#not to be a live love laugh sign or whatever but if you focus on What Is Bad solely when you interact with shit

[another-cliche-title]

everyone on the internet when a artstyle exists: OMG i HATE this ARTSTYLE it's fucking EVERYWHERe it's always THE FUCKING SAME I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT FUUUUCJKK

everyone on the internet when the entire animation industry of an entire country (Japan) has been basically using the same artstyle for years (Anime): this is good actually :3 (Gains ability to complain about the western (read: american) industry but not the japanese one because weeb)

[isak-dot-gov]

Compact and efficient

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Short!reader

Word count: 1044

Based on this request.

My masterlist :)

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Living with Paige Bueckers had its perks—she was kind, funny, and always up for an adventure. There was never a dull moment when she was around, whether it was spontaneous road trips, surprise date nights, or even something as simple as cozy movie marathons on the couch. But one of the unexpected challenges of dating someone much taller than you was...reaching things.

You would think that after all this time, you’d have gotten used to it. You’d have figured out some clever system or bought a stool specifically for this kind of thing. But no, there you were again, standing on your tiptoes in the kitchen, straining to grab a mug from the top shelf. Your fingers brushed against the handle, but it remained just out of reach.

You huffed in frustration, glaring at the cupboard as if it were the one responsible for your vertically challenged situation. Why did everything have to be placed so high up? And why did Paige insist on putting things away in the hardest-to-reach places? You weren’t sure if it was intentional or if her long limbs just made her oblivious to your struggle, but either way, it was maddening.

Just as you were about to give up and make do with a different mug—the purple one that you didn’t really like, but could actually reach—you heard a familiar laugh behind you.

“Need some help, short stuff?” Paige’s voice was filled with amusement as she leaned against the doorway with that signature smirk on her face.

You turned around and shot her a playful glare, crossing your arms in mock annoyance. “You know, not everyone can be a giant like you.”

Paige walked over, her tall frame effortlessly filling the small kitchen. She didn’t even have to stretch as she reached up, grabbing the mug from the shelf with one hand and handing it to you with a mockingly exaggerated bow. “Your mug, milady,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. This was a regular occurrence between you two—Paige teasing you about your height, and you pretending to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved the attention. There was something endearing about the way she always came to your rescue, even if she never let you forget it afterward.

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking the mug from her. “One of these days, I’ll figure out how to do this on my own.”

“Sure you will,” she said with a wink, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her side. Her warmth was comforting, and you couldn’t help but relax against her. “But until then, I’ll be here to rescue you from all those high shelves.”

You leaned into her, enjoying the closeness, the way her arm felt like a protective shield around you. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Paige said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Her lips lingered there for a moment, and you felt a shiver of warmth spread through you. “Teasing you is one of my favourite things.”

You groaned, but the smile on your face betrayed you. “I should’ve known what I was getting into when I started dating a basketball player.”

“Hey, you knew what you signed up for,” Paige said with a laugh. “It’s not my fault you’re so tiny.”

“Tiny?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look up at her. “I prefer ‘compact and efficient.’”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” She chuckled, giving you a playful squeeze before letting you go. Her hands lingered on your hips for a moment longer than necessary, making your heart skip a beat. “Anyway, what do you need the mug for? Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea,” you said, turning back to the counter. You tried to focus on preparing the tea, but Paige’s presence behind you was impossible to ignore. Even when she wasn’t trying, she had a way of commanding the space around her. “Want to join me?”

Paige smiled, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms as she watched you. “Sure, why not? I’ll even reach for the sugar for you, if you ask nicely.”

You threw a kitchen towel at her, and she dodged it effortlessly, her laughter filling the small kitchen. Despite her teasing, you knew that Paige loved taking care of you in her own way. Whether it was reaching things on the top shelf, holding your hand in a crowded place, or just being there when you needed her, she always had your back.

As you poured the hot water into the mugs, you glanced over at her, feeling a surge of affection for the woman who had become such a huge part of your life—literally and figuratively. It wasn’t just her height that made her presence so big. It was the way she filled every room with her energy, the way she made you feel safe, loved, and never alone.

“Thanks, P,” you said after a moment, your tone softer now.

She tilted her head, her teasing expression melting into something more tender. “For what?”

“For always being there when I need you,” you said, glancing up at her with a small smile. “Even if you make fun of me for it.”

Paige’s grin softened into a warm smile as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a hug. She rested her chin on top of your head, and for a moment, the world outside the kitchen seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

“Always, babe,” she whispered, her voice low and comforting. “I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, sinking into the embrace. In moments like these, it didn’t matter that she teased you about your height or that you sometimes struggled to reach things. What mattered was that she was there—always, without fail, making sure you were okay, making sure you knew you were loved.

As you stood there in her arms, you realised that while being shorter than your girlfriend might have its challenges, it also came with a whole lot of love, laughter, and—yes—teasing. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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

[wolverigrl]

Hormonal

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I can't anymore with this man. I'm not quite sure with this part, bit I still you enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of Body Dysmorphic Order, angsty, a bit of fluff

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It had been almost two years since Hugh and I started dating, and life had finally settled into a wonderful routine. After the initial whirlwind of being labeled Hollywood's Power Couple, the constant media attention had finally calmed down. But even though the paparazzi had shifted their focus to new drama, we were still very much the couple that people looked up to - whether we liked it or not.

Hugh and I had been filming The Greatest Showman together, and it had been a dream come true for both of us. Playing Charity Barnum alongside him as P.T. Barnum was not only a professional highlight but a personal one. Every day, we got to share scenes, rehearse, and spend quality time together on set.

I'd also gotten close to his kids, Oscar, who was 15, and Ava, who was 10. Oscar was a typical teenager - sometimes distant but warm when it mattered. We bonded over our shared love for movies and music, and I had taken him to a few smaller premieres, which was pretty cool for him. Ava, on the other hand, was full of energy, always dragging me into whatever creative project she had going on. She loved to ask me about the costumes on set, always asking if I could sneak her something "cool" from the wardrobe department. We'd grown really close, and I adored being part of their lives.

Even Hugh's ex-wife, Deborra, had been nothing but gracious. I was worried about how our relationship might affect things with her, but she was kind and supportive from the start. We'd even had a few chats over coffee, which eased any awkwardness. There was no competition or resentment - just a shared love for Hugh and the kids.

But lately, something had shifted inside me. It started with the paparazzi photos. They had caught me in unflattering poses or oversized sweaters, and suddenly, the media was speculating that I might be pregnant.

One morning, while Hugh was making coffee, I decided to make light of the rumors.

I sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through my phone and looking at the latest article headline: 'Is y/n pregnant? Signs Point to Yes!' I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, babe." said casually, glancing at him as he poured his coffee, "Apparently I'm Pregnant."

Hugh, mid-sip, immediately choked on his coffee, sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "What?" he coughed out, his eyes wide in shock before a laugh escaped him. "What are you talking about?"

I snickered, showing him the article. "According to the tabloids, we're expecting!"

Hugh’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but then he tilted his head, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. “Well, your period’s still coming, though... right?”

I froze. The smile on my face faltered for a moment, and I realized, in that split second, that my period hadn’t come. It was late. Very late. I hadn’t even thought about it properly until now.

I must’ve looked shocked, because Hugh’s smile faded slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Right?”

I snapped out of it quickly, forcing a nod. “Yeah, of course. It’s just late.”

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I was serious. Then, with that signature Hugh charm, he broke into a grin, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

"How do they come up with this stuff?" He came over and kissed the top of my head. "You think they'd run out of things to speculate about?"

I laughed along, but something about the rumors hit closer to home than I was letting on. My body had changed recently. Despite working out regularly and eating well, I had gained a little weight. It wasn't much, but enough to make me feel insecure. And with the tabloids dissecting every detail of my appearance, it had started to eat away at me.

Hugh didn't seem to notice - or, if he did, he never mentioned it. He was as loving and affectionate as ever, but for the last few weeks, I had started pulling away from him, especially when things got intimate. I couldn't help but think about my body every time his hands roamed over my skin. I wasn't the woman I was when we first met, and I hated that it was getting to me.

That night, after we'd finished filming, we finally had some quiet, time together. Hugh was in a playful mood, and as we curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in my hand, I could feel him inching closer. His fingers brushed lightly along my thigh, and I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.

"I miss this, love." he murmured against my ear, his voice deep and sultry. His lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, and I shivered under his touch. His hand slowly slipping under my shirt, inching up toward my skin.

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I wanted to lose myself in him. But as his hand started to lift my shirt, I tensed

"Hugh.." I whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He slightly pulled back, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" I swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. "I can't right now."

His frustration was palpable as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. "You've been pulling away from me for weeks, y/n. Every time I try to be close to you, you shut me out."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not you." I said quietly. "It's me."

Hugh sighed, his expression softening as he reached for my hand. "Then tell me. Talk to me. What's going on?"

I hesitated, my heart racing in my chest. I didn't want to burden him with my insecurities, but I couldn't keep bottling it up either.

"I've gained weight." I admitted in a small voice, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. "I've been working out, eating right, doing everything I'm supposed to, and my body's still changing. I feel.. different. And every time you touch me, l just.. I don't feel like myself."

Hugh's face softened as he pulled me into his arms. "Y/n." he whispered, his voice full of love, "you're beautiful and I don't care if your body changes. I love you, all of you. always will."

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I buried my face in his chest, grateful for his warmth, his understanding. "I know." I whispered, my voice breaking. "But it's hard. The media the comments, the expectations.. just don't feel like I measure up anymore."

Hugh tilted my chin up, his eyes locked with mine. "You don't have to measure up to anything. You're enough, y/n. You've always been enough."

I nodded, wiping my tears away. His words brought comfort, but the insecurities still lingered in the back of my mind. I knew I had to work through them, but having Hugh by my side made it feel a little less scary.

The next morning I woke up feeling lighter as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I decided to take control of the narrative. If people were going to speculate about my body, I will be the one to set the record straight.

I grabbed my phone and took a deep breath before snapping a photo of myself in my workout clothes. I wasn't hiding anything. No filters, no posing to hide the weight I'd gained. Just me, as I was.

I opened Instagram, uploaded the photo, and typed my caption:

>>y/n instagram: Alright, let's clear some things up. No, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I've gained some weight. And honestly? That's okay. Bodies thange, hormones do their thing and sometimes despite working out and eating right, your body just decides to go through a phase. I've been feeling insecure lately, and I know I'm not alone in that. But here's the thing - I'm still me. I still love my body, and I'm working on being kinder to myself every day. So if anyone else is out there feeling the same way, just know you're not alone. We're all more than our appearances, but we're allowed to love ourselves in every stage we go through.

Now, if you'll excuse me, l'm off to eat a piece of cake. No guilt, just love.😋<<

I hit post, my heart racing as I watched the comments flood in. The outpouring of support was immediate.

>>logan1noir: Thank you for being so real! You're beautiful no matter what!<<

>>celesty634: This made me cry, I've been feeling the same way, and it helps to know I'm not alone❤️<<

>>dcxmrvl22: You are GORGEOUS! Keep shining, girl🫶🏻<<

>>chrisevans: Proud of you!!❤️<<

>>blakelively: How do you look good in everything??<<

>>vancityreynolds: As your humble friend, I demand you to stop setting impossible standards for the rest of us!<<

>>zendaya: QUEEN👑<<

>>thehughjackman: Always proud of you my love❤️<<

Later that evening, Hugh and I hosted a small dinner at our house. Just a few close friends - Blake, Ryan, Zendaya, Zac Efron and some other close cast members were there.

The wine was flowing, and the laughter was contagious. But all day, I had been feeling a little off. I was moody, switching from happy to sad in the span of minutes, and I was feeling unusually hormonal.

Hugh noticed, of course. He always did. And I couldn't help but tease him throughout the evening. Little touches here and there, suggestive whispers when no one was looking. His reactions were priceless, the way his jaw would clench, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're playing with fire, darling." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin as we stood by the kitchen island.

I smirked, leaning closer to him, my lips brushing against his ear. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hugh shot me a look that sent a chill down my spine, his hand resting on my lower back, his fingers teasing the hem of my dress. But before he could answer, Ryan came strolling over, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Ryan teased, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the two of us. "You two seem a little preoccupied tonight."

I laughed, pulling away from Hugh slightly, but not before I felt his hand give my waist a playful squeeze. Hugh shook his head, his expression amused but clearly flustered by the interruption.

"Just enjoying the evening." Hugh replied with a chuckle, trying to act casual, though I could see the heat still lingering in his eyes.

Ryan leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "I hope you two are careful, though. With all that tension, you might just end up giving those pregnancy rumors something real to work with."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Blake sauntered over, a knowing smile on her face. "He's right, you know.: she said, her eyes twinkling with humor. "You two have that look - like you're up to something."

Blake's eyes lingered on me a little too long, and I noticed her frown slightly, as if reading something in my expression that I hadn't yet figured out myself.

Later in the evening, after dinner was served and the conversation had flowed naturally from movie projects to family gossip, I excused myself to the kitchen for a moment to gather my thoughts. I was feeling off - moody, emotional, and kind of disconnected.

Blake followed me, her eyes sharp as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Okay, spill it."

I blinked at her you talking "What are you talking about?"

Blake tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You've been acting... odd tonight. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Blake, no! I'm definitely not pregnant! I even joked with Hugh about that this morning."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze still concerned. "It's just... I've been pregnant three times now, and I can spot the signs. You're giving off all the vibes."

I sighed, leaning against the counter and rubbing my temples. "I don't know.. I mean I've been feeling weird lately, but I just thought it was stress. l've gained some weight, my moods are all over the place, but I don't think I'm pregnant."

Blake softened, placing a hand on my arm. "If you ever wanna talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

I smiled at her, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Blake. I think I just need to figure out what's going on with my body."

The night ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and chatting as they left. Ryan, of course, couldn't resist making one last joke. "Don't go making any little Jackmans tonight, okay? Or at least wait until we're gone."

I rolled my eyes, waving them off, "Shut it, Ryan!"

Once the house was quiet and the dishes were done, I finally let out a deep breath, grateful for the silence. But as soon as I sat down on the couch, I felt a familiar cramp in my lower abdomen.

I froze, my eyes widening. "No way!"

I hurried to the bathroom, and sure enough, there it was. My period had arrived. I wasn't pregnant.

Relief washed over me, mixed with an odd sense of joy. After all the speculation and confusion, my body had finally given me an answer.

I returned to the living room, finding Hugh still in the kitchen, cleaning the last wine glasses. He looked up as I entered, and I couldn't help but grin.

"What's with the smile?" he asked, setting the glasses down and coming over to me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "You're going to laugh." Hughs brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Well I just got my period!"

Hugh blinked, then laughed softly, pulling me closer.

"Well, that's good to know. l'm glad you're not stressed about it anymore."

"Me too!" I said, leaning into his embrace, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

He kissed my forehead, his hands resting on my hips as he looked down at me, his voice soft and teasing. "So, since you're really not pregnant and everything's fine.. does that mean we can stop avoiding each other now?"

I looked up at him, biting my lip playfully. "You know I was thinking the same thing."

Hugh's eyes darkened with that similiar heat, and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the kitchen counter, his lips crashing into mine.

His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, and this time, I didn't stop him. I didn't feel the need to. I felt confident, desired, and most importantly, loved. As his hands slipped under my shirt, his touch igniting a fire inside me, I let myself give in to him completely.

"Hugh..." I whispered, my voice breathless as his lips trailed down my neck.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own filled with love and desire. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection for the man in front of me.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And with that, we lost ourselves in each other, the weight of the past few weeks melting away as we found comfort and passion in each other's arms. The insecurities, the rumors, the stress - it all disappeared as we reminded each other of what really mattered.

In the next morning, the world felt a little brighter. I've got an overwhelming support after my post and Hugh was by my side through everything. We spent the morning lazily wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking about the future.

Hugh kissed me softly, his hand gently tracing patterns on my skin.

"You know, I love you just the way you are, right? No matter what."

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I know and I love you too. Always."

