplace, and Eri trudges over with an annoyed look over her face.  

“I told you not to call me that!” she whines, huffing as she sits down next to you, trying to look into the pot to see what you were making.  

“Careful- it’s hot.” You warn, gently pushing her away. “Plus you love bananas!” 

Your little sister makes a face plopping down to lie on the floor with a grumpy expression. “I hate bananas.” she grumbles, stretching her limbs out to take up as much of the floor as she could. 

You quirk up an eyebrow “Are you sure? You sure look like one.” you say gathering her hair once she sits up and holding it high above her head to resemble the elongated shape of a banana fruit. 

She splutters, and you snort releasing her hair, so it falls straight into her face, and returning your attention to the stew, stirring it and taking the wooden spoon you had out, gathering some of the liquid before bringing it to your lips, tasting it briefly.  

“Toshi!” you call from where you sat. “Can you bring me some paprika?”  

You hear a Yeah whatever come from the hallway, and you return your attention back to your sulking sister.  

“Y’know for someone so nice, you’re really mean.” she pouts, and you smile in a half hearted apology, fixing her hair.  

“Eri, my job as your sister, as well as Toshi’s as your brother, is to be mean to you because we love you so much. If we were nice to you all the time, wouldn’t we be boring?” you ask. 

“Hmm... I guess. Is Izuku coming over today?” she asks, laying her head on your lap looking up at you with impossibly huge sparkling red puppy eyes.  

You laugh, flicking her nose lightly. Izuku was her favorite out of your friends, probably because he worked in the markets, for Toshinori no less, and he brought her apples every day. 

“Yes, Izuku’s coming over for dinner tonight, so go wash up and be on your best behavior.” you say warningly, and she nods, jumping up excitedly and rushing to your shared room.  

Hitoshi enters the living room at that moment, sprinkling the paprika into the stew until you told him to stop, stirring lightly before tasting and grinning in satisfaction.  

Handing him the spoon, Hitoshi has a taste of his own, his eyes lighting up as the flavors hit his tastebuds.  

“Damn.” is all he says, and you punch his leg, happy that he likes it, but scolding him for his language.  

“Eri’s in the other room idiot, go change and I’ll get dinner served before they get here.” you order, shooing him out and you grab a damp towel from the kitchen to carry the pot into the room, setting it on the countertop and placing aforementioned towel on top so it stays warm. Putting out the fire in the living room, you open a cabinet, grabbing a large plate and exactly seven bowls and spoons. Setting the dishes around the large wooden dining table, you spoon equal amounts of stew into each of the bowls, the aroma even stronger now, and you give Eri extra because you know she’ll ask you for more later. 

You brought out the wooden carved drinking cups that you had, a gift from your late mother, setting them around the table and filling them with some of the remaining water from the well. Putting the plate in the middle of the table, you set the bread Hitoshi cut from earlier along with some goat cheese gifted to you by Izuku the previous day.  

Wiping your hands on your apron, you sigh, about to call for your siblings before you hear a knock at the door, revealing a smiling Ejiro Kirishima.  

“Hey Eji!” you beam, wrapping your arms around your lifelong friend, who reciprocates the action and spins you around before setting you down, welcoming himself in- he'd been to your home so frequently certain mannerisms weren’t needed anymore.  

“Hey Cactus!” he smiles back, and you roll your eyes at the nickname.  

Ejiro insisted that your kindness was always a facade and that you were a fiery beast that even hell was afraid of in secret, and the redhead had given you the nickname once seeing you scold man around your age for trying to look up Ochako’s skirt. You insisted you weren’t usually like this, but the nickname stuck, a term of endearment used only by your closest friends.  

You smack his forearm, and roll your eyes, still smiling however, leading him to the dining room before calling out for your siblings.    

Eri bounds in, only to be swept up in Ejiro’s arms, giggling as he spins her around to simulate flight.  

He sets her down and she jumps up, “Again, again!” she chants.  

He groans, feigning pain. “But you’re so heavy!” He says, pretending to faint in your direction, and you roll your eyes and push him off, laughing. “I think you got bigger since the last time I saw you.” 

Eri giggles, putting her hands on her hips. “I saw you this morning silly! That was only...” she counts on her fingers. “47 hours ago!”  

You want to laugh, knowing that it was only about 13 hours since she last saw the red haired male, but Ejiro only groans even more.  

“Exactly! You grew so much from then! You might become even taller than your sister.” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.  

Eri giggles, and Hitoshi joins you three in the living room, stealing a piece of cheese from the table and popping it in his mouth.  

"I'm not short!" You grumble, crossing your arms. "You and Hitoshi are just stupidly tall."

You hear another knock on the door, leaving Ejiro and your siblings to their devices as you answer it. Opening the door, you’re met with Izuku, accompanied by Ochako, both giving you a hug as you let them in, exchanging their signature greetings.  

“Hey Cactus!” they both chirp in unison and you snort, ruffling Izuku’s hair and squeezing Ochako’s shoulder.  

“Hey you two!” you say, smiling knowingly. Ever since the two of them became a couple, they were practically joined at the hip.  

You make your way to the dining room, where Ejiro is seen with Eri on his shoulders, the latter playing with former’s hair while he talks to your brother.  

Eri’s eyes light up, practically launching herself off the poor red head- thankfully Izuku catches her, producing another apple from his satchel.  

You groan, knowing that if Eri ate too many she would grow to get sick of them, but you let her be, knowing that she was happy.  

You all sit down to eat, Shinso on one side of you and Eri on the other. Ejiro sat next to your brother and Izuku sat next to Eri with his girlfriend on his other side.  

Catching up with your friends, and eating the food you made, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the empty seat at the head of the table, where your father sat.  

He still hadn’t returned from his fishing trip.  

You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet you couldn’t help but worry. Your father, Shota Aizawa sustained a terrible injury in a war a few years ago, forcing him to amputate his own leg in order to prevent the toxins from a poison covered arrow from reaching his neural system. It was the same year your mother had died, leaving you, a grieving ten-year-old you to take care of your father as well as a nine-year-old Hitoshi and a newborn Eri. You were forced to grow up fast in those times, a dark patch for your family, yet it became a big part of who you were today.  

Which included your boundless paranoia, thinking the worst as the time ticked by, with no sight of your father.  

Hitoshi takes notice, sending you a worried glance, opening his mouth to say something before the door swings open. 

It was your father, relief flooding through you before you took in his haggard state. He looks tired, more tired than usual. Your father always looked tired, but never weary.  

His eyes scan the room, frantically looking around, before the settle on you.  

