#op my heart goes out to you

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not letting people know I'm quitting?

I work in education just finished a really hard school year. I'm chronically ill and ended up at my school because I was life-threatingly sick and had to drop out of my graduate ed program... again. A position that was only a few hours a day came up, so I applied and rolled with it until the end of the year.

It was great; I loved the students and my coworkers. I had tons of fun. The kids are fantastic and are such bright little people but working with young'uns is a kind of energy I cannot sustain.

I'm leaving because it's so hard on my body and I have no support. I let admin know about being ill and I was ignored. I went through the process for ADA accomodations and they pulled my job title to 'justifably' deny me—I do the same work everyone else does, just for a shorter time. The people who assured me I could go to secondary (a much calmer level for my work) told me no chance.

So, I'm just not going to sign my contract when it comes in August. I might be leaving education all together because everything seems to be telling me I just can't be ill and an educator as the same time (which makes me frustrated; no matter how much support we give to kids they're still seeing people like them weeded out before their eyes.) I always said the situation is complicated when asked about returning but I didn't tell anyone outright.

My school, as everyone's, is incredibly understaffed. My team enjoyed having me around and says they really needed me—I was there to handle a lot of really difficult situations with students. We've lost nearly 20 people going into next year already.

What are these acronyms?

[r0semultiverse]

In case you didn’t know or needed to hear it, things do get better after you turn 18. Your life isn’t over even when you hit 21. 💜

This is me at vaguely around my mid-twenties. I’m trans & I’m here & while I don’t have everything figured out, I certainly have figured myself out way more than when I was younger. 💜 Yes it gets better. Yes you can grow older & be trans. There are people out there willing to love & accept you for you. There are partners, friends, family to be found. Don’t give up! 💪 Be proud, be loud, & let your rage out! Down with cis! Let’s rock this joint & keep on living!! 🖤 Things will be less noisy eventually, just please live! ⭐���

💖 You are worth it & it gets better! 💜

[zumicho]

when u say kind things in my rb tags do u ever consider the consequences? are u going to restock my tissues? my eyes are puffy and my cheeks are sore i love u all

[spectroscopic-gayety]

Heyyyyyyy um, bit of a hot take here, but could we stop telling people to kill themselves if they genuinely didn’t know something???? Or stop cursing out a whole country for 7 idiots who can’t use google???

Thanks.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

More Doki Doki Battle Academy OP AU

even MOOROEEE of themmmmmahhhhhhh babyeyyy i even added some dialogues fir some extra flavourrrrr (kuma and bonney's gif there would be a sprite he would have in his dialogue scenes. i dont think it would be a gif like this, more like everytime you look back at him, bonney would be in a different spot)

original DDBA designs post (has more lore there, go look at it plese :3

ASL dialogue video

imagining the vinsmoke/strawhat beef going like this video

design stuffs and more lore:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

One of the schools is called the Germa 66 Private Battle Academy, it goes from grades 1-12 and its where the Vinsmoke siblings all went too (at least until sanji broke off from the family at some point) and its run by Judge Vinsmoke, their father.

i am thinking that the Vinsmoke kids would still be genetically modified and Kuma would be a cyborg in this too.

design stuffs:

Ichiji: i tried to make him as punk as he would feasably get away with living under his father's rule. Big "combat" boots, fingerless gloves, black undershirt. He likes his style and would probably go all out if he didnt have to conform to his school uniform, thus i put a little heart on his boots.

Niji: i also made him like his style. The rings on his fingers, his nikes shoes, his big headphones. Like a gamer who thinks this is what fashion is. I think he would love listening to music too so i put his heart on his headphones.

Yonji: big stakly guy. Hes a lot more hands-on than his brothers so i put lots of emphasis on that area. i put his heart on his hand wraps because i think he would really love fighting. I think that Yonji is most like his father in that enjoyment, but i think Judge wouldnt like how casual Yonji's style is.

Reiju: y2k queen. I love this design on her so much im so bummed that she would have already graduated from the academy and i cant put her in a Hit Me Baby One More Time-esque uniform outfit, shed fucking KILL THAT SHITTT. Anyway though, reiju's heart is subtle yet in plain view, the locket around her neck. i dont think she would let anyone look at the contents but i do think that absolutly it would be her mother on one side and her brothers on the other. She wouldnt like people looking at it because that would mean someone could see that her dad isnt in there and she would get it a lot of trouble with her father about it.

Power ranger fits: i made them full on power rangers. its what they deserve. Since reiju has a butterfly motif in canon, i thought it would be fun to also give her brothers a bug motif of their own. ichiji is a wasp, niji is a dragonfly, yonji is a stag beetle. If sanji stuck around, hed probably be a lady bug lol. Also the masks they wear, the eye window part, it’s like tear tracks coming out but in a way that doesnt look like thats what they are. But it’s meant to show how judge forcing his children to be these people is causing them pain.

thank you @zethsdumpster for being my Vinsmoke specialist and helping me come up with a lot of their design stuff!

Doflamingo: i tried to make him a Nasty Nasty man. Like if a used car salesman made it big. Like if Macklemore was MackleMORE. i love the idea that he likes to tan himself, but he doesnt take any of his clothes off to do so, so he just has the absolute craziest tan lines ever. i put his hearts on the gold chain around his neck, he loves his wealth but not much else. i love the idea of him having two very expensive watches on each wrist. there may be more watches up his sleeve too. i also gave him fluffy dice around his neck, like he's one of the cars that he's selling.

Rosinante: i couldnt get away much longer without putting the heart man into the heart 'game'. i couldve went off more with the hearts of his design but i didnt want him to become nearly as flashy as his brother. i wanted him to be understated and fade into the background when doflamingo is around. he is dead in this au btw sorry :/ this is his design when he passed, but doffy's design is present day him. anyway, Rosi's hearts are everywhere, its in the outline of his big huggable fluffy coat, its on his hat thats pulling him down, it would be on his shirt too if it wasnt covered by his coat in this image.

Bonney: SHEEES SO CUUTEEEE AAAAAAAA i love her. I based her design off of Avril Lavigne with her iconic necktie/tanktop/baggy pants looks. i tried to make her outfit look like she could feasibly fit in it when she ages herself up, especially her big ol shoes. the heart in her design is in her neck tie. The stereotypical visage of a dad is a man in a tie who goes to work, and she loves her dad, so her heart is in her dad tie.

Kuma: I didn't change much of him from his design in canon, but since bonney would be more in his life in this version, i wanted to give him more visual indicators of her being there. like the height chart on his leg, or the fuzzy hat she crocheted for him (she also made her own hat for herself). Also, the pattern on his shirt is one that looks like a paw, but if you took off that outer layer, if the pattern continued, the design would be a sun, and i just think that was really clever ehe ehe.

Hancock: Basically i tried to make her the baddest bitch in the universe. My program crashed like 3 times making her which is so funny. Procreate couldnt handle her. I based her design off of Medusa. at first i had her snake be made out of marble, but it eventually wound up at Obsidian. She has no visible hearts on her design and thats because it would be the scar on her back, which she tries to hide. i like the idea that this very visibly revealing outfit would be perfectly tailored and reinforced to never move a single inch to let anyone see what theyre not supposed to. I dont know how i would justify her being able to turn people into stone in this AU, so im just not going to make a decision on whether or not she can do that.

ive been working on these designs off and on ever since i made the first post on this au and im real happy i can finally put more out.

if you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading~ i hope you enjoyed :)

[enhaflixer]

🎬 𝐄𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐓𝟕

Bf! Hyung line goes grocery shopping - texts

Bf! Maknae line goes grocery shopping - texts

Bf! Enha Flower prank - texts

Brother! Enha setting you up with Crush! Member - texts

Spy Partner! Enha confessing to you - texts

Friend!Enha accidntally texting their crush!reader thinking its someone else

Enha getting into a fight with their pregnant wife. PART 2

Ex-husband!Enha texts after divorce.