Our love had been tested, but we came out stronger than ever. And as I lay there in his arms, I knew that no natter what life threw our way, we would face it together.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[shitsndgiggs]

Heyy love your Storlien i was wondering if you could do a Story with kenan yildiz where the reader ignores kenan as a prank I would love for this story to be kinda long and for it to continue throughout the day

Got inspired by the prank stories you have done recently! Been loving those

Please consider this one 🙏🩷

IGNORING HIM - KENAN YILDIZ

Ignoring Kenan as a prank

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The morning sun peeked through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. Kenan's arm was draped over my waist, his usual way of waking up, pulling me closer for a morning cuddle. "Morning, babe," he mumbled sleepily, his voice husky with sleep.

Normally, I’d respond with a sweet “morning” and a kiss, but today, I decided to play a little prank I’d seen online. I was going to ignore him all day. Just to see how he'd react.

I turned over, facing away from him, and stared at the wall, suppressing a smile. There was a beat of silence before Kenan’s grip on my waist loosened slightly.

He propped himself up on one elbow, confusion evident in his voice as he asked, "Babe? Everything okay?"

I bit my lip to keep from laughing and just stayed silent, pretending to be lost in thought.

Kenan frowned, leaning over to try and catch my gaze. "Did I do something?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned now.

Without a word, I slipped out of bed, grabbed my phone, and headed to the bathroom, leaving Kenan behind in a state of complete bewilderment.

The morning progressed with Kenan trailing behind me like a lost puppy, his confusion turning into mild panic. I went about my routine, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, and heading to the kitchen to make breakfast, all without acknowledging him.

Kenan was relentless, though. He followed me into the kitchen, his eyes searching my face for any sign of what was wrong. "Babe, seriously, talk to me. Did I forget something? Are you mad at me?"

I busied myself with scrambling eggs, ignoring the pleading tone in his voice. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I could tell Kenan was nearing his limit. He suddenly walked up beside me, pulling out his wallet and handing me his credit card with a hopeful smile. "Here, take my card. Go shopping, or get whatever you want, okay? Just please talk to me."

The sight of his bribe nearly broke my resolve. I had to turn away and pretend to focus on the stove to stop myself from bursting out laughing. I took the card, just to play along, but still didn’t say a word.

Kenan watched me, waiting for a reaction, but when none came, he let out a heavy sigh. "You’re killing me here, you know that?" he muttered, retreating to the table to eat the breakfast I placed in front of him.

As the day went on, Kenan’s worry started to turn into frustration. He tried everything—offering to take me out for lunch, suggesting we watch my favorite movie, even proposing a spontaneous day trip to the beach.

But I stayed strong, only glancing at him briefly before continuing to ignore him.

By the afternoon, Kenan had had enough. He cornered me in the living room, gently grabbing my shoulders. "Okay, seriously, what’s going on? You’ve been ignoring me all day. Just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it. Whatever it is, I’ll make it right."

I almost caved then, seeing the genuine worry in his eyes. But instead, I just gave him a small smile and walked past him, heading toward the bedroom.

Kenan stood there, stunned for a moment, before letting out a groan of frustration. "Fine! You want to ignore me? Two can play that game!" he shouted after me.

That’s when Kenan decided to get petty. As evening approached, he started ignoring me back.

At first, it was kind of funny, but then he got really into it, going out of his way to avoid looking at me, answering in short, clipped tones whenever I tried to engage.

At dinner, he didn’t even sit next to me. He plopped down on the far end of the couch, scrolling through his phone like I wasn’t even there.

I couldn’t help but smile at how dramatic he was being, but it was clear he was getting more annoyed by the minute.

Finally, as we were getting ready for bed, Kenan threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "I give up! What did I do? Just tell me, please!"

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The sight of him so worked up, with that cute pout on his face, was too much. I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach as I tried to explain.

"It was a prank, Kenan! I was just messing with you!"

Kenan stared at me in disbelief for a moment before a slow grin spread across his face. "Are you serious? You ignored me all day just to mess with me?"

I nodded, still laughing. "I saw it online and thought it would be funny."

Kenan shook his head, chuckling as he pulled me into his arms. "You’re something else, you know that? But don’t think I’m letting you off that easy."

I looked up at him, curious. "What do you mean?"

He smirked, leaning in close. "Oh, I’m definitely getting my revenge tomorrow. Just you wait."

I playfully shoved him, but Kenan just laughed, pulling me into bed and wrapping me up in his arms.

[sant-riley]

[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]

A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.

The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro

Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)

~

You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.

Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.

Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.

"Thanks Gaz! I love it!

"And not mine?"

"You're on thin ice, old man."

Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.

Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀

Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.

Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀

If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.

"You like me that much Bonnie?"

He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached

Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.

The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.

"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.

Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.

Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.

Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.

Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.

If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.

Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.

Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.

"You're the new kid, get to it then."

"Ghosttttt-"

"Don't Ghost me."

Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.

Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.

Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.

Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.

Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.

Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom

If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)

[polyo-nym-y]

Delightful Debauchery

[CH.1: When Tainted Souls Meet.]

Human! Alastor x Human! Fem! Reader

[Word Count: 2,844 ]

[Content Warnings: This Ch. is SFW, however, the story will delve into NSFW, So minors are still asked to NOT INTERACT. This story will eventually focus on exploring sex as well as darker themes revolving around Alastor being a serial killer (gore/blood/death). But for this Ch. there isn’t much to warn about!]

Once you allow blood to spill on your hands it’ll become a stain you’ll never wash away. No matter how clean your skin may appear, the etching of your sin will forever follow you. Permeating layers of flesh and seeping into your very soul.

You know you’re damned to an eternity in Hell. It’s something you have come to terms with rather quickly. So, you thought, might as well spend the time you have left on earth however you please. You’ve already sealed your fate, now it’s time to enjoy life amongst the living whilst it lasts.

The sky was clear, allowing the sun to beat down without anything obscuring its rays. Your skin felt sticky as heat weighed heavily in the thick and muggy air. You stood on an unshaded sidewalk, your eyes following the brick and wooden exterior of the building in front of you. A sign outside read in golden lettering ‘Crescent City Radio Station, WWNO 999 on your AM dial!’.

By now you must’ve read that sign a million times, your brain lagging trying to process that you were actually here. The folder you brought with you was being used as a fan, desperately trying to cool yourself off. The mix of the humid heat and anxiety had you teetering on overstimulation.

“C’mon, don’t clam up* now.” You quickened your fanning as the air you created lightly blew your hair back. “You came all this way...”

You continued muttering to yourself as you willed your feet to move from the sidewalk. Taking hesitant steps, you approached the building's front. Your eyes following the ornate etching on the front window. The interior curtains were closed, allowing no sneak peeks inside.

Your gloved fingers twitch over the door handle. After taking one last breath you force your signature smile, a tool you used often. Opening the door, you slowly entered as your eyes swept over the lobby space. The cooler air of the building soothed you as your shoulders relaxed. You stood in the middle of the lobby with curious eyes. Soft music played from a gramophone behind the front desk. The ceiling was high and the space was clean. Arguably, one of the fancier places you’ve seen as of recent.

So enthralled by the interior, you hadn’t noticed the set of eyes burning holes into you as you approached the front desk. As you turned and settled your eyes forward you flinched back as you were met with a cloud of smoke being blown at you. The receptionists' annoyed stare was accompanied by an insincere smile as she ashed her cigarette into the nearby ashtray. “Hm? Oh no I’m still here, love. Mhm, yeah.” She spoke into the phone that was wedged against her ear with her shoulder. “Just a drab dame* waltzed in so it’s nothing important.”

You couldn’t stop your nose from scrunching up as your eyes narrowed down on the seated women. But the receptionist seemed to pay no mind as she belted out a haughty laugh at whatever was said on the other end of the phone. Clearing your throat, you stepped up to the front desk and settled your gloved hands atop the shiny wooden surface. “Excuse me-” you hesitated as the receptionist's sharp glare shot back up to you. “This is actually something important, if you wouldn't mind?” Not like it's your job or anything, you thought to yourself.

You watched as her stare twisted into a sneer directed up to you. “One second, Val.” With a big huff she would drop the phone from her ear and press the mic end against her chest to ‘mute’ it. “Ugh, what do you want? I’m kind of busy here.”

Your gaze remained narrowed but you managed to bring back your smile, albeit tense. “Terribly busy, I can see.”

“Tch. Listen, girlie-“ The phone still in her hand was lifted to point up at you. “Whoever you’re here to see doesn’t have time to talk with fans no matter how important you think it is-“

You interrupted her with a laugh, “Hah! No- I’m not a fan- well, I’m not not a fan-“ you paused trying to stop yourself from tripping over your own words. The rude interaction caught you off guard, with your nerves already being high. “I’m here to discuss the possibility of employment.”

“The station isn’t looking to hire, hun.” The woman stretched her shoulders back with a scoff. “Not to mention all the high pillows* are very busy-“

You glanced past her to the clock on the wall. “Actually, it’s noon.” Your eyes met the womens once more as you softened your expression to match your faux-smile. “I was hoping to speak with Mr. Heartfelt specifically. Based on his broadcasting schedule he should be taking a coffee break right now-“ you saw the concerned and disgusted look on the receptionist's face as she slowly stubbed her cigarette out. “Or so I’ve heard, uhm. Just- Please, at least ask him.”

“Not a fan, huh?” She looked you up and down as she set the phone down on the counter without hanging it up. “If it’s that egg* then I could care less if he's busy or not. So, sure. Especially if it means you'll leave me alone.” She said with a small shrug as she rolled her chair over to an intercom. Bringing the speaker to her ear as she pressed Alastors call button. Waiting only a moment for it to be picked up before she was smirking into the mic, “Mr. Heartfelt~, you have someone here for a meeting with you.”

You bounced nervously on your heels as you tried to listen in on whatever answer she was given. The receptionist's eyes flickered over to you as she held a toothy grin and hummed into the speaker. “Mhmm.” She lifted her free hand up to inspect her nails, idly. “Yeah, no you didn't have this on your calendar, mhm.” You cringed a bit and tried to reach out to her but she just continued speaking into the intercom. “Oh no, she made it very clear she was in fact not a fan.” She gave you a mocking thumbs up.

Your mouth opened in horror as the woman before you barked out a snobby laugh like a small purse dog. Unconsciously, your fingers tensed on the paper folder you were holding. Your head begins to race with anxiety at the fact this wretched woman might have just ruined your first impression.

But you will yourself to take a deep breath as the receptionist hangs the intercom and rolls back to her original spot. Her dark slender fingers picking the phone back up as she waves you off and gestures to the hall at her left. “Fourth door.” Was all she said before turning her attention back to her phone conversation. Despite your annoyance you offered a thank you. To which she groaned in response, “Ugh, dry up*.”

As the receptionist spun in her chair to completely turn her back to you, your smile fell flat. If I do get hired then she’s going to be a problem, you weighed your options as you slowly stepped around the front and down the hall you were directed to.

Anxiety won the battle against annoyance as you felt it's nauseating grip settle back in your chest. You found yourself in front of the fourth door quicker than you would've liked as you nervously inspected it. A beautiful dark wood with a golden plate reading Alastors name. For a moment, as you heard the receptionist bark out another laugh in the lobby, you debated on just leaving. But you thought, what do I have to lose?

Gently knocking your knuckles on the door, you leaned forward to listen for a reply. A muffled ‘Come in.’ was given and you flinched as if you didn’t expect him to answer. Your gloved hands fussed with your clothes and hair. Once you felt somewhat put together you settled your hand on the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Taking a single step over the threshold your eyes glanced across the office that the door opened into. Your smile shining as you began your practiced speech, “I apologize Mr. Heartfelt. I know I’m interrupting your busy schedule- and I must thank you for even giving me a chance to speak with you.” Your words were laced with perfectly crafted faux-confidence. But silence fell between you two as soon as your eyes met Alastors. An ominous chill seemed to fill the already cool office as you felt goosebumps rise on your skin. A feeling consumed both you and Alastor at that very moment, weighing heavy in the air like the humidity outside. But you couldn’t quite put your finger on it- it was an odd queasy feeling that slipped down your throat and settled in your stomach like a hard pill to swallow.

But the instinctual warning you felt in your gut was pushed to the side when you really took in Alastors appearance. Because, by God, everyone knew Alastor for his charming voice and radio persona. But to find out he had the looks to match? Now that had your brain nearly short circuiting. Your eyes ran over him unabashedly. Tan hands, long arms, broad shoulders and a proud chest. Fitted button up beneath a red vest with a perfect black bowtie and rounded glasses that rested atop the bridge of his nose. Though, what really caught your eye was his hair, cut in a style you had never seen before. If you looked closely, between the dark strands you could see the beginning of grays peppering throughout. Really the only physical indication of his age. You had to assume he must be in his forties and yet the man before didn’t look a day over thirty.

Alastor sat behind a large wooden desk with his hands folded together in front of him. His eyes caught yours, forcing your wandering gaze into tense eye contact. Stunned, you watched his eyes crinkle as his neutral smile grew into a grin. The sight of your wide eyes and lightly tinted cheeks was enough to distract him from his own instinctual unease.

You watched as his eyes slowly raked down to your toes before rushing back up. Clearing his throat he pushed his glasses up as he sent a wide smile to you. “Oh, no worries about that, dear. You caught me at a perfect time.” You knew that. “Please, sit.” He gestured a hand to the chair in front of his desk. Keeping his eyes trained on you as you seated yourself. He paid attention to your movements, how you sat and the expression you gave him. “I know Velvette said you were here to inquire about a job? I hope you weren’t misinformed- but we aren’t currently hiring.”

With your ankles crossed you sat with a straight back. Hands fiddling with the edge of the folder as it lay in your lap, your only outward cue of nervousness. “Oh, no, I am aware the radio station wasn’t advertising for workers.” Alastors elbows rested on his desk with clasped hands. His eyes staring into your own with what felt like never-waning intensity. As you swallowed audibly, you swore you saw his smile widen.

“And yet you are still here.” He said amused as his eyes narrowed. He was intrigued and so even though he had no intent on hiring you, he let you continue. “Why is that, Mrs-?”

“Miss.” You corrected before giving your name. “And it’s truly an honor to be meeting you, Mr. Heartfelt-”

He rose a single hand up to stop you, “The pleasure is all mine, dear. But please, Alastor is fine.” He leaned back into his chair as you heard it creak. His eyes darted down to the folder in your hands. “But as you were saying?”

Your eyes shot down to the folder he was staring at. “Oh, yes, well-“ Gently, you slid the folder across the desk towards him. “I’m a writer- researcher- journalist. Whatever you may need I promise I can provide.” As Alastor picked up the folder and opened it you cringed inwardly. Seeing how crinkled it was now from your constant nervous handling of it.

“This is..” His eyes read reports and details about certain events he has already reported on. Scripts for news readings that happened recently, many of which having details he himself hadn’t gotten. But what had his eyes widening was the last bulk of paper all reporting on the string of serial murders that Louisiana has faced within the decade or so.

“It’s my work. As you can see I take my work seriously and I’m able to get details you won’t find anywhere else.”

“How long have you lived here?” There were testimonies from people within the local community, names he recognized. Yet, he didn’t recognize you.

“I arrived here last week.” You lied through your teeth.

His eyes shot up to you as one long finger pointed against your papers. “This was all done within a week?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you began to internally panic. Was the lie too obvious? Usually you're better at this. “For the most part at least. The end which focuses on the Bayou Butcher has been more so a hobby of mine prior to moving here. So some research on that was done previously, I’ll admit.”

You didn’t notice the way his jaw clenched at your words. “Dangerous don’t you think? A sweet belle like you chasing after a killer.”

You laughed, earning a surprised look from Alastor. “I appreciate the concern but I can handle myself.”

His smile grew into a smirk as he stifled a mocking laugh. “I’m sure you can, darling, I’m sure you can...” He sighed deeply as he held the folder up to feign reading it more intently. One hand adjusting his glasses as he hummed. “But against a killer like this? Overestimating in one’s own abilities often leads to an early demise.”

“Underestimating in others will lead to worse.” You replied without skipping a beat.

Quick witted girl, he thought to himself. Such a young thing coming here with such a devastatingly good eye for this. Too bad, too bad.

“Your work is impressive, I’d be a fool to deny that.” He slowly stood from his seat as he slid the closed folder back to you.