“I have bad news.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

@naoyasbby @sweetblueworm @isentsworld @bkgpackets @moonnm

@bkgrl @satoruyes @eyesforbkg @juicyfingers @aejabba

@noodleryworld @yui-aya @ashiblossom @rv19 @wheezdostuff

@yannvi @liluvtojineteyam @ah-mya @surprisemodafakas @kksmush

@sagejin @cax-per @kit-katsukii

[b1rds3ye]

hi!!! i LOVE the masked reader content 😭💞 my hyperfixated brain is thanking u deeply

can i request a masked (w LEDs bc i love it sm) reader who's saying "i cant believe you guys didnt notice my new haircut" or something similar, having a :( face on their mask and 141 is so confused like "we cant see your hair" "you have hair? kinda thought u were bald" stuff like that 😭 its a weird idea but im craving stupid platonic fluff like that

ty for the masked reader content love u sm for it

Hehehe as someone who hyperfixates a lot I am flattered I can induce it onto someone else LMAO Just a lil Drabble for this one I couldn’t think up of much 😅

“You pissed ‘em off,” Ghost observes and Soap’s face drops into one of sheer betrayal.

“That was one time 'n' now you a' think it’s me?” Johnny jerks his head to the side in annoyance. “What about when cap’n-”

“I’m sure they can hear you,” Gaz whisper-shouts as he gestures to you. The rest of the task force look over to you sitting on the couch at the far end of the common room. Absentmindedly watching the shared television, your arms are folded with your mask in a perpetual "-_-". You make no indication that you heard them, no, you were fully set on ignoring them all morning.

"Captain what should we do?" Kyle asks.

"This isn't a mission Kyle, we can talk it out," Price sighs.

"Care to do the honours, then?"

Price stills, beady eyes sparing a glance at your unmoving figure. If the rest of the task force didn't know any better, they would think the unwavering captain was scared.

"'m busy," he replies gruffly.

"Busy" being him fishing around in his pocket for a new cigar for an impossibly long amount of time until his subordinates let him off the hook.

"L.T.?" Johnny looks to the next superior officer, to which Simon only responds with a half-hearted grunt. In truth, Simon and John have always been good at figuring out your mood. This is one of the few times they've been left stumped, clear through the silent conversation they shared as they looked at each other.

"Cowards," Johnny mutters to himself before stomping up to you, with a drawn out, sing-song (but horrendously out of tune) "bonnieeeee" announcing his presence to you. You don't even flinch.

Johnny saddles himself beside you, leaning into you. He offers you his sweetest puppy-dogs to try and placate you before he tests the waters.

"So... what's up?"

The rest of the task force was slowly joining Johnny, you could tell as Price's cigar smoke became more pungent. An explosive move by you has these grown men flinching as you pull out a strip of paper and slam it on the coffee table in front of you, mask flitting to an angry face all the while before returning to "-_-".

Simon reaches the paper first. Delicately opening the thin parchment as Kyle and John peer over his shoulder. Johnny looks up at them but stays by your side.

Simon looks at you.

"A hairdresser?"

"Got it done yesterday," you seethe. "And no one bloody noticed. They're not cheap, you know!"

Johnny tries putting a hand on your shoulder but you jerk it away. There's a heavy moment of silence as you keep laser focused on whatever the hell the television is playing. Your hands grip your biceps as you ensure they stay crossed.

Kyle eventually submits. He kneels before you, not daring to take up all the view of the screen, but just enough for him to be sure you were aware of him.

"Love, I'm gonna ask you a question. Please don't take this the wrong way."

"What?" you grumble.

Kyle takes an audible inhale. He receives an encouraging nod from Price and he needs to take a swallow to prepare. Even you have to admit the anticipation is killing you now, you offer him the relief that he indeed has your attention, mask now set with "?" over the eyes.

"... you have hair?"

You groan and swat him away as Johnny bursts out laughing. Leaning forward with your head in your hands you try to make it seem like your shaking shoulders were from devastation and not because you were laughing too.

"No, Kyle, I just thought I'd go to a hair dresser and admire everyone else's hairdos," you retort once you've recollected yourself.

"Thought you were bald," Simon muses.

"Right back at you, Skull Face."

"I'm sure it looks good, sergeant," Price encourages as he takes the receipt from Simon, inspecting the details.

"At least someone appreciates my efforts unlike the rest of you."

"How about we appreciate it more then, bonnie?" Johnny leans in mischievously. "Take that mask off. Show us how good it looks."

"Actually, I- uh... I got my hair treated. Need to keep this mask on, let it set, you know?"

Kyle tilts his head.

"That's not how it works-?"

"I've been waiting for this bit!" You exclaim as you point at the television screen. Kyle shakes his head with a smile before joining you on the couch, opposite to Johnny. Simon and John also situate themselves around the room, far enough for personal distance but close enough to still take part in conversations, and it's now a typical off-day for the 141. They may not be able to see your face - nor your improved hair - for now, but perhaps one day they'll be graced with the sight. For now, these antics around base will suffice.

Call of Duty Navigation Masked Reader Masterlist

[female-hysterics]

I've been having Alpha!Steven brainrot for the longest time 😭😭 Like he gets a rut and just goes a little dumb behind the eyes lmao. I mean he knows that you have to work, and that's why you're not at home. And he knows that you didn't know he'd have a rut because, hell, he didn't know himself!

Still doesn't stop him from pouncing on you the second you walk through the door, though. Because your alpha's in rut :(( Where were you?? Why weren't you at home?? Why do you smell like so many other ppl?? Do you not love him anymore??? He can't have that. Why weren't you at home with him???

Sure it'd be easier to answer if he wasn't crushing you under his weight, arm wrapped around your waist pressing you to him and chest to your back, forcing you to the floor. It'd be even easier if he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, but. Ya'know.

It's not like he'd be listening to reason anytime soon anyways.

Alpha Steven being so driven by his instincts and being so needy at the same time. He spent the entire day scenting the entire flat, jeking off with his face buried in your pajamas from the night before, and he’s so restless that he’s on the verge of pawing through the clothes hamper when he hears your keys in the lock. Steven is on you as soon as the door swings shut and you barely muffle out a squeak before his long fingers are in your mouth as he begins to scent you frantically with a rumbling purr. His questions were rapid fire, each one punctuated by his hand freeing you of your pants and undergarments, and you try to answer him even as his heavy body is squishing you to the cold floor and his fingers are pressing your tongue flat in your mouth until you are drooling.

Then, he’s sliding his thick aching cock into your dripping pussy, and he whines sharply at the sheer relief at finally being inside his Omega. His inner Alpha howling in pleasure as his hips start to piston in a brutal rhythm that makes your eyes roll at how deep he was reaching inside you. You lay there in pure pleasure and take what he gives you, spreading your thighs and arching your hips to present yourself to him in a classic Omega position that made Steven snarl from where he was licking at the scent glands on your throat, and you whimper when his teeth sink into your bond bite as his knot swells suddenly inside you as he comes. The feeling of him pulsing hot and deep into your needy core sends you catapulting off the edge of bliss and you clench down on his knot with a garbled wail as you shake at the whirlwind of sensations.