Enhypen as the Bridgerton siblings - written

Bf! Enha reaction when you ask them to run an errand but they're too lazy (or just too horny) - written

Bf! Enha reaction when you won't let them sleep because you're too horny - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Bf! Enha reaction when you innocently ask them a sexual question - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Bf! Enha reaction when they're pissed off with you on valentines day! - written

Bf! Enha reaction when you ask to sit on their face - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Brat tamer! Enhypen x Brat f!reader - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Husband! Enhypen texting you that they're horny while you're at work - texts (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Bf! Enhypen reaction to being tied up - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Bf! Enhypen overstim + breeding kink - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Bf! Enha the sounds and faces they make during sex - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

bf!Enha ass v tits - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

bf! Enha making out in the car - written

bf!Enha reaction to you getting flustered - written

Dad!Enha x Mom!reader SMUT - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

Enha's my eyes only folder - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

🎥 Bf! Heeseung texts - crack, suggestive, fluff

🎥 Academic rival! Heeseung texts - extremely suggestive

🎥 under the covers. (AN E2L UNDERCOVER COPS FAKE MARRIAGE AU) - written

wc. 24.7K (Smut, Fluff, Angst, High stakes)

you’ve never liked lee heeseung. he’s cold, unreadable, and way too good at his job—so of course, the captain decides to partner you with him for an undercover op that requires you to be married. the rules are simple: go undercover. pretend to be in love. don’t actually fall for him. except now he’s pinning you against a wall, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that low, amused drawl, and touching you like he means it. …so, yeah. this might be a problem.

🎥 grumpy bf! Heeseung x Sunshine f! Reader texts - crack suggestive, fluff

🎥 CUMMING OF AGE - bsfs brother!Heeseung when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. - porn with plot (ENHA HARD HOURS)

“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.” “And if she won’t listen…” “I’ll make her.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

🎥 The Marriage law (a harry potter au) - written

wc: 20.5K (fluff, angst, smut)

A Marriage Law was never supposed to dictate your future, yet here you are—legally bound to Park Jongseong, a pureblood heir with an unreadable gaze and a sharp tongue. What starts as an obligation quickly becomes something messier, heavier, and far too real. Living under the same roof forces you to confront each other in ways neither of you are prepared for—stolen glances, accidental touches, words left unsaid. The law may have forced your hands, but your hearts? That’s another matter entirely. Is this just survival? Or is there something worth fighting for buried beneath the resentment, the tension, and the undeniable pull between you?

🎥 Signed, Sealed & Undone. - written PART 1 PART 2

wc: 24K (angst fluff smut)

Fake marriage proposals are a tired billionaire trope. But when Jay Park—former golden boy of Park Industries, now chaebol exile—comes back from disgrace (and back in time), he’s got one goal: rewrite the past before it destroys him. When you, an unassuming journalist with nothing to lose, get an offer of a lifetime, you’re sure it’s a mistake. A contract, a relocation to Seoul, and one fake wedding later, you’re still trying to convince yourself none of this is real. The only problem? Neither of you seem to remember where the performance ends and something devastatingly real begins.

🎥 dom bf!jay x fucked outf!reader - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

🎥 when walls fall - written (angst, fluff)

She thinks he cheated on her. he didn't.

🎥 overstimulating bf!Jay - written ENHA HARD HOURS

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

🎥 Hexed-Hindered ( i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again) - written

wc : 1.1K (Fluff, crack)

A rivalry. A storm. One terrible case of forced proximity. And one very unfortunate witness to your first kiss. (A harry potter AU)

🎥 Chasing Ghosts - written

wc: 14.7K (Crime, betrayal, e2l)

You spent years chasing Specter, the most elusive criminal the force has ever encountered. But every near miss, every failed case, every lead that went cold—it was never just bad luck. It was orchestrated. Because the real traitor wasn’t the man you were hunting. It was the one standing right beside you. 

🎥 STRIKES OUT. - written

wc: 23.5K (Secret Pregnancy, found family, soccer AU)

Five years ago, Jake Sim walked away to chase his soccer dreams, never knowing he left more than just a broken heart behind. Now, he's back—unwittingly running a soccer clinic where his five-year-old daughter is signed up. The daughter he doesn’t know exists. You tell yourself he won’t notice. You tell yourself he won’t put the pieces together. Then she grins up at him, dimples flashing, and says: "We have the same last name! Maybe we're related!" And just like that, your past collides with your present.

🎥 nerdybf!jake x f!reader - a good boy and mommy kink. - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

🎥 GOLDEN BOY! - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

your mornings follow a strict routine: wake up.  Ignore your alarm. Spread your legs and ruin yourself to the thought of Jake Sim. he doesn’t know you exist.  star student, always on time. you stumble into class late, wrecked, barely holding it together. you get paired up for a project. when he figures out why you’re always late? you’re fucked.  literally.

🎥 Touché - written (Crack Fluff SMUT)

DATING YOU TO DISTRACT YOU BUT GETS DISTRACTED FIRST

🎥 bf!Jake and That Goddamn Tongue - written (FLUFF SMUT CRACK) ENHA BF PROBLEMS

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

🎥 Super Villain from temu (villain & violent, infant & innocent) - written

wc: 1K (Fluff, Crack)

He became a villain by accident. You became a hero by chance. Now, you're both stuck in a never-ending game of tag—except he's definitely losing (and somehow still flirting)

🎥 King of tears. (Queen of Tears AU) - written

wc: 20K (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

your marriage to park sunghoon was supposed to be a fairytale—until it wasn’t. now it’s cold stares across the dinner table, separate bedrooms in a mansion too big for the both of you and divorce papers waiting to be signed. you were ready to walk away. he let you. so why does he look at you like he’s the one who lost everything?

🎥 Bf!Sunghoon when you're needy in the early morning - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

🎥Cold Friend!Sunghoon texts when he takes you for granted - Texts (Angst, fluff)

🎥 campus crush!sunghoon x f!reader - written ENHA HARD HOURS

stats class. keep ur glasses on when u fuck me. statistical analysis with ur tongue. thats abt it. sunghoon word porn ngl

🎥 bf! sunghoon x f! reader - written tying sunghoon up and suddenly you hear the rope rip. ENHA HARD HOURS MDNI 18+

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

🎥 Not Strong Enough (Songfic) - written

wc: 1K (Angst, Ex lovers)

🎥 dom! sunoo x f!reader - written ENHA HARD HOURS

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

🎥 i don't wanna be the owner of your fantasy (i just wanna be a part of your family) - written

wc: 4.9K (Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut)

Jungwon’s birthday should have been a celebration, but instead, it turns into a night of painful truths and breaking points. When an argument spirals into the possibility of letting go, Jungwon refuses to accept that love isn’t enough. But can love alone fix what’s been breaking between you? Or will this night be the one that decides the fate of your marriage?

🎥 all i know is we said hello (and your eyes looking like coming home) - written

wc. 3.7K (Angst to fluff, friends to lovers)

Years of just friends start to unravel when Jungwon dates the wrong girl, and you realize you might’ve lost him for good—until one fight changes everything.