You stood up abruptly to match him as you took your folder. “So does that mean-?”

“You’re hired? Heavens no!” He laughed as he rounded the desk and approached you. The height difference between you and him became alarmingly apparent as he stood beside you. Bending at the waist to ghost a hand on the small of your back as he gently ushered your frozen form towards his office door. “I did tell you we aren’t hiring, dear.”

“What- no, wait, Mr. Heartfelt-“ You pushed his hand away from your back and planted your feet. “But you said it was impressive. You read all the details I got- things you never got.”

His lip twitched at the attack to his own work. A bit of malice tainting the sweetness in his tone. “Come back when you have something actually worthwhile, darling. Cause that fancy writing? Ain’t nothin’ special.” For a moment you caught his transatlantic accent drop.

“Worth- WORTHWHILE?! I have connected deaths that the fuzz* haven’t even connected!”

“You’re theorizing. Nothing you have is substantial.”

“What are you expecting?? The killer's identity?” You asked, bewildered by his disregard towards you and your work.

A fire filled those beautiful eyes that looked up at him and he could feel their heat igniting something in him. Lifting one of his hands to rest his fingers over his grinning lips. A poor attempt to hide his amusement. “Yes, actually, that would be something worth my time.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll find the killer's identity. Then you’ll hire me, right?”

He straightened his back, caught off guard. But, who was he to push away a game he was certain he’d win? “Hah! Sure, why not-” He tensed as you yanked your glove off and extended a hand up to him. He raised a brow at it as if he had never seen one before.

“Shake on it. If I come back with honest to God proof of the Butchers identity. You have to hire me.” You narrowed your eyes up to him. “Deal?”

Oh, how fun. His hand took yours, completely enveloping it. “Deal.”

Let the game begin.

And without another word he watched you march out of his office, huffing and puffing. He trailed slowly behind to watch you leave through the front doors. A soft chuckle left him as he leaned against the front desk counter.

When he heard Velvette snicker with him he flinched and snapped his gaze down to her.

“Did you hire the dumb dora*?”

“No-“

“Looks like you wanted to~”

He squinted with a strained smile. “Go home, Velvette. You don’t actually work here.”

1920s Slang Used*

*Clam Up: To become silent suddenly.

*Dame: A woman.

*High Pillow: Person at the top, in charge.

*Egg: A man.

*Dry Up: Shut up, get lost.

*Fuzz: Police.

*Dumb Dora: A foolishly simple or dumb woman.

Credit where credits due!

Art Deco Banners: @/saradika

MDNI Banner: @/cafekitsune

Yellow Star Banner: @/cafekitsune

Tags:

@6esiree

[libraryofloveletters]

You Snooze, You Lose

John Stones x Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, losing touch, all the boys are so annoying, John is lowkey butthurt, a lot of assuming is happening, mentions of kidnapping, so many emotions, unspoken feelings and regrets, kyle is chief meddler, a little sexual humour, some friendly teasing, jack's love of gucci, divorce, alcohol and the consumption of.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: this is sooo self indulgent, shout out to pookie who helped me plot this <3 @themandaloriansdiaries

---

Childhood friends; a story as old as time..

Everyone knows how it ends, it either works out or it doesn't. You stay friends forever and live happily ever after or you love and you lose, you move on and they stay a chapter in the story of your life.

That's what John Stones was for you.

Your best friend from the age of 9 until you turned 19. The boy across the street, the one that walked you to school, the one you joined at practice, cheering him on from the stands at games.

While you had been focused on making it through school, John's interests were elsewhere. Football was all he thought of, a ball by his feet 24/7. He joined his boyhood club, Barnsley, and worked his way up until he signed for them in 2011. You still remember his debut, the sense of pride and joy you felt was incomparable to anything else in your life.

After a year of playing for the first team at Barnsley, he was off to Everton. John moved, of course, making it easier for him to be with the team. He still returned home but you saw less and less of each other.

By the time he was 22, he was signed to Manchester City and that was the end of the two of you, or rather whatever was left of your friendship.

Granted you were very proud of him and all he achieved, but it still hurt you to lose your best friend. It wasn't 22 year old y/n that was losing her best friend but 9 year old y/n who used to sit in the stands and watch him practice for hours on end.

There wasn't much you saw of John after that. Maybe a hello in passing if you saw him when he returned home to see his family but it became less and less frequent, until all you had left was seeing his face on tv.

8 years, that's how long it's been since you've seen John. Time flies when you've both moved on with your lives.

You find yourself in Manchester, rainy and grey as always but a familiar feeling of coldness reminds you of home.

The jewellers assured you that your ring would be ready in a week and you'd be back then to pick it up. Half past 3 and you've got time until you need to head to the station to get your train home so what better way to spend the time then to shop?

You find your way through the busy streets and into the shops, picking out a few odds and ends for the house, shopping basket on your arm as you make your way through the store.

A text had your focus, trying to keep in your corner as you walked and texted at the same time. You hadn't even noticed as you were walking straight into someone until you hit them. It felt as if you walked into a brick wall, the person was solid to say the least.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you say to the person, bending down to pick up your phone before they turn to see who's walked into them.

"Watch where you're going- y/n?" The voice sounds familiar, you think to yourself. How did they know your name?

You look up as you stand up, it takes you only a second to realize who's in front of you. "Johnny," you smiled, the nickname rolling off your tongue as it did many years ago.

"How are you?" The man asks, pulling you into a hug. You felt yourself relax, the feeling of his arms around you reminded you of home in the best way possible.

You take a step back, "I'm good, how are you?"

"Can't complain," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling under the horrendous fluorescent lights. "What brings you all the way to Manchester?"

"You say that as if Manchester is in a whole other part of the planet," you laughed. "But I came to the jewellers to get my ring fixed and I had some time before my train so I decided to do some shopping."

John nods, glancing at his watch. "It's half 5 now, most of the trains are gone by now, no?"

Your eyes widened a bit, "you're joking." Checking your own phone to see he was in fact right, it was half 5 and the last train to Barnsley just left. "Oh shit."

"How are you gonna get home then?" He asks and you shrug. "I'll probably take an Uber."

"No," he shakes his head. "I can't let you do that. I'll take you home."

It's your turn to shake your head. "Well I can't let you do that."

"Why not?" His brows furrowed, making you smile. "You've probably got things to do, big footballer like yourself." You joked.

John rolled his eyes playfully. "Shut up. It's fine. I'll take you home, I can't let you take an Uber, you're too pretty. What if the Uber driver decides to kidnap you? I won't forgive myself, you know."

You can't help but laugh, obnoxiously loud as well. Your hand covers your mouth, giggling behind it as you often did as a child. The action brings back fond memories for John. He smiles at you, his heart warm and fuzzy in his chest.

"What if you tried to kidnap me? I haven't seen you in years, I don't know what you do in your spare time now."

He chuckles, crossing over his heart with his finger. "I promise I'm not a kidnapper, you can call my mum and confirm."

"Fine," you tell him. "You're certain I'm not putting you out by accepting?"

"100 percent," he takes your basket from you, putting it into his shopping cart, pushing it down the aisle as you follow him. "I didn't even ask, where do you live?"

"Barnsley."

John stops and turns around to look at you. "Seriously? You never moved?"

"I mean I don't live in my parents' house anymore but yes, seriously." You laughed, nudging his jaw back around so he can watch where he's going.

The two of you cash out, John insists on paying for your stuff even though you tell him it's fine. He says okay but then removes the little separator between your stuff and his, putting it together without you noticing. You roll your eyes at his childishness, thanking him regardless. Ever the gentleman, leading you back to the car and carrying the bags before opening the door for you.

Certainly his car is worth more than your house but you got in, sitting quietly as he drove towards Barnsley.

The music plays in the background as he drives. "How come you never moved? From Barnsley?"

"It's home," you tell him, "plus not all of us become big footballers that can afford mega mansions."

John laughs, glancing over at you to see the smile on your face. "Speaking of footballers, I saw your last game. You were good."

"Just good?" he teased and you nod. "Mhm hm. You know me, I've always been more of a Liverpool girl."

"Ew," he makes a face, you can't help but laugh; something you did often in his presence. The short time you two had been back together made you feel like a child again.

Sometimes you still couldn't wrap your head around it. John, your John, the little blond boy from across the street was a professional footballer, and a damn good one at that. Playing for a treble winning team and for England, John was living his childhood dream and you couldn't be more proud of your best friend.

If you could even call him that anymore.

It was a short drive once he got off the exit, you directed him to your place. You lived 10 minutes away from your parents, you two used to walk these streets as kids, it was home after all.

John pulled into the driveway, his car looking out of place compared to the neighbourhood but he got out, taking your bags out of the trunk for you.

There's a man coming out of the house, putting his coat on and fishing his car keys out of his pocket as you get out of John's car. "Thank you for preventing my maybe kidnapping," you tell John, taking the bags from him.

He glances at the man and then back to you. "Yeah," he smiles, "anytime." He reaches for his phone, handing it to you. "Give me your number, so we can stay in touch."

You put your number in, telling him to text you so you could save his number. "Don't be a stranger," you say as he pulls you into a hug. "Even footballers have friends."

John laughs, a big smile on his face. "I know, I promise to text."

"Thank you again, for everything."

"Anything for an old friend."

You smile, "bye Johnny."

"Bye y/n."

John gets back into his car, watching as you walk up the driveway to the man who was by the front door. He doesn't pull off, but instead watches the interaction between the two of you. The man on the porch kisses your cheek before walking down to the driveway.

It takes John a moment to connect the dots; the ring at the jewellers, the house that looked like it was a happy home, the man on the porch, the kiss on the cheek.

You were married.

John's heart feels like it's been broken again, in a whirlwind of emotions; disbelief, regret, and a sense of longing. The realization stings of missed opportunities and unspoken words. Every laugh shared, every whisper, every stolen glance filled with love, every memory cherished now carried a bittersweet feeling.

The knowledge that he never confessed his love. It was unknown to you but John had always thought of you as his.

You were his y/n, his best friend, his girl.

No matter how much he tried to move on, despite the two of you never being more than friends, there was no woman compared to you. That's a horrible way to live, he can hear Kyle's words in his head, his teammate telling him he's got to get on with his life.

But how could he move on knowing you were still out there? All but a phone call away and yet he never reached out. He moved on with his life, achieving all he hoped, all but one thing.

He moved on and so did you. No one's to blame but himself.

--

Kyle finds his teammate picking at his lunch, pushing the pieces of chicken around his plate with the fork. "Didn't your mum teach you it's rude to play with your food?" He says, glancing at the younger player.

John rolls his eyes in response. "Oh, we're moody today." Kyle takes a sip of his juice. "What's going on?"

"I saw y/n last week." John mumbles, staring at his half eaten lunch.

Kyle nearly spits out his juice and hits John in the face. "Y/n? As in.. your y/n?"

"Bumped into her at the store and took her home."

"What's the issue, mate? You took her home and what? The sex was that bad? I guess years of pining will do that to a guy."

"Shut up," John groans at his friend's crudeness. "We didn't have sex, you jackass. She's married."

"Oh," Kyle makes a face, and it's as if John can see the gears turning in his friend's head. He knows whatever is to come out of Kyle's mouth next is going to be ridiculous.

"Well, do you want me to beat up her husband? You can run in and save him, you'll look like the hero and she'll fall in love with you and leave her husband."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," John chuckles, "but no."

Kyle shrugs, taking a piece of chicken off of John's plate and eats it. "I offered a solution and you don't want it. You can't beat yourself up over her being married. You snooze, you lose, Johnny boy."

"Have I ever told you how unhelpful you are?"

"All the time," Kyle smiles. John's phone buzzes on the table, the man glances over to see who it is. "Who is it? Is it her?" Kyle asks, sticking his head over to see who texted John.

He pushes Kyle's head away and reads the message.

To John: Hi Johnny, you're invited to dinner on Sunday.

To John: Well I'm inviting you now. Sunday at mine at 6pm, or anytime after that? Does that work for you?

"Say yes," Kyle tells him before he can even think what to reply. John shakes his head, "I don't want to have dinner with her and her husband."

"What if I beat him-" "Shut up, that's not an option."

Kyle rolls his eyes, taking the phone from John and replying before he could stop him.

From John: Hi y/n, thank you for the invite, 6 works great for me. Can I bring anything?

"What did you do?" John tries to get his phone back from Kyle but he runs over to the other table where Jack and Erling were sitting.

To John: Just your pretty face ;)

"Why would you do that, you idiot?" John smacks Kyle's arm, taking his phone back. "This is going to be the most awkward dinner of my life."

Jack turns to see John and Kyle fighting. "What's going on?"

"Johnny boy's got dinner with a married woman." Kyle says, telling everyone John's business. Erling makes a face. "A married woman? Is that like.. a kink for you?"

"No!" John groans, putting his phone into his pocket. "She's a friend that happens to be married. It's not what Kyle made it seem like." He glares at his friend, Kyle shrugs.

Jack asks the important question. "What are you going to wear? Do you want to borrow one of my Gucci shirts?"

"I'd rather not look ugly," John says, making Jack roll his eyes. "Opposed to.. you looking like yourself? So just double ugly?"

He huffs, "I'll wear something I have. It's only dinner."

"If you say so," Jack makes a face, clearly disapproving of John's fashion choices.

John grumbles as he walks off, "I hate all of you."

--

The days pass and John finds himself at your front door, heart beating out of his chest with nerves. He didn't want to have dinner with you and your husband. He wanted to turn back, to get into his car and leave.

He can't.

John's done scarier things, he's played matches that sent him into a spiral and yet, he's alive and well. One evening won't kill him.

It'll be in and out; dinner, small talk and then he'll leave with the excuse of an early training session.

He knocks, his palms sweaty. They take turns holding the bottle of wine as he wipes his palms on his jeans. The door opens, you're standing there with your hair over your shoulders and a big smile on your face.

"You made it," you stepped aside, "come in."

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he says as he walks in, noticing your bare feet he takes his shoes off. "I had a match and then we had the debrief and then I went home to shower, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic."

"Don't even worry about it," you tell him, shutting the door. John passes the bottle of wine over to you, "for you."

"I told you, you didn't need to fuss and bring anything." You accept the bottle with a smile regardless.

"It's no trouble, plus it's rude to show up empty handed." He says, watching as you walk to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home," you called out to him and John took that as his sign to poke around a bit.

He sticks his head into the living room, no sign of the husband. It's warm, homely. A couch against the back wall, tv by the window, fireplace along another wall. You've got photo frames hanging, some as decorations, some with actual photos.

There are three photos hung on the wall in the hallway, he stops to admire them. The middle frame had a little boy holding a baby wrapped up in a lavender blanket and the other two were what seemed to be school photos. The boy on the left and the girl on the right.

You peek out of the kitchen to see John looking at the photos. "Cute kids," he says. "Yours?"

Shrugging, you walk over to him. "Bought the house and they were on the wall, it seemed wrong to take them down."

"Oh," he makes a face, unsure what to say and you laugh, resting your hand on his bicep. "I'm kidding, they're mine. This is Sebastian," you point to your son and then your daughter. "This is Sophia."

"They're cute, they look like you."

"Genes are strong, Stonesy. Just like yours." You say, making him laugh. He nods as he knows what you meant. He and his sister were the same person, different genders.

"How old are they?" John asks while he follows you into the kitchen.

"Seb is 7 and Soph is 4."

"It's quiet, you'd think it'd be loud with little ones. Are they not home?"

"No," you handed him a glass of wine. "They're at their dad's for the weekend."

"Oh," John says, taking a sip of his wine. "You're not married?"

You make a face, one of disgust rather as you turned to your friend. "God no, ew. Why would you think that?"

John laughs at your face. "I just thought.. you said you had to get your ring fixed so I assumed your wedding ring."

"It's my blue one, the one you gave me for my birthday before you left for Everton." You tell him, checking on the roast in the oven.

John thinks back, he did gift you a ring for your 18th birthday, it was a few months before he signed for Everton. He thought it'd be a nice thing to give you, 18 was a big birthday plus he was officially making big boy money, not as much as he made now, but more than enough that he could afford to buy his best friend a nice gift for her birthday.