Once you calm down, the scent of Steven’s Rut has calmed down significantly, and he was lazily lapping over your throat. He had removed his fingers from your mouth and was instead petting over your body as he purred happily. You were still locked on his thick knot, body still clenching on him sporadically as he rocked his hips steadily, and you knew that it would be a while before you made it to the bed.

[bright-and-burning]

🐑 send me a fake set of fic tags, and I’ll try to come up with a summary for it! !!!! OOOh okay. if you're up for it(!), then: #Canon Divergent #There Was Only Ten Beds #Magical Realism #Bondage #Light Decapitation

a lobby with nine hundred windows | lando/oscar, M

#canon divergence, #there was only ten beds, #magical realism, #bondage, #light decapitation

The first sign of something going really, terribly, desperately wrong is subtle, honestly. So subtle, Oscar hadn’t thought anything of it. Brakes catch fire all the time, Max was due for some bad luck; nothing more, nothing less. The explosion bit was a little weird, a little larger than usual, but that was easily explained away. The second sign, the air going wavy and thick around him as he exited the car, is almost equally subtle. Waking up to Lando holding a knife to his throat, however, is not.  Australia has a lot to answer for.

not only did i come up with a summary for it. i also uh. wrote it. it's wild what breaks through writers block 😭 so thank u for this strange and lovely tag combo. here's 1700 words of. idek what. something completely and utterly different from anything else i've ever written, that's for sure!

tw for mild description of violence

Oscar wakes, slow and groggy, to a warm weight on his chest, limiting his breaths. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and goes from half-asleep to wide-awake in milliseconds, Lando looming over him, perched on his chest. Knife at his throat.

“Lando, what the fuck?”

Oscar struggles, feeling returning to his limbs, the restraints around his wrists and ankles making themselves known.

Lando presses him further into the bed, eyes wide. He shifts his gaze around the room, frenetic, never keeping Oscar out of sight for long. Oscar’s hyperaware of the cool edge of metal against his skin. The thump of blood through his carotid is loud in his ears.

“Tell me something only you would know.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oscar, I need you to trust me.” Lando leans in further, so close Oscar has to fight against the urge to cross his eyes. “Tell me something no one else knows.”

Oscar thinks, hard. Lando’s face is more serious than he’s ever seen it before.

“The backs of your thighs are weirdly ticklish?”

Lando releases a little of the pressure, but stays leaned over Oscar, considering.

“At least three other people know that. Something else. Please.” His voice cracks, and with it, his expression, desperation on display.

Oscar reaches to touch him, to soothe the visible ache. The material wrapped tight around his wrist snaps taut before he can even get close. Lando notices the aborted motion, and shifts forward again.

“Oscar, think.”

Oscar wracks his brain, turning over all the stones labeled Lando in his head, looking for something novel, something truly secret. Carefully considers the little cut-off wheezy sounds Lando makes when he’s just come, the half-filled sketchbooks shoved in a drawer, his secret sleeping spot at the MTC. Discards each one, heart rate slowing now that Oscar has a task to focus on, before remembering—

“You’ve been stealing my shampoo!” Oscar says, too loud for the odd room they’re in.

“No I ha- How did you know that?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can in the restraints.

“I realized I was running out too fast. And you smell like me sometimes. Noticed after Vegas, I think.”

Lando’s face does something complicated, flashing from shifty to smug to sheer relief. He tosses the knife to the ground with a clatter, and collapses onto Oscar.

“Thank fuck, Osc, holy shit,” he says, shoulders shaking.

“Can I get some answers now? Like why you had a knife at my throat?”

Lando sits back up, nearly knocking his head into Oscar’s chin. His face is wet. Oscar remembers his restraints, and does not go to wipe his tears. He climbs off the bed, disappearing out of Oscar’s limited line of sight, and pops back up with said knife.

“Let me get you out of here first. Before things get wobbly again.”

“Wobbly?”

Lando ignores his question, focused on getting Oscar out of the straps. His hands are shaking nearly too bad to unknot anything; the knife lays unused, for fear of accidentally cutting something else. It takes minutes for Oscar’s right hand to be freed.

“Give me that,” Oscar gestures for the knife.

Lando hands it over without protest, and Oscar cuts through the remaining straps in quick order.

When Oscar is fully freed, Lando immediately pulls him into a hug tight enough to bruise.

“God, Osc. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Oscar pats him on the back, gentle. Lets him cling on, face tucked into his neck, quiet, shuddering exhales tickling his skin. Just when Oscar opens his mouth to ask any of the million questions, Lando pulls away and tugs him towards the door.

“I think it’ll be easier now that I’ve found the real you,” Lando says, opening the door. The light beyond is nearly blinding in comparison to the dim lit room they’re leaving behind. Lando steps out, hand still tight on Oscar’s. Oscar follows.

“The real me?”

They’re standing in a long hallway now, lined with doors of different shapes and sizes. Oscar turns slightly, to look at the one they’ve just left. It’s a simple metal door in a metal frame, a neon yellow handle the only distinguishing feature.

Every fifth door or so is the same. Simple metal, neon yellow handle. The rest have no pattern, as far as Oscar can tell. Here’s a frosted glass door stretching the full height of the corridor, and then a mini-van door with flame decals on the bottom. Here’s a mahogany double door several inches shorter than Lando, followed by a door Oscar could swear is Mark’s front door.

Lando speaks up, drawing his attention away from the oak door with the familiar mail slot. He nods to the door they just left.

“That’s the tenth one I’ve tried. Every other Oscar hasn’t passed the test.”

Oscar’s blood goes cold.

“How did you know,” He stops, unsure how to phrase his question.

“To check?”

Oscar nods.

“The first one was…” Lando pauses. Shivers at something only in his mind. “He was just wrong. I dunno. Didn’t smile right, or something. Like that valley thing.”

Lando’s clearly leaving something unsaid, some bigger reason to put a knife under Oscar’s chin, but he looks like he’s about to start shaking again. Oscar leaves it be, for now. Until they get out of this mess.

“And that’s when you…” Oscar holds up the knife.

Lando nods jerkily.

“I mean, one minute I was on the podium, the next the world went wobbly and I was here. I started opening doors, just trying to get out. Saw a lot of freaking weird shit, okay,” his voice is creeping higher, more defensive with each word, “and then I saw you, and then you weren’t you, and I-“ Lando deflates. “I freaked out, a little.”