🎥 Sweet Talk - written PART 1 PART 2

wc: 25K (ANGST fluff SMUT)

You’re used to observing Yang Jungwon from a distance. Campus golden boy, dance department star, the kind of person you warn your podcast listeners about—the ones that are too charming, too smooth, too easy to love. But then he starts looking back. Smiling at you across coffee shops. Sitting next to you in lectures. Texting you late at night. Before you know it, you’re in a relationship that feels too good to be true. And that’s because it is. He was supposed to make you fall for him. And he did. The problem? He fell too. (But love doesn’t erase betrayal, does it?)

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

🎥 bf!riki x f!reader - waking you up with head (ENHA HARD HOURS)

🎥 Vampire support group - written (fluff, crack)

🎥 don't tap out now - written (ENHA HARD HOURS)

📩 Requests: Open | 📢 Taglist: Ask to be added!

[charliemwrites]

Just had a vivid image of being 141’s collective GBF but not in the toxic way. In the genuine, these are my best friends, my brothers, and we look out for each other - but they especially look out for you.

You don’t walk anywhere alone on base, esp at night. They scowl at men that even look at you too long, hands straying towards their weapons to make a point. You can spar with anyone on base but if you end up bloodied, your opponent has a 1 in for 4 chance of guessing who his next opponent will be.

Youre their precious little sister figure. Combat with ghost, engineering with soap, tactics and strategy with Gaz, sniper with Price. At any given time you can lean on one of them, steal things out of their belts, feed them from your own hand, knick food off their plates or sips from their cups.

You’ve never had your own place to stay because you bounce around to their apartments. Usually end up with Ghost, but if he’s away on a mission, you’re happy to sleepover with any of the boys.

You’ve all seen each other asleep, sick, naked, half-dead, highs and lows and everything in between. You’re a unit. And they look out for you as if you’re blood to each and every one of them.

Right? Right.

So imagine the alarms bells when you’re separated from them on a covert op. You’re still on the radio, voice low, but you curse and tell them you have to go dark - someone’s coming.

Imagine the dwindling nerves when you don’t come back on comms. When they reach exfil and wait one minute… two… seconds drawing out and window to stay undetected closing.

Ghost goes back in to find you because it’s ghost.

Imagine the heart in throat terror when he finds a KorTac operative pinning you in a dark, too-quiet corner. Ghost can hear you breathing loud and fast from meters away, can see the whites of your wide eyes.

He draws a knife and throws it without hesitation, but you’ve seen him, which has drawn the enemy’s attention as well. The knife hits the man’s shoulder instead of his neck, but the distraction is enough for you to slip away. A high-pitched squeak in the back of your throat as you flee to the safety of your LT, an uncharacteristic weakness in your spine.

“Wha’ ‘appened?” Ghost growls, grabbing your shoulders, looking you over for obvious injuries. When you just shake your head, hand white-knuckled in the straps of his vest, he snarls. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

“There’s no time, LT, we have to go,” and it’s true but you’re nearly pleading. This isn’t a retreat this is an escape. It’s all wrong wrong wrong.

But you dig your heels in and tug sharply when he shifts as if to lunge at the KorTac operator - now watching you both with head tilted, flat eyes calculating.

“Ghost,” you practically whine, “come on.”

He shakes his head as if to dispel the suspicious cloud of anger overtaking his thoughts and follows you out.

The KorTac operator stands right where he was left, plucking the knife from his shoulder to stare contemplatively at the blood dripping from it. Shame you didn’t take it with you, a souvenir to remember him by. Well, there’s always next time.

[spideyson-stuff]

HeadCannon of Peter being a sick child

Not in the sense of "Peter is sick and Tony has to take care of him", NO!

It's the kind of "I've had migraines for so long I don't even care about the pain anymore" or "I get colds so many times in the week that I don't know how is the feeling of DON'T HAVE a runny nose"

So Tony go ask him one day like

Tony: Pete, your nose is bleeding!? ARE YOU OKAY!?

And Peter takes a set of wet wipes from his bag calmly wiping his nose saying

Peter: Oh yeah, it happens sometimes, so about the design of the new Falcon wings...

AND HE DON'T SAY ANYTHING ELSE AFTER!?

Tony is already pulling his hair out wondering why Peter suddenly passes out sometimes and Peter goes like

Peter: Oh yeah, about that, I have anemia and low blood pressure, sometimes my blood sugar drops and my blood pressure drops and then I passes out, nothing to worry about 😊

Tony's heart almost stops and he's already like "god I need to put this kid in a bubble to protect him..."

One day Tony turns to Peter and asks if he wants something to eat or drink and Peter says

Peter: Ohhhhh, THAT'S why my vision is blurry the whole afternoon, hahaha

Tony:... uh?

Peter: I forgot to eat

Tony: WHAT!? IT'S 12:45 PM!? YOU HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING ALL DAY!?

Peter: Yep, ops haha, I'm gonna drink a glass of water

Tony: THIS IS NOT EVEN NEARLY ENOUGH!?!?!? I'M ORDERING 3 PIZZAS AND YOU'RE EATING THEM!!!!

Peter: But I'm not hungry...

Tony: !?!?!?!? HOW!?

Since then, Tony forces Peter to eat something every time they meet, Peter thinks this is excessive, Tony thinks that if he doesn't do this Peter will die-

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

taglist

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lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[megalony]

You're Okay

This is a new, rather angsty Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a request I got quite a while ago.

I can't seem to find the request in my inbox yet so to the anon who asked for this, I hope you like it and I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) doesn't feel well, Eddie assesses her before he goes to work and she seems okay. But then she collapses, and the kids have to call 911 for help. And Eddie rushes back home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie leaned his shoulders back against the wall so he could wriggle his feet into his boots and grab his rucksack. It felt strange getting ready to leave for work without lining the kids up and getting ready to drop them off at school on his route. But then again, Eddie didn't always work weekends, at least not in the morning shifts, he did the late evening shifts and nights on the weekends if possible, so he could be home with (Y/n) and the kids.

He checked his back pockets, feeling around for his phone and his wallet but just as he hooked his keys onto his thumb, he paused.

He spun on his heels, turning away from the door when Chris's voice called out to him.

"Dad!"

"What's up bud? I'm on my way out." His voice was soft but the smile on his face started to fade when he saw the uneasy expression on the twelve year old's face.

Chris was a morning person, he was always up early along with Eddie whereas the girls were still in bed, they hated getting up in a morning. Eddie had said goodbye to Chris about ten minutes ago and he peeked into the girl's room and kissed them both goodbye, even though they were groggy and still half asleep.

His eyes followed Chris as he trotted down the hall, still in his pyjamas but looking wife awake. He was clinging to the wooden rail Eddie had drilled to the wall to make it easier for Chris to move about the house without his crutches all the time.

"Mum's not well, she's in the bathroom." Chris tilted his head to the left, looking up at the ceiling for a moment while he pointed behind him towards the bathroom.

It was his routine to brush his teeth and wash his face before he got dressed but before Chris could even get in the bathroom, his mum beat him to it and practically fell in there. And she didn't look well; Chris didn't know if his dad knew she wasn't well so he thought it best to say something before Eddie headed to work.

He watched his dad's upper lip curl in panic and his rucksack dropped to the floor beside him.

"Oh Dios, okay." Eddie muttered quietly under his breath, scraping his boots against the laminate floor as he dashed from the door towards the hallway. When he reached Chris, he patted his shoulder and turned him in the direction of his room.