"I can't believe you still have that."

"Well I thought about pawning it off but the guy said he'd only give two pounds, so I figured I'd keep it. Sentimental value or something like that." You joked, John rolled his eyes at your words playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Is there anything I can help with? I feel bad sitting around."

"Take the roast out of the oven? The pan is unnecessarily heavy." You set the plates on the table and John looks at you while walking to the oven. "You made a roast?"

"Well it's Sunday, isn't it?"

John nods, "it is. I haven't had a proper one in years, like actually sitting at the table and eating it. It's always left overs from mum because I had other stuff to do."

"It's so depressing," you chuckled. "Wait, I didn't even ask, can you eat this? Aren't you on some super footballer diet or something?"

"It's fine," he tells you, carrying the pan to the table. "One night won't kill me."

Dinner was quiet, the two of you chatted and caught up on as much as you can about the last 8 years. You talked about family, yours and his, he told you stories of his teammates and shared little memories he cherished from your childhood, you told him about your kids and how they drive you mad everyday.

It was nice, it was the grown up version of eating Chinese take out at 3am in the kitchen as teens.

You find yourself on the couch, each of you with a glass of wine and the almost empty bottle on the coffee table.

"I wonder, since you thought I was married, are you hiding a relationship?" You asked, finishing off your glass before setting it on the table. "Am I going to see myself in a headline somewhere? John Stones spotted cheating on wife with mystery woman." You both laughed at the made up headline.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm single, no need to worry." He mirrored your action and set the empty glass on the table before leaning back into the couch. "But if I can ask, what happened between you and your.. husband? Were you married ?"

"I was," you nodded. "We thought we could make it work but between work and the kids, we have no time for each other and we were miserable, even when we were together. It wasn't good for us nor was it good for the kids. So instead of the kids having one unhappy home, we decided to call it quits and let them have two happy homes."

"That's very mature of you both."

"I'd like to think so." You smiled. "What about you? How come you're single? You're young and handsome and talented."

"You think I'm handsome?" He raised an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, laughing as you smack his arm lightly. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Well, I never moved on.. from someone in the past."

"Oh.. someone broke your heart?" You shifted to face him fully. "Tell me everything."

John smiles, some things never change. "Sorta, I mean, not really. It was a long time ago and when I left home, I left her behind and I regret that. I shouldn't have left like that, we should have figured something out. I should have reached out but I didn't. I think I wasn't sure how to, so I never did.''

You nod, thinking. You understood what he meant but you were trying to figure out who he was talking about so you started naming off the girls he used to see while he was living in Barnsley and Liverpool.

"It's none of them," he says, smiling at your effort.

"So who is it?" You asked, brows furrowed. "I know all your exes."

John smiles at you, the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at you was a dead give away, and it hits you like a freight train. "It's.. me?" You look at him, your cheeks bright red when he nods.

It reminds him of when you two were younger, the two of you giggling until you're out of breath and red in the face.

"So pretty," he whispers, going to pinch your cheek. "Shut up," you mumble, swatting his hand away. John smiles, hand cupping your cheek.

A hand wraps around his wrist, the two of you looking at each other. In that moment, years of unspoken words hung in the air. Without a single word said, they both knew what the other was feeling - a feeling that had been buried deep within you both for so long.

With a soft smile, John leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a kiss, pulling you into him. As they sat on the couch, still intertwined, John and y/n felt a sense of peace wash over them.

It was as if the weight of years of unspoken emotions had finally been lifted off their shoulders.

John's forehead pressed to yours, "do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?"

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?" You giggled, kissing him once more.

--

tags: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @ironmaiden1313 @muglermami

reply/send an ask to be added to my football taglist!

[babyleostuff]

heyyy hope ur doing ok !! I’d really love to hear ur thoughts on how the svt members would teach u to drive (or the ones that can drive anyways!) lots of love xoxo

oh my god, this was SO much fun to write (and now i can't think about anything else but them driving)

seventeen teaching you how to drive | ot13

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

𓆩♡𓆪 kind of like driving with your dad (or your dad trying to explain you maths) - at some point you end up crying. He wants to teach you, he really does, but in the end he gets too impatient, so he just yells and takes the steering wheel from you. 

YOON JEONGHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 has a kind of “meh” attitude. He teaches you as best as he can, but whatever happens later, happens. Not his issue anymore. But he really tries his best, it’s not like he wants you or anyone else to get hurt. 

 HONG JOSHUA 

𓆩♡𓆪 very patient and gentle, but maybe too gentle. He doesn’t have the heart to scold you, so even if you speed past a “stop” sign and doesn’t stop, he doesn’t say anything. And every time you ask if you did good, he says yes (and cries a little bit inside). 

WEN JUNHUI 

𓆩♡𓆪 he tries his best, but teaching someone how to drive is very hard. You’d probably not even make it out of the parking lot, but you’d be a pro at parking the car. Would scream if you got too close to another car. 

KWON SOONYOUNG 

𓆩♡𓆪 a big no no to this guy. I adore him with my entire heart, but there is no way I would trust him to teach anyone how to drive. He doesn’t care about the speed limits, so there would be a 90% chance you’d get a speeding ticket on your first drive. Also, he’d tell you to turn left at the “no left turn” sign. The music would be blasting and he wouldn’t give a single fuck about anything. 

JEON WONWOO

𓆩♡𓆪 a very patient teacher, would recommend 10/10. Explains everything like a pro (is he an idol or a F1 driver). He would be kind of strict though, but just because he wants to properly teach you how to drive and not harm yourself and others in the process. 

LEE JIHOON

𓆩♡𓆪 sorry bae, not this time <3

XU MINGHAO 

𓆩♡𓆪 takes the job very seriously. Explains everything from the basics about the car itself, but for some reason forgets to teach you the signs. So anytime you ask about a sign, he panics and tells you to just drive faster. As long as you don’t crash into anyone, it’s all good. 

KIM MINGYU  

𓆩♡𓆪 alongside Wonwoo, the best teacher you could have ever asked for. We know that he taught Chan how to drive, so he would have no problem teaching you how to drive as well. I don’t think I can say anything more about him, except for that I wish he was my driving instructor (mine was more like Seungcheol, it was not live, laugh, love). 

LEE SEOKMIN 

𓆩♡𓆪 for some reason he makes you drive very slowly, so you’re more rolling down the street than driving. A kid literally passed you on their scooter. Also, he’d focus too much on the nice view and forget that you technically can’t drive (you almost hit an old lady on the zebra crossing).

BOO SEUNGKWAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 oh no. no. just no. It’s not that he is a bad teacher, he is just too scared. He doesn’t trust himself enough. He’d be clutching the grab handle above the door and his eyes would be closed at all times. He’d just tell you to drive forward and that would be it. 

CHWE VERNON

𓆩♡𓆪 chaotic, but very chill at the same time. He’d mostly be like: you do you boo. You’d have a lot of fun, that’s for sure. If you ever passed the speed limit, he’d be like “yo bro, that’s crazy”.  

LEE CHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 another great teacher. Might be a bit scared, because he isn’t that experienced himself, but he does his best. His driving lessons would be very safe and he’d make sure that you felt safe and confident behind the wheel.

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers With An ADHD S/O✦

This could also be taken as slashers with a s/o that has unmedicated ADHD, it's essentially just them responding to your info dumping or random-ass questions. This is definitely not me just wanting to project random facts onto people-

✧GN!Reader, mention of skinwalkers(in case you're worried bout the energy that might bring), brief mention of cannibalism✧ ✧Bo; He/Him, Vincent; He/They, Lester; He/Him, Thomas; He/Him, Bubba; He/She/They, Stu; He/Him, Billy Lo; He/Him, Brahms; He/Him✧

❀Bo Sinclair❀

He's gonna act so sick of it but he often gets wrapped up in what you're doing. I've always been on the fence if he's neurotypical, or if he has unmedicated ADHD.

If you ask a random ass question that he can't immediately answer, he'll try to brush you off, but then he'll get too curious. Leading to hours of you two coming up with theories or researching some obscure topic. Sometimes it leads to debates that might get heated, but they never turn into actual fights.

Although sometimes he's too tired to deal with your random shit. Like, if you two are in bed, and you roll over with a super obscure topic? He'll give you some tired grunts as responses, but eventually, he'll cover your mouth and tuck you under his chin. "Doll, I'ma need you to shut ya mouth." He loves you but he needs his beauty sleep.

You were washing dishes as Bo sat in the living room, sipping a beer and losing his focus on a TV show. Things were quiet and peaceful. He'd been a bit on edge today, but that was chalked up to his lingering headache. Aside from that? Nothing was wrong, and it allowed everyone in Ambrose to relax...assuming they weren't encased in wax. But your brain was not relaxed. Not with the question that had been bouncing around all day. Finally, it was too much to bare on your own, so after drying your hands you poked your head around the door frame to the kitchen. Staring at Bo on the couch. He sensed it, setting his beer on his knee as he looked over, expecting your words.

"Bo, how come you never see an ad for microwaves?"

His brow furrowed before his eyes rolled. "Really? Darlin' what kind of stupid ass question is th-..." He trailed off as he properly processed the question. You blinked, staring, waiting as you watched it settle over him. The same confusion. He shook his head. "Prolly 'cause everyone knows ya need one." He said, trying to brush it off, but that answer was not satisfying. "But then why are there ads for other appliances? Or toilet paper? Everyone knows you need that stuff." You replied. Bo bit his lower lip as he looked up, thinking again. "...well shit, I don't fuckin' know." He admitted. You jumped in the air and made dramatic hand motions. "SEE?! Right?! It's been bothering me all day!!" You exclaimed. Bo rubbed his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer, or perhaps bring forth the memory of a microwave commercial.

You hopped over the back of the couch and settled next to him. "Bo, it's been eating away at me. I can't come up with anything." You whispered. "I can't either...shit! Why is that a thing?!" Bo demanded, you laughed and put your face in your hands. "Nah nah, we're gonna think of something. This shit's gonna eat at me." He said, setting his beer on the coffee table. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping without an answer.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Vincent can't really respond to your random questions or factoids, his vocal cords are damaged and he only speaks when necessary. However, he'll listen! Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, they'll be too focused to hear what you're saying, but they'll pause and sign for you to repeat your last sentence. He wants to indulge you.

You'll remind him of Lester when they were all younger. For this reason, they won't get annoyed. They're a seasoned veteran of the random ramblings of an individual with ADHD. That, and it makes him feel at peace hearing you in the background of whatever he's doing. Reminds him of a more peaceful time.

Vincent's an insomniac. He can stay awake to hear your latest info dump, but, if he's exhausted enough? He's gonna pass out. It doesn't matter how loud you're ranting either. He finds your voice soothing and it's hard to stay awake when they're so tired, and you feel so safe. But don't worry, if you want, they'll ask you to start talking about the topic again in the morning. After their coffee, of course.

There was a quiet scraping sound mingling with the bubbling of wax in a large vat in the basement. Vincent's hands worked diligently as he formed the shape of a man's arm, carefully sculpting the subtle curve of a bicep. They were in their zone, completely focused. Taking even, deep breaths as they went to grab a more precise tool.

"VINCENT!"

And the silence was shattered, making the man fumble with the tool, doing a short juggling act until he caught it. He looked over at you bouncing into his workspace, grinning. "Oh! Sorry, did I mess you up?" You asked as you noticed he was working. Vincent let out a sigh and shook their head, allowing you to relax, energy coming back full force. He set his tool down and signed to you. "What's wrong?" He asked, making you shake your head. "Oh nothing, but I just learned something super cool!" You walked closer and pulled up a chair, setting yourself on top of it.

"Do you anything about Egyptian mythology?" You asked with an excited grin. Vincent paused and tapped his fingers a few times on his leg before shaking his head. "Great! Okay, so there's this god, Anubis, also called Anpu or Inpu. He's a deity relating to death and the passing of the people of Egypt. He's got a jackal head most of the time, which is basically a canine. One of the things he's known for is this ceremony where he weighs a heart against a feather to see if it's pure, and if the heart is heavier than the feather, it's impure. So! He'll feed it to this other deity named Ammit. Which would basically mean your soul can't move on to the underworld." You paused to take a deep breath. Vincent had settled in his own seat at this point, listening intently. He'd never been much for mythology aside from his Greek phase in high school. But you were so passionate and admittedly? The factoids were interesting.

They'd gladly listen for hours on end, it made you so happy, how could he not indulge?

❀Lester Sinclair❀

This man is the king of random factoids, are you kidding me? Do you think he wouldn't be as passionate about your random topics? Fool that you are! He has just as many! It's definitely a bonding thing for the two of you.

The things he brings up most are bug & plant related, but he loves learning from you. He's got several learning disabilities so learning from a book is a bit difficult. This is partially why he loves learning from you. Be careful to have your facts straight though.

You could wake him up at two am and get him enraptured in a conversation with ease. He won't be mad, just a bit groggy at first. He utterly adores the fact you're so willing to share the things you're passionate about, no matter how random they are. And Lester is elated that you return the favor.

Wood shavings fell to the ground as Lester whistled a tune, carving a new knife handle out of some old cherry oak he'd found. He'd hoped to give this one to Bo, in order to replace the switchblade the man had that was starting to give up on him. It was peaceful on his cabin porch. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, trees only swaying in a slight breeze. He stopped his whistling tune when he heard the screen door creak open and saw you walk out. He smiled as you sat beside him. "Afternoon' sugar." He greeted.

"Lester, I need you to confirm something for me." You said with an intense look. The man rose an eyebrow and looked you over. "Alright...what is it?" He asked. He watched you inhale deeply and finally open your mouth with the question. "Is it true that there are creatures in the ocean that look like tiny bunnies but they're slugs?" Lester blinked before he laughed a bit, a grin stretching across his face. "Yeah, there are! They're called sea bunnies! They're real small critters, buncha slugs in the ocean look real cool. There's one that looks like 's made of leaves too. It eats like a plant too! That photosin-photo, whatever's called." He mumbled. You gasped loudly.

"There are sea slugs that can photosynthesize?! Oh my god!" You cheered. Lester snickered and nodded vigorously. "Baby, I thought they were fake! They're so small and cute, I just wanna squish'em." You explained, making a little squishing motion with your hand. Lester hummed in agreement. "There's this other one. Looks like a dragon, but ya can't pick'em up 'cause they're real poisonous." He said, feeling his heart swell as you let out a sad whine. "All the cool things are poisonous." You complained. You looked back at him with adoration and a smile made from sunshine. "Can you tell me more about random animal stuff?" Lester couldn't have been happier to hear you ask. "Well, don't mind if I do." He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling joy rush through his brain as he started his factoid rant.

❀Thomas Hewitt❀

Alright, he's neurodivergent, but he's never been the type to info dump or even deeply explore his interests. Mostly because he's never had the time or ability. However, seeing how deep you get into your stuff will probably inspire him to indulge himself more.

He doesn't know what a hyperfixation is but he'll relate if you tell him about it. Thomas' tend to be things like sewing and, fittingly enough, mechanics of things like chainsaws. He used to be into old cars when he was younger but Luda Mae would often tell him not to poke around, for fear he'd get hurt by something.

Thomas finds your ease around him cathartic. Sometimes, when you're rambling, he won't be fully listening. Not because he doesn't care but because he's too focused on the fact you're with him. Even when he's at his most exhausted, he'll always find time and energy to watch you be passionate. To share those things with him? It feels unreal sometimes.

Thomas huffed as he tossed a small bale of hale towards a pile in the back of the dilapidated barn. Sweat rolled down his skin, which he wiped with the fabric of his shirt. He tilted his neck and only slightly winced when it cracked loudly. "Tommy!" And there it went again, feeling his heart melt and his stress fade away. Usually when his name was called it meant someone needed something, that he was about to be insulted, that he was doing something wrong. But not with you. No, you always said his name in the sweetest tone. He turned to face you, watching you run up to the barn with a smile. You remembered to step over the board at the entrance since it had unhidden nails.

"Tommy! Okay, baby, I know you're working but can I tell you about something really cool?" He exhaled and his gaze softened. With a deep grunt and a nod, he moved a hay bale off to the side and motioned to it. You cooed and walked up, sitting down on the bale with a grin. "You're a sweetheart." You praised, making him blush. "Okay, so, you know how Native Americans have super rich history? And like, they even have things akin to cryptids and they have their own folklore?" Thomas nodded as he went back to work, showing he was still listening.

"Alright, well, don't take my word for everything here because I may be wrong on some of it. But! There are these things called skinwalkers, in English anyway. They're a thing most notably spoken about from Indigenous tribes around the southwest, like here and Oklahoma and stuff. Typically they're described as shapeshifting beings with deformed, almost, humanoid bodies. The origins kind of vary based on where you get it from, but some traditions say that they used to be powerful medicine men who succumbed to evil. Some other origins think that they're people who committed a deep sin." Your hands moved with your words and you occasionally paused as to not stutter over the words. Though it was a taboo topic to speak about and not something Thomas would've ever sought out, he listened. Pausing his work to stare at you lovingly as you rambled about a creature that was probably pretty nightmare-inducing. He couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. Only succumb to the adoration in his chest.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Bubba's neurodivergent as well, they have their hyperfixations, but sadly can't share them much. One, because her family often expressed annoyance so she's no longer willing to show them. Two, she can't really talk. He's only able to babble things that sometimes sound kind of like words.

But oh, oh he ADORES when you share your interests or ask him weird questions. It brings him so much joy. And they feel so seen when you acknowledge they want to share something with you as well. You become Bubba's hyperfixation safe space and he returns the effort tenfold. (Her fixations are jewelry & fashion magazines)

She'll never not listen to you. Of course, if he's working, he'll need to be focused on that. But you're more than welcome to sit nearby and keep talking. They take note of everything you say, and if it's something he can find and give to you? They'll search for something you'll like so hard every chance they get.

Bubba patted his hands on his lap as you sewed a hole in his apron. Though Bubba knew how to sew, and enjoyed it, sometimes their big hands made it difficult. That and their random muscle spasms. But, you were always willing to help, something that made his love for you triple almost every day. You smiled as she leaned in to watch you work more closely. "You know, Bubs. Maybe I should make you a dress. I have a few designs I think you'd look great in." You said. Bubba's brown eyes widened and she squealed, watching you finish the stitch, placing the needle down. As soon as he was sure you wouldn't get pricked, he squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh.

You set his apron in his lap and stood up, grabbing a busted-up sketchbook that they'd grabbed off a meal once. You sat back beside her and flipped open to a page. Bubba flapped her hands excitedly as she caught sight of a chubby figure in the concept of a flowy dress. "See, I tried to consider what would be best with your work. I figured sleeves would get in the way so I kept them either short or just as straps, adjustable of course." You explained as you pointed to the sketches. "I mostly took inspiration from those magazines you have. Most of those dresses have shirt tops and blouson cuts, but I couldn't help myself by when I imagined you in a sundress." Your smile grew wider as Bubba wiggled in place, letting out happy squeals and excited squeaks.

You began to ramble about different waist cuts and fabric patterns, colors that you felt would compliment Bubba's skin tone. Eventually ending up in his lap as he squeezed you, rocking back and forth. Feeling adored and cared for. No one else had ever put in this effort to indulge her and she felt ready to cry from joy. You hummed and turned a page. "You know, I think a babydoll cut nightgown would also be real cute on you.~" You purred, going to slowly turn the page again. Bubba caught sight of a slightly revealing babydoll cut "nightgown", with detailed lace, clearly meant to be a bit see-through. They squeaked and covered their face. You laughed fondly and reached to place kisses on the backs of their knuckles.

❀Stu Macher❀

Again, you think this dude doesn't have ADHD? There ain't no way in hell. This man is a poster child for unmedicated ADHD if I've ever seen one. His hyperfixations being horror movies and true crime, clearly. He loves to have someone to rant about these things with, but a lot of people aren't down with it. Imagine his joy when he found out you were. And even more so when you do the same back.

He's a bit hard to get into things that don't already interest him. But, he does his best to listen anyway, since you do that with him. However, if you have a similar interest to him? Stu is all over that shit. He finds you so sexy when you rant about the cinematography of your favorite movie or the psyche of a fictional killer.

If you know you have ADHD and tell him, you might actually be able to convince him to get tested. It won't change anything, but Stu being on meds would probably help him out in school...or it would just help him be more down to earth. That's wishful thinking though.

"Babe! Baby, babe babe babebabebabe!" Your voice cut over the movie Stu was watching, making him pause it. The image of Jason standing in a doorway to a cabin fizzled and glitched on the old TV. He laughed when you dove over the back of the couch, setting down the snacks and drinks you brought, quickly turning to face him. "I have theories and I need to spill them before I forget about them." You said. Stu grabbed a soda and cracked it open. "Well spill then baby! I'm all ears!" He grinned, taking a large gulp of Dr.Pepper. You got yourself comfortable and cleared your throat, starting off with a deep breath. "It's about the Ghostface killings recently." Now that caught his attention. "Yeah? What'cha got, babe?" Twisted excitement formed in his chest as he awaited your words.

"I don't think there's one killer, I think there's two." His brain sparked up and his heartbeat arose, leaning his arm on the back of the couch as he listened. "See cause, when Casey was in her house, she was called on the phone and the killer talked to her right? They probably were giving her things to make her think she could survive, if it were me I'd choose...like, a trivia thing. Get the answers right, ya live. But of course she didn't They killed her boyfriend on the porch while she was still on the phone, but then evidence showed someone was in the house to hunt her down. That doesn't make sense! There would be no feasible way only one person could utterly tear Steve's organs out and then get into the house without her noticing. She probably had both doors locked anyway! But, if someone else was already inside while a second killer Jack-The-Ripper-style killed Steve, it would make so much more sense!"

Stu ran his tongue along his lower lip, watching you get more animated and invested into your theory. Despite talking about a recent murder of peers, the terrifying concept that there were two people out there ready to commit horrific acts, you were smiling. Buzzing off excitement while talking about a murder. "And! The amount of strength and time it would've taken to tie her and pull her over a tree branch, not being seen? One person doing that is hard to believe, but two people? That's a piece of cake!" You declared, only to be cut off by a passionate kiss to the mouth. It silenced you for a moment, but it didn't do anything to your stuttering heartbeat. Stu pulled back with a smug grin. "You're so sexy when you dissect murder plans." He said. You snorted and let out a loud laugh. "I'm a fuckin' freak, huh?" Stu laughed. "And I love it, baby!"

❀Billy Loomis❀

He deals with Stu every day, he's used to it. Billy's not one who infodumps or hyperfixates, but he's not incredibly annoyed by it. Most of the time anyway.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he might ask you to be quiet, but it's not personal. It's not that he doesn't care or anything, he's just not in the mood for a lot of information being said to him at a fast rate. Most of the time though, he'll be perfectly fine with it.

He won't really get into it with you, but he'll support your interests and occasionally entertain your weird questions. Billy's particularly happy if your hyperfixation benefits him, however. Like with Stu, true crime & horror movies are things he's always willing to hear about.

Billy paused the movie and looked over. "You've been chewing on your lip this entire time, just spit it out." He said bluntly, though he had a calm smile on his face. Both of you were sat in your bedroom on your bed, watching a copy of Halloween H20 that you'd rented. Billy didn't really like movie talkers so you'd tried your best to hold it all in until the end, even if you had a million things to say. But he knew better and he was in a good mood. As long as you weren't talking over the movie, he wouldn't have a problem. He bit back an amused snicker as you let out a relieved breath and got ready to rant.

"I was just thinking if there was maybe a reason Michael can survive so much. Cause like, he is human. He needs to eat, we hear him breathe, even if he doesn't die he does get wounded by people attacking him. So it's not that he's a demon, even if Loomis calls him pure evil, so maybe there's a medical reason he can withstand all that!" You began. Billy set the remote down and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, crossing his arms and nodding, urging you to continue. "Okay, so, hear me out. What if he just has a surplus of stem cells? Like, they're out of control." You said, starting to talk with your hands. "Stem cells? Remind me what those are again."

You huffed and muttered something fondly about how he failed biology. He snorted at the comment. "Stem cells come from your bone marrow and they're what helps you heal from stuff. Like, if a section of your liver is removed? Stem cells will make the organ grow back to the perfect size for your body. When we get older, they tend to slow down, which is why it takes longer to heal from stuff. But theoretically, if Michael just has a fuck ton, he could come back from almost anything. As long as he has bone marrow, he'd keep producing stem cells, and he'd keep healing. At that rate, even old age couldn't kill him. Old age doesn't kill you, it's just your body's functions shutting down because of old dying cells." Billy hummed and rose his eyebrows, considering your theory for a moment. He then nodded with a smile. "That would actually make a lot of sense. A lot better than the cult idea." You beamed. "Thank you! Also yeah, that movie was fuckin' awful." He laughed and opened his arm, allowing you to lay against him. "You gonna let it play now?" He asked, to which you nodded. He patted your arm and grabbed the remote, allowing the movie to play again.

❀Brahms Heelshire❀

Aight, he's autistic, he doesn't have ADHD. He needs strict structure, he has no idea how you just wing everything. You're all over the place! It's frustrating! ...sometimes, other times it's fun to watch and listen to you. Brahms hasn't ever really had friends, not ones that seem so excited to talk to him anyway. It's a nice change, actually.

He'll start to be more comfortable with sharing his own thoughts on things he's really into. Brahms has never been able to speak for an hour on a chapter in a book before, and he feels really at ease when you listen to him. He's a bit hypocritical and occasionally tunes you out when you're ranting, but he'll usually try to listen.

Brahms is amazed at how many topics you can seemingly flow into, even when starting on something completely unrelated. He's endlessly entertained by you, so much so, that it'll occasionally make up for you accidentally letting time get away from you and going off schedule. Occasionally.

Brahms cleaned his brush as you spoke, running it over a napkin to dry it off and ensure it wasn't holding any more of the green paint. You'd been rambling for an hour now, more so to yourself than to him. The noise was a nice change from the deafening silence that he'd been used too in the walls. Brahms lifted his mask slightly to take a bit of the sandwich you'd made him, allowing himself to tune back into your rant. "Actually, some people have said that there's a stage of decomposition where the stench is almost sickeningly sweet. I've never smelt it like that though, the stench of death is pretty recognizable as not sweet." Brahms stopped mid-chew and stared at you. Where in the hell had you gotten this from? He could've sworn you started on food first.

"I wonder if cannibals found that smell appealing, actually. Maybe they considered it the "still safe to eat" time for when a body is already dead. I imagine they'd want it fresh though." You muttered whilst putting away a glass. "Actually! Interesting fact, some cannibals have described human meat as being akin to pork, just with a strong & bitter aftertaste. And the more muscular someone is, the chewier they are. Also I think I read once that tattoo ink has a terrible taste, which would make sense I suppose. In history, human was sometimes described as long pig or hairless goat!" Brahms cleared his throat and snapped you out of your train of thought. You made eye contact with him through his porcelain mask, seeing his look of confusion and slight concern. You chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't know why I know these things, but I promise it's not from personal experience." You reassured.

Brahms sighed and shook his head. You untensed a bit when he let out a little chuckle, one that was deep and genuine, not covered by his "child" voice. "You have got to be the most interesting nanny I've ever had." He said, accent thick as he spoke. Your face heated up and you let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Probably the most out there for sure. I'll take that as a compliment and uh, stop talking about cannibalism now." Brahms nodded and took another bite of his sandwich, pushing the chair out next to him with his leg. You took it with a smile. "How about you talk instead, hm?" You offered. Brahms cleared his throat again and nodded, he had plenty of things to discuss. Perhaps the eras of painting styles would be a good choice.

(bet you thought the cannibalism was gonna be in Thomas or Bubba's huh? YOU THOUGHT WRONG)

[the-writer-arrived]

At Your Service, Master

Synopsis: you stand in front of your lover in a rather... unexpected outfit. how does he react?

Character: diluc ragnvindr.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; not full on smut, but borderlining it LMAO; established relationship (marriage).

A/N: another diluc brainrot provided by a certain friend of mine. i might make another version of this for wriothesley, but idk.

<<This work has adult themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>

You have no idea how long you've been staring at the door of Diluc's office, but it's probably been quite a lot time already.

You're torn between grasping at the earlier boldness that made you wear this skimpy outfit or letting the embarrasment consume you and give up on this whole 'seducing my husband to make him pay attention to me' plan.

Honestly, you've never once imagined yourself wearing something so revealing like this: the top hugs your figure perfectly, but it barely covers your chest with such a low cut; the skirt? The tiniest piece of cloth you've ever seen! In what world would that be considered a 'maid' outfit?!

You try not to think too much about the knowing wink Adelinde sent you when she gave you the package, and then basically banned everyone from being around Master Diluc's office for the rest of the day.

...

'Screw it, I already got this far.'

You knock on the door, gathering as much courage as possible, before you step inside the room.

Inside, you see your beloved husband, who you haven't seen in a good while despite living under the same roof and sharing the same bed. His complexion bears clear signs of fatigue and stress, which you fear he may been neglecting his well-being.

"Leave the documents at the pile over there, Elzer. I shall take a look at them in a minute."

The tiredness is also present in his voice and the way his eyes don't leave the papers before him.

"I didn't come here to deliver documents, though."

If you weren't so nervous, you would have laughed at the myriad of emotions your lover expressed in less than a second. The deep frown faded the moment he recognized your melodic voice, empty gaze lighting up like the stars and the warm smile growing on his lips freeze in place when he finally looks at you.

Knowing how shy the man can be, especially regarding his beatiful wife, you were certain Diluc would be red as a tomato when you show up in front of him, in an outfit far more revealing than anything you've wore before. Much to your surprise, however, he isn't. In fact, he's staring so intensely at you that you begin to second guess if that was a good idea.

Before you could say anything, your husband gets up from his seat, taking slow steps towards your form. His red eyes roam your body from head to toe, taking in every single detail (including the way your breathing seems quicker than normal and that delightful blush on your cheeks).

He stops behind you, his hands itching to touch the most valuable treasure in his life, but not before asking for your permission. He leans close, so very close to your ear that you can't help but shiver at the feeling of his breath and the sound of his voice (which is slightly shaky, as if he's trying desperately to hold himself back from pouncing on his beloved).

"May I touch you, my love?"

You swallow your nervousness, licking your dry lips before you quietly speak the words that you're sure will flip his switch.

"You may do whatever you want with me, Master."

With a curse word under his breath, Diluc's lips latch on your neck, strong arms pulling your body against his.

Did you change your perfume or has it been that long that he doesn't even recall your scent? Regardless of which is the truth, right here, right now, his focus is solely on you, you, you.

Your scent, your warmth, your softness, by the archons, he has missed you so much.

You're glad to be in your husband's hold, otherwise your shaky legs wouldn't be able to keep you upright for long.

His lips leaving hickeys that won't be easily covered, his right hand massaging your breast while his left one travels to between your thighs, a finger rubbing your pussy through your damp panties...

It's too much, far too much. But also not nearly enough.

Diluc groans, hiding his face further into your neck, when he feels your rear rubbing on his clothed erection, which only causes you to moan more.

"...Tell me you're free for the rest of the day."

He holds your chin to make you look at him and his state leaves you even wetter: pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted, hair messed up from your hand playing with it... Fuck, you need this man right now.

"Yes... I'm at your service for the whole day, Master Diluc..."

Your words barely leave your mouth and you're suddenly being carried to the office's couch, your kind master ready to reward his new maid.

(Despite the door not being locked, no one at the Dawn Winery dares to interrupt the very important and much needed private time of their Mr. & Mrs. Ragnvindr...)

(Although some servants create bets if they will soon hear news of their lady having an heir after today).

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red diluc banner (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (2)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (1)

Three months later, London 

London in spring was less exciting than you thought. If you explored most of the well-known tourist attractions, it was a place like all the ones you lived in before.

Well, it was a little more British, and they had better tea. Okay, they had the best tea you ever drank outside of Japan. But you couldn’t feel more than resentment against London.

It wasn’t its fault. If you had come here before Dean broke your heart, you would’ve fallen in love with the non-touristic places you discovered on your walks through town.

Like the sweet little bakery called the Dusty Knuckle. You chuckled at the name and were about to call Dean to tell him about it. He would’ve laughed and you would’ve laughed…together soon enough.

That was until you realized that you forgot about reality and the situation you are in. 

Well, he would laugh getting to know you signed up for one of their bread-making classes to distract yourself from your messed up feelings.

“How do you like your new office?” Arthur brings you out of your thoughts. Over the last months, he became a confidant. He helped you find the perfect home for you and your baby and made sure that you at least forget about your heartbreak for a while.

Having a man not trying to get into your pants around was refreshing. Arthur tried to be a friend, not your boss. “It’s perfect,” you smile up at him before you turn your attention back toward the newest design. “I like the new design of the car.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Arthur chuckles. “Just like I knew you’d be perfect for this position. I wanted someone with the same passion for cars I share.”

You focus on your laptop and try not to cringe. Dean was the one waking the passion for cars deep within you. You still prefer classic cars, but you want to help build cars for the future.

“Thank you, for everything, Arthur,” you drop your eyes to your middle, wincing as you think about Dean again. He doesn’t deserve one single thought, but it isn’t easy to forget about the love of your life.

“I told you before, there is no need to thank me for hiring you,” Arthur pats your shoulder. “We work together like a well-oiled machine. I have to thank you.”

At the same time, Dean’s office, …

“Dean, I don’t get why you won’t try to find Y/N. She just upped and left that night. I heard her crying in your shared room, but she wouldn’t open the door.”

“She just upped and left, that’s right,” Dean snaps at his younger brother. “He rises from his seat to glare at Sam. “She left her ring on the bed! No note, no reason why. This told me everything I needed to know.”

“Just saying, that’s not her. Y/N would never do such a thing,” Sam interjects. “You know her better than me, but Y/N once told me that she hates unfinished business. She would’ve talked things out if you only gave her a chance!”

“Why are you so interested in my love life?” Dean snaps at his brother. “Y/N left and that’s that. Whatever we had is over.”

“Whatever you had?” Sam huffs and shakes his head. “You wanted to marry her, Dean. Dean Winchester wanted to settle down and have a family. If not for your mishap at the party, you’d be happy with her.”

“Mishap?” Dean splutters. “I don’t remember much of that night. I got a little drunk to find the guts to tell Mom and Dad about my engagement. Maybe I talked a little bit too long with Lisa. That’s all!”

“You ignored your fiancé for your ex-girlfriend, Dean,” Sam makes a face. He can’t fathom that his brother believes he wasn’t in the wrong that night. “You could’ve been happy with Y/N if not for your self-manipulative behavior. We both know you did this on purpose to make Y/N leave you.”

“What?” Dean gasps.

“Y/N was the best thing ever happening to you and you got scared again. So, you allowed Lisa Braeden to be all over you. No woman will stay by your side if she feels unwanted.”

“Leave me alone,” Dean grunts. “It’s over for good. I wouldn’t know where to look for her either way.”

“I can call a friend. He’s a private investigator and could easily find Y/N,” Sam tries one last time to make his brother see that he should do anything to get you back. “Dean don’t lose her out of stubbornness. You were in the wrong.”

“She could’ve stayed and talked to me. Just give up,” Dean drops his eyes to the little black box on his desk. “I did when I woke up to an empty bed, her ring in my hand.”

“I hope Mother is happy now,” Sam snaps at his brother. “She always wanted you to settle for Lisa Braeden, the woman breaking your heart.”

“Sammy,” Dean swallows thickly. “She was my fiancé, not yours. Stay out of my business.” He says instead of asking Sam to help him. Dean is too proud to admit that he’s missing you like hell.

If only he knew why you didn’t even leave a note…

Part 3

[brainr0t-landfill]

🌃Mercurial

ghoap x male reader

Chapter Two: Hunger

"...you had these compelling magnetized eyes you must've lost when you got older."

-The Taxpayers, I Love You Like An Alcoholic

(tw: aftermath of violence, poverty, alcohol, implied past addiction)

It started in an alleyway your aching back against the cold bricks, blood from your nose ruined three times over slowly dripping onto your lap, staining threadbare jeans, headlights occasionally blinding your left eye.

You don't look around, you keep your dry, itchy eyes on the filthy floor wondering if they'll finnaly fire you for missing work tomorrow or showing up looking like a battered street cat, you wonder if you'll be able to keep the lights on with whatever measly savings you've got left, you wonder if mom will clear out the basement for you, you wonder if you'll need the E.R if you can even afford that.

The thought of prescription pain meds brings about that familiar spike of excitement, of desperation you thought you had burried a while ago but it's short lived. Your head is fuzzy, almost cloudy with the rush of the recent bar brawl, if you can even call it that when in reality it was little more than you running your mouth in a place you knew not to when in reality it was you getting battered and thrown out of your fifth pub in this town. This is what happens when you stay in one place for too long, you get restless, you get mean. İt's no excuse, it's just how you are.

You hear footsteps approaching and before you can look up a hand is under your scruffy chin lifting your face up.

The first throughout in your head is 'He's beautiful' and he is. Blue eyes and thick baby cow lashes, a well sculpted face, overgrown stubble, thick shoulders and a surprisingly fitting mohawk.

"Ye alive laddie?"

He asks, thick accent and scotch on his breath but all you can focus on us the scar curled like a snake nestled in the scruffy stubble of his chin then you notice the other man behind him, taller or at least you think he is, you can't tell where he ends and the shadows begin untill a headlight passes over, illuminating a juvenile skull mask, thick shoulders, wide arms straining against the sleeves of his jacket.

He seems like a guardian angel, like the grim reaper himself.

"Yeah, thanks mate,"

You groan throat scratchy and dry as you pull yourself up, no energy to dust yourself off as you pat his shoulder.

"Looks like ye could use some help, we'll drop ye off."

You shake your head instinctively

"Nah, thanks, not my first, 'be fine."

He frowns, it's akin to a pout and you're stuck with the thought that he can get anything he wants when he does that.

"Nah, yer in no state to be walkin' home by yeself, plus we insist, don't we?"

He turns to the man behind him who shifts either nervous or stiff and nods.

"Yeah, we do, c'mon."

His words are clipped, voice gravell not that much of a contrast to the other man's like sniew and heartstrings.

You haven't got much left to lose and help is always appreciated -never really deserved - so against whatever better judgement you've got left you let them hold you up by the shoulders and half march, half drag you home.

They're strong, much stronger than you and they carry you with an ease that embarrasses you, you do your best to not look desperate between them, not look needy.

The first one -John- fills the awkward air with small talk and jokes, the other one watches as if he's thinking you through, writing down the pros and cons and although you slur and stumble through your words and laugh way too much you dare to think a favourable judgement has been passed on you when you wake up to a band aid on your busted bottom lip and a note with two numbers on it signed John and  Ghost.

<< Next Chapter / Next Chapter >>

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

barista suguru and reader has the biggest crush on him that they try to ask him out but got too nervous to do so!! however.. reader suddenly see him at a party they were invited in, and what does alcohol do to a person sometimes? confidence, and they hook up (eventually got together??) I'm not sure if this request makes sense, and English isn't my first language..

omg hi anon thank you for the ask - not sure if you're an AOT fan but @humanitys-strongest-bamf has an amazing fic similar to this w Levi and its god tier

anywaysss here we go <3

(The ages in this are all fucked up lol, Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji are 22 and Gojo, Geto, and Shoko are like 25)

content warning: Haibara and Nanami are lovers lmao, weed, alcohol, cigarettes, hookup culture

(this is my original drawing please do not repost)

-

Being well known on your college campus is a blessing and a curse. You loved being involved in a lot of clubs and participating in social events. Going to the library or trying to study was nearly impossible with how many people knew you. However being a senior, you needed to focus and get things done. You lived a little ways off campus to save money and started frequenting a little coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment.

The first time you stopped, you had been walking home from class when a storm with bad winds blew in, and you decided to just study in this cafe until the storm passes. There are little tables all throughout, you grab one near the back and pull out some of your course materials and get started writing notes and going over chapters for your quiz in a few days. That is when a yawn washes over you and the exhaustion from late nights sets in. You figure you might as well get a drink while you're at this coffee shop.

Walking up to the counter you squint up at the menu board trying to decide what you're in the mood for.

"What can I get for you?" a man's voice asks.

Lost in your indecisiveness you don't even look down to make eye contact reading between Americano, Latte, Cold Brew, etc.

"Mmmm, not sure yet, I may need a few minutes," biting your bottom lip thinking about how much caffeine you want to intake today.

"We also have a list of specials down in front of you," he says politely and you see him walk away out of your peripherals.

The thing is, you're not a huge coffee person. Half the time it's too sweet, half the time it's too bitter. The caffeine gives you jitters and makes you anxious. Also sometimes coffee just messes your stomach up so you just have given up on expensive coffee places and opt for making your own shitty coffee at home.

You glance down at the specials list, reading them to yourself,

"Almond Joy Latte

Sparkling Green Tea Refresher

Pink Velvet Cold Brew

Barista's Choice"

You finally look up at the employee, a tall man that is turned around cleaning the espresso machine. His hair is pulled back into a cute bun and his frame is just large. You look at his hands, so large and strong with some veins protruding. He has a black button up on with the sleeves rolled up, exposing tattoos on his forearms. Matching it with black pants and a black apron, he looks kind of dark and mysterious.

He turns around and catches your eye, forgetting all the words that were about to form in your head.

"Still need a minute?" He squints his eyes a little and smiles softly as your eyes rake over his whole face. He has a piece of black bangs sticking out from the bun, pierced ears, a lip ring, amber eyes, and an amazingly chiseled jaw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out and you can feel the heat spread across your cheeks.

"Uh, I, sorry," you shake your head and try to laugh at your own stupor, "Can I do the barista's choice?"

He nods, "Any preferences?"

"Uhm, no, whatever you like," you completely lie through your teeth trying to seem chill. He taps in the order on the iPad at the register and flips it over for you to pay and sign. At least it isn't too expensive if you don't like it, but you eagerly press the "25%" tip button hoping Mr. tall, dark, and handsome appreciates it.

"I'll bring it over to you when it's ready," he smiles and nods his head towards where you were seated.

"Thanks," you smile awkwardly walking back to your course materials, although it's not like you'll be focusing on anything other than the barista soon. You not-so-casually watch him work, obsessed with a man you've hardly spoken to once.

A few minutes later he brings over a cute tea cup and saucer, and you immediately smile when he sets it down, seeing the little design on top.

"It's a dirty chai...like a chai tea latte with a shot of espresso in it and a little special touch. Let me know if you like it."

The man smirks and walks away before you can even properly thank him. You burn your tongue eagerly taking a sip too soon, trying to find another excuse to talk to him. You try to take your mind off of it by scrolling through instagram for a bit while drinking your latte but around this time of year its all couples and engagements and babies which only adds to how down bad you feel. You get a text from your friend Nobara letting you know that a friend of her friend, Megumi, is having a party Friday and the friend told Megumi who told Nobara that they could bring whoever. After deciphering the word vomit of a text she sent you you send back a "thumbs up emoji" letting her know you'll be there because nobody else has invited you anywhere yet.

You finish your drink and decide to pack up your stuff and head home, a few blocks in the rain won't hurt you. It might cool you off from thinking about the dreamy barista you just met. You set the cute mug on the counter, and he turns around when he hears the noise. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking 'how was it?'

"It was great," you smile, "uhm, have a good one," you slightly shrug and turn around to go before he can add anything, just like he did to you earlier.

-

The next few days are uneventful, you walk by the coffee shop every day on your way to campus, wondering if he is working or if you should go in, but not wanting to struggle to pick a drink or pay for coffee again.

On Friday Nobara walks back to your apartment with you, she commutes in to town so whenever there is a party or something going on she crashes on your couch. She eyes the little cafe, "Want coffee? I think tonight might be pretty fun from the sounds of it!" She practically squeals and you find it adorable how excited she is. "Sure" you grumble, holding the door open for her.

She waltzes right up to the counter, decisive as always, and knows exactly what she wants. You trail behind her, not seeing any employees at the counter, squinting up at the menu board yet again. That's when you hear giggling come from the back room and see the handsome barista come out with some supplies, followed by a cute girl with a short brown bob who seems to be helping him.

You can't help but think about his beautiful laugh, and how you can hear it again.

"See ya tonight Shoko" he says, putting his apron back on and refocusing his attention to Nobara.

"Bye Geto!" This so called Shoko calls back to him as she walks out the front door. You cant help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the way he was in the backroom with his apron off and laughing with a girl.

Like girl - quit being delusional, you just heard his name for the first time and he probably doesn't even know who you are.

"Y/n, what do you want?" Nobara interrupts your talk with yourself.

"I'll have what she's having," you say overly confident, smiling at Geto. They both side eye you and you just remain oblivious, opting to go on your phone as you let your friend pay for your coffee as payment for her 'hotel' for the night. The two of you move out of the way and stand off to the side waiting for your drinks while Nobara talks about how Megumi's other friend Yuji is going to be there tonight with his big brother Sukuna and how excited she is because they're both sooo attractive. You nod your head along with what she says while scrolling on your phone. It's not that you don't care what she's saying, it's just that she knows so much about everything. All the gossip on campus is at your fingertips because of her, good or bad. You zone out staring at whatever drinks the barista is making, watching his damn good looking hands do his job. He walks over to you with two cups and you can't help but just stare at him. His outfit today consists of jeans and a tight black tshirt with a flannel jacket over top.

"Two iced matcha lattes with coconut milk and a strawberry cold foam on top," He smiles as Nobara eagerly grabs both of the drinks and hands one to you.

She sips it right away, "This is the best I've ever had thank youuu," she dramatically draws out while pulling you out the door heading to your apartment again. You look back to see him watching you leave and give a small wave with the hand that is holding your drink. You can't tell if you're imagining it but you think you see a faint blush over his cheeks.

-

You and Nobara enjoy your typical pregame activities, getting ready together, listening to music, and sharing a blunt.

"The guy at the coffee shop was checking you out," she half slurs, talking while applying her lip gloss.

"What makes you say that?" You think she's messing with you but you also hadn't told her about your little crush.

"When I was ordering he was staring at you the WHOLE time. Like he didn't even make eye contact with me I don't think!" She wines, "God it's not fair he's so gorgeous."

"To be fair Nobara, you think most guys are gorgeous" You giggle and walk towards the freezer to grab some liquor. "Speaking of gorgeous men, who's party are we even going to tonight?"

"I think it's at some guy named Satoru Gojo's house? I guess he's good childhood friends with Megumi from when he didn't really have a dad." There goes your friend, sharing other people's business when she didn't really need to.

"Mmm," you nod and throw back a shot of liquor, "I think I had a class with him when I was like a freshman and he was a senior. A real interesting character."

"Maybe you can introduce me and I'll get lucky," Nobara raises her eyebrows at you.

"You will not be having sex on my couch." You say sternly before you both erupt in a fit of giggles. Gathering a few last minute things before heading out, you also grab a reusable shopping tote and fill it with a little bit of your own alcohol, you never know what they may or may not have at these kinds of parties.

-

Walking there was a little chilly but overall a nice night for the time of year. This guy must've gone to your school and hadn't left yet given the proximity of his house to your apartment and to campus.

You walk in and see Yuji Itadori right away with his friendly smile and big personality. He gives you both hugs and you know at least if Nobara doesn't get lucky with anyone else she can rely on Yuji.

Your energetic friend holds your hand as she searches the rest of the party to find her friend Megumi. He stands in the kitchen with a white haired man that you faintly think is this Gojo guy, both getting ready to shotgun a beer together. You and Nobara wait to see who wins before interrupting, grabbing drinks out of the cooler and setting down your bag with liquor and hard seltzers in it. It appears that Gojo finishes just a second before Megumi and you hear Nobara interrupting, "Gumi what was that?! You lost like a little bitch?"

He groans in response but ultimately smiles, "Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because you've been stuck with me since high school."

Watching the altercation, Gojo comes up to you and asks, "You're with them?" Nodding his head at the two immaturely arguing.

"Sadly." you respond taking a swig of your drink.

"I'm Satoru Gojo, this is my place, thanks for coming." He eyes you over top of his black round sunglasses, making you feel like you may be wearing too revealing of clothes.

"I'm y/n, thanks for the invite by proxy," You giggle as Megumi makes his way over to you.

"Y/n, good to see you," the spikey haired boy gives you an awkward side hug, and a little kiss on the top of your head. Satoru raises his eyebrows at the two of you and you roll your eyes. When Megumi and Nobara get distracted and head into another room you fill him in. "Megumi and I may have hooked up once or twice when we were drunk," You blush, revealing your secret that hardly anyone knew to this stranger.

"Mhmm, seems like more than once or twice," Gojo sips his drink and sighs dramatically, leaving the kitchen to you alone.

Just then the back door of the kitchen that leads to the back yard creaks open. You turn to see who it was out of instinct, and recognize the girl with the brown bob from the cafe earlier today. She carries on past you not even really looking at you with her cigarette still lit in her mouth.

You see Nobara in the living room from your spot on the kitchen and mouth to her that you're going outside to smoke. She nods and thumbs up, but it seems that Yuji also read your lips and is interested in joining you.

You head out to the backyard, very dimly lit despite the pretty lights Gojo tried to hang up to make it look more aesthetic. You pull out a dab pen and a cigarette and hold them up for Yuji to take his pick. His eyes light up at the weed pen and he takes a huge inhale.

"God Yuji, careful," you laugh and proceed to take a smaller hit.

Your laugh seems to attract the attention of another group standing outside, and you immediately quiet yourself.

"Do you have a light?" One of them asks although you can't make out names or voices and even if you could you don't know many people here.

"Yeah," you respond, digging out a baby pink lighter that has a "Daddy's Girl" sticker on it, a joke that one of your friends gave you. Hopefully its dark enough that they can't see it.

A blonde guy approaches you to grab it, "Thanks, we have some seats over here if you guys want." Yuji happily follows but you're a little apprehensive. However they do have a firepit going so it is a little brighter over there.

"I'm Kento, this is my boyfriend Yu," the two introduce themselves, lighting their cigs at the same time with your lighter. You take another small hit of your pen as the brunette one comments, "Nice lighter." It makes you cough on your smoke a bit but eventually turns into laughter, "Thank you," You smile grabbing it back from them.

Yuji seems to be a little high from his rather large puff earlier, and you ask, "I'm going to go check on Nobara, you need anything?" He smiles and shakes his head and starts some conversation about an underground fight club with the two guys as you walk back inside. You enter back into the kitchen, grabbing another drink and heading into the living room where you last saw Nobara. She is having a heart to heart with some girl that graduated last year that you know of named Maki. They both have been drinking and just are smiling and agreeing with everything the other says.

She suddenly turns to you when she realizes you're standing there, "Your lover, he's here." She abruptly turns back around ignoring your inquiry of who she is referring to. You see Gojo and Megumi talking in the kitchen and decide to go talk to them instead of standing there looking awkward. You couldn't see from the angle you were at, but the brunette bob cigarette girl was also standing with them chatting.

Gojo waves you over to the conversation, putting a playful arm around your shoulders. "So sweetheart," Satoru starts, slurring his words a little more than he was the last time you talked to him, "Were trying to place bets on who's going to hook up with who tonight."

"Shoko has money on Suguru and Yuki, Megumi bets on Nobara and Yuji, and me, well I have money on you and Megumi." The four of you errupt in laughter and yelling over top of each other of who is correct.

"What are we arguing about?" Another voice asks that just came into the kitchen. You turn to see who it is with Gojo's arm still loosely hanging onto you.

"Suguruuuu" Satoru coos, "Finally joined the party! Shoko here thinks you're going to hook up with Yuki tonight."

"Like hell," he mutters looking to see who his best friends choice of girl is for the evening, before his eyes land on you. You can't help but drop your jaw at the beautiful barista from the cafe standing in front of you. It looks like he just showered, wet hair which is half up half down, and you can smell the fresh body wash radiating off of him.

"Who'd you bet Satoru?" Suguru questions, still having his eyes focused on you.

"I bet little miss y/n here and her boy toy Megumi." He responds and your cheeks flush at the fact this beautiful man may think you're not interested because of Gojo's fat mouth.

"Who'd you bet on?" Shoko asks directed towards Geto.

"I'll have to get back to you on that," he turns to get a drink from the cooler before taking a step outside, you assume to smoke.

You excuse yourself from under Satoru's arm, leaving him Megumi and Shoko to talk about more random gossip. Heading to the backdoor, you try to build up some courage to introduce yourself to this Geto guy. Much to your dismay, as you are walking out of the door in your own thoughts, another person was coming through the door to go inside but was a lot more solid than you. Bouncing back onto your ass you giggle, "I'm so so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you look up to meet the amber eyes you've been thinking about for the past week. It feels like the wind has gotten knocked out of you seeing how close your faces were with him grabbing your hand to help you up.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to knock you over like that,” he slightly laughs. “I’m just grabbing a lighter,” letting go of your hand holding the door open.

“Oh I have one here!” You pull it out of your pocket kicking yourself for showing it to someone else again. Well maybe it will at least start a conversation. You hand it to him and he lights his cigarette, not making a comment and hands it back to you. You also decide to light a cigarette, trying your best to look cool doing it but because of the wind you’re having a little trouble. Suguru sticks up his hand to block the wind for you. His damn hands. It’s like as big as your face up close and you say “thanks” with the cigarette hanging out of your mouth now lit.

“Y/n? Is that your name?” He breaks the silence first.

“Yes, are you Suguru?” You ask sweetly back

“Suguru Geto, the one, the only, barista extrodinaire,” he laughs and draws a puff.

“I like your laugh.” You blurt out, now realizing your judgement is a little impaired from your weed alcohol and nicotine pairing. “Sorry that just kind of came out.”

“That’s okay,” he stares at you with kind eyes ashing his cigarette against Gojos house.

“Did you like the matcha today?” He asks after you don’t respond.

“Actually no,” you bust out laughing, “I don’t like matcha I was just distracted when she was ordering.”

“Distracted by what?” He asks.

“You,” you realize how close your faces are and how intimate the moment is with your glowing cigarettes and how intoxicating the mix of his smell is.

He nods and smirks at your response, glancing down at your lips. “I think I want to get to know you more y/n.”

You gather all the courage that you haven’t had with this man for the past few days and put it all in your lips and lean in to kiss him. He kisses back, graciously, putting his hand against the back of your head as you place your hand on his hard pec. He depends the kiss, moving his lips passionately before entering his tongue into your mouth. His free hand wraps around your waist.

Just as things are getting intense you hear Nobara squeal in the kitchen, “GOJO LOOK!” You both break the kiss laughing, but still pressed up against him.

“I think I may know who my bet is on for tonight,” he winks and gives you another kiss, making your knees weak and release a tiny whimper into his mouth. You pray he didn’t hear it, but instead he asks, “needy daddy’s girl?”

You feel your cheeks grow so warm and cover your face with your hands. “Just kidding pretty girl, your lighter was cute though.”

—

reblogs and comment for a part 2 ?? 🤭🤭

[shitsndgiggs]

Heyyy... I'm so happy to hear that you're back..... would you mind writing about kenan and reader where they are married and she is pregnant with their first child... and kenan thinks that the baby is going to be a boy, but it is a girl and their reaction... like a girl dad to be...

IT’S A … - KENAN YILDIZ

In which Kenan is so sure that you’re going to have a boy

Kenan Yildiz x pregnant! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Kenan and I had been eagerly anticipating this day. The living room was filled with friends and family, everyone buzzing with excitement.

We were finally going to find out the gender of our first child. Kenan had been convinced from the start that it was a boy.

A few nights before the reveal, we were lying in bed, enjoying the quiet moments together.

Kenan had his hand gently resting on my belly, a habit he had developed ever since we found out I was pregnant.

"You know," he began, his voice filled with playful excitement, "if it's a boy, we should name him Kenan Jr."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Kenan Jr.? Really?"

"Absolutely," he said, grinning. "Think about it. Kenan Yildiz Jr. We could start training him for football right away. He’d be a little prodigy."

"Or," I teased, "he could be a musician, or an artist, or anything else he wants to be."

Kenan smiled, his eyes softening. "Yeah, you’re right. Whatever he wants to be, I’ll support him. But you have to admit, Kenan Jr. does have a nice ring to it."

I chuckled, feeling a warmth in my heart at his excitement. "We'll see. What if it's a girl?"

"Then she’ll be the luckiest girl in the world," he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "And I’ll be the luckiest dad."

We fell into a comfortable silence, both of us dreaming about the future and the little one growing inside me.

Kenan’s excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of happiness and contentment.

The day of the gender reveal arrived, and we stood in the center of the room, with a large cake on the table before us.

The plan was to cut the cake and reveal the color of the filling – blue for a boy, pink for a girl.

My heart pounded as Kenan picked up the knife, his excitement radiating through me.

"Are you ready for this?" Kenan asked, a wide grin on his face as he squeezed my hand.

I smiled back, feeling the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. "I think so. Are you?"

He chuckled, rubbing my growing belly gently. "More than ready. I'm telling you, it's a boy. I can feel it."

With a swift motion, he sliced into the cake. As he pulled out the first piece, a collective gasp filled the room. There it was, unmistakably pink.

For a moment, Kenan was silent, his smile faltering slightly. I squeezed his hand, searching his face for any sign of disappointment.

But then, his eyes met mine, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

"It's a girl," he whispered, almost in awe. "We're having a girl."

The room erupted in cheers and applause, but all I could focus on was the way Kenan's expression changed.

What began as a flicker of disappointment was quickly replaced by a look of pure adoration and wonder.

He turned to me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "A girl," he repeated, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm going to be a girl dad."

I laughed softly, tears of my own welling up. "Yes, you are. And she's going to be so lucky to have you."

Kenan's hand moved to my belly, and he knelt down, pressing a gentle kiss to it. "Hey, little girl. It's your dad here. I can't wait to meet you. I promise to love you and protect you always."

As the party continued around us, Kenan remained by my side, his excitement growing with each passing minute.

He began to talk about all the things he wanted to do with our daughter, from teaching her how to play football to being her biggest supporter in whatever she chose to pursue.

Over the next few days, I noticed how quickly Kenan adapted to the idea of having a daughter.

He started researching the best schools, thinking about names, and even planning how to baby-proof the house.

One evening, as we were lying in bed, he turned to me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, I was so set on having a boy. But now, I can't imagine it any other way. I can't wait to meet our little girl and watch her grow up."

I snuggled closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. "She's going to have the best dad in the world."

Kenan smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "And she's going to have the best mom. We're going to be a great team."

As the weeks passed, Kenan's excitement only grew. He started reading books on how to be a good father to a daughter and even began talking to other dads about their experiences.

It was heartwarming to see how much he was embracing the idea of being a girl dad.

The day our daughter was born was the happiest day of our lives. Kenan was by my side the entire time, his support unwavering.

When he held our little girl for the first time, the look of pure love and awe on his face was something I would never forget.

"Welcome to the world, my little princess," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

In that moment, I knew that our daughter was going to be cherished and adored every day of her life.

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 6

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

"Oh who is she?" You ask one of three of your brothers in-law. It was his own engagement party but the most lively thing here was the alcohol.

This place was full of snobs and people from the news. A Chevalier getting married is a big deal and you remember it quite well.

"She's dad's new lawyer or something." Joris spat each word out in hatred. She didn't seem bad, she seemed quite sweet, honestly.

Joris never accepts people well, it was a quite long bit till he started to warm up to you. This was his party after all so I guess unwanted guests from his point of view were annoying.

"Well Matt sadly can't defend you a lot or me either." There was some stupid rule that if there was a law case you couldn't interact with it if it involves a family member or relation but Matthew is still your parents lawyer due to prior signed contracts.

"I don't like her already," Joris snarled with his nostrils flaring as he put on his sunglasses. Anger issues is the definition of this man, mad as hell. You wrap your arm around his shoulder and whisper in his ear. "Truly I don't either."

He smiles at you while whispering back, "Well, at least we're on the same page of action."

Getting trusted by the Chevalier family was quite impossible if you were a total outsider. Your family knew them through business which quickly led you into Etienne's circle of trust but with this chick it will be different.

"Just play you like her, I'll do the rest." That's the last thing he tells you before he wanders into the crowd. What did you get yourself into…

------

"He's over there," Jake whispers to you as the two of you sit in two red velvety seats in the top private room of the opera. The guy you need is right there in front of you looking back and taking a glance at you. He knows who the two of you are, or at least your undercover characters.

"He's looking at us," Jake mumbles into your neck as you look into those clear green eyes. "I'm going to sit in your lap and whatever you need to tell me, kiss it into me." Usually you'd never say this but the two of you are pretending to be a sex full couple and right now, it was not giving what it was meant to be giving.

You get up from your seat and swing your leg over Jake's sitting figure so that when you sink down you're facing Jake this time. The second you lower yourself, Jake begins to attack your neck with kisses and love bites.

You let out a groan… That wasn't supposed to happen, your full focus was meant to be on the outcome of this mission but yet Jake's delicate lips upon your skin played a quite different role in this game.

"How do we act," Jake asks you while licking up your neck as you put your lips to his. So passionate and full of emotion. You didn't know what has got into you. Since you were a young child, when brought to the opera you could always fall asleep, let here you were so alive and awake.

"The longer we sit it's not gonna work on him, full contact straight away," you respond. You sink into his lap more though. You've melted into Jake's touch, it was like free sailing on an ocean free from storm so mesmerized in the moment that you didn't notice the time passing and that the guy you needed was tapping you on the shoulder.

------

"Y/N, stop moving your head," Anne laughed as you cocked your head from side to side. For a thirteen year old, you sure were stubborn. Tonight, your parents are holding an annual gala which means you had to be prepared like a jewel for the show.

"But I don't want some hair due," you groan, slouching your shoulders in the chair. Anne had patients with you, for all you were just a kid but she understands that you don't like the whole concept of being rich and looking it.

"You know, kiddo. Once you get there, you'll be so mesmerized in the moment you won't notice it pass, trust me there."

"Sir, Adanson," you say turning around in Jake's lap. You see this undercover wasn't a act like this was some sort of Shakespeare play but a game where the second he turns to you you blow of his damn head.

For years you've been hunting this man down and have been getting nowhere. For years you've chased after him, through continents, countries, capitals, towns and cities but all it took was to lure him into your reach and distract him with a inexistent personality.

"You have a lot of balls coming down here," Jake comments, tilting his head to the left as Adanson stares at him in disbelief. Nobody speaks to a man like that in such a way that he was standing his ground in his face that Jake was a different man with no threat on his life.

"Pardon?" Adanson asked in disbelief. No one ever tried to talk to him in such way, nobody ever wanted to mess with such man, let here the two of you where.

"You have no balls, walking up to two gods and thinking some manners are a shit that can protect you," you snap as the standing man growls at you, you were getting on his nerves. As you were planning to.

"Do you know who your talking to?" Wow, he thinks that kind of speech will scare you? A speech about a snob kissing his own damn ass.

"Oh, yes I do and I don't care."

With that you give your signal to Jake which represents the start of the fight. You pull out your gun and aim it directly at two of men. Jake throws himself at which causes you to be left with the sidemen.

"So we meet again." One of then howls at you. You've caught many men over the years so recognising these was impossible. You try to shoot him but he grabs your wrist, spinning you, causing you to scream horror in pain.

He swung you round, throwing you against the wall as you hit of one of the carved pillars. Damn the world is spinning or at least it's messed up, because now you see three of the same man rather than one.

You have very little energy but once the world stops spinning it's when you'll manage to get up straight. He wants the satisfaction, the pain of you getting back up since he doesn't attack but instead he waits, which gives you an advantage.

You run at him, the jump you take would most likely be compared to a leprechauns, and kick the bodyguard straight into the king's jewels where the sun doesn't shine. To this he hurls over and groans. You don't hesitate like he did to you, you ram him with your fists as he kept going backwards until he reaches the railing to which you respond, "Bon voyage!" As he falls to his death.

"Whose next boys?"

------

"Mr. Adanson, you in this case have NO right to a lawyer or to remain silent. Each question asked will b answered and no proper trial shall be held. The evidence of all your crimes is here and your name is written all over it, have a nice time behind bars."

You don't know who that officer was saying all those words, but you loved the guy, putting Adanson in his place was your dream for years now. Finally fighting out the justice and beating the hell outta that guy as well.

Jake wraps his arm around you as the sight is full of police and Agents. His touch is comfort, which you lean into with a smile as he says, "Let's go to the hotel, I think we both have enough for one messed up night."

You two turn, still with each others touch. The things you did together this night will never be forgotten by either. You sat in his lap and let him place his lips upon your body, wherever he wished. That will never be forgotten.

Even though both of you had enough for one night, the evening was still quite young.

-----

"Come on, you guys really believe she should be trusted! We don't know the whore!" Joris shouts out quite frustrated. This was probably one of the dumbest things to possibly do, meet up without Etienne and Pene. If either find out you all might as well leave the planet.

"Joris, why the hell do you always judge people before you know them," Matthew sighs back into his chair looking at his younger brother Romain to help him in this unwinnable arguement. Usually he'd look at you to help him out since Joris trusts you a slightly listens but while they sit at the table, you stand staring out the big glass window looking down upon the big sea at view.

"Matt! The bitch appeared a week ago and now apparently she's in his 'circle of trust'!" I mean you could sorta understand the frustration that Joris had. You guys had no clue where Olivia came from but her backstory did check out so that at least could be slightly trusted but the rest, it could all be faked.

"Y/n, can't your Justin or whatever his name is friend, help us out?" Matthew rolled his eyes at that. He despised Justin more than anything. He hated his guts, name style, EVERYTHING. Technically to you Justin wasn't even a friend anymore, he stopped being that a long time back, now he's just an acquaintance. You turn around and stare at the three brothers out of four quite intensely, truly you were flaming at his idea.

"There is NO way on god's green earth that you'll drag me down into this. I've done things to people that I should be long hung for, for this family. You guys are lucky that. I even agreed to coming because once Etienne finds out we'll already be dead."

Romain finally speaks up and announces, "She's right. Let's give her a shot."

You knew you couldn't call in your car or in the house where the family was so you had to go out, out as far as possible. You go down to the beach to call her and once you do you only leave on message, "Olivia, they're onto you."

-----

You always told yourself that adults do things that they regret but this now is not one of those situations

Jake unlocks the door, closes it, and places his items on the kitchen counter before approaching you two. As he scoops you up, he starts kissing you and forcing you to wrap your legs around his body. You can feel his delicate tongue pleading for admittance, which you allow. The kiss was ravenous, and even though he probed every corner of your mouth, it was insufficient.

He drags you into the master bedroom and lays you on the bed, then removes all of his belongings. Looking at his physique made you wetter; he had a mysterious effect on you.

After that, he lowers himself and kisses your jawline, neck, and chest. You groan at the slightest brush of his soft lips against your skin. He aids you in removing your garments, leaving you just in your pants, which he then removes.

He started sucking on your sensitive nipples. Swirling his tongue and blowing air on them, he knew it would drive you insane, arching your back and making you moan out in agony as your desire for him was unbearable. "Jake hurry" you say getting impatient, "how bad do you need me" he declares in a raspy voice looking towards you from smothering your chest.

"Really bad, Jakey," you remark once again, leaning your back to him. He hovers above you, holding his erect member and rubs it against your highly wet region, causing you to gasp. He begins to put it in with gentle strokes. Before he eventually says it all, you let out small whispers.

As you hold his arms, he places the top of his head against the curve of your neck. Returning to your lips, he runs his hand up your thighs, stroking the aching area. You arch your back in want for him as you feel yourself becoming moist. You grab hold of his hair as he starts sucking on your stiff nipples.

He groans with pleasure as he swirls the tip of his tongue around you. He kicks your pants to the side, inserting a pair of fingers and pounding in and out.

You whimpered and bit your bottom lip. He lifts his head to your ear and whispers, "I love to hear your purrs," in a deep rich voice that sends shivers down your spine. He pulls his two fingers out of you and licks the come off his fingers. "You taste heavenly," he adds, his eyes blazing with passion. You felt yourself on his tongue after slamming his lips into yours.

"Fuck me please," you beg, barely breaking free from the kiss, as he pulls you off the sink and flips you around, bending you over on the bathroom counter. Pulling his trousers down, he reveals his firm member. He teases you by rubbing it on your soaking wet area before carefully applying it. You moan with delight as he fully invests himself in you. He begins with small strokes and gradually increases his pace.

"Holy Shit, fuck," you gasp, as he rubs your throbbing area with his left hand and pounds you from behind. He takes his right hand and wraps it over your neck, allowing you to arch your back little more. As his strokes increase quicker and harder, your moans become uncontrollable.

You can only blurt out "I'm gonna cum" between moans. He pounds you harder while softly tightening his grasp on your neck, never missing your g-spot. As you get closer to your climax, your walls tighten.

You give out a loud gasp as you approach your peak, prompting him to halt his strokes. He unlocks your throat and emerges from within you. He turns you around and gently kisses you.

Guess he finally worked the charm.

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[racheyace]

do you plan on doing any more hendrix + ryder stories like one shots, spin-offs?

G/t July day 9 - Warmth

I'm back!!! Finally it's school holidays in Aus and I can get back to answering Asks and writing stories now that my life has settled down for a little while anyway!

Also, a welcome back to Hendrix and Ryder, please note, this story is a continuation of my four-part story Lightning Ridge, it is highly recommended that you read that story first though I suppose not absolutely necessary.

Thank you anon for the ask, I love these boys dearly and have been dying to write this short for them, there will be more to come! Their story is far from over!

TW: swearing, minor adult themes

Approx 2.2k words

Meeting The Family

“You ready for this?” Ryder asked gently, observing that his friend was growing more and more anxious with each step they took toward Rassau.

It was hard for Hendrix to hide any of his emotions from Ryder, not only because they had gotten to know each other very well over the last few months but also because it’s damned near impossible to hide anything when you’re over sixty feet tall.

“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Hendrix sighed, in truth his mind was in a spiral of all the awful things that could happen. The worst being that even after all this time away and now being able to prove to his family that he could control his shifting, they may still slam the door in his face.

Ryder who was currently perched on Hendrix’s shoulder, gave his friends neck a gentle pat.

“People change, Hendrix, there’s not much I can do to reassure you, but I can promise I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.” Ryder offered gently.

The village of Rassau was fast approaching and when they could see the village getting closer above the trees, Hendrix stopped. Lifting a hand to his passenger, Ryder stepped on with zero hesitance and a practiced display of balance as he was lowered to the forest floor.

Hendrix whilst still crouched on the ground, closed his eyes and concentrated on urging his body to shift to his human size. Anxiety pulsed in his heart, he swallowed nervously but continued to focus. Shifting when he was stressed in any way was difficult.

When he opened his eyes once more he found himself staring at Ryder’s knees as he was still crouched down, quickly he stood and smiled, something about seeing his friend when they were at the same scale made Hendrix’s heart soar.

Ryder only raised an eyebrow at him before ruffling up his dirty blonde hair and laughing. “Alright squirt, let’s go.” Ryder said heading in the direction of Rassau.

“I’m still taller than you.” Hendrix argued before using his fingers to try and tame his now messy hair.

“That may be, but I’m older than you, kid.” Ryder laughed, a deep sound that Hendrix decided he loved to hear.

“By six months!” Hendrix pointed out aghast.

The two unlikely friends had only met around three months ago, and after their harrowing venture of taking down Blade, a nasty shifter who had been terrifying the residents nearest to Lightning Ridge, they had grown a complicated bond.

Neither one admitting how they truly felt to the other, though they had by now shared a few particularly intimate experiences with each other. Whatever they were to each other didn’t matter though, for right now all they truly knew was that they had each other’s backs.

They passed by a sign that read ‘Entering Rassau’ and before long they were flanked with winding cobblestone streets and old stone buildings on either side of them.

“You remember where they live?” Ryder asked, scanning the few folk that were around.

Rassau appeared to be a relatively poor village, most of the buildings were overrun with vines and foliage while there also seemed to be very few people around. And the few that were around, paid them no mind, simply going about their own business. Hendrix recognised no one, but to him the small village had not changed much since he’d left when he was ten years old, about fifteen years ago now.

“Yeah, just up this way.” Hendrix indicated a corner up ahead that would lead to a small street of residential houses. “They may not even still be in Rassau.”

“Only one way to find out aye?” Ryder grunted.

They came upon the last house on the corner of the street, an old circular house, made with the same old stone that the rest of the village seemed to favour. Hendrix and Ryder stood staring at it for some time, Ryder eventually cleared his throat and motioned for Hendrix to go up to the door, but right in that moment Hendrix found himself frozen in place.

All Hendrix could see was the horrified look on his mothers face as he grew before her eyes for the first time, even at the fragile age of ten Hendrix had been able to stop himself from outgrowing the house. The damage had already been done though, his father had taken him straight down to the court house demanding the beheading of a giant living in their midst.

He'd felt so betrayed, it had all happened so quickly, as he was cast out of Rassau all he could remember hearing was Ella crying begging for her brother to come back. He’d heard she had now grown up, married and moved away to another village nearby, in his travels he often would stop through and ask about his family, always curious about what had happened in the time he had been away. He could only hope she was happy.

Hendrix heard a loud pounding on the wooden door and noticed in alarm that Ryder had gone ahead and begun knocking on the door for him, clearly impatient.

“Ryder!” Hendrix hissed and quickly came to stand beside him just as the old door creaked open.

A short woman with greying hair answered the door, her features had become wrinkled and she had aged a fair bit but Hendrix recognised those stormy dark blue eyes, the same as his own. This was his mother.

“Good evening Madam, I’m Ryder and this is Hendrix, I believe you know him.” Ryder said quite simply.

“Hendrix?” The woman croaked in disbelief.

“Hi mother.” Hendrix said rather softly, still not quite believing he was seeing her again after all this time.

They stared at each other for some time, looking at each other as though they were ghosts, that was until Ryder cleared his throat once more.

“Could we come in?” He asked politely.

She simply pushed the door open wider and let the two large men into her home, Hendrix lead the way to the kitchen, where Ryder then sat down letting mother and son reacquaint themselves properly.

“It’s really you.” The woman said breathlessly.

Hendrix simply nodded and then found himself in the tight grip of his mother as she hugged him viciously. He fought back the tears that sprouted to his eyes, he didn’t realise just how badly he’d needed a hug from his mother and he gripped her just as tightly.

“So uh, can I get you some tea.” She said as she broke away. “And for your, uh, friend? Ryder was it?”

“Yes please.” Ryder smiled warmly at her.

“Excuse my manners, I’m Emily, my husband, uh, Hendrix’s father I mean, George should be along shortly.” She rambled on as she put a pot of water on to boil over the fire.

“Thank you, mum.” Hendrix said, unsure of what else to say.

“What are you doing in Rassau? Isn’t it dangerous to be back here?” Emily asked whilst searching for some teacups.

“Only if he get’s dobbed in again.” Ryder chimed in somewhat coldly.

Emily seemed taken aback, she looked between Ryder and Hendrix and stuttered. “W-well, y-you were a child, we couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t put Ella or anyone else in danger. We were only doing what we thought was best for everyone.”

“Everyone except for Hendrix.” Ryder snapped.

“That’s enough Ryder.” Hendrix stood between his mother and his friend, he appreciated that Ryder was angry and wanted to support him, but picking a fight wouldn’t benefit anyone right now.

“I was trying to protect my child!” Emily shouted in defence; her words sliced through Hendrix though in cold sharp pieces.

“As far as I’m aware, you had two children.” Ryder said.

The room was quiet then, Hendrix could hear the loud sound of his nervous breathing. Though his mother acted polite to start with he could see that nothing had changed, as soon as he’d become a shifter, he was no longer her son.

“Let’s just go.” Hendrix mumbled, deflated and not particularly interested in hearing any more.

Ryder stormed for the door and Hendrix followed close behind, though he paused in the doorway, turning back to face his mother.

“I’ve never been a danger to anyone, least of all to Ella…I didn’t deserve to be thrown away.” He grit his teeth in anger, he knew this had been a mistake, they had never accepted him, seeing him only as a monster, that wasn’t going to change.

Without waiting for a response, Hendrix slammed the door behind him and marched down the street not even looking to see if Ryder followed him. He was shaking, with anger, with hurt and his own stupidity for letting Ryder convince him that maybe his parents had changed.

“Hey Hendrix?” Ryder called from behind him.

“What is it?”

“You’re growing.”

Hendrix paused mid stride, he’d not even noticed his surroundings growing smaller as he stormed through the streets, his head was just passing the second story building to his right and it didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Hendrix growled, not even waiting for his friend, he began to carefully navigate the small streets.

As he reached the sixty foot mark, he then carefully stepped over the smaller buildings, heading back for the forest and ignoring the screams that his sudden appearance caused the village folk.

Once he’d reached the forest, he let out all of his built up emotions. Kicking at trees, causing them to crack and break, any critters who had been nearby had now fled as Hendrix dove his fists into a giant boulder he’d found within the large clearing. The rock cracked, jagged chunks of stone digging into Hendrix’s fist and causing blood to dribble between his fingers.

His shoulders shook as he fought back sobs but in the end he wasn’t strong enough to hold them back and he eventually turned his back to the boulder and slid to the forest floor. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his bloody hands around himself as he buried his face and cried.

A short time later, Hendrix felt the pressure of a small hand on his hip, he looked down to see Ryder looking up at him with concern.

“That was fucked, I’m sorry.” His small voice was gentle and full of guilt, after all he’d been the one to suggest the idea.

“It’s not your fault.” Hendrix voice cracked with emotion. “It had been on my mind and I would have gone back eventually, I’m glad you were there, thank you.”

Hendrix reached down and wrapped his fingers around Ryder’s waist, though Ryder might normally scold him about giving him some warning next time. He decided it best to the let the giant do what he needed to do and his heart broke for his friend as he was pressed into a large warm chest and held there in a firm oversized hug.

Hendrix pulled his friend away from his chest and then brought him up before his face, opening his hand out so Ryder sat comfortably in his palm instead of in a fist.

“You’re not some monster Hendrix, you’re a man, a kind, gentle and brave man with an extraordinary ability. I wish they had gotten the chance to know you like I do, it’s their loss, not yours, okay?” Ryder’s hazel eyes met Hendrix’s imploring him to believe what he was telling him.

Hendrix’s eyes flooded with tears anew, he couldn’t believe this human, this man who had so much trust in him, believed in him like nobody else ever had. Without thinking Hendrix leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ryder’s face.

Warmth flooded his body immediately and his broken heart felt as though it were being taped back together again. Hendrix felt Ryder stiffen on his lips and his stomach churned immediately feeling guilty he pulled Ryder away from his face. Ryder looked stricken, his hair mused from where Hendrix’s damp lips had touched it, and his cheeks were a bright red.

“Ryder I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I wasn’t thinking I-.“ Hendrix began a fast paced apology, his own cheeks burning with embarrassment at reading the feelings between them wrong somehow.

“Shut up Hendrix.” Ryder said, he stepped to the edge of Hendrix’s hand and pressed his own lips to Hendrix’s much larger ones.

Time seemed to stop between the two of them, Hendrix holding completely still as he felt Ryder press his small hands into his bottom lip and kissed him with a passion Hendrix had only ever seen when engaged in a fight.

Eventually when Hendrix could no longer hold his breath anymore they pulled apart and both were left flushed and breathing heavily.

“Uh, hello.”

The silence was broken between them as a different voice piped up in the clearing causing both men to physically jump in alarm. They both looked down to the forest floor to see that a small boy, who looked to be no older than ten years old, stood at the edge of the clearing watching them curiously.

“I’m Theo.” The boy introduced himself. “Are you Hendrix?” He asked.

“Uh.” Hendrix cleared his throat noticing how high pitched his voice had become after kissing Ryder. “Yeah.” He confirmed.

The boy sighed in relief and smiled broadly up at them both.

“I’m your brother.”