“And then you, what, stabbed him?” Oscar tries to keep his voice even. Fails a little, maybe. Lando isn’t meeting his eyes.

“I sort of. Slithistthroat.”

“Sorry?”

Lando clears his throat. He’s tense, shoulders high around his ears, body twisted like he’s ready to bolt.

“Slit his throat.” Lando’s voice tilts up like it’s a question. It’s not.

Oscar stares.

“I freaked out a lot.”

And then he did it eight more times, from the sounds of it. Oscar can’t even imagine. Going from room to room, bed to bed. Waking Lando up, over and over, just to find something terrible in his place. Having to kill something shaped like him, time and time again, with no idea where the real him is. No idea if he’s making a mistake.

Oscar eyes the knife, looking closer. Looking for a distraction in the minutiae.

“It’s, uhm. Clean?”

“They disappear, after. That’s how I knew that I- That’s how I knew.”

That’s how he knew he hadn’t made a mistake, he means. That he hadn’t killed the real Oscar.

“Oh. That’s good, then. That they disappear.”

“Not- not right away.”

Lando looks haunted, briefly. He shakes his head, and starts moving, pulling Oscar along again.

Oscar changes the subject.

“Any idea what we’re looking for?”

“Not exactly,” Lando draws out the vowels. They’re still holding hands. Oscar is thankful for Lando’s tight grip on him, a tether to reality. A reminder that they’re both real. For both of them. “Was mostly hoping if I found the right you things would clear up.”

“Oh, brilliant.”

Lando squeezes his hand and keeps moving, walking much faster than normal.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Getting out of the car.” Oscar squints, picking over his memories. “Going to get weighed, maybe?”

They pass a sliding glass door. The interior is distorted, but it looks like his back door. From home, in Melbourne. Oscar’s chest goes a little tight looking at it, but it doesn’t feel quite right. Nothing like the growing pull towards the end of the hall, and maybe Lando was right about things clearing up. They keep moving. The pull keeps growing.

“D’you feel that?”

Oscar nods. “It’s gotta be coming up.”

Whatever it is, at least.

A quick glance at Lando’s tense face and Oscar knows he’s not alone in that thought.

Lando stops, so abrupt Oscar’s hand nearly slips from his hold.

“Somewhere around here, you think?”

Oscar steps closer, threading his fingers back through Lando’s. He closes his eyes and focuses on the magnetic pull, tugging at some place behind his sinuses. He turns, slow, careful to keep Lando in his grasp, until something clicks into place.

The pressure releases, like ears popping on a flight. Lando makes a weird noise, some kind of suppressed squeak. Oscar opens his eyes.

The other doors have disappeared, leaving only one: three feet away, right in front of them.

It’s plain. Wood, this time, painted white, set in a plain frame. Empty but for a sign with their names on it.

Oscar turns to Lando.

His eyes are wide and searching.

“This has gotta be it, right?”

“Don’t think we have much of a choice now.”

They step forward in unison. Oscar puts his hand on the doorknob, and pauses.

“Just for luck,” he says, and turns, quick as lightning, to kiss Lando.

Just a press of lips, over as soon as it began, Oscar turning back to the door.

Lando makes a noise, deep in the back of his throat, and spins Oscar bodily by the shoulders.

“Just for luck?” He asks, twitchy all over, and pulls Oscar down against him for another, quick until it’s not, both unable to stay apart for long.

They kiss, slow and steady, reassuring, until the pressure in the back of Oscar’s skull starts building again, an incessant reminder that they need to leave.

They break apart.

Oscar twists the knob, watching Lando instead of the door, and opens it, stepping through without looking. Making sure Lando follows.

The door slams behind them.

They’re in another corridor, long and full of doorways, to Oscar’s despair.

Lando starts laughing, tinged with an edge of hysteria.

Oscar opens his mouth to reassure him, and fails. What if there are more Oscars? God, what if there are Landos?

“It’s Hilton, Oscar, it’s freaking Hilton.” He spins around, arms outstretched, before slamming back into Oscar. 

“D’you feel that?“ He whispers into Oscar’s shoulder.

“No?” Oscar’s still in shock, a little.

“Exactly, Osc. No pull, no pressure, no caddy valley. We’re fucking free, baby.”

[icryaboutit]

It was all acting?!

SUMMARY: Imagine, somewhere in the timeline of Twst, Vil asked for GenZ!Yuu's assistance when one of the actors failed to show due to reasons. So GenZ!Yuu of course agreed to it cause why not. And the real kicker to it all is that the person they were replacing is a lover who got their heart broken, so crying was involved. Now IMAGINE, the sheer amount of suppressed trauma GenZ!Yuu have finally had a reason to come out.

or something along those lines

TAGS: Male Yuu, OOC, Angst?

WORD COUNT: 1,290 words

"What do you mean, they can't come?!"

The high-pitched voice of Vil's manager echoed through the place, garnering much attention from nearby crowds.

"Keep quiet Adeline, you are garnering unwanted attention."

Vil's calm yet somehow tired voice came from behind his manager, making her look at him with a distressed expression.

"How can I stay calm Vil! One of our actor is unreachable! And today is a big day!"

She exclaimed, clearly today's event was something that was of great importance. Which it is, the current event at play may help Vil rise in more fame, hell! It might even help him finally beat Neige LeBlanche.

"I know how important this is Adeline. But there is no need to fret and stress over something that we couldn't have known would occur."

"But Vil-!"

"Hmm? What's going on?"

This snapped the two out from their own world arguing, when a familiar voice had interrupted their talk.

"Ah, potato, what brings you here?"

Vil greeted, as Yuu stood there with some things in hand.

"Rook had asked of me to deliver this for you Vil-san."

Yuu said as he gave the stuff on his hand to Adeline.

"Thank you potato."

"No problem~ Rook promised to give me some trinkets for this trip so it wasn't really free labor."

Yuu explained with a shrug, as Vil looked at him up and down with calculating gaze. Feeling this, Yuu decided to make a quick ran for it.

"Well, then... I'll be off no-"

"Wait a minute, potato."

'Damn!'

"What is it Vil-san..?"

Yuu cautiously asked, knowing whatever Vil halted him for would end up in a disaster.

"Potato, how would you like to star in-"

"No thank you~!"

Yuu sweated bullets as he declined Vil's offer in a swift move,

"You haven't even heard the proposal yet potato."

"Whatever Vil-san was about to say, my senses were telling me that such sacred duties are bound for a much fortunate soul~!"

In short, "Hell, no, fuck off!" was what Yuu wanted to give off which was brutally ignored by Vil's next choice of words.

"Oh~? Do you think my eyes would deceive me once I see talent potato? You must have mistaken me for someone else's personality."

In short, "Give up, you have no choice." And thus, getting the message, Yuu was added in the list of actors at the last minute.

"Where did Yuu go?! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Henchman! Where are you!?"

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom?"

"HUMAN! REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU MUSN'T MAKE WAKA-SAMA WAIT!"

"You guys need to calm down..."

"Bold of ya ta even think they'll just calm down."

Currently, a group of first years were looking for a certain Yuu who still hasn't come on their meeting place.

Despite their current shenanigans, all of the first years were deeply worried as they wondered what kind of mess Yuu had gotten themselves involved in just by being in the area.

*Ping*

The sound of the notification on all of the first years' phones rang, informing them of the message that they had received.

Opening the message they were greeted by a text from the same person they were looking for.

YesImYuu: Can't make it guyz~!😥 Vil-san has me trapped!😭You guyz can go ahead and go🤧😞 AND BETTER BE ON TIME!😤

"..."

"So he's fine, good to know."

Jack who was the calmest exhaled in relief knowing that Yuu was alright. He then proceeded to push the flabbergasted group towards the entrance.

"So I can say whatever I want?"

"Yeah, we just need a way for people to gather towards us so that the plot can be constructed... I guess, I'm not sure either."

Yuu was conversing with his partner who was as clueless as him, since the one who got information about everything was the one who was currently unavailable.

"Okay... So like, do you have anything particular topic in mind?"

"Well I mean, we just need to cause a commotion that will enable Schoenheit-senpai and the female lead to meet through the crowd. And we thought, what better crowd gathering option there is but a lover's quarrel..."

At the mention of the words lover's quarrel, Yuu had a bright idea popping into his mind.

"Oh~! Then how about-"

And this was the start of the famous lover's quarrel, staring the prefect of NRC and some dude from Pomefiore.

The play had started, and just as Vil and his manager had expected, the theme garnered a lot of attention. Adeline only prayed that the scene where Vil and the female lead would end up meeting would be a success. Considering that Vil had made a choice to add an outsider the last minute.

The moment that scene appeared, the first years who were either only there for the free food, or because of some reasons or just genuine support, had their eyes widen at the sight of Yuu with some pomefiore guy as they argued in the background their voices inaudible.

Not to mention the prefect had a dress on, along with longer hair, and makeup that brought out his feminine side.

It wasn't only the first years who were shocked. Everyone who was somewhat close or friends with Yuu was flabbergasted and shocked to see him acting on the stage. Even more shocked as the play continues.

"Who are you referring to?"

Yuu's face contorted into that of confusion and anger.

"Camilla."

The man spat with a look of indifference. The fake crowd on the stage was now genuinely intrigued by what was happening with him and Yuu, as they crowded over the two who were "arguing".

"Why would I care about her?!"

"Because I care about her!!"

At the sudden explosion of emotion from the man the people couldn't help but flinch at it.

Yuu who was on the receiving end looked like he wanted to scoff at the unbelievable proclamation.

"Morning, noon, and night I care about her!.. And you hurt her."

The man looked angrier by the second, the look of insanity dancing in his eyes. Yuu on the other hand was silent, but his eyes told everyone his true feelings on the matter.

"If you hurt her... You hurt me."

There was silence as there was tension, the people watched in great apprehension as they watched the scene unfold.

The man held a broken and emotionless smile, as he stared at Yuu who held and expressed nothing on his face.

"Camilla is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is."

"Not the mother of your children?"

Gasps were heard as a big revelation came. The sky darkens as the weather visibly shifted to a much gloomier setting.

"Don't bring the boys into this."

"Alright, not the woman you married!!"

"I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance! I wash my hands of it!"

It was then that thunder strike, yet none were paying any attention to the weird weather changes as they watched the two on stage.

*Slap*

It was also the time that Yuu seemed to have enough, as he raised his hands in the air, a resounding slap echoed through the stage. Yuu looked at the man with an unreadable expression, but the tears that fell from his eyes held every ounce of emotion that was left for the man in front of him.

Gasps were heard, and the sudden movement made the crowd move suddenly, as they unconsciously pushed off a woman from the crowd, who happened to be the female lead. Only to be caught by Vil, who happened to have positioned himself there.

Nothing about that act was in the plan. But in the end, the play ran smoothly.

[im-his-druidess]

Hiya! 😊💙 I was practically done when I realized that you also wanted age difference 😭💀

GIF by the-slasher-files

"I thought you were on suppressants?"

The question was gritted out, as if every word was ground up between his molars, before they were spat at you like bullets. You idly wondered if he had any teeth left after that question.

"I was on suppressants. But it's hard to stay on a steady dose when you live in bum-fuck nowhere!" You spat back, your normal cool temper flaring at the constant back and forth of the same argument with your Alpha, and Bo's blue eyes glittered dangerously at your tone.

You dug your palms into your eyes and attempted to rub away the building headache throbbing throughout your skull. Another symptom of your approaching Heat that your Alpha had sniffed out earlier that day that started the first round of yelling loud enough that even Vincent poked his head in on you throughout the day from inside the house.

Although it could also be that he was just curious about the smell of your approaching Heat.

Rough warm hands brushed your hands away, replacing your hands, and you let out a small sigh of relief as he massaged soothing circles on your temples while you kept your eyes closed. You felt your body subconsciously shift closer. As if your inner Omega was already craving for his touch and you sighed again as one of his hands traveled to cup your jaw firmly and force your face up higher. Immediately you opened your eyes to look at him.

"You know I'm goin' to take care of you, right?" he murmured gruffly, eyes narrowed in fierce stubbornness as he stared down at you, and you felt yourself smile despite the situation of your upcoming Heat.

"Of course, Vincent may not appreciate you scenting up the place, so I can drag a cot to the garage or somethin'. Maybe find an extra blanket or two," Bo muttered thoughtfully, looking around said garage as if he was looking for a spot already, and you looked at him in horror.

You pulled back and punched him in the arm and he flinched at the sudden impact and snapped his sharp canine teeth at you almost as if by instinct and you fought back the flinch at the aggressive display. He rubbed the tender spot with a small growl, eyeing you with a certain kind of dark pride, and you caught the slight tinge of arousal on his spicy Alpha scent as he dragged his tongue across his teeth in a display that had shivers run down your spine.

"That fuckin' hurt, Darlin'. Why did you do that?" he rumbled and you slipped out of the circle of his embrace with an irritated huff.

"It will be my first Heat in almost two years and it's going to be in a fucking garage on fucking cot nowhere near my fucking nest," you began while stomping off, emotions clogging your throat with a sudden intensity that the back of your eyes stung like you were staring straight into the sun, and you wanted nothing more than to hide underneath a pile of blankets.

Bo grabbed the back waistband of your jeans and yanked you back against his chest and you let out an undignified squeak at the sudden movement. He curled his body over yours tightly, wrapping his arms around your chest in a bearhug while nuzzling his face into your throat and the sensitive scent glands there, and you reflexively relaxed into his embrace even as you let out your own soft growl. He purred.

"And we will be fucking and I will have your sweet little pussy stretched out on my knot until you're screamin' my name over and over again," he cooed directly in your ear followed by a little nip and the mental image had any anger leaving you like air leaving a popped balloon and replacing the space left over with sheer want.

You sagged against him with a high pitched whine leaving you, something that will humiliate you later you're sure, and Bo laughed in pure delight at the way you tilted your chin up to bare your throat in submission.

"Don't you worry your pretty lil' head, darlin', I'm goin' treat you real nice. You're Alpha is gonna take good care of you...might be a good thing that you missed your suppressants after all."

[eoieopda]

Hello lovely lady :) I’m here to pretty please request a JK drabble because I miss him terribly and if you have the time because I very much am in love with your writing 🥹🥹 Tattoo artist JK who gets a crazy stupid adult crush on a customer who comes to him to do a very meaningful tattoo for her and they spend all night eating and talking afterwards and it’s all giggly and cute because he will find any reason to touch her 😭😭 and now I’m going to jump off a cliff bc I miss him so much LOL

sorry for the wait, sweet bean!

cw: mention of needles, general reference to trauma (not described); description of a bad tattoo i've seen in real life; reader gets one of my actual tattoos because fuck it, we ball.

Jeon Jungkook considered himself an artist. This wasn't based on his literal job title, but on the immeasurable time and effort he spent studying, practicing, and working as an apprentice. On the sheer number of oranges that went off to rot in dumpsters with shakily tattooed skin.

For years, he placed permanent art on the bodies of strangers for tips only — if clients bothered with the courtesy, that is. Little designs off the flash sheet, last-minute friendship tattoos for university students who'd fall out of touch upon graduating. It was grueling work, but it was worth it.

When he finished his apprenticeship and was promoted to resident artist, Jungkook figured that he'd spend his days seriously — on serious shit that took hours to design and even longer to translate onto a living, breathing, squirming canvas. That was the hope, anyway.

In reality, Jungkook had spent the entirety of his day doing unspeakably stupid shit. He'd just finished tattooing "Seoul" in hiragana for a tourist who didn't seem to know which side of the Strait he was on — and then you walked in.

You shouldn't have been the only person he'd seen all day that already had tattoos, but you were. You clearly knew how this was supposed to go; and Jungkook almost started floating when the crushing weight of his exasperation finally fell off his shoulders.

Finally.

He didn't mean to audibly sigh with relief when you stepped up to the counter. He did, though, and he was well past the point of giving a shit if that should have embarrassed him.

"Rough day?" You tilted your head to the side when you asked and you looked genuinely concerned, even with that tiny, sideways smile.

Jungkook was torn. Yours was a face worth staring at, but the gallery spreading over both of your exposed arms was one he wanted to get lost in. He knew more than anyone how fucking it weird it was when strangers gave themselves permission to run their hands over his skin — but he might finally understand the urge.

Swallowing down that intrusive desire, Jungkook gripped his Red Bull can even tighter in his left hand — twenty ounces, reserved exclusively for the most severe instances of brain rot — and balled his right hand into a fist. He rapped his knuckles against the countertop and shot you a grin, "Nah, it's golden."

Jungkook had been right about two things. The first was that you weren't a fainter, a flincher, or a cry-baby.

If he hadn't stolen so many glances at you throughout the session; and if your quiet laughter wasn't the pacemaker preventing his swooning heart from stopping; he might've thought that you were meditating. Sleeping, even, or hit with a freeze ray. You were still, entirely unfazed like you weren't being stabbed thousands of times per second with a bouquet of needles.

Jungkook was also dead-on that this day, despite its frustrating start, was golden. Better yet, it didn't end when your session did. When he'd blurted out an invitation to dinner, you said yes.

Sitting down across the table from him with your forearm dutifully covered in cling-wrap, you shot him an adorably sheepish smile. "Could you, um —?" You gestured to the perilla leaves on your plate with the chopsticks in your non-dominant hand. "I'm not as dexterous as I was two hours ago."

"I'm on it, boss."

He didn't have time to cringe over that statement or the wink that accompanied it because your knuckles brushed his when you slid your plate to him and — Are you a child? Why are you blushing? For fuck's sake, get a grip, Jeon.

You sipped your beer as you watched him; and it had Jungkook fumbling as if he was using chopsticks for the first time in his life and not the thousandth. Thankfully, instead of laughing at him, you asked, "So, what's the dumbest tattoo you've had to do for someone?"

"Cartoon corn-on-the-cob," Jungkook responded without hesitation. The memory was burned into his brain, a tattoo in its own right. "But that alone isn't the worst part, and neither is the fact that its face looked like it was moaning with a pat of butter sliding down its front."

You groaned, but you were grinning, "Jesus. Do I even want to know the worst part?"

"Butter me up, daddy."

Automatically, you raised your freshly-tattooed arm and slapped your hand over your mouth to keep your drink inside it. You winced at the sting on your skin and, no doubt, the burn in your chest as you coughed, "Come again?"

Jungkook slid your plate back over to you with pursed lips. Then, he took a deep breath. "That was the script they wanted to go with it," He sighed, "I spent a decade of my life on my craft and that is what I do with it."

"I'm sure the linework on the horny corn was beautiful, though." Your eyes sparkled when your tone softened. The sight of you stopped him from laughing at the words you chose.

He gestured down to the vintage floor lamp he'd etched in fine black ink on your forearm. "Looks better when the person I'm tattooing sits still," He smiled, "And you can correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you put thought into that, rather than thirst. Otherwise, I will have follow-up questions about whatever kink that might be."

Ugh, that giggle.

"Have you heard of ghost lights before?" You asked between bites of your kimchi.

When Jungkook shook his head, you cleared your throat to explain. "When you close up a theater after a show, you have to put a lamp on the stage. It's primarily a safety thing — keeps people from falling over set pieces or into the orchestra pit — but it helps out with ghosts, too."

Jungkook shifted in his chair and leaned in a little closer to more clearly hear what came next. He was riveted, and there was no hiding it.

"There are a couple of different superstitions about why it's done, but the one I grew up with was that it keeps ghosts from messing with your props and technical equipment while you're gone."

You quieted before you tacked on the amendment, corner of your mouth momentarily twitching up into a sad smile, "Figured this tattoo might help me ward off some of my own."

Your hand was close enough to his on the table that he could've pretended it was an accident. He didn't, though. The microscopic movement until his little finger touched yours was intentional; and he wanted you to know it.

Not daring to move that hand away, Jungkook grabbed his drink with the other and raised it. He waited for you to raise yours, too, before cheering, "To ghosts that mind their own fucking business!"

[how-serene]

i cant tell who it fits best i just really wanna see ❛ you’re beautiful, you know that? ❜ with somebody please 😭

Oh, My Love

Pairing - Johnson (Reprisal) x Fem!Reader

Summary - On some days, we all need a little pick me up.

Word Count - 739

Warnings - reader feels insecure, heated make out session, mention of female anatomy, no fem pronouns used, Johnson feeling you up, no use of y/n, kind of nsfw???

A/N - some demon possessed me to write this at 2 in the morning last night.

The lamplight shaded the room in a beautiful gold, providing a warmth to your shabby apartment. A singer’s broken heart crooned through the radio, his shaky voice almost weeping. Outside, the last remnants of August’s sun finally laid to rest. Saturday night’s heat could be felt from the open kitchen window. Summer would be over soon, a melancholic knowledge you refused to grasp. 

You stared at your reflection in the full length mirror, unsure of the person standing in your place. The tight fitting, hot red dress hugged your waist, accentuating every dip and curve. A silver pendant rested in between the space of your cleavage. Your bare thigh was exposed from a slit in the dress, peeking out no matter how you stood. 

In truth, it was gorgeous. It just didn’t sit right on you. Your reflection looked as if it were warping itself, constantly looking for a better angle. The satin material bunched around your waist whenever you moved. It felt constricting, as if it were sewn into your skin. You looked like a daughter who got into their mother’s closet, playing pretend for a night. 

Your hands fidgeted with the thin straps, pulling at them as if it might help. It snapped against your skin, staying in place. 

A pair of hands settled on your hips, before their lips came to ghost over the shell of your ear. His breath fanned against your skin, leaving a dusting of kisses down to your exposed shoulder. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned back into his chest. Familiarity coiled in your stomach as the sweet smell of nicotine coated your nose. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Johnson purred, the edge of his teeth grazing your neck. You flushed at his words, not bothering to respond. A cool breeze came in through the window, fluttering the sheer curtains. It offered a temporary relief from the dense summer heat. 

“Open your eyes, doll.” 

You swallowed, slowly raising your eyes to the mirror. Johnson’s black eyes peered at you through your reflection. His hand traveled down, squeezing at the soft flesh beneath the fitted fabric. He nuzzled the side of your head, much like a dog would to its owner. 

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve laid my eyes on, angel.” He whispered, taking the skin of your ear in between his teeth. 

You hissed at the stinging sensation, watching his reflection as his hands continued to roam over your figure. His palm cupped your breast, softly kneading it through the fabric. Arousal pooled in your stomach, causing you to rub your thighs together. 

“Let me hear you say it.” 

You broke eye contact, focusing on a crack embedded in the wall. He pressed himself further against you, his bulge prodding at the swell of your ass. A breathless gasp left your parted lips from the movement. You could feel heat radiate off of him, washing over you. 

“Go ahead.” He urged, glimmering eyes trained on your face. His firm hold on you never faltered, only further pulling you against him til you swore you could feel the thud of his heartbeat against your back. 

“I’m pretty-

“Beautiful.” He corrected, tone leaving no room for argument. 

You sharply inhaled. “I’m beautiful.” 

He hummed in satisfaction, and turned you around to properly face him. His dark eyes swept over your features, a deep hunger swimming in his pupil. The palm of his hand lazily rested on your behind. 

“You need to be kinder to yourself, doll.” He said, nudging his nose against your. You wet your lips, before grasping onto his shirt collar. His mouth was sweet against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip for entrance. The straps to your dress dangled over your shoulder, from the sudden movement. Johnson’s arms snaked around you, his fingers pressing into your back, trying to bring you closer. You felt him nip at your bottom lip, bringing a moan out of you. Your fingers couldn’t help but weave themselves in between his curls, harshly tugging at them. His body pushed against yours, until your back met the mirror. 

Johnson felt like summer nights, your head out the car window as the window whipped your hair. The taste of him was overwhelming, yet you found yourself divulging in him again and again. 

“Pretty…” He mumbled against your mouth, pulling at the zipper of your dress. 

Summer didn’t always have to end, at least not tonight. 

[bbyquokka]

🥲 I think we both know what I'm thinking

Binnie straddling you/ helping you while working out

Just

Pls

Me when

ME WHEEEEEEEEEEN 😭😭😭

what happens at the gym, stays at the gym・‧₊

SMUT BELOW CUT – MDNI

warnings: gn reader, suggestive themes, implication of public oral sex, pet name, exercise, established relationship, semi proof read words: 0.7k ~ (726)

this work is not to be reposted and/or translated! feedback & reblogs are highly advised and appreciated

“b-binnie!” you whimper, pushing the bar up. your arms are burning, sweat dripping down your temples. changbin laughs softly as he approaches your side.

you've missed a few work out sessions with your boyfriend, changbin, due to your sudden hectic work life. you didn't think missing a few days would have that much of an impact on you; but it does.

you feel like you're back at the beginning. everything feeling extremely heavy and your body getting exhausted quicker than usual. changbin reassured you that it's normal considering you've missed a few sessions.

“this.. fucking.. hurts!!” you stutter, groaning heavily as you shakily raise the bar. you're flat on your back doing a chest press. you love working out with changbin because he corrects your positions, gives you positivity and motivation as well as encouragement.

plus, you get to see him in tight clothing. grey sweats, trainers and tight, black t-shirt that hugs and moulds to his chest and arms; hugging his muscles. not only that, you also get to see him in his natural, bare face state and curls, those curls you love so much.

“well yes. it's not suppose to tickle, y/n.”

“it's not suppose to tickle, y/n.” you mock making changbin laugh.

“now now, be nice.” changbin smirks. you frown at him, sweat tickling your temple as it slowly rolls down.

you lift the bar up before bringing it down to your chest. your eyes widen a little in panic, muscle failure slowly setting in as you struggle to push it up.

“binn–”

“its ok. I've got you.” changbin straddles you as he puts his hands under the bar. he helps you to lift it up and rest it on the rack. you let your jelly like arms flop to the side, a wave of relief washing over you as you thank the heavens above for having someone like changbin by your side.

you look up at him, gaze meeting halfway. due to the sheer panic, neither of you thought about the position you're both in; until now.

changbin looks down at you, taking in every detail your body has to offer through your workout clothing. his mind rushing with thoughts; dirty, sinful thoughts.

he wishes he could take you right here, right now. rip off your clothing and just penetrate you, have his way with you. changbin is a big fan of public sex, so it's no surprise he feels like this.

plus, he can tell you're thinking the same thing, considering how your cheeks have suddenly turned a very crimson red.

“what's up, bun?” he hums, reaching down and stroking your flush cheeks.

“n-nothing.” you squeak.

“nothing?” he questions, cocking his head to this side. you give him a small and quick nod, biting you lip gently. “doesn't seem like nothing to me.”

“its just.. you're straddling me and i–uh, well..”

“go on, baby.” he encourages.

“i was just thinking back to all those times were, you would straddle me and uh, fuckmyface.” changbin groans, feeling his dick twitch in his pants.

“your pretty little mouth.” he hums. “it's so small and cute that it can't handle my size and girth.”

“binnie..” you whisper. his hand trails from your cheek to your lips, thumb stroking your bottom lip. you slowly part your lips, changbin pushing his thumb inside as you suckle. you wrap your tongue around it, humming and soaking it in saliva; as you would if you was giving him head.

“fuck.. you're so mesmerising..” blood rushes down south. his cock slowly standing proud as he watches you. the warmth and wetness your mouth and tongue provides makes it impossible for changbin to keep his composure.

“b-binnie.. fuck my mouth. please.” you beg, gazing at him with doe eyes. changbin shivers, mumbling a “fuck it” before getting off you.

he takes you by the wrist, dragging you through the gym and ignoring the stares and whispers from other members of the public. he rushes to the toliets, pushing you inside a cubical before locking the door.

“get down on your knees.” he commands. you do as he says, watching him shakily fumble with his sweatpants and underwear. he pulls them down, letting them pool at his ankles before grabbing the sides of your head.

“be good for me and open. let me put that pretty little mouth to good use.”

note: yay, finally got round to this, lol. don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i’d love to hear your thoughts ‹3

tags [open]: @sstarryoong ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @skizzel-reblogs ; @writerracha ; @oshimee ; @pixigreen

[theemporium]

I feel like Annabeth is Max coded and Charles is Grover coded. Max and Annabeth both seem rude and closed off from the outside but both are fiercely protective of the ones they love. The whole arc of episode 4 where Annabeth tries to be the perfect daughter but she’s not good enough for Athena is just like Max and Jos.

Grover and Charles both have this dream that they’ve been wanting to accomplish their whole lives. For Grover it’s finding Pan, for Charles it’s being world champion with Ferrari. Both of them have people they look up to who have tried and failed to achieve this goal. And they both doubt if they are good enough to get what they want.

Now if Max, Charles, and Reader were all on a quest, and reader pulled a Percy and tried to sacrifice herself when she was already injured. Max would be so angry and guilty. Meanwhile Charles would be so soft and concerned and taking care of her.

-💎

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! ESPECIALLY WITH THE MAX COMPARISON I AM GOING TO😭😭😭😭

nah but reader being the one who’s literally on the brink of death, can barely keep herself up let alone stand—but seeing that it was her own brash act that caused jos/athena to be pissed off and embarrassed? like she would be damned if her boys suffer and die because of her actions

and she’s just so fiercely loyal that it pisses max off sometimes because she’s so self-sacrificing but charles gets it. he gets it because he would do the same for either one of them. even though he has this dream, when it comes down to it he just wants to protect and care for those in his life and he would do it without a second thought

and the sheer fucking relief in max when he realises she’s alive😭like charles always had faith and knew she would come out the other side. but max has this bitter, horrible feeling that another person he cares about is going to leave/abandon/die on him and its another life he will guilt himself over

but then he sees her afterwards and he is so fucking relieved and so angry but he just can’t let go of her😭

[justanotherhh]

THE STRIKER AND ALASTOR ASPEC4ASPEC RELATIONSHIP SAGA

off the back of this post

@justletmeon12 this ought to exist outside of notes honestly:

justletmeon12 said: Now I suddenly want them to meet in S2. They hate each other because everyone in Hell hates everyone else when they meet, and whatever convoluted plot has caused the crossover has them briefly on the same side. Striker starts griping about everyone making it seem like a sex thing, because most of life ISN’T SEX, and Alastor looks at him like he’s the only rational person in Hell and offers to buy him a drink later. justanotherhh said: @justletmeon12 striker and alastor go out for drinks and it’s absolutely chill and there’s no tension whatsoever and they both sigh in relief (and then they go on their villainous ways, content that they can try to kill each other next time without anyone making it weird!) justletmeon12 said: @justanotherhh The next time someone (definitely not Vox, no sirree) wants to put a hit out on the Radio Demon, Striker volunteers to do it cheap, because succeed or fail, at least it won’t be awkward. justanotherhh said: @justletmeon12 sdfghjgfdsdfhj alastor and striker having a sort of chill “we can be enemies who try to kill each other” situation that makes everyone around them ??????????? because their framing for relationships is so alloromantic and they don’t understand this 5d galaxy brained dynamic at all justletmeon12 said: @justanotherhh “Sooo, are you two…” [awkward, vaguely obscene gesture] “Et tu, Angel Dust?” “That tears it. Free booze isn’t worth it. Next time, we’re getting drinks somewhere nobody knows either of us.” “Ha! Good luck with that, Strikering. There isn’t a bar in the city where I’m not a regular or banned!” justanotherhh said: @justletmeon12 ET TU ANGEL DUST!!!!!!!!!! cannot tell if it’s harder being aspec irl or in hell 😂😂😭😭 justletmeon12 said: @justanotherhh Well, murder isn’t an option in real life… justanotherhh said: @justletmeon12 *alastor grinning shiftily* … noooo…. sure…. isn’t……………. justletmeon12 said: @justanotherhh (I was hoping you’d do that)

@creepysora and I were also talking about how in all likelihood Striker wouldn't really be able to kill Alastor, because of the sheer power-difference (but, you never know... Niffty killed Adam after all), but it just becomes their way of hanging out. "FINALLY violence that's understood on both parties sides to be completely un-erotic and non-romantic!"

creepysora: I keep thinking that veeeeery slowly, Striker taking jobs to "assassinate" (unsuccessfully) the Radio Demon just start to morph into excuses to hang out with someone who Gets It. Neither knows how this happened. They start getting breakfast before trying to kill each other. Maybe this overlord can survive the class war actually. Mutually "hes useful so I cant kill him yet" delusion. Do they become better people through this? No. They encourage each other to kill people hitting on them. But everyone else surely is unhappy about this weird and unexpected development. not friends not enemies not lovers not rivals not a qpr but a secret fifth thing (aspecs desperate to connect with someone like them)

it's a good thing they both enjoy murder and violence so much, really gives them something to talk about