"Go back to your room for a bit, I'll make sure she's okay." He kissed Chris's head to shush his distaste at changing his routine before Eddie moved over to the bathroom.

Eddie's lips rolled together and he grimaced when he opened the bathroom door and peered inside. He found his wife sat on the floor, one arm draped over the toilet and her other arm curled around her middle. She had her cheek resting on her arm and she looked drowsy, but Eddie couldn't determine whether she had been sick or not.

"Mi amor, talk to me, what's wrong?" He crouched down beside her, arching his knees out so he was curved around her with her between his thighs.

He was careful when he helped ease (Y/n) up into a sitting position and he smiled when her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She looked one minute away from starting to cry and it made Eddie's heart lurch up into his throat.

He pressed his palm against her temple but she wasn't sweating or flushed and when he leaned over the toilet, he noticed she hadn't been sick; at least not yet.

(Y/n) didn't like Eddie seeing her like this, especially not when she was now going to make him late for work.

She could feel Eddie's lips pressing against her temple and his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms. He hummed against her skin which made her shiver and when Eddie pulled her back and let her flop against his chest, she tried to smile and look up at him. They both knew her smile did nothing to calm him down, he raised his brow as if asking if that was all she could manage.

"I- I thought I was gonna be sick… my stomach hurts." (Y/n) grimaced and closed her eyes for a moment as she pressed her face into the crook of Eddie's neck.

She didn't want to make him late for work, but she couldn't help but lean into him and relish in his touch.

Her stomach was aching and throbbing and for a brief moment she felt like she was about to be sick. But when she got into the bathroom, she realised her stomach wasn't churning with sickness, it was a throbbing pain more than an unsettling feeling.

"Okay, well you're not burning up," Eddie tilted her head back so he could look down at her. His thumb brushed across the side of her face and he gently lifted her eyelid to check her pupils before he felt her pulse.

Her eyes were constricting to the light and her pulse felt strong and steady which were all good signs.

"Come on, back to bed."

She found the strength to loop her arms around Eddie's neck and he took the hint, grabbing her hips to pull her up to unsteady feet.

Something whined at the back of her throat and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck, bringing her hand up to brush his jaw while he kissed the top of her head and slowly guided her out of the bathroom. She let him turn her around so his chest was glued up against her back and his hands stayed firm on her hips as he started walking her back towards the bedroom.

The girls wouldn't be up for a while yet and once Chris got dressed, he would either make himself breakfast or come into their room to sit with (Y/n) for a while. She could sit down in bed and rest for a bit longer before she needed to be up with the kids.

Once they were back in the bedroom, Eddie helped her sit down on the side of the bed and he moved to stand between her legs. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head up in his direction so he could look down at her. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and his wet lips smoothed against her temple.

When he felt her whimper, he gently let go and moved to crouch down between her thighs. His elbows rested on top of her legs and his head angled to the side, silently waiting for her to tell or show him where the discomfort was.

(Y/n) pressed her palm to the middle of her stomach before she moved both hands to rest on the bed to keep herself sitting upright because right now, she felt like flopping back on the bed and passing out.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip and she tilted her head back when Eddie carefully started pressing his fingertips and then the heel of his hand against her stomach. The middle of her abdomen just beneath her sternum seemed tender, but he couldn't feel any lumps or swelling or warm, squishy patches.

He definitely didn't feel any hernias which was a relief, and there wasn't any tenderness to imply any internal bleeding, not that there should be. (Y/n) hadn't done anything strenuous to cause something like that.

"I can't feel anything worrying, baby. How bads the pain?"

(Y/n) knew what that meant. She knew Eddie was asking because if it was bad, he would call Bobby and take her to the doctor. She didn't want him missing his shift and messing the rota and the team around for her.

"Just tender, it's not bad." The truth was in her eyes, she wasn't crippled down with agony and she could get up and move about just fine, it simply felt uncomfortable.

"Either a pulled muscle or possibly an infection. Want me to stay home?" Eddie leaned forward to press his lips to her stomach and he moved his hands to her hips and gave a gentle squeeze.

If she wanted him to, if she only asked, Eddie would stay home with her and the kids. That wasn't an issue.

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she creased forward to take Eddie's face in her hands and reel him up until she could kiss him. His lips were warm and soft and she could taste the morning coffee on his tongue that swiped across her lower lip, begging for entrance.

"No, go to work babe. I'll be fine." There was no way (Y/n) was having Eddie stay home when he didn't need to.

He'd done enough of that when she had been pregnant with James and she hadn't been well. (Y/n) didn't want Eddie taking anymore time off unless the kids were ill or something was seriously wrong with (Y/n). It didn't matter how understanding the team was or how often Bobby said family came first, (Y/n) wouldn't be a distraction.

If there was no need for either of them to worry then Eddie could go to work.

"Message me later then, so I know you're okay."

He was being deadly serious and they both knew it, if (Y/n) couldn't message him or answer the phone and let him know she was alright he would panic and end up stopping by on a call to make sure she was okay. He didn't want to leave her like this but it was far too little notice to call off his shift, especially when he couldn't find a dire problem and (Y/n) wasn't crippled in agony.

She looked run down and in discomfort, but nothing too serious and that was the main thing that was calming Eddie down at the moment.

"Will do." She pressed another kiss to his lips before she glanced behind her to check the cot attached to the side of the bed. James was still asleep. The three month old would be due another bottle soon, so there wasn't much point in (Y/n) lying down or trying to get comfy, she may as well get up now. And she knew Chris was up and ready, the girls would be up within the next hour.

"Good, I wanna know you're okay."

***

"Can we go to the park?"

Leaning forward, (Y/n) arched her lower back out and closed her eyes, trying her best to take deep breaths to see if it would do her any good, but it didn't seem to be helping.

It wasn't just her stomach that was clenching and aching, it was her back that was starting to act up too now.

"Not today, baby." (Y/n) cracked her eyes open just enough to look down at the seven year old huddled into her side. She saw the frown that appeared on Louise's face and the little girl huffed, but she didn't try and retaliate. She could see (Y/n) wasn't feeling her best and without Eddie here, no one else could take them to the park if (Y/n) said no.

"Can we paint?"

"We've got puzzles out, come on."

She tossed the empty bottle into the sink and turned around with her youngest cradled against her shoulder. She began patting her hand up and down James's back to wind him while she slowly headed through from the kitchen towards the living room.

Chris and Libby had the puzzle boards out. With Chris's coordination he got very fed up with proper puzzles and trying to connect the tiny pieces together, but he loved the wooden puzzle boards. Where he only had to slot ten to twenty large pieces into place on the board to form a picture. And Libby was only three, so she did the block puzzles were there were wooden cut outs that had to fit back into the correct shape on the board.

It was easier for them both and kept them occupied, and Louise could join in or get a proper puzzle out to entertain herself.

When they headed into the living room, (Y/n) slowly went down on her knees so she could ease James into the rocker in the corner of the room. He would settle for another nap now he'd had his bottle and (Y/n) was more than relieved to be able to sit down.

The kids had all had dinner, which Chris had happily helped (Y/n) to make because he could see she wasn't feeling great. And now, if Louise joined in, they could be entertained and busy for the afternoon and (Y/n) could sit down and try to feel better.

The painkillers she took earlier didn't seem to be making much of a difference, it felt like some kind of pulled muscle rather than an infection like Eddie suggested this morning.

"Mummy," Libby spun round from where she was sat on the rug in front of the coffee table and reached out for (Y/n).

She scrambled up onto the sofa and cosied up into (Y/n)'s side, seemingly oblivious to the way her mum sat forward on the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She let Libby cuddle up against her and wriggle her head onto (Y/n)'s lap; she clearly wanted a power nap.

"You okay?" Chris leaned his head back on (Y/n)'s knee and stared up at her with worry lines etched into his features.

Usually when she wasn't well, Eddie would either already be here or he would come home to check on her and look after her. Chris knew that if Eddie wasn't here and because he was the eldest, it was down to him to look after (Y/n) this time.

He felt her lean forward to kiss his temple and he grinned softly when she hummed. "I'm okay,"

She ruffled Chris's curls and kissed his cheek before she slowly slouched back into the sofa. She was relieved when Libby curled up on her lap instead of scrambling up to lay on her chest, (Y/n) might have cried if Libby pressed on her stomach when she was feeling like this.

She began carding her fingers through her daughter's hair and she closed her eyes, leaning her head to one side as she willed the uncomfortable feeling to dissipate. At least until Eddie came home. (Y/n) hated being ill when she was looking after the kids, it made her feel useless and she didn't like them seeing her when she wasn't well.

After a little while, she felt her mind start to fog over and she was sure she was about to fall asleep along with Libby. But the uncomfortableness increased to the point (Y/n) had to deadlock her arm around her waist.

Her features screwed up in sudden agony and her hands started to tremble as one stayed around her waist and the other moved to her chest.

Breathing was starting to become a struggle.

Oh dear. Maybe she needed to make a call to Eddie and ask his advice. Maybe she needed to tell him she wasn't doing so well this afternoon and might need him to come home. She promised to message him and let him know if she felt okay but so far, she hadn't done that.

She kept leaving it, reminding herself to message him in an hour, then another hour. (Y/n) wanted to tell him she felt better, that she and the kids were fine and she was back to herself, but every time she thought about messaging him, she didn't want to say that she felt worse.

Sitting forward, (Y/n) tried her best to take a deep breath but it didn't feel like she was able to. It felt like her chest was deflating more and more despite how many breaths she tried to take.

Her hands shook as she carefully eased Libby onto the sofa rather than keeping her laid on her lap.

The moment (Y/n) was on her feet, the living room seemed to spin in large circles around her and she couldn't do anything when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her head flopped forward. Her body followed her head and she crumpled down to the floor in between the sofa and the armchair, causing both Chris and Louise to scream.

"Mum? Mum?!"

The puzzle piece dropped from Chris's hand and he scuffled to turn around and crawl over to (Y/n). He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest and each beat sounded like a boombox in his ears that were beginning to ring when (Y/n) didn't answer him.

He tried to shake her shoulder before he moved to run his hand up and down her chest like he had seen their dad do when (Y/n) had fainted once, but she didn't respond.

"Mummy asleep?" Libby groggily lifted her head from the sofa and started to rub her eyes as the pacifier hung out the end of her mouth, about to fall on the floor. Why was their mum asleep on the floor? Was this a new game they were playing?

"Mummy?"

"Get mum's phone." Chris gave Louise a nudge and pointed towards the kitchen where he guessed it was because he hadn't seen it in here.

He muttered 'recovery position' to himself, guiding himself through what to do. He stretched both (Y/n)'s arms out in front of her and lifted her leg before he shakily pushed her onto her side so her back was now facing him. He wasn't sure whether she would be sick or not and he knew she had to be laid on her side in case she was.

Chris had been shown all sorts of useful tips and emergency procedures, he enjoyed learning them from Eddie. And when he did the first aid class in school, he had been the best in the class because he knew everything first hand from what Eddie had taught him.

Now it was coming in handy for all the wrong reasons.

Louise came running back into the living room and crashed to her knees beside Chris, holding out their mum's phone which had one of their newest family photos as the lock screen which was flashing at them from all the movement.

When Chris waved his hand to the side, Louise took the hint and shuffled to sit at the other end of the sofa so she was near Libby and right next to James. Their baby brother was starting to whimper so Louise started nudging the end of the rocking cradle he was in to try and soothe him.

Chris's eyes began to water when he looked at the lock screen photo that wouldn't disappear no matter how many times he dragged his thumb across the screen. It was locked.

All he could see was the picture of Eddie, sat on the floor with Chris between his legs who had James in his arms. And both girls stood behind Eddie with their arms around his neck and their faces tucked close to his.

Panic overtook his system until he could barely breathe and he leaned over (Y/n) and flapped around for her hand. He smudged her thumb against the bottom of the screen at least four times to try and unlock it, but it wasn't working either.

Then he saw it. The emergency call button lighting up the bottom left corner of the screen. He jabbed his finger onto the button and when a keypad flashed onto a pure white screen, Chris punched in the three numbers that were engraved onto his mind.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Mum needs help, she collapsed." His voice came out breathless and rasping and he couldn't stop darting his eyes from (Y/n) to his siblings.

She needed to wake up. Chris wasn't old enough to be in charge yet. He was only twelve, he didn't want to be the one to look after his sisters or his baby brother. He only supervised them while his parents were in the shower or when they were going out on a trip and he had to make sure the girls didn't wander off. But Chris always had someone around when he was helping look after his sisters.

He couldn't be the on in charge, he didn't want to. Not yet, and especially not under these circumstances.

"Okay, what's your name honey?" The lady on the other end of the line sounded caring, there was something sweet to her voice. Chris couldn't help but wish it had been Maddie who answered his call, he knew her. She was almost an aunt to him with how he and his sisters considered Buck as an uncle.

"Chris."

"Alright Chris, can you tell me your mum's name?"

"(Y/n) Diaz… she- she said she didn't feel well, but now she's passed out."

Chris felt the need to put the phone on his lap on loud speaker, but he suddenly decided against it. The girls would hear the lady if he did that. He didn't want to frighten them when Louise was already in tears and Libby was starting to whimper in confusion.

He pinned the phone tighter to his ear as if it would ensure that his sisters didn't hear a thing the operator said to him. And his other hand started to rub up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he shook her a little to see if it would rouse her. He wanted her to wake up so he could hand the phone to her and have her tell them what was wrong.

She had to wake up. (Y/n) had to be okay, she had to get up and feel better, she had to be okay.

"Is she breathing?"

The question made Chris grimace and he shivered as he slowly leaned over (Y/n)'s back until his chin was perched on her arm. He pulled the phone from his ear so he could listen to her chest and his beady eyes narrowed as he tried to see if her chest was rising and falling.

She wasn't breathing properly. Chris could see her breaths were light, it didn't look like her chest was moving properly in his humble opinion. And when he pressed his ear to her mouth and felt the way she breathed against him, it sounded gasping and slightly croaky.

"Not good. Can you get my dad? He's a fireman, his number is one-one-eight."

Their dad was at work. He was a medic, he would know exactly what to do in this situation. He would be able to help them. He would come home and look after (Y/n) and then look after the rest of them.

Eddie always made things better. They needed their dad.

"Dispatch to one-eighteen, do you have someone called Diaz in your firehouse?"

A cold slither of dread crawled down Eddie's spine and he sat up straighter in his seat like his back was made out of wood and he couldn't bend in any direction. His left hand curled around his thigh and his right hand moved to press the speaker closer to his mouth before pushing down on the headset so he could hear the operator's voice more clearer.

Why did they want to speak to him? Why did they need to know if he was here? The reason couldn't be good, Eddie knew that for certain.

"I'm Diaz, why?"

His voice came out a bit more stern than he intended and his tone was dark with an edge of grit to his words.

He could feel the rest of the team watching him with hot eyes and confusion plastered across their faces. They were in the truck, aiming back for the fire station since their last call was over. Was Eddie in trouble? Did they need to make a detour downtown and drop him off to talk to the chief?

Was there a call where someone was demanding to be treated or seen to by Eddie, personally? Who would do that? Had someone seem him before and become attached to him? Eddie remembered a woman about five months back who had been relentless in asking him out. She wouldn't let any of the others in the team treat her and she had even swung by the firehouse to see Eddie the next week.

She hadn't been too pleased when he flashed his wedding ring at her and told her he had a wife and four kids who he wasn't leaving for anything in the world. It couldn't be her, though. Eddie hadn't heard from her since that day, she stormed out of the firehouse and never seemed to look back.

"We've got a young boy called Chris on the line, his mum's collapsed and we need a unit to respond. He said his father was firefighter Diaz."

"No, oh no," Eddie's head dropped forward but everyone froze when his left hand curled into a fist and rammed into the window.

The force was enough to leave a crack right down the centre of the window towards the bottom left corner and when Buck glanced down, he noticed one of Eddie's knuckles had split open. Eddie hadn't noticed.

"Go! Drive!" His voice was guttural and harsh and both his hands moved to deadlock behind his head that tilted up towards the ceiling.

"Dispatch, we're responding to the scene now." Bobby's voice was the essence of calm and controlled, despite how he increased speed and took a sharp right turn that had them all swerving in the back of the truck. He had a horrible feeling that this wasn't going to go down very well.

Eddie knew he should have stayed home.

(Y/n) told him she didn't feel well, and he came to work anyway. He shouldn't have left her. He should have gone with his gut and stayed home to look after her and the kids. If he did he could have taken her to the hospital if she got any worse. In the very least, when she didn't message him he should have rung her to see if she was okay and if she needed him to come home.

But he hadn't found anything wrong. He assessed (Y/n) himself. She had no fever, she hadn't thrown up, she wasn't crippled down in agony. He didn't feel a hernia or an internal bleed or any swelling. She didn't flinch or gasp or writhe when he pressed on any tender spots and she didn't have a rash and she wasn't warm to the touch.

How could either of them justify Eddie staying home when (Y/n) had been relatively okay to carry on her day and she had no major warning signs or red flags of any kind?

Eddie's foot began to tap incessantly against the floor until his boot was almost making an indent in the metal flooring.

Before Bobby pulled up on the front or had time to cut the engine, Eddie tossed his headset on the seat next to him and flung off his belt. He swung the door open before the truck came to a stop and he jumped down onto the path and hurried to the right to grab one of the medic bags from the compartment.

It was a relief to see Hen had followed along behind them in the ambulance. Either she heard the conversation over the radio or she had seen Bobby turn on the lights and followed him to their next scene. It didn't matter either way.

He could see Chimney going towards Hen, both of them clearly presuming they would need the gurney while Bobby and Buck raced to keep up with Eddie.

He stormed down the path and stretched his right hand up to the wooden frame over the top of the door. He fumbled around until he felt the metal key beneath his fingers. They always kept a spare on the high ledge above the door, it felt safer than leaving one under the plant pot.

It took him five seconds to unlock the door and barge inside.

"Chris? Girls, what's going on?" His voice thundered down the hall along with the sound of his boots that echoed and had the foundations of the house shuddering in his wake.

"Dad! Dad, we're in here!"

"Daddy!"

Eddie didn't like what he was faced with when he ran into the living room. Both the girls were huddled together on the sofa, tears drenching their faces and sobs bubbling past their lips. James was screaming his tiny lungs off in the rocker in the corner.

And there was Chris, knelt down on the floor with his feet pressed up against the coffee table, and (Y/n) laid out in front of him. His son had managed to move (Y/n) into the recovery position and he was currently gliding his hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he sniffed, trying not to sob down the phone to the dispatch lady on the other end of the line.

Chris hung up once he'd told the lady that help- and his dad- had literally burst through the front door. He didn't need her anymore and more importantly, Chris didn't need to be in charge any longer. His dad was here.

When the girls bounded off the sofa and scuttled around the coffee table to get to him, Eddie hunkered down to be at their level. He wrapped them up in a brief but tight hug and pressed a kiss to each of their temples before he tried to nudge them to the side.

"Girls- girls go to uncle Buck." He gave them another nudge out the way before he looked behind him towards the team. "Can someone get the baby?"

Bobby rushed forward to grab James while Eddie knelt down behind Chris. His touch was careful and tender when he held his son's shoulders and kissed the back of his head. It was clear that Chris had done a good job, he had looked out for the girls and done his best to care for (Y/n) until help arrived.

"Chris go wait in the hall for me." He muttered against the back of his head and shifted his hands beneath Chris's arms to lift him up from his knees.

"But-"

"Chris you've looked after mum and I'm really proud, but you have to go now."

Tears streamed down Chris's face when Buck reached out and gently ushered him out of the living room. He didn't have to stay on guard and try to look after (Y/n) any longer. He had done his part and everyone was immensely proud of him for taking care of everyone and taking charge of the situation. But the team were here now, it was time for them to take over.

"Okay baby, you're okay, I've got you." Eddie murmured quietly under his breath as he carefully rolled (Y/n) from her left side so she was on her back.

He inched closer until his knees were pressed into her arm and his hands moved to her neck, tilting her head back so he could assess her.

He couldn't check her pupil response, her eyes were rolled to the top of her head. Her pulse was thready and weak and when Eddie pressed his thumb to her lips, he noticed her inner lips were discoloured.

"How we doing?" Hen knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side and opened the medic bag Eddie had dumped on the sofa.

"Not good." Eddie didn't tear his eyes away from (Y/n) while he dragged his hands down her chest. "She had stomach pains earlier, I checked her, she was fine." His voice was gruff and his lips curled in distaste as he tried to check her breathing.

He assessed her. He did everything right this morning, he checked (Y/n) properly just like he would with a patient on a call. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary or cause for concern. What had he missed? What signs did he miss this morning in his haste to get off to work? Was this his fault?

But when Eddie pressed his palm down on (Y/n)'s chest and moved his other hand to open her mouth, his heart seized up in his chest.

"She's not breathing!"

Eddie's fingers pressed beneath (Y/n)'s chin so he could tilt her head back and he pinched the bridge of her nose as he doubled forward. His stomach creased over his thighs while his lips attached to (Y/n)'s. He'd never given her mouth to mouth before.

Eddie never thought he would have to give mouth to mouth to his wife or anyone in his family.

If it were anyone else, Eddie would have grabbed the resuscitation mask from the kit to give mouth to mouth, but this wasn't just anyone. This was his wife. This was the woman Edie kissed at least fifty times a day. But Eddie dreaded the thought that the next time he kissed her, this memory would flash before his eyes.

He reeled up, taking laboured breaths while his fingers pressed to her neck. Her heart was still beating, at least he didn't have to do compressions, but her chest wasn't rising or falling yet, she still wasn't breathing on her own.

"Baby come on… amor breathe for me, please."

He leaned back down and attached his lips to her mouth, feeling like he was trying to consume her whole as he forced three breaths into her airways before he pulled back.

His eyes darted over to Hen when she took (Y/n)'s left hand and laid her arm across her lap. She made quick work of tapping (Y/n)'s elbow for a suitable vein and carefully pushed the needle into the crease of her arm. Eddie knew what it was. It was a dose of adrenaline. Her heartbeat wasn't in a steady rhythm and it was weak, they needed to keep her heart going and hope it would stimulate her lungs into working again.

Once the injection was given, Hen started up a cannula into (Y/n)'s left hand and set her on an IV with the fluids wide open into her system. She needed whatever fluids they could get into her to make sure her systems didn't start to collapse.

Swooping back down, Eddie closed his eyes and took the deepest breath possible until his lungs felt like they were going to collapse. He pinched (Y/n)'s nose again and smothered her lips, giving three more breaths while he silently begged for her to start breathing on her own. He didn't want to intubate. Eddie couldn't do that; that was how he lost Shannon.

But Eddie's head snapped to the left and his eyes widened when a noise caught his ears. Crying.

The girls were watching.

His eyes turned rabid and his lips parted into a snarl. Why were they stood in the doorway? Why wasn't someone stood with them and keeping them in the hallway? Eddie told the team to watch the kids, he didn't want them witnessing this.

The girls had just seen him give resuscitation breaths to (Y/n), they were young but they weren't naïve. They knew that meant their mum was gravely ill and this was something Eddie didn't want his children to witness.

"Someone get the girls out of here now!"

Eddie waved his left hand out in their direction while his other hand pressed down on (Y/n)'s chest to try and see if she was starting to breathe again or not. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out when (Y/n)'s lungs finally inflated and she took a strangled breath. The adrenaline was helping. She had to keep breathing; they had to get her system working back up to a better speed so she wouldn't have to be intubated in the hospital.

"Daddy-"

"Out!"

Louise took one step into the living room but her dad's guttural voice and the snap of his fingers made her jump back. He had never shouted at any of them before. He could raise his voice or change his tone with them and his facial expressions were usually enough to make all the kids listen to him.

But he never shouted like that.

A high-pitched wail left Libby's lips around the pacifier clenched between her teeth and she screamed when Buck swooped down and lifted her up. And Louise trembled when Buck took her hand and pulled her back into the hallway, gently whispering for her to follow him.

Sinking back on his heels, Eddie ran his hand through his hair while his other, trembling hand stayed on (Y/n)'s chest.

"They don't see (Y/n) like this." He muttered the words more to himself than to Hen or the rest of the team. He didn't want the kids to see their mum like this, it wasn't fair on them. Eddie knew they were all going to be scarred from this and he dreaded to think how it was going to impact on them all.

Now that she was breathing again, Eddie switched his attention down to (Y/n)'s abdomen. He reeled her shirt up towards her bra and began pressing his fingertips down in various places while he tried to think what her stomach had been like this morning.

No swelling. No squishy areas and no lumps or odd areas that would suggest a hernia or any other complication. And Eddie had never seen something like a hernia cause these kind of complications.

"She had stomach pain earlier, I- fuck, I assessed her but she was okay." His hand ran down his face as his jaw set tight as he looked back over at Hen. "Now her abdomen's flushed… and I can feel a lot of movement that could be a haemorrhage."

Her skin was very warm to the touch and unlike this morning, Eddie could feel a lot of squishy movement in her waist like he was pressing down on a water bed. Something had definitely ruptured because he would bet that it was a bleed that he was feeling in her stomach. This had happened while he had been out because he would have noticed this before he left for work this morning.

A frown pulled at Hen's lips and she looked down and turned (Y/n)'s hand over to check her palm and her fingertips.

"Skin's discoloured, bleeding, breathing problems…" Their eyes locked as Hen's words settled in Eddie's mind and a diagnosis dawned on both of them at the same time.

"Oh Dois, aortic aneurysm, it's probably burst." Eddie could scarcely breathe as he spoke.

That would make sense. The artery from the heart down to the stomach had had an aneurysm build up where the blood started to form a lump. That would explain the discomfort (Y/n) experienced this morning but why Eddie didn't find any symptoms or signs. And if it had burst, that meant all the blood was welling up in her stomach and not reaching the rest of her body.

"Chim bring in the gurney!"

"We have to move her, she needs an ultrasound and an OR." Eddie's hands shook as he slid his arms beneath (Y/n)'s frame and carefully lifted her from the floor. While Hen held her wrist and made sure the IV wasn't tangled and it didn't come loose from her hand.

Once she was laid on the gurney, Eddie grabbed the oxygen mask and strapped it over her mouth and nose and attached a monitor to her index finger.

"Eddie, Buck's gonna stay here with the kids and we'll take you to the hospital."

Bobby's words relieved something in Eddie's chest, but when his eyes locked on the kids as he moved the gurney into the hallway, his stomach clenched.

They were traumatised.

Chris was burrowed into Buck's leg, swaying back and forth in a stimming manner that showed he wasn't coping very well and Eddie could see his shoulders quaking as he cried. Louise was stood with Bobby, sobbing loudly and clinging to the Captain who was trying to settle the newborn in his arms. And Libby was cradled in Buck's arms, crying and whimpering into his neck.

He didn't want to leave them, but he didn't have any other choice. He could either stay here with the kids, or go down to the hospital with (Y/n). But he couldn't do both. He couldn't be in two places at once, and as much as the kids needed him, he had to follow (Y/n).

If something happened at the hospital, Eddie had to be there to speak to the doctors. He was her husband, her emergency contact, her next of kin, if they had to make a decision at the hospital it would be down to Eddie to make those choices.

He had to go with (Y/n) and make sure she was going to be alright, and then he would have to come back and console the kids.

And he had no idea how he was going to do either of those things.

[pomefioredove]

@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

[local-diavolo-anon]

i'm back!

ok so 2/3 days ago i found this youtube video where op turned Springtrap (or well, William Afton) into a fully build DnD character, and if i say so myself: things got out of hand fast

so here is my take on DnD Springtrap and specifically on that build (adding more infos under the cut for who is interested, i suggest to watch the video first)

starting with saying that unless you're playing in a scifi setting, this build is either not for you or to be modified, since in later levels spells are heavily centered around technomagic and electronic devices; personally when i will play him i will probably tinker around with the chosen spells and cantrips to make him less violently niche and/or more versatile

which kinda saddens me because it takes away not little of the characterization but, given most dnd stories take place in a medieval fantasy or high fantasy setting, a cantrip like On/Off or a spell like Remote Access are NOT particularly useful; so i will go for more psychic damage or necromancy oriented abilities, maybe i might take more than just 4 levels in artificier as well (especially given that again, all of those warlock spells at later levels are all technology oriented) but i need to see what those offer

however it is a kinda tank-y build given that with a shield on you can get up to a 27 of Ac, so even with low damage and not much hp you would not struggle too much to stay alive, and i like that!

as for the character himself, i put too much effort into my interpretation not to share it, so if anyone wants to play this guy as well, i fabricated a possible backstory that might come useful:

The character goes by the name "Dave Miller" (or whatever variant you want to use), and was originally a human artificier who created constructs for a living, mainly with the goal of offering aid to who needed it for whatever reason.

There however he ran into an issue, that being that a robot need a power source, and his own heart and lungs could not sustain a whole robot by themselves.

After losing part of his family to some kind of accident he became terrified of death, so with age he started replacing his own body parts with machinery to delay his last days (which made him a cyborg), until the point where he was very very close to become just a robot.

(This part may or may not involve a pact with a deity of death, this entirely depends on how you want to play him but it would make sense since the build is an artificier/warlock hybrid)

Through particular and very much not illegal experiments tied to necromancy he discovered that the life force of a living being could be shared, and used as a form of fuel. (possibly: age lived of the creature used= amount of extra months you get)

Here comes the second problem: this only worked with intelligent creatures, and more specifically, it worked best with creatures of your own race, which meant that he either went around murdering people or he found another solution. Non same-race creatures worked as well but not as good and there were not easy to find in the middle of a city and with a shop tied to your name.

And here is where and WHY he'd join a party of adventurers: after some time, his reserves or fuel were running VERY thin, and running into a group of adventurers was a god sent because by joining their party he essentially got a free pass to kill whoever he wanted, and reduce them to a dried raisin after sucking some life force out of them. Doing so you learn that the mowe powerful the creature is, the more energy it produces as well.

Your goal, that you as the player are following, when role-ing your character? essentially slay whatever powerful BBEG your Dm throws at you and suck all of that juicy fuel out of them, so that you can return to your little shop in the middle of the capital and return to create and sell whatever weird construct, doll, or robot comes to your mind for another few decades undisturbed.

And this is it. I think this might be a good backstory that could fit pretty much any setting you want to play this guy into, be it classic dnd or some scifi futuristic thing.

of course you don't NEED to use this one line per line, make up your own without looking back if you don't like it lol, dnd is the "make up shit and have fun" game after all!

Edit: also no his outfit makes no sense, i just went with vibes and decided a tanktop dress shirt, a twin tailed gilet and suspenders OVER said gilet was a good choice.

[byuntrash101]

realistic sex with seonghwa

seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man

(an aries ♈)

although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately

but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses

he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.

(did I say an aries?)

talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*

a ✨neat boi✨

he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts

I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck 

slkslskdlsdkdk

as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys

he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess

seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed. 

he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.

if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do

he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him. 

he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both

"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"

nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth

but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain

but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.

like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.

and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.

quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.

seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.  

he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.

and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done

it's only the beginning of the fun

there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.

all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.

he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)

he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up

he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.

then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.

there he will bend down to kiss you.

sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you

that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.

he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.

and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.

it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.

he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.

he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.

he loves to know he's the one that made you like this. 

hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still

also you remember when I said freaky?

he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.

with hwa it's not over until it's over

and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way

right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up

maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)

like I said a neat boi <33

who should i post next?

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung, with san | ateez masterlist | navigation

[daisies-daydreams]

OP Men When You Moan “Daddy” Into Their Ear and Run Away (Ft. Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader)

Warnings: Suggestive Content 🌶️

Monkey D. Luffy

Instantly freezes whatever he’s doing, his heart skipping a beat as his cheeks burn.

“What’d you say?” he asks as a playful smirk crosses his features.

Loves the sound of you laughing and squealing when he (literally) stretches his arms out to catch you.

Honestly, Luffy relishes when you squirm around still giggling…picturing you squirming in a much different way.

He bombards your face with wet kisses as he squeezes you tightly.

“Can’t get away from me that easily!” he chuckles.

Roronoa Zoro

Gives you a blank stare before suddenly pushing you against the wall.

“Wanna run that by me again, doll?” he husked as he kept his arms pinned on either side of your head.

Loves the way your throat bobs when you swallow as your cheeks heat up, embarrassment written all over your sweet face as he stares into your eyes.

“Think it’s funny to moan into my ear like that, huh? Fuckin’ tease,” Zoro calmly chastises before pressing his hips against yours.

Now you’re really in for it. 🫡

Sanji Vinsmoke

Sanji.exe has stopped working.

His eyes bulge out as his jaw goes slack. He only utters out a few sounds as he feels his cock instantly strain against his pants.

If you’ve already run away, he excuses whatever he’s doing to take care of his “little problem”. But if you’re still in his line of sight, he’ll quickly regain composure and stroll over to you, prepared to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“Pourqoui tu me taquines autant…mommy?” Sanji rumbles right into your ear [Why do you tease me so much…mommy?].

Let’s just say dinner was served a little later than usual that night.

Trafalgar Law

Similar to Zoro, he’ll give you a thousand yard stare. Unlike Zoro…Law will ignore you for the rest of the day.

He’ll smirk internally when you pout and do everything in your power to make him slip up.

Eventually he’ll yield when you wear a skimpy outfit and walk past him, making sure to graze your ass over his crotch.

He’ll throw you over his shoulder before carrying you to his quarters.

“Better use that name you called me earlier while I’m making you scream into the sheets, sweetheart,” he grunts before slapping your ass.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!

[b1rds3ye]

AAAA i loved that 141 + masked reader one!! omg you're filling my head with mask ideas now...

what if reader had one of those LED masks that showed different facial expressions? just walking around going ":D" ":]" "^-^" "?" ">:(" as a substitute of their real expressions. omfg imagine them coming back from a mission and price is praising them on their work or smth and they just hit him with the "uwu"

I'm glad so many people are liking the prompt, I had a lot of fun with it too!! This is very much giving me Watch Dogs 2 Wrench but also Rina Tennoji omg there are so many legendary masked characters-

The rest of the 141 were confused at first. While the mask provided anonymity, there was also the benefit of hiding facial information to an enemy. But now with these LEDs your emotions could be read like an open book, but ultimately they found it endearing.

Soap in particular loves your mask. Johnny loves surprising you to generate "!"s over the eyes and finds himself smiling every time your mask switches to a new emotion. As demolition expert, he prides himself over the one time he got you so riled up that an error message flashed across your mask. He's also genuinely curious about the mask and will gladly try to help if there are any technical difficulties or if you want a hardware upgrade. He's also the most unnerved out of the 141 if you ever turn the LEDs off, immediately by your side to comfort you as he can no longer read your mood.

Gaz doesn't often provoke you but he does find himself snickering whenever your expressions change from others. It's also an easy way for Kyle to keep track of how you're feeling, even when no one's around your mask automatically goes ";-;" when you're feeling down and he'll check up on you. Whenever he does make a joke though, he's immediately looking to your mask to see if someone will appreciate his humour. He also wishes you turned off your mask more during missions, the little angry face your mask makes isn't intimidating in the slightest and he can't risk getting distracted cooing over you during an op.

Ghost is very curious. Your own mask has him wondering if his own needs a bit of an upgrade - perhaps an LED skull mask with a moving lower jaw. Simon's heart warms up a bit at how you've picked a mask that's still so comically expressive, he enjoys interacting with someone that's so upfront with their emotions. He won't admit it but he finds it cute how your mask goes "-_-" whenever he says one of his horrendous "military humour" jokes. He's considerate of your mask and ensures that there is no water or liquids nearby.

Price's first concern was practicality (how the hell were you going to use night-vision?) but once the mask seems to work without a hitch, he now checks on your mask to not only gauge your mood but as a visual indicator of the overall atmosphere among the rest of the task force. You're now his favourite person to praise. He doesn't give it freely of course, but most of his subordinates will try to hide their smiles as they glow under his praise as they keep up their tough soldier persona. You though? The sudden "! o !" and then consequential "^_^" as you walk away with a hop in your step is probably the sweetest thing he's seen in his entire military career.

It's all fun and games until you turn off the LEDs - usually done in dark/covert missions or when you're interrogating the enemy. That's when you're truly unreadable, a masked terror. As you eliminate enemies in close combat the last thing they will see is their own face contorted into absolute terror as it is faintly reflected like a memory against the bottomless darkness of your visor.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist