#slimming world photo

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

OH, THE HORRORS YOU'LL SEE -- BOOKENDED BY VAMPIRES, NO LESS.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on Tumblr cover photo set #2 for the month of November, and one of my all-time favorites yet. Lotsa blood-sucking/blood-spilling action this time around. Featuring finds such as:

Morbius, the Living Vampire à la Todd McFarlanen

CRASS playing a gig in Wales, UK, c. 1981.

A film still of Rina Sawayama in "John Wick 4," c. 2023.

"V for Vendetta" artwork by David Lloyd, c. 1988.

A film still of impaled Ottomans from 1992's "Bram Stoker's Dracula," directed by Francis Ford Coppola.

John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and Eric Clapton, c. 1966.

A panel from the "Forever People" by Jack Kirby & Vince Colletta, c. 1971.

A Dracula-themed print advertisement for Slim Jim all-meat snacks, c. 1977, artwork by Jack Davis.

Sources: Flickr, Pinterest, View Comic Online, X (formerly known as Twitter), Crass (a history), Reddit, Bleeding Cool News, various, etc...

[faebled-stories]

Finding True Beauty

Kinkvember Day 4: Mirror Sex

Park Jihyo x Male reader

6.8k words

AN: I really adore this photo, It fits so well and she looks absolutely stunning

Jihyo had always felt the weight of expectations pressing down on her, unyielding and relentless. In Korea, beauty was revered to an almost mythic degree—a cultural ideal that demanded flawlessness, leaving little room for individuality. It wasn’t just about looking good; it was about embodying perfection, fitting neatly into a mold that felt impossible to achieve. Living in this reality, she spent her life feeling like an outsider, always just short of the ideal.

Billboards and magazine covers showcased faces with flawless skin, bodies that seemed more sculpted than human, impossibly slender and toned. She knew, logically, that many of those images were enhanced, that even those models weren’t perfect in real life. But logic didn’t ease the ache. The pressure she felt wasn’t only social; it was deeply internal, a voice that echoed with every glance in the mirror, whispering, “Not enough.”

Jihyo had done her best to fit the mold, adopting a skincare routine so meticulous it consumed her evenings, each cream and serum a silent plea to feel closer to the ideal. She followed strict diets, counting calories, always conscious of her figure. Even though her natural build was curvier than the thin bodies praised in magazines, she was constantly trying to slim down, to soften her edges, hoping one day she’d look in the mirror and feel like she belonged.

But no amount of dieting or creams could erase her natural curves, and her chest—fuller than most—often felt like a burden. She knew others saw her figure as attractive, yet she couldn’t shake the discomfort it brought her. Sometimes, she’d catch herself staring longingly at the clothes in store windows, delicate dresses and slim-fit tops that seemed to be designed for someone else. On other women, they looked effortless, perfect. On her, they stretched awkwardly, pulling tight across her chest in a way that made her feel out of place. No matter how she adjusted her posture or tried different sizes, those clothes never felt quite right.

And there were the comments. The lingering glances from strangers, the sly remarks from acquaintances, and especially the words from men who seemed to think her curves were an invitation. Compliments rarely felt complimentary; instead, they left her feeling exposed, as if her body were the only part of her that mattered.

In her most vulnerable moments, Jihyo found herself retreating, creating a barrier between herself and the world. She’d wear loose clothing, hiding her form beneath baggy sweaters and oversized coats, each piece carefully chosen to let her slip unnoticed into the background. The fabric became her shield, a buffer against curious glances and unspoken judgments. There were days she wished she could disappear completely, blend into the crowd without a single gaze finding her.

At home, she rarely ventured near mirrors, looking away from reflections that felt like harsh reminders of everything she felt was wrong, everything she couldn’t change. The mirror seemed to amplify her perceived flaws, highlighting the parts that felt too different from what she imagined beauty to be. Even a quick glimpse of her own face or body sparked a familiar pang—a longing to be smaller, softer, to have the delicate features she thought the world admired. Each time, she’d feel herself shrink inside, as though her very presence were too much, her reflection a sight unworthy of admiration.

Yet, beneath those pangs of self-doubt lay something else—a glimmer of yearning that refused to disappear. She wanted to see herself differently, to look in the mirror and find beauty staring back at her. Part of her longed to shed those layers, to one day strip away the loose clothing and stand openly, seeing herself as more than her insecurities. Still, that dream felt distant, like a hazy mirage on the edge of her vision, just out of reach.

This quiet, unspoken longing stayed with her, hovering in the back of her mind, whispering that there was more to be found beneath the layers she used to shield herself. It was as if a part of her knew that her reflection held a depth she had yet to discover—that beyond the clothes, beyond the guarded glances, lay a woman capable of seeing her own beauty, of embracing her own strength.

But for now, she pushed the thought aside, choosing the comfort of concealment. Yet even in these hidden moments, a faint desire lingered—a hope that one day she could look into her reflection unafraid, finding acceptance and maybe even beauty.

These insecurities shadowed her into intimate moments as well. She could never fully let go, fearing that any of her partners would silently compare her to an idealized version of beauty. The fear gnawed at her, holding her back from fully embracing her desires. In those moments, she couldn’t help feeling betrayed by her own body, as though it were keeping her from the experience others seemed to find so effortlessly.

One night, feeling restless and weary from her own thoughts, Jihyo found herself alone in her apartment, scrolling aimlessly through a website filled with romance and erotica novels. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for—maybe a distraction, maybe a world far removed from her own. She just needed to escape, to silence the internal dialogue that repeated on loop, reminding her of everything she thought she wasn’t.

A story caught her eye, a tale of a woman’s journey to self-confidence. Intrigued, she clicked on it, drawn to the description of a protagonist who found her beauty not in someone else’s gaze but in her own. It was an unfamiliar idea—finding worth, finding beauty, without needing validation from someone else. She read on, her curiosity sharpening.

As Jihyo delved into the story, she found herself captivated. The protagonist wasn’t flawless; she struggled with body image just as much as Jihyo did. Yet there was something extraordinary about the woman’s journey, the way she slowly reclaimed her confidence by seeing herself through new eyes. It wasn’t a partner who helped her—it was her own gaze, her own acceptance.

The most powerful scene lingered in Jihyo’s mind, describing how the woman used mirrors to confront her reflection, watching herself from every angle as she explored her body. There was no shame, only an unfiltered appreciation of her curves, her shape, the way her body moved. The protagonist allowed herself to see the beauty in what she’d always considered flaws, to find grace in the moments she’d once avoided. It was a complete reversal of everything Jihyo had felt, and the idea left her breathless.

She read the passage again and again, her heart racing as she tried to imagine doing the same. Could she really use mirrors to look at herself with that same gentle gaze, to confront her own insecurities and find beauty in her own body? Could she bring herself to face her reflection without feeling that familiar discomfort, without the weight of shame?

The thought was both terrifying and exciting. It would mean standing before herself, unclothed and vulnerable, allowing every curve, every flaw, to come into full view. But if the woman in the story could do it, maybe she could too. Maybe it wasn’t about changing anything but about shifting her perspective, seeing herself in a light that allowed room for acceptance and even love.

That night, as she lay in bed, Jihyo couldn’t stop thinking about the mirrors. She could almost picture herself standing in front of them, the soft light catching the lines of her figure, casting shadows that highlighted her natural curves. The idea made her pulse quicken, a rush of anticipation mingling with her nerves. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, that it might be painful at first to face herself so honestly. But the thought lingered, insistent, tugging at something deep within her that longed for release from the weight of constant comparison.

In that moment, she made a promise to herself: one day, she would stand in front of a mirror and see herself as something beautiful. Not because she was flawless, but because she was real. Because she was enough.

Jihyo closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, her heart felt lighter. She didn’t know how long it would take, but she felt a spark of hope—a small, precious ember that maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see herself through kinder eyes.

The thought lingered with her long after she set the book aside. It wasn’t just the story that captivated her but the idea of seeing herself fully, without judgment, without filters. What would it be like to stand in front of a mirror and not automatically focus on flaws or imperfections, but on the beauty in each line and curve? Her mind swirled with the possibilities, turning over an idea that felt equal parts thrilling and terrifying. For once, her fantasies didn’t involve someone else—they revolved around her, a vision of discovering her own body and beauty on her terms.

That night, a strange mix of curiosity and nervousness pulsing within her, Jihyo decided to try it. Pulling a small mirror from her drawer, she set it by her bedside, feeling a bit self-conscious. The mirror was small, only able to capture fragments of her, but that seemed fitting—a tentative first step. Slowly, she undressed, her heart racing as she slid beneath the sheets, both eager and hesitant. Her eyes flitted between the mirror and her body, unsure of what she’d see or feel, unsure if this would unlock something within her or merely deepen her insecurities.

As she lay back, the coolness of the sheets sharp against her skin, her hands moved tentatively, her fingertips grazing her collarbone, her curves, the softness of her thighs. A gentle shiver ran through her, and her eyes fixed on the mirror, seeing only pieces of herself—the arch of her neck, the swell of her chest, a hand tracing the curve of her hip. The mirror reflected these moments, capturing a quiet intimacy that she wasn’t accustomed to sharing, even with herself.

The sensation was undeniably alluring, her breathing quickening as her hands moved more freely, each touch intensifying the connection between her mind and body. But as her pleasure built, she found herself distracted. The small mirror offered only glimpses, incomplete flashes that couldn’t fully capture the experience. Even as waves of pleasure washed over her, a deeper yearning remained—the desire to see herself completely, to confront every insecurity, every aspect she had avoided for so long.

The realization struck her hard: she needed to see all of herself, every angle, every detail, without hiding. The mirror had given her a taste, but it wasn’t enough. She yearned for a space where she could truly explore, where her reflection could reveal her without judgment.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced—a flash of an ad she’d seen a few weeks earlier while online shopping. It had been one of those pop-ups, something she’d quickly close or scroll past, but now the words came back clearly. It was for a place called The Pleasure Paradise Hotel. Her pulse quickened as she hurriedly pulled out her phone and found the hotel’s website. The tagline read, “Where every fantasy blooms in paradise.” She chuckled at the phrasing but clicked on the “Fantasies” tab.

And there it was, nestled among the long lists of fantasies: the Mirror Rooms. The description made her breath catch, detailing spaces crafted for self-exploration, adorned with mirrors that reflected every part of her from every angle, allowing for a judgment-free discovery of self. This was precisely what she had been craving—a sanctuary where she could be alone with her reflection, liberated from the societal expectations that weighed so heavily on her.

Her hand hovered for only a moment before she clicked the “Book Now” button, her nerves quickly overtaken by a rush of excitement as she filled in her information. After a moment, a confirmation screen appeared, thanking her for choosing the Pleasure Paradise Hotel.

The day of her booking arrived faster than she’d anticipated. Entering the luxurious lobby, Jihyo felt a blend of anticipation and nerves. The hotel exuded a quiet elegance, with soft lighting, subtle hints of jasmine, and decor that made the space feel intimate and indulgent. Her heart raced as she approached the front desk, where a poised woman greeted her with a warm, professional smile.

“Good evening. Welcome to the Pleasure Paradise Hotel. How may I assist you today?” the receptionist asked, her tone calm and reassuring.

Jihyo hesitated briefly, lowering her voice. “Hi, I… I’ve booked a stay in one of the Mirror Rooms,” she said, glancing around to ensure no one else could hear.

The receptionist’s smile deepened knowingly. “Ah, the Mirror Rooms,” she said, her voice laced with understanding. “A popular choice for guests looking to explore and connect with themselves more intimately. We offer a few packages, each designed to provide a unique experience.”

Jihyo’s hands fidgeted slightly, the receptionist’s gentle confidence helping to ease her tension as she listened.

“Our first option is a private experience,” the receptionist continued, gesturing toward a sleek tablet on the counter. “In this package, you’ll have the room entirely to yourself, with mirrors arranged to let you see yourself from every possible angle, creating a safe space to explore your desires alone. It’s very popular for first-time guests.”

Jihyo nodded, intrigued, but a faint restlessness lingered—something told her she needed more than just the mirrors. She wanted something deeper, though she wasn’t yet certain what that might be.

“Our second option,” the receptionist went on, “is similar to the first, but you may bring up to five partners to accompany you, giving you the chance to share your experience with others, if that’s something you’d like.”

Jihyo nodded again, appreciating the variety but feeling a stronger pull toward exploring alone, without an audience. The thought of including others felt premature. She wanted the experience to feel wholly her own.

“And finally,” the receptionist said, her smile widening ever so slightly, “we offer a guided experience. Here, you’re joined by a professional guide who assists in your exploration, offering support, guidance, and whatever level of interaction you’re comfortable with.”

“A guide?” Jihyo’s voice was a soft whisper, barely audible.

“Yes,” the receptionist confirmed, turning the tablet toward her. “Should you choose the guided experience, you can select from a gallery of experienced guides, each highly trained to ensure that your experience is everything you desire. Whether you’re seeking gentle encouragement or someone to help you delve deeper, there’s a guide to match your preference.”

She tapped the screen, bringing up the gallery of guides. The display featured a diverse array of men and women, each with their own unique energy. Some wore inviting, gentle smiles, while others gazed intently at the camera with a more intense, brooding expression. Each image seemed to convey a distinct presence, as if each guide held a different key to unlocking the experience.

Jihyo’s gaze lingered as she took in the faces on the screen. Some were soft and nurturing, others exuding strength and confidence, each inviting her into a different possible experience. She felt the tension between choosing solitude and allowing someone else to witness her vulnerability, to help her confront her insecurities in a way that felt both terrifying and thrilling.

Then, her eyes fell on one photo—a man with an aura of quiet confidence that stood out from the rest. He wasn’t overly posed; he looked relaxed, a calm strength in his features softened by a warm, genuine smile. Something about the ease in his posture and the spark of curiosity in his eyes made her heart skip. He looked approachable yet held an unmistakable air of control, someone who could help her feel both seen and safe.

Underneath the photo, your name appeared.

A quiet thrill shot through her as she clicked to read his profile, each detail deepening her intrigue.

“He seems…” Jihyo began, her voice trailing as her gaze lingered on the photo of the man she’d chosen.

The receptionist smiled knowingly, sensing her indecision melt into interest. “He’s one of our most popular guides,” she explained warmly. “He has a gift for making guests feel at ease. Intuitive, patient, and incredibly thoughtful, adapting to whatever you need—whether it’s gentle guidance or firm direction. He’s here to help you explore at your own pace.”

Jihyo swallowed, feeling a new spark of excitement flare in her chest. A sense of reassurance steadied her as she nodded. “I think… I’d like him,” she replied, her voice soft but resolute.

“An excellent choice,” the receptionist confirmed, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “your guide will meet you directly in your room. If you wish to adjust the experience or set any new boundaries, just let him know. His sole focus is on your comfort and fulfillment.”

Jihyo nodded, feeling both reassured and anticipatory. The idea of having a guide through this exploration—someone attuned to her desires and limitations—was thrilling yet calming. Somehow, it felt right.

“I’ll take care of everything else. You can head up to your room whenever you’re ready,” the receptionist said, handing her a sleek key card and a small, discreet goodie bag. Inside, she found tiny bottles of lube and a couple of condoms. “And remember, this is your experience. You’re in control of how it unfolds. If you need anything replenished, just call the front desk.”

As she headed toward the elevator, her heart raced. Her decision was clear now; she was ready to step into this unknown space of self-discovery.

The room was exactly as advertised, but the reality of it was more powerful than she’d imagined. Four mirrors framed the bed, each offering a unique angle. But it was the ceiling mirror that drew her attention, catching her off guard. A surge of vulnerability washed over her, seeing herself reflected from so many sides, so exposed and open. Yet with that vulnerability came an undeniable power—a sensation of strength in being fully seen, even if only by herself. She let herself take in the room slowly, breathing in the potential it held, the beauty of the setup that invited her to confront herself completely.

“Hello, Ms. Jihyo. I’ll be your guide this evening,” you say, your tone friendly, though your gaze holds a depth, a quiet intrigue that mirrors her own emotions. Her cheeks flush as the experience becomes tangible, their connection palpable.

With calm confidence, you enter the room, carefully closing the door behind. “Have you done something like this before?” you ask, your voice gentle and curious, free of any judgment.

Jihyo shakes her head, her own voice barely a whisper. “Just Jihyo is fine… and no. I’ve thought about it, but… I haven’t gone this far.”

A soft smile crosses your lips. “Curiosity is a wonderful place to begin.” Moving with unhurried grace, you gesture toward the mirrors surrounding her. “This space is yours to explore, to experience however you choose. There’s no rush, no expectations. I’m here solely to support you.”

The warmth in your voice deepens the intimacy of the moment, your presence both soothing and emboldening. As you move around the room, adjusting the lighting and taking subtle cues from her, Jihyo feels ease settle over her, tension gradually dissipating. The mirrors no longer feel like mere reflections; they become invitations—portals into her own depth, her own truth.

Taking a steadying breath, Jihyo reaches for the edge of her clothing. She hesitates, fingers hovering as she catches her reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she begins to undress, her movements almost tentative, as if each piece removed exposes more than just skin. Her gaze remains fixed on the mirror, her eyes tracing the curves and lines of her body with a mixture of scrutiny and reluctance. There’s an involuntary judgment in her stare, her expression tinged with dissatisfaction as she examines each perceived flaw with a familiar, critical eye.

As she glances at the reflection beside her, she notices you undressing in the background, your movements natural and unguarded. Your frame, by contrast, seems to fit easily within the accepted ideals she’s grown accustomed to seeing, adding a new layer to her own self-consciousness. A quiet comparison arises, unbidden, and she finds herself thinking how effortlessly you seem to belong in your own skin. Her shoulders stiffen slightly, insecurities whispering reminders of all the ways she feels she doesn’t measure up, each perceived flaw amplified as she stands there exposed.

She shifts slightly, as if hoping another angle might soften the imperfections she’s focused on. Yet, she allows herself to remain fully bare, lingering in the vulnerability despite the discomfort that rises within her. She feels the weight of her own self-consciousness, and though the impulse to cover herself hovers, she resists it, reminding herself that here, in this space, she doesn’t have to hide.

Still, the unease doesn’t quite fade. Her eyes remain cautious, holding onto traces of the self-doubt she can’t seem to shake. The familiar instinct to take control tugs at her, but there is another part—hidden, quieter, and long-buried—that yearns for release, to feel what it might be like to let go, to be seen as she is.

“Can you… take the lead?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, soft with uncertainty.

You meet her gaze with understanding, your expression gentle and reassuring. “Of course,” you reply, reaching out to touch her shoulder with a steadying presence. “Let me guide you. You’re safe here. Just relax and be exactly as you are.”

Her heart pounds as she nods, releasing her defenses for the first time in a long while. As you move behind her, hands tracing gently along her sides, Jihyo turns her attention to the mirrors. In their reflections, she sees herself in a new way—open, vulnerable, fully visible from every angle. A tremor of anticipation runs through her, magnified by the warmth of your touch, which sends ripples of sensation down her spine.

Each movement is deliberate, a steady rhythm allowing her to lose herself in the feeling. Your fingertips skim over her shoulders and down her arms, grounding her in the present, reconnecting her with her own body. She watches, captivated, as you guide her, your touch both tender and commanding, knowing exactly where to linger, allowing her to ease into herself.

Her breath quickens as you continue, each touch more intentional than the last. Glancing from one mirror to another, she sees her own body reflected from every angle. The ceiling mirror above captures her in the most vulnerable, raw view possible. Seeing herself like this makes her heart race, each angle revealing parts of herself she’d never fully embraced.

With every trace of your fingers across her skin, her breath hitches, anticipation building. The sound of her own shallow breaths, the sensation of your presence, and the reflections encircling her all merge into a heady, intoxicating mix. Every sigh, every subtle movement, mirrored back to her—a tangible reminder of her own beauty, her own strength.

The intimacy of the moment deepens, warmth spreading through her with each gentle touch, every lingering look at her reflection. You adjust her posture ever so slightly, positioning her to meet her own gaze from every angle. There is no hiding, no escape from the image of the woman staring back—her beauty raw, her presence powerful and real.

Each touch, each mirrored glimpse, becomes a quiet yet profound invitation for her to embrace herself fully, to revel in a beauty she’d often overlooked. The control she so often held onto now slips away, leaving only the freedom to feel, to see herself as she truly is. With you there, guiding her with a steady hand and calming presence, the weight of expectation and insecurity begins to dissolve, replaced by a deep sense of acceptance she has rarely felt.

The tension between you grows, thickening the air with anticipation. You slide your body onto the bed, beckoning her to sit Infront of you, Jihyo slowly gets on the soft sheets and leans her back on your chest.

Your hands move with practiced precision, each touch making her skin feel like it’s coming alive beneath you. Starting at her hips, your fingers brush lightly along her thighs, stirring a subtle ache that resonates deep within. You trace upward, skimming the sensitive inner thigh, your fingers moving closer to her center but stopping just short, building her anticipation with every teasing pass.

Your fingers drift to the edge of her folds, each movement languid and measured—never quite giving her what she wants, but keeping her hanging on each touch. You press the pad of your thumb over her clit in a slow, circular motion, firm enough to draw her hips forward, her body instinctively urging you to go further. But you don’t rush; your touch expertly coaxes her reactions, guiding her to match your rhythm. The gentle circles over her clit send waves of pleasure through her, a steady pulse that grows with each pass of your hand.

Her breath quickens, her fingers curling as she sinks into the pleasure you weave around her, the tension winding tight within her as you keep her on edge. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror again, your gaze holding a subtle command, urging her to comply. “Look at yourself,” you murmur, with a tone low and warm. “See how beautiful you are.”

As she gazes into the mirror, her reflection captivates her. Her cheeks are flushed, a deep rosy hue that contrasts beautifully with her soft skin, her breath quickening as she watches the way her body responds to your every touch. There is an aura of pure bliss surrounding her, a glow that highlights the ecstatic expression on her face. The way her chest rises and falls, the subtle arch of her back, all blend into a portrait of surrender that sends a thrill through her. It’s a sight that makes her pulse race, the beauty of the moment wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

With practiced patience, one hand travels up her side, pausing just below her chest. You meet her gaze in the reflection again, fingers ghosting over her skin. “May I?” you ask, your breath warm against her neck. A shiver runs through her, and she replies, breathless and quick, “Yes,” her voice trembling with eagerness.

With her permission, your hand slips over her breast, your touch firm yet gentle, sending sparks across her skin. The other hand remains at her core, circling slowly, pressing just enough to make her hips tilt toward you. Your mouth traces a line along her neck, your breath hot just behind her ear, unraveling her composure further. Her breaths grow faster, soft and uneven, each exhale mingling with the quiet hum of the room, enclosing you both in your own world.

Your hands work in tandem, the deliberate squeeze and tug on her breast blending with the rhythmic pressure below. Her mind grows hazy with need as you hold her close, every movement perfectly timed to her building tension. Her fingers tangle in the fabric beneath her, grounding herself as she climbs higher, each sensation building on the last.

Finally, with the combination of your hand possessively gripping her chest, the other pressing into her core, and your lips igniting her neck, her climax surges. It begins as a slow, shivering wave, rising from her center and spreading outward, consuming her in pulses that leave her breathless. Her back arches, pressing into you as the tension within her snaps, transforming into a raw, rolling pleasure that seems to echo through every inch of her body.

Her gaze stays locked on the reflection, and as she watches herself surrender, it amplifies everything—the sight of her flushed cheeks, the quiver of her parted lips, the rise and fall of her chest. The intensity of watching her own body unfold in pleasure makes her climax feel endless, a powerful rush that pulls her deeper with each second. Her hips buck in need, her fingers clutching at the fabric beneath her, grounding herself as she rides each wave. She can’t look away; the vulnerability and beauty of her reflection hold her captive, amplifying the sensation, making her feel as if she’s both inside her body and observing herself from a distance, awash in her own surrender.

As her breathing steadies, she looks back at the mirrors, feeling a newfound determination stirring within. This experience was hers to claim. Meeting your gaze in the mirror, her expression shifts, her resolve clear. “I want to take the lead this time,” she whispers, her voice steady with newfound confidence.

A smile of admiration softens your expression, your eyes alight with encouragement. “Then take it,” you reply gently, leaning back to give her the space to step into her own power. “This is your room, Jihyo. It’s yours to explore.”

A pulse of excitement thrums through her as she positions herself over you, her legs framing your hips, her posture upright and commanding. Facing away, with her gaze fixed on the mirrors in front of her, she’s fully absorbed in the view—a woman confident, unashamed, with every angle of her form magnified in the glass surrounding her. For the first time, she feels the full thrill of being in control, the power in shaping her own pleasure. The image is intoxicating, each movement captured from all sides, revealing a beauty she’d rarely allowed herself to see.

With a shared, silent understanding, she lifts herself slightly, giving you the space to reach for protection. You slip on a condom as she steadies herself, her breath quickening with anticipation. She then takes you in her hand, guiding herself, and slowly lowering her hips, placing your length inside. A shallow gasp escapes her lips as her eyes remain on the mirror while she moves, watching herself take control and savoring every second of the connection.

She begins to move, her hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm that sends shivers of sensation through her, intensifying with each shift and sway. Every part of her feels alive, attuned to the heat building between you, her body becoming the focal point, the center of her awareness. Each curve, every subtle arch of her back, every sway of her hips is captured in the mirrors that surround her. She feels more real, more tangible, than she ever has before.

Her movements grow more purposeful, a quiet confidence driving her, deepening with each slow, deliberate motion. Her breath quickens as she watches herself, captivated by the image in the mirrors—a vision bathed in warm, golden hues that soften her form while enhancing the allure in every line and curve. The room���s gentle lighting casts her skin in a rich glow, accentuating the lines of her body, the sweep of her shoulders, the strength in her arms. She sees herself with newfound respect, a fierce ownership over her form that feels both freeing and grounding. In each reflection, she doesn’t just see her body; she sees the strength she’s beginning to claim as her own. Yet in the end, it’s her eyes, focused and unwavering, that hold her attention the most, her gaze fierce, filled with intent.

A soft groan escapes from you beneath her, your hands resting lightly on her hips, grounding her yet allowing her the freedom to move. She feels your admiration, senses it in the subtle tension of your grip, in the way your gaze never leaves her. You look at her with awe, but she realizes the most powerful gaze in the room is her own.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Jihyo,” you murmur, your voice warm with admiration. “Look at you—so strong, so beautiful.”

A soft flush blooms on her cheeks, but your words only heighten her awareness of herself, fueling the desire pulsing steadily within. She can feel it now—the raw beauty of her control, the unfiltered confidence that has blossomed from the moment she took the lead. The mirrors don’t just reflect her body; they show her strength, her self-assuredness, qualities she has only begun to embrace. Each roll of her hips, every deliberate shift, feels like an assertion of her power, each soft gasp a quiet acknowledgment of her own beauty.

Her rhythm intensifies, movements growing faster as her body responds eagerly, the tension building low and insistent in her belly. Fingers gripping your legs for balance, she leans into the sensation, chasing the release that feels tantalizingly close, riding the wave of pleasure that surges through her with every motion. She can feel it all—the heat, the friction, all blending into a heady mix that sweeps her closer to the edge.

Lost in the rhythm, her head tilts back, and her gaze catches the ceiling mirror. She had nearly forgotten it, too absorbed by the other reflections, but now, seeing herself from above—a fresh angle highlighting the curves of her breasts, the strength in her posture, every movement purposeful and commanding—sends a shockwave of pleasure through her. The image is almost overwhelming. She looks powerful, entirely in control, moving with an instinctive grace as she rises toward her climax.

The sight is intoxicating, and in that moment, her breath catches, her body tensing as the release finally surges forward, consuming her. “Oh—yes,” she gasps, her voice trembling as the waves of pleasure hit her with full force. “I'm gonna cum... Yes! I'm cumming!,” she screams, her words slipping out in between each pulse, each wave of bliss that crashes through her. Her muscles tighten, her voice rising as the sensations build, and she lets out a cry, unrestrained, raw. Her eyes stay locked on the mirror, watching as her face softens in pleasure, her body quivering, her back arching as she succumbs to the intensity.

The sensation deepens, amplifying as her reflection stares back, grounding her in the sheer power of her release. Her lips part as a moan escapes, her body trembling under the force of the climax, every inch of her alive with sensation. She feels herself unraveling, yet within that unraveling is a new, unity with herself, a reclaiming of every part of her. The image in the mirror transforms her, revealing a woman fully unbound, lost in the depth of her own ecstasy, her pleasure radiating outward in waves.

As the final tremors ebb, she falls backwards, her body softening, surrendering as she relaxes against you. Her heartbeat echoes through her chest, her breath slowing in soft gasps as she lets the experience settle around her. She lies still for a moment, savoring the fullness of what she has just felt, the echoes of pleasure still vibrating through her, lingering in her limbs, in the hum of her skin.

The mirror has revealed something far beyond beauty—it has shown her strength, her vulnerability, her raw, unfettered power. She has taken control, and in doing so, she sees herself with a clarity that transcends simple reflection. She isn’t just a body; she is a woman of immense power, a woman capable of holding her own beauty with reverence.

A soft smile tugs at her lips as she lets the last of her tension dissolve, her body still alive with the remnants of her climax. She feels incredible. In this quiet, profound moment, Jihyo knows that she has stepped into a new version of herself, one who can look at her reflection and see the full scope of her beauty and power, unfiltered, unafraid. And that realization, even as her breath slows and her heart softens, is a pleasure all its own.

A warm hand brushed softly against her back, grounding her in the present, and your voice came as a gentle whisper. “I hope you enjoyed your time here,” you said, your tone reverent.

She turned to you, her eyes warm and glistening with gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice carrying a quiet depth. “This experience… it’s shown me parts of myself I’d forgotten, parts I didn’t even know were there.” Then in a moment of realization a quick panic rushed upon her. "Wait you didn't get to finish"

Your hand brushed softly against hers, grounding her in the present, and your voice came as a gentle whisper. “This was always about you, not me. Its okay, truly” you said, your tone reverent.

You smiled, meeting her gaze with admiration. “There’s such a difference in you now,” you added, a note of pride in your voice. “From the Jihyo I met just a short while ago to the one standing here now… it’s like night and day, even without words. You’re radiant—glowing with a confidence that wasn’t there before.”

Her cheeks flushed with quiet pride, and a soft smile touched her lips as she let herself sink deeper into the warmth of the moment, her body still alive with the lingering sensations that rippled gently through her. She felt incredible, her very core awakened—a part of herself that had always been there, now freed and fully embraced. Confidence, steady and unshakeable, flowed through her, filling her with a sense of wholeness she’d never quite known before. This feeling, this assurance, was wholly hers.

-----

In the weeks that followed, Jihyo found herself returning to the Mirror Room again and again. Each visit became an opportunity to peel back another layer, to delve deeper into her own story, her own beauty, her own strength. Every time she stood before those mirrors, something new awaited her: another hidden facet, another part of herself coming into the light. She found herself lingering in her reflections longer, tracing the lines of her body, absorbing the softness and strength she was coming to know and love. Sometimes, she led the experience, moving with purpose; other times, she allowed herself to be guided, reveling in the sensation of surrender. You had become an intuitive presence, familiar with the subtleties of her preferences, attuned to her every movement without needing to ask. Each time, she left the room with a richer understanding of herself, a deeper acceptance of her own worth, resilience, and beauty.

The mirrors became her companions on this journey, revealing her from angles and perspectives she would never have considered before. They offered her a clearer view of a woman whose confidence and self-love had blossomed from a place of discovery and acceptance. She no longer shied away from her reflection; instead, she looked at herself with a newfound openness, appreciating the uniqueness that made her who she was.

Eventually, Jihyo realized she wanted to bring this experience home, to let this newfound freedom settle into her daily life, beyond the mirrors of the hotel. One evening, after what she knew would be her final hotel visit, she found herself standing in her bedroom, unwrapping an oversized mirror she had ordered just for herself. The frame was sleek, elegantly crafted, its generous size designed to capture every angle around her bed—just like the mirrors in the hotel room that had shown her so much. She traced her fingers along the edge, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath her fingertips, a soft smile playing on her lips as memories of her journey flickered in her mind.

The mirror was more than a piece of decor; it was a symbol of everything she had uncovered and the confidence she had unlocked. It embodied her courage to embrace not just her desires but her own beauty, her own strength. It was a reflection of the woman she had become—a woman who could look at herself without fear or hesitation, fully aware of her beauty in all its complexity.

After placing the mirror carefully at the foot of her bed, she stepped back, taking in the way her reflection gazed back with clear eyes and a self-assured smile. The sight filled her with a profound sense of pride and fulfillment. She had taken control of her narrative, claiming her own image as beautiful, strong, and worthy. She found herself standing there, rooted and grounded in her own power, savoring the warmth of her own strength radiating back at her.

Later, as she lay down beneath her covers. Jihyo felt a gentle warmth spread through her, a pride she hadn’t known until now. She no longer avoided her reflection or let insecurities cloud her view of herself. For the first time, she faced it head-on, proud of the strength and beauty that had been there all along. What she saw went far beyond appearances; she saw a confidence, a power, and a deep, abiding love for herself, whole and complete.

As the moonlight cast a soft, ethereal glow on the mirror beside her bed, her heart filled with gratitude, her mind resting in calm acceptance. She no longer questioned her worth or doubted her beauty. Her journey had led her here, to a place where she could finally see herself clearly.

And as her eyes fluttered closed, a gentle smile softened her lips, her heart quietly affirming the truth she had come to know:

She is truly and undeniably beautiful.

[babyleostuff]

bike chase

𝜗𝜚 GENRE: fluff, established (secret) relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!dino x idol!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: you are his secret, and he is yours. so what happens when a paparazzi catches you on a date?

“fix your hat, baby.” 

“huh?” chan looked up from his phone, his handsome face on full display. if you could have it your way, you’d never let him wear anything to cover the bright eyes, and beautiful smile that you fell in love with (hiding a face like that was technically a crime), but in your world it was impossible. as much as you’d wish to show off your boyfriend, and you knew chan was dying to share your pictures on his instagram as well, you were grateful you could make it work anyway. 

not every idol was as lucky as you were. 

“your hat,” you sighed, and kicked the kickstand down so your bike wouldn’t fall. your boyfriend  was still focused on his phone when you grabbed his face to fix the bucket hat so it would properly cover his face. “we have to be careful, remember.” 

the chance of bumping into someone was slim, like - there was a reason why you went on a biking trip at 2 am - it was the only time you had an illusion of privacy. it was just a matter of time before someone would recognise you anyway, but at least you could hold hands without being paranoid about the people around you. ever since the Han River incident last month when some paps recognised you (and took some quite unflattering pics, in your opinion), you learned your lesson to step up on your dressing up as undercover spies game. thankfully the photos were so blurry that your companies had no problem with denying the rumours. 

“thank you,” chan mumbled, and placed a peck on your forehead. you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth - he looked way too endearing with his concentrated expression, but he was the one to insist that he’d manage to find your way back home. you were officially banned from helping him. 

“how’s it going?” you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “will i sleep in my bed today or do i need to find a comfortable bench for the night?” 

“hey, have some faith in me,” he whined, finally looking up from his phone. “it’s not my fault the maps aren’t working. look,” he showed you the open map app he’d been struggling with for the past twenty minutes as if to prove that he wasn’t not the problem here, “the service sucks here.” 

“maybe we should’ve invested in some old fashioned maps,” you sighed, and leaned your head on chan’s shoulder. 

being up at the late hour wasn’t something unusual for the both of you, but you wouldn’t lie - after a full day of schedules and rehearsals you were getting kind of tired. not to mention you were biking for the past hour, so being stuck in the middle of nowhere was not an ideal situation for you. 

as if chan noticed your energy dropping, he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. “tired?” he asked, his mouth brushing your cheek.  

“a bit.” 

“i’m sorry. it was my idea to go on a bike ride, we should’ve just stayed home.” 

you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s annoying habit of apologising for every small thing he thinks he's done wrong. “listen to me, lee chan,” you grabbed his chin, and rolled up the front of his bucket hat, so you could see him properly. “if i have to be stuck with someone, i’m happy that it’s you. besides, i agreed to the whole biking trip, so please - stop apologising.” 

he gave you a smile, clearly still feeling a bit guilty. there weren't many things you could do together without being seen, so chan took it upon himself to come up with fun, yet safe ways to spend your dates without being noticed. not that you needed it - as long as you were with him, what you did didn't matter, but your boyfriend had a heart of gold, so you couldn't tell him he didn't have to try so hard. 

“i love you,” the sincerity in his voice made you melt every time he said those three words. you’d never get bored of hearing them in person, not when you usually got them through messages or phone calls.  

“love you too,” you said, and kissed his lips softly, before rolling down the front of his hat. “but channie?” 

“hm?”

“maybe i can help you after all. i’m sure we’ll figure the maps out together.” 

“yeah i think that’s a good idea,” he let out a quiet giggle, and lowered the phone so you could see the screen. you put your arm around his waist, because your boyfriend’s personal space was also your personal space, and you quickly fell into a comfortable silence. if your legs weren’t aching, and tummy rumbling from the lack of food, you’d tease chan for giving up on his big boy job to get you home, but you didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty than he was already feeling.  

it was kind of ironic how you wanted to get away from the hussle of the city, and now ended up god knows where. 

“did you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning his head towards the trees. 

you followed his gaze to where he was looking, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. “no, i don’t think so. maybe you just heard an animal or something,” you said. usually you weren't easily scared, chan was the scaredy-cat in your relationship, but the dark surroundings and lack of people did their job. especially since the boy in front of you suddenly acted like he had seen a ghost.

"i could’ve sworn," he muttered, looking around, "that i heard the clicking of a camera."

hearing this, you took a better look around you, because the sound of the camera didn't mean anything good in your case. 

"are you sure…" and that's when you heard it too.

click.

"chan?" you looked at your boyfriend, panicked. "what now?"

the boy grabbed your chin so that you wouldn't accidentally turn towards the person who apparently liked to follow people at night and take photos of them.

“don't turn around and listen to me,” chan swallowed, “we'll get on our bikes and leave.”

if you weren't panicked enough before, you definitely were now. "and this is your great plan?" you shouted at him quietly, as if the person hiding in the bushes could hear you.

"do you have a better idea, honey?"

you shook your head because no, you didn't, so all you really had was chan’s mistermind plan. running away from the paparazzi sounded crazy though, like something out of a bad rom-com, but what else were you supposed to do? the worst part was that you didn't know how long this person had been following you, or if they had just noticed you - and whether they realised who you actually were.

"on three?" chan ran his thumb along your chin. a small smirk appeared on his face, as if the idea of escaping on a bike was the best date idea ever. 

nodding, you took a few steps back to blindly find the handle of your bike. you finally managed to find the kickstand too and kicked it up, now fully ready for the craziest thing you were going to do this week.

"one."

everything will be fine.

"two."

what could go wrong?

"three!"

as if burned, you turned around, making sure to keep your head down so that your face wasn't visible, and jumped on the bike. you had never started pedalling so fast, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you more energy than ever. you just had time to turn around to see if the person had come out of the bushes to follow you, but you didn't see anything.

with new energy, you kept following your boyfriend, who, like you, was pedalling as fast as he could. what a pity that chan was a born dancer with thighs and an ass that many men envied, which meant you had to pedal twice as fast. what fun.

"i think we lost him!" you shouted so that he could hear you.

chan turned around with a huge smile on his face and you couldn't help but laugh. your hair was swirling around your face, and you had to grab your head to keep your own hat from falling off - that’s how fast you were running away from your new friend. who would have thought that the night would end like this. 

but suddenly, the smile on your boyfriend's face disappeared and was replaced by an expression of surprise and horror at the same time.

"he's on a bike!" he shouted.

what?!

you quickly looked behind you, a little scared of what you might see. and damn chan, but he wasn't wrong - the guy, even though he was a bit behind you, was riding a bike with a camera over his shoulder.

he looked comical, although you suspected you two didn't look any better.

"faster," chan shouted and turned to see where he was going, "we have to lose him!"

now it was no longer looking like a rom-com but a low-budget action movie with very bad actors and an even worse villain. you couldn't wait to do a live talking about how you ran away from some random dude on a bike. 

your thighs burned like hell, and you felt like you were slowly getting out of breath, but it didn't slow you down at all. you mentally thanked yourself for all those hours spent at the gym, though you’d never think they’d come in handy for a bike chase. 

“are you okay?” you heard chan yell. 

“yeah, keep going.” 

you wouldn’t let a weirdo with a camera beat you. 

you finally entered an area where buildings started to appear, and without thinking, you followed the boy in front of you as he turned into an alley that looked more than suspicious.

"is he still there?" 

you glanced behind you and like a maniac, the guy with the camera was still pedalling. 

"yes!"

"is he serious?"

you drove through the street and entered another one, making a sharp turn. it's a good thing you two weren't driving a car because you didn't know how much you could’ve trusted chan in a car chase. your boyfriend was driving fifty kilometres an hour, even when the limit was seventy.

a few turns later, you turned around again to see how far your friend was, and luckily he wasn't as fit as you, because you didn't see him anywhere. poor fella probably got tired. 

"i think we lost him!"

chan nodded but didn't slow down. who knew where this paparazzi could suddenly appear from. but to be honest, if you could you’d applaud him for his dedication, not everyone had the drive to chase two idols on a random tuesday night through the streets of seoul.

"baby," chan suddenly stopped and got off the bike. because of how fast you were going, your brakes squeaked when you pressed them. "come here." the boy jumped off his bike and looked at you before disappearing into the narrow alley.

you didn't even want to ask what he was doing, so without any questions you got off your bike and went in the direction where your boyfriend had just disappeared. the alley was very narrow, barely able to fit the two of you, let alone your bikes, but you somehow managed to hide yourselves, so you weren't visible from the main street.

"why..." but before you could finish your question, you heard someone panting, and a second later, right next to you, the paparazzi who had been chasing you for the last fifteen minutes biked past.

you snorted and poked your head out to make sure that the guy disappeared, or if he maybe had decided to look for you here. luckily he wasn't smart enough, and was nowhere in sight.

you looked at your boyfriend, who like you was out of breath, but oh so pleased with himself.

"you don't have to thank me," he said, and as if on cue, that annoyingly handsome smirk returned to his face.

“you idiot,” you huffed and pushed his arm.

"i told you today would be fun," he said and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. now that your adrenaline was starting to wear off and you felt how exhausted you actually were, you realised how close you and chan were. 

yes, you were both sweaty and smelly as hell, and there were beads of sweat dripping from your boyfriend's forehead, but he seemed as handsome to you as ever. his messy hair, his chest rapidly rising up and down, the sleeves of his compression shirt hugging his strong biceps - he was a sight for sore eyes. 

and only for you to see. 

"you're right, lover boy," you said, because it was true. despite all your fear, you didn't think the guy managed to get any decent photos, and you'd worry about your companies later and in the end, you had a great time. "but do you know what?"

"what?" chan smiled cockily and leaned towards you.

just as he was about to kiss you, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.

"we still have to get home somehow."

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[clawsdevour]

one more time

wc: 2.4k content warning: post-time skip, lev x reader, smut, one night stand oral sex m!receiving, fingering, size kink, not proofread

note: this may be kindaaa rushed at the end... sorryyyyy but lev x size kink is real to me too anon... like i get you and i hope u enjoy it :D

༘⋆｡˚

Gravity’s pulling you down as you elevate up the luxurious hotel to your one night stand’s room. To your surprise, you weren’t expecting such a rich person you’d be hooking up with for the night. Since 8:03 PM you’ve been feeling a bit in need of some good dick to fill you up. And well, nowadays it could take a while to get into someone’s pants, so why not try a dating app? 

Scrolling and swiping till your eyes settled on this certain man’s profile. He didn’t show his full face, but he did show his side profile.. Just barely. He seemed to appear as a pale man with foreign features and grey hair. Staring at his profile, your eyes are absolutely glued onto him even though that was the only photo of himself on the app. 

Feeling a bit risky, you decide to swipe on him. You knew the chances were slim with what you put on your profile. But to your surprise.. He also swiped on you, the app giving you the little notification that you’ve matched. Oh my god! He actually swiped back?? Your heart started to flutter when you realized he was typing, the little bubble emote popping up in the corner of your screen. Shockingly, he was very charismatic. For about an hour or two, you’re both just getting to know each other. Especially why you both were on the app in the first place.

L: just wondering.. Why’re you on this app? You: okay this is kinda embarrassing to admit  You: but i’m just looking for a hook up...

Flushed with humiliation, turning your phone over right after you sent that message. The vibration his text sent to your phone, making you feel anxious.

L: oh haha! L: i’m actually on here for the same thing L: ik we just met but like since we’re both looking for L: well yk… sex L: do you wanna do it with me?

Five messages in under a minute. This man must be as desperate as you. No way you’re gonna let this opportunity slide. Of course you’re gonna take this chance to get dicked down by a nice and gorgeous man. Overall, it was just a one night stand.

You: well are you down for tonight? L: i’m free rn and later and till like tmr.. L: so yeah im down You: send over that address

Stepping out of the elevator on the floor where your hook up’s waiting for you. Your heels clicked and clack, yes, you wore heels after checking the address he sent you. The sounds continued to tap against the hotel marble floors, echoing against the walls as you stared at his hotel door. 

Gulping deeply before you knock with your knuckles, the door swung open causing you to gasp. The tall and broad silhoutte grabs you inside, shutting the door behind you. What’s going on?? Was all was coursing through your mind.

“Look, I can explain.” The man gently shouts after you break free of his grasp, hands up to show he meant no harm. You’re looking at him like you’ve gone into fight or flight mode. The figure’s removing his black hat and facemask, revealing himself as Lev Haiba. Yes, Lev Haiba like the famous model you see on billboards everywhere in Shibuya!

“W-Wait.. You’re–” face altered to mouth out an ‘o.’ Your words came to a halt when he responded with “Yes.. I know I’m Lev Haiba. Like the model… but look! I’m also tryna have fun just like you.”

Wowed, you tried to ignore the fact that he’s a celebrity, trying to give him that sense of normality in his world. You weren’t on his level of fame, but you understood and nodded. Still, you can’t help but be baffled at this pure luck.

“So.. are you gonna show me it?” You’re inching closer towards his face while he’s slowly backing up, finger pressing down on his exposed chest from his unbuttoned dress shirt, stopping when his back hit the cold wall. You have this smug look on your face while he’s down for the challenge, biting on his bottom lip seeing how needy you were, his eyes glaring back at you sinfully.

“After we makeout,” immediately, Lev’s crashing his soft lips against yours through heavy breathes. You’re closing your half lidded eyes as you fought back, trying to assert your dominance through the deep kiss. You lose control of the flow when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth, exploring the inside of your mouth with his wet and warm muscle. 

The desire for intimacy grew so much, you started to moan into the kiss, wow was he good it was almost fever inducing. Although it was hella arousing, you did have to pull back to catch your breath for a moment. His green lustful eyes fluttered down on you, watching your complex swell with red undertones. A thin string of saliva was the only thing that connected you two. 

“Should we head over to the bedroom?” The half-Russian man murmured under his tired breath. You mumbled out a simple “Yeah” before wrapping your arms around his neck, signaling him to catch you when you jump up on him.

He’s slowly strolling down the large penthouse, heavy footsteps mixed with the sounds of your swollen lips that met once again. The sounds of smooching resonated along the decorated walls. His hands were kneading your ass while he carried you close to his body. His hands are traveling all over the dress you wore while you kicked off your heels on the floor, essentially abandoning them. His hands prod down lower, through the sheerness of your dress his finger feel something warmer than skin.. and something damp. 

“You’re not wearing anything under your dress?” leaning his head away centimeters away from yours, pausing his actions. His piercing eyes burned into you with hunger, his smile curving into a smirk before he chuckled in glee.

“Why would I if I knew it’d end up on the floor?” Staring down his at gorgeous features his model face was born with. His perfect eyes, nose, and swollen lips due to yours. 

“Aww, I wanted to rip it off” He taunted with an expressive face that beamed at you. You feel a hand come off of you, the sound of the door handle twisting.

The cool air instantly hits you before he even walked in. Windows galore, you forgot you’re on the highest floor of the whole building. Your eyes lit up since all you could see was the streets of Shibuya. 

“Pretty nice, huh” Lev huffed before tossing you onto the fluffy white sheets before unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt. You watch as he’s unhooking each button from each coin shaped slot, mouth salivating when you saw his abs that were delicately highlighted by the moon ...As well as the size that pressed against his tight pants.

“Those pants look real tight..” giggling as you leaned towards his crotch to free his growing bulge. Damn did it look bigger when he slid down his pants to show you his grey boxers that had a moist spot.

You’re looking up for his approval to take his cock out of his boxers, to which he shakes out a nod to continue. Rubbing his length before taking it out, it accidentally smacks you on the cheek with its overwhelming girth.

“It’s so.. Big! I don’t know if this’ll fit in my mouth Lev..” you mouthed out with a slight worried expression covered by excitement. You don’t know if you’re able to take his cock but you know at the end you’re gonna end up begging for him. 

On your knees on the plush mattress, you’re stroking his cock up and down with your cold hands. Your mouth parted to go down on his dick, the size was way overbearing which causing you to cough like crazy.

“You don’t have to rush. I’m already feeling pretty, ..pretty good” his large hands caressed your cheeks, ready to wipe off any tears his cock could cause you.

Second times a charm, you thought to yourself before trying again. This time you were successful in getting the tip in. The heat from your mouth radiated and swarmed him in pleasure, making him slightly tilt his head up as he’s trying to keep his eyes on you from above. The more you inched down on him, the more your jaw started to hurt trying to take all of him.

“I’hurt..” gagging before you can form a sentence. Lev, taking it out of your mouth before sitting you back down.

His body was towering over yours till your head hit the pillows with a soft thud. He’s helping you remove your dress, revealing your bare and naked body to him as his eyes lingered for far too long. Your nipples perked due to the cold air, your pussy slightly glistening from being aroused.

“Already this wet?” big hands grab onto the side of your thighs, pulling you down for inspection while they parted your knees for him. Lev’s staring you down before averting his green eyes lower to your clit that begged for stimulation. 

A finger brushes against your slit, making you slightly flinch at his touch. He’s showing you the amount of slick he’s collected on his finger followed by a “How cute” before inserting it back into your pussy that longed to be stuffed.

His slender long fingers worked wonders, making you arch your back more everytime he curled into you. Adding in more one at at a time, he’s got three in there to stretch you out. It was a lot to take in as your legs trembled with pleasure every time you were close. 

Heat pooled in the depths of your stomach as you absorbed his fingers that scissored you wide open. The squelching was unmatched to what the sloppy and wet kissing sounds were like when you roamed the halls to the bedroom. Your mouth was parted the whole time to let him hear all of your sweet and vulnerable moans as you called out his name.

“Stop.. M’gonna cum again!” Your hands reached for his, gripping onto his wrist that moved in and out of you at a hasty pace. This wasn’t the first orgasm but rather your second or maybe third.

His digits continued to plummet into you until you started to see stars on the plain white ceiling. Blinking back to your consciousness as you panted out, your sopping wet sunt pulsating as if it had its own heartbeat. You bring your head up to see the giant man stroking his cock whilst gazing at the sight of you sprawled on his bed with your legs spread, pussy coated in juices he produced.

“I’m on the pill, y-you can just put it in” You’re stuttering out words as your reached to spread your pussy open for him to gawk at. Your gaping wet entrance, rising and falling with your pace of breathing. 

“Okay, but let me know when to stop or slow down if it hurts though,” he’s mumbling through his breath, broad shoulders inching forward towards you. 

He’s sliding his cock against your warm and swollen clit down to your entrance, making you clench a bit due to the intimate friction. When his dick was all covered in your warm essence, he lined himself up. His glossy eyes looked at you once more, while you watched him slide a few centimeters into you.

Biting down on your lower lip, it was more than just a stretch to get the tip in. Your hole had to expand to his size as he started to inch in further. He could see the pain he was putting through when you started to increase your grip on the sheets, eyes swelling with tears that formed.

“I’m sorry. It hurts a lot doesn’t it..” removing a hand from under your thigh to brush off a tear. You bob your head in silence as you continued to take him. Lev’s giving you his time and patience while peppering your face with forgiving kisses.

When he eventually fit his full length in, Lev was kind enough to give you a moment for you to adjust as if your pussy was molding to the shape of him. He’s waiting for your cue to start penetrating you, as he held back his urges. Your tight walls clamped down on him, as if you were able to snap his cock in half. 

“You feel so good even though we haven’t started moving yet.” He’s chuckling to himself, seeing how good you took him. His large size fitting inside that tight hole that drove him feral when you rocked your hips the slightless bit.

“You can start moving..” you muttered whilst reaching for his face. “M’kay” was the last thing you heard before the pain started to thrust into you. His massive cock was scratching the inside of your walls like nails on a chalkboard. 

It took a while before the pain started to turn into pleasure. He’s going at a consistent rate, not too fast nor too slow. His groans ring in your ear as you’re watching him thrust from above. Lev’s showing you his vulnerable face, he looked so delicious it made you feel so lucky that you’re able to see this side of him. Nevertheless have him in you.

Everything his cock hit inside you made your body shiver in pleasure. His dick was so big, he didn’t even have to find your sweet spot if he’s rubbing up all of your gummy walls. The pleasure and overstimulation was crazy. You can’t recall how many times you may have came on him. By the time he was about to finish, it’s like your mind was about to go numb.

“F-Fuck.! I’m boutta cum..” one last thrust or two before Lev pulled out to jack off his dick. Making you slightly whimper as you felt empty without him to fill you up. He’s stroking it fast above you, his cum squirting onto your stomach. Painting your abdomen with his seed, as your body heaved for air.

Falling down beside you to rest for a bit, his face tilted to your side to look at you. He’s also trembling for air after going on for so long.

“We should do this again..”

masterlist here

[strawberryblue-blog]

Insecurities —FC Barcelona.

summary: How would they react to your insecurities?

warnings: none. sad, angst.

Pedri.

He can't stand to hear you cry because you hate your body, he will do his best to help you with that.

Little things that will make you start to look at yourself differently. He really supports you, he wants to show you how much he likes you, that it's okay to love yourself and that you can do better. You are precious to Pedri and he understands that you are not sure of yourself, so he will love you for both of you.

You don't have to be ashamed with him, Pedri also sometimes has his issues with self-doubt and insecurity, so he understands you. But he doesn't want you to keep suffering, he's going to love you just the way you are. You don't have to be the prettiest, or the thinnest, or the tallest. You just have to be you and that's enough for him.

Ferran Torres.

Ferran really loves to take pictures of you, even when he knows you hate them because you never look good in them. But for him you look so beautiful that he can't help it and wants to make a monument with your photos.

He is aware of your hatred of seeing yourself in photos or mirrors but he wants you to get over it, he wants to help you to be able to see yourself without hating yourself. Ferran loves you so much and obviously doesn't like to see you suffering, image is not everything. He cares about your well being, your mental health, your soul and your heart.

He will show all his love for you, kisses, caresses, hugs that will make you feel safe in his arms, sheltered and protected. He will upload pictures of you with beautiful phrases and will help you to overcome it little by little.

Pablo Gavi.

He is aware of all the effort you make every day to love yourself a little more, he is the reason why you do it and the person who supports you the most in that sense.

He understands your ups and downs that you usually have but he is glad that you alone can turn the situation around. He loves you just the way you are, no matter what you look like, he loves every part of your body and your personality. He doesn't want to burden you with it but if he could he would tell you at home second how beautiful you are on the outside and especially on the inside.

He hopes that together you can get through this, loving and supporting each other like you normally do. He can't wait to show you the immense love he has for you, make you feel loved, wanted and safe. That when you are with him, you can be you completely.

Joao Felix.

He really strives to help you love him every day, with his words, with his caresses, with his heart. Joao usually brings out his most romantic side when we talk about you.

You don't have to pretend to feel good with him, you can tell him anything you want, you can cry, you can just say nothing, Joao will be there for you. He will deny and help you understand that not everything is physical and that your mind is your strongest armor.

He fell in love with you in every possible way, he doesn't need you to be pretty, or tall, or slim, Joao wants to be your refuge, to love you and show you that he will be with you when you need him the most and that he will support you in everything.

Fermin Lopez.

He doesn't like to hear you say that you don't like such and such a thing about yourself, or that you would like to change something about yourself, he hates it. Because he loves every corner of you shamelessly, he admires you and is proud of who you are. He doesn't care about anything but your happiness and love.

Fermin thinks you are the most beautiful woman in the world, he chose you for a reason, everything about you made him fall in love. Neither your height, nor your weight, nor your skin color, nor your language define you. He knows your heart, your intentions, your abilities and that makes him fall in love with you every day.

Sometimes he thinks the world is too cruel and that no one should feel that way, so he will try to help you in any way he can, he wants you to know that he will be there for you no matter what and that he loves you more than anyone else.

Marc Guiu.

If there is someone who understands you, it is Marc. He is also a bit insecure with himself, you are still young and growing. Sometimes he thinks that he is not enough and that he could do better, that maybe you are too much for him. But you know how to support each other in spite of that.

Marc loves you with all your problems and insecurities, just as you love him. You don't need anything but your love for each other to survive. You learned to know each other, to understand each other, to listen to each other and most importantly to love each other.

You are both so secure when you are together, when you laugh, when you kiss, when you love each other, when you are yourselves.Your hearts will grow stronger and your minds will heal little by little as long as you have each other.

[briefalpacashark]

~Ghost of the past~

When returning to your hometown you faced with some unpleasant memories.

================================================

You stared. Your eyes locked on the projection in front of you. You sat with the boys all in a little meeting room as Price walked you through your next mission.

“Australia?” Soap asked.

“That's right. We got a lead that there a weapons cache. One of makarovs. We head in. Clear it out and take a few prisoners for questioning,” Price explained.

“Excited to go home lass?” You looked over the photos of the familiar landscape. Your expression was blank as you comprehend what Price was telling you.

“Lass?” Everyone's attention turned to you. 

“Huh?” You asked, snapping out of your little trance.

“You alright?” Gaz asked, giving your side a little nudge. Your usual bright smile graced your lips as you leaned back in the chair.

“Of course. Sorry Jonny. Was in my own little world. Whadya say?” you asked. You could feel it. The anxiety creeping up your spine. Ticking the back of your ribs.

“Asked if ya excited to go home?” Soap repeated with a grin. You smiled bashfully nodding your head.

“Of course. Where about we going?” you asked Price. He smiled warmly happy with what he was about to tell you.

“We're actually going to your old base, you got family down there, don't you?” he asked. The fear gripped your lungs, stopping any hope of breathing. You nodded.

“You got any hot sisters?” Soap asked. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

You were going home?

“Sorry Jonny. Only got a brother,” you said.

“Damn,” he faked disappointment as Gaz chuckled. Price smiled at the interaction.

“Who we working with?” you asked. 

“Australian special forces. Not sure what team yet,” he stated. 

That's fine. You thought. There were plenty of special forces units. The chances of meeting your old team were slim. But it was still there. You nodded, readjusting in your seat. You could feel the room getting small. The air getting thicker. You didn't take anything else in after that. Your forced smile stayed upon your lips the entire time. And inside your mind was a mess. A storm of past events that had haunted you for many a day and in the dark of night when you searched for sleep. 

“Doc want to come up here and give us a brief. We’ll be out in the bush and Laswell said you might know an insider's thing or two,” he gestured you up. All the fear and anxiety you felt was pushed way down low, locked away and covered in a black curtain. After all there was no use in worrying about something you couldn't change.

“Alright,” You cracked your knuckles slaughtering over to the white board.

“Rule number one!” You took a marker writing the word death in big letters.

“Anything and everything can and will try to kill you. And when I mean everything, I mean everything. No matter what, check your boots every time before you put them on. One bite from a funnel web and you're dead,” You took on a half joking half serious tone as you slapped the board.

“I can almost guarantee that you will come across a snake. Half of them are venomous, the other half aint. But they both will leave you alone if you leave them alone. You see a snake, you stay still, let him pass and then walk away. DO! NOT! PESTER! THE WILDLIFE! They can and will fuck you up,” the boys grinned as you emphasised the next words.

“Rule number two,” You wrote the word etiquette.

“When meeting someone or walking past someone you will be asked this question. Howya goin? Translated, it means how are you going. This is not a question. It is not an innovation to have a conversation. This is a greeting. The only appropriate response to this greeting are as follows,

Not to bad.

Could be better.

Good mate.

You can then have the option to say, yourself? It gives them the option to answer the same question. Do not feel offended if they dont answer,” You stated. 

“You will be called every name under the god damn sun. You will be called a cunt. It can be used as the greatest sign of affection and the greatest insult. It's all based on how they say it. Pay attention to the tone,” you said.

“You haven't called us cunts before. That mean you don't love us?” Soap asked.

“Speak for yourself,” Price spoke up. You grinned, turning back to the board. 

“Do not call anyone champ. That is the worst insult you can give, it will get you punched,” you wrote the word champ and put a larger x across it.

“If you are driving and someone gives way to you, always and I mean always give them a nod and a two-finger wave,” you explained demonstrating the movement.

“And for the love of god beware the drop bears,” you took a deathly serious tone as you wrote the word.

“The fuck is a drop bear?” Gaz asked. You turned staring deeply into their souls,

“They're about as big as a dog. Corse grey fur, one the most vicious animals you will meet down under. They hide in trees and drop down on unsuspecting prey, on unsuspecting people. They'll rip you to shreds faster than any of the bears here. Tear your face right of the bone” Inside you were howling with laughter as the flashes of fear you saw in the boys' faces. “Alright, that about covers it. Follow those rules and you should be fine,” You smiled cheerily.

On the flight over you found yourself staring deeply at the other side of the cargo area. It was actually happening. You thought about opting out of the mission. Using some bull shit excuse that excused you from attending. Price would have allowed it. 

And leave your team all alone? You smiled, shaking your head. No matter how scared you were, you would never abandon them. After all you had faced worse. Much worse.

But you didn't know if you could face them again.

Them?

Your old team. Every face is still fresh in your mind, as if you had only seen them yesterday. Leaning back, you closed your eyes as the plane started to descend. The fear was fighting to break free.

“You've been awfully quiet,” Your eyes snapped open, and you looked to your left where Ghost sat. His gaze was forward facing his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nervous I guess,” you chuckled. He slowly looked to you his eyes burning into your own seeming to look for whatever secret you were keeping. 

“How long has it been?” he asked.

“Not long enough,” with his eyes boring into yours you felt as if the truth was trusted out from your chest. He hummed, seeming to get everything he wanted from the interaction before returning to his quiet self.

The plane landed and the back ramp opened up. Heaving your bag onto your shoulders you let the boys take the lead, hoping to use their tall asses to keep you hidden. The hot Australian sun of the great QLD hit you all like a wave. You had gotten used to the rain and shady weather of the Uk. You all walked out and onto the tarmac.

“Hot as balls in ear,” Soap commented.

“Captain Price!” Your group made your way over to the soldier that had been sent to greet you. He was a colonel. A well decorated one by the look of his badges. You were glad when you didn't recognize him.

“Colonel James, I presume?” Price asked as they shook hands.

“You presume right. Welcome to Australia, come on,” he nodded you to follow. As you walked you began to feel eyes set upon you. You saw familiar faces mixed in with the crowd. Some recognized you. some didn't.

“I know Ghost is scary, but anyone feel like they're getting more looks than usual?” Gaz asked as he looked around.

“Yeah,” Soap agreed. You kept your eyes on Ghost back hoping to just get inside as soon as possible.

“Fucken hell,” Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice. 

“Ah. Captain. This is Major Adam. He leads the squad you'll be working besides,” the colonel just confirmed your worst-case scenario. “Also known as the Bloody Hells,” your hand instinctively tightens around the gun you carried casually in front of you. You wouldn't believe your luck, actually you could believe your luck. Trust lady luck to throw such a twisted day at you. 

“They wernt fucking about with you lot,” Major Adam stated as he looked Ghost up and down.

“Major,” The colonel warned.

“Come on mate. We're gonna risk our necks with these boys. I think we can dispense with the formalities. Call me Adam. none of that major shit,” Adam went through the lads introducing himself. And they in return.

“Isn't there supposed to be one more of you?” Adam asked. You prayed with all your might that Ghost would stay where he was. That you could hide behind him for the whole mission if possible. Only he looked back towards you stepping back to put you on full view. Adam eyes dropped from Ghost to you. Everything froze as he gave you a kind sad smile. He did look different in the slightest. Still the same drop-dead gorgeous face. Perfect bone structure and curly black hair. His face brought back a flood of memories.

“Y/N,” the way he so tenderly used your name made you want to puke. You clench your jaw as you debate on what exactly you should do. 

“Major,” You gave a curt nod.

“You two know each other?” Price asked calculating your reaction.

“She's a part of our team,” Adam stated simply.

“Used to be. This is my team now,” You nodded to the boys. Adam smiled with an understanding nod.

“Of course. But can I just say a goodbye would have been nice. Hell, even a reason as to why you left,” You couldn't believe the audacity of the man in front of you. He knew exactly why you had left. And he knew you knew. That sweet little smile he wore twisted ever so sinisterly at its edges. 

“Oh, Sargent Y/L/N?” The colonel asked.

“That's her name. She prefers to go by Maddog though,” Adam chuckled light heartedly.

“Mad dog?” Soap asked, turning to you. The boys were all watching you, unsecure of what to make of your behavior. 

“Old nick name,” you stated simply. From the moment he had arrived you had yet to take your eyes of Adam. Yet to release the tight hold you had on your weapon.

“Well, it's an honor. Heard a lot about your work from my brother. He's a medic as well,” The colonel gave you a kind smile.

“Maybe you could give the kid a few pointers,” Adam suggested. 

“Maybe,” you bit. You just wanted it all to be over. You wanted to get out of there. You wanted to get away from the interaction. Away from him. An awkward silence passed over the group as Adam stared at you.

“Well let's get you situated,” The colonel gestured your group forward. Adam gave you all a nod as you passed. Only his hand snapped out gripping painfully tight onto your upper arm.

“Welcome home sweetheart,” Adam smirked as he whispered the words. Your eyes narrowed into a glare. 

“Let go,” you ordered. His smirk widened but he refused to move. 

“What? Didn't you miss me?” he asked.

“Doc!” you both turned to the group who had walked a few steps away. Ghost had already turned to you having been the first to notice your missing presence. The rest turned to the call. The boys could all see it. How rigid your body was. How posed it was to jump into combat at a moment's notice. How white your knuckles had gotten because of your tight grip.

“Behave. Wouldn't want your new friends getting hurt,” the warning Adam gave you had you ripping your arm from his grasp.

“I could say the same to you,” you whispered back before jogging up to your team giving them a reassuring smile.

As you were unpacking your things you could feel the gazes of the boys on your back.

“Sooooooo,” Soap trailed off.

“He was the lead of my old team. Things didn't end on good terms,” you answered quickly.

“Things?” Soap was trying to lighten the mood with his teasing tone. You were surprised when you practically slammed your locker closed.

“I'll be back soon,” you rushed the words out as you left, keeping your back to the boys. As soon as you closed the doors they shared looks.

“She's been a mess since you told us we were comen here,” Ghost announced.

“So you noticed too?” Price asked, readjusting on his cot.

“Should we be worried?” Gaz asked. They had never dealt with this side of you before. 

“That Adam guy seems nice,” Soap shrugged.

“Too nice,” Ghost muttered.

So there you were. ACDC music blasting in the shed you currently resided in. At the moment you were gutting an old truck. Tearing it apart screw by screw, bolt by bolt. It was a part of the engineer's program you guys had. New recruits had to build it completely from scratch. That meant it had to be taken apart first. It was the job everyone hated. Yet since the start of your military career you had one day been volunteered for such a task. You found a strange solace in the task. Solace you so desperately needed as your emotions decided to play trip wire with your body. It was night by the time your team came to find you. You peeked at them around the truck. You expected questions, Soaps prying nature to take over. Instead, they found scattered items to act as seats as they cracked open a few beers. Definitely not army regulation. They didn't pry, they knew you didn't want to talk about it. It brought a warm fuzzy feeling to your belly. They were there to support you. To show you, you weren't alone.

“Need a hand?” Ghost asked as he offered you a beer. 

“Sure, grab a spanner,” you took the beer, cracking it open and sculling it. Praying to find a calm in the effects of alcohol.

“What are we fixing?” he asked, looking over the half dismantled truck.

“Not fixing, pulling apart. All of it,” you stated licking the foam from your lips. You had failed to notice Ghost gaze as it trailed over your face, your lips, and your neck and upper chest that glistened with sweat. 

“Seems simple enough,” he nodded.

“That's not wise. Ghost and vehicles don't mix,” Soap spoke up. A small smile worked its way onto your face as the other laughed. 

“Don't worry Ghost. I trust ya,” you whispered jokingly to him offering him a wink. He gave a grunt as he got to work. He was wearing a short sleeve, giving you a perfect view of his muscles that rippled under his skin with each movement. As you worked you stole glances at his tattooed sleeve. 

“See something you like love?” your eyes snapped up to his face thinking you had been caught out. Only his gaze was focused on the machine in front of him.

“Nah, just something shockingly ugly,” you joked. Again, you could swear his mask tilted into a smile.

“You just smiled,” you stated proudly.

“I don't smile,” he shut you down quickly. 

“Sure,” you nodded not believing him in the slightest.

“Is she here!?” you frowned at the demand. The yell echoing through the shed.

“Woah kid. Slow down,” Price stood to meet the soldier that had just run to them.

“Is she here?” he pressed. You stepped out from behind Ghost spotting a member from your old team. Jamie. Sweet kid. Red hair and a baby face. Good heart. When he saw you, his face crumpled, his body filled with guilt. And relief?

“So you're really alive?” he asked. The boys gave you confused glances at his statement. You became very invested in getting the grease stains off your hands. “It would seem so,” you muttered. It was silent as Jamie simply stared at you.

“What do you want Jamie?” you asked softly. Too softly. Tears started to gather in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. Your eyes snapped up at the words. 

“I'm so sorry,” he kept repeating the words as you stalked forward.

“Shut up,” you demanded.

“I- I didn't want to. I should have never done it. Im so so sorry,” the words tumbled out of his mouth in a jumbled mess.

“Get lost Jamie,” You ordered.

“Mad dog please,” he begged.

“I said get lost!” you snapped.

“Please, I know it was wrong. I just. I was scared ok. And we were given orders. I- I didn't know what to do,” he was begging at this point.

“Oh you were scared were you?” You asked sarcastically. His mouth clamped shut. You had been sacred. Terrified. That fear lived in your heart, forever embedded into your memory. And what had he done for it. Nothing. “Come on,” you tried to drag him away. Tried to hide whatever would come to light from the boys. Only Jamie stopped pulling back from your grip. 

“He said you were dead,” he whispered. Your hand snapped out gripping tightly onto his collar.

Your mind plunged you back to that fateful day. The day you were standing on hell's doorstep. Bloodied and bruised from your efforts to save your team. The day your team fled in the safety of a helicopter. The day they saw you. Each and every one of them saw you. Alive and fighting for your goddamn life all alone. The day they left you to die. Jamie knew the words he had just said were a lie. His face wouldn't have scrunched up in such an ashamed way if he didn't.

“Doc?” Price called you softly. They weren't sure what you were about to do. But they all stood at the ready.

“Let's talk about this elsewhere,” you demanded once again, going to pull him away.

“No,” he pulled back again. “I'm not leaving until you listen to me,” He stayed. Fine if he wanted to have the conversation you'd have the conversation. 

“What did you come here for Jamie? Forgiveness?” You asked softly. He was still the kid you took under your wing. He was still the boy you had fought beside. Shed blood beside.

“Forgive what? Huh?” you asked. You wanted him to answer. To admit what he had done.

“Please,” he begged. Your resolve wasn't easy to break. But Jamie always had a special place in your heart. He reminded you of your little brother. That made it all the more painful.

“Were human Jamie. We all have moments of weakness. Of cowardice,” you whispered. “I won't blame you for that. I'll forgive you for that,” you stated. You saw the slightest hope in his eyes.

“But I'll never forget,” you finished diminishing that hope.

“A moment of weakness is understandable,” you added. You released his collar fixing it. 

“How long has it been since we last met?” you asked.

“About two years,” he answered in slight confusion.

“Damn long time for a moment of weakness huh?” you asked bitterly. Shame consumed him as he cast his eyes to the ground.

“Fuck of Jamie,” you ordered softly. He walked off without a word of protest, his tail tucked between his legs.

“And Jamie,” you called after him. He turned awaiting your next words.

“He's gonna get you killed,” you said. He didn't acknowledge your words, but you could see they had wormed their way into his brain. And a little part of him knew you were right. 

You could feel the boy's eyes bore into you. Trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

Silently you walked back over to the truck, picking up your discarded wrench and getting back to work. 

“You alright love?” Price asked. The boys were shocked when you showed them your usual bright smile. They were surprised at how normal you could act, but they all knew the smile on your face wasn't accurate to what you were feeling inside. 

“I'm fine, boys,” you said.

“I'd like to be alone for a bit, if it's alright you you lot?” you suggested casually. 

“Yeah, yeah. Course,” Price nodded, gesturing for the boys to leave.

“Well be back at base if you need anything,” he added before walking off. You waited till you couldn't hear the foot falls before you dropped your head into your hand, the tears flowing from your eyes like a tap. 

God, what had you gotten yourself into. 

Your soft sobs echoed in the shed, being just loud enough for the boys to hear.

It was late when you walked into the tent. You knew the boys would have woken up with your arrival, but they stayed in their sleeping positions. You looked over them. How many times had they risked their life for you. How many times had they saved you. 

They had saved you.

Joining the 141 saved you. 

And you were damned if you were to let anything happen to them.

“Price,” you walked over to him. He opened his eyes quickly sitting up.

“Need anything love?” he asked. 

“We can't go on this mission,” you said. He frowned, glancing at the others who had all sat up.

“Whadya mean?” he asked you to elaborate.

“Adam’s a snake sir. He will fuck us over without a second thought if it means getting what he wants. We can't trust him. And we can't go on this mission. It's too dangerous,” you spoke firmly. The only betrayal to the hard font you put on being the red puffy eyes from crying.

“That's not really an option Doc,” he said.

“Then make it one,” you pressed. He pressed his lips together, sighing. You had never asked anything of him. You had trusted his every order, his every choice. “Doc, we all have history. But we are soldiers. Shit goes wrong all the time,” he was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see that whatever lovers quarrel you had with Adam meant nothing. That's what he thought it was. He would never be able to guess the severity of what had happened.

“Please Sir. I'm begging you, Please don't make us go on this mission,” they hated how frail you sounded. How broken. Price wanted at that very moment to give into you. To do as you said. But he didn't have the full story.

“If I'm gonna do this I need the full story doc,” he gave you the ultimatum. He needed proof to ditch the mission. Reasonable doubt. After all he was a soldier, a good one at that. He couldn't ditch a mission just because one of his soldiers asked him nicely.

“I,” your words got caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything. 

But you couldn't.

“I can't say sir,” you admitted.

“Then this conversation is done,” he spoke softly, finishing the discussion. At that moment you hated how rational he was.

“Yes sir,” you whispered, walking over to your bunk and sitting down with your back to the boys. After slipping off your boots you got into bed.

The next day everyone was ready. When the boys had woken up you were nowhere to be seen in the barracks. 

“You think she'll come?” Soap asked as he checked his weapons. To their left the bloody hells were doing final checks as well.

“Don't know,” Price muttered. A soft silence washed over the group as you walked up to them. You wore a simple desert mask that covered the bottom half on you face your eyes blank of emotions. The boys took notice of the guilty bewildered looks the other team gave you. “Well good morning beautiful,” Adam smiled brightly. You paused looking over his face. You had made many memories with the man in front of you. Many sweet and beautiful. But they were all bitter now. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out an old patch. The bloody hells written in red upon it. The edge was stained with blood, the other side burnt slightly. 

“Thought it was time I gave this back,” you muttered holding it out to him. He refused to take it.

“Once a member of the bloody hells always a member,” he said. You huffed.

“Nah mate,” you shock your head, throwing it to his feet.

“Lets get it done,” you said, knocking knuckles with Jonny before getting into the back of the truck.

The mission was a simple one. Get in, clear the base. Collect data and dispose of the weapons. It was going well. You were with your boys. That was until you weren't.

“Tims been hit. Our medics down. We need you MadDog,” you ears rung at the comms. You were currently in a hallway. Price turned back to you.

“This is Doc, what is your position, over?” you asked into the comm.

“West side, next to the green building,” he responded.

“That's the cleared area,” you muttered.

“Take Ghost with you,” Price ordered.

“No, you've still got enemies to face. It's a cleared area, I'll be fine,” you said. You were right and he knew it. He also knew you could handle yourself.

“Look after each other ok,” you ordered before taking off in the direction you had come from.

================================================

--COD Master List Here--

================================================

[donatellawritings]

cherry - bang bang, kiss kiss - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language & age-gap

song: taco truck x vb by lana del rey

Laying flat on your stomach, wearing nothing but an oversized printed shirt from college and skimpy boyshorts that hopelessly failed to keep some of your peeking skin concealed, you scrolled on your phone. Soft alternative music hummed through your speaker as you bit down into the swell of your bottom lip - who knew that putting together a dating profile for yourself would prove to be such a meticulous task? An exaggerated sigh was pushed from between your lips as you raised yourself onto your knees, before leaning yourself against the headboard as you carefully chose your three best photos.

Now, it was time for the best part of creating your profile: Age, Sex, Location, Age-Range, and the question of all questions: What are you looking for? It was easy for you to answer the first three questions, yet you found yourself wiping the suddenly clammy palm of your hand against your shirt as you pondered. Sure, being in your early twenties, you've had your fair-share of experience with guys who were in the same age group as you, but what if, maybe, you extended that age-range? Fuck, I mean, your friends have had their own trysts with older men, so, what harm could it bring to you?

Scrolling through the thirties, you found yourself stopped at the ripe age of 45 - the mere thought of being with a man over 20 years your senior bringing a subtle drop of fear to your belly that was quickly overpowered by your sudden excitement. You quickly breathed out a small giggle as you found yourself hovering over the final question. You'd always been precocious, you always knew what you wanted and you went for it, bo questions asked. You wanted to be desired, you wanted someone who would give you the world and everything in it - maybe, it was the hopeless romantic in you, but you'd always envisioned yourself to have a love that was unconditional ... one that you'd give up everything for. So, you sat and typed, and deleted, until you'd found your answer: I want it all.

Once you'd finalized your profile, it didn't take long before you'd found yourself pacing around your room, sifting through what seemed like a never-ending sea of Chicago men who didn't seem to strike you. It seemed as though you'd paced around your room for about an hour, before catching your reflection in the mirror. There you stood, a bit pathetic, maybe even needy? After taking in your reflection for a brief moment, you laughed, "fuck."

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you'd decided you'd wait, give it an hour, you'd shower, eat some dinner, maybe even finish your assignments that you'd been purposely pushing off, until the absolute last day - you will wait.

-

And so, you waited. You purposely decided to binge an episode, or two, of reality television, you even thought about squeezing in one more episode, before choosing to take a shower where you'd shaved, exfoliated, and washed your hair - hell, you even decided to do an in-depth brushing of your teeth as your peel-off face mask dried. Yet, you now were seated on your bed, laptop open as you tried to force yourself to keep your attention on the blank PDF document before you - you should have been tending to the essay that was worth twenty-percent of your grade, but you found yourself grabbing your phone and unlocking it, aimlessly clicking onto the dating app thats become an instant hyperfixation in your brain.

Swiping through what appeared to be another sea of useless men, you took a breath as you stopped on a handsome, yet deliciously rugged man with piercing baby blue eyes. Straightening your back, you subconsciously pressed your thighs closer together and you scrolled through his photos - fuck, he was hot. He was tall, slim, and worked in a restaurant that didn't take you long to recognize - he wasn't too far from you. Richie was his name, he was 45 years old, and he's a single dad - a divorcee.

This was all fresh, new, and raw territory for you. Not only were you seeking out an older man, the one who'd finally caught your eye was a father - but something about him drew you to crave him just a bit more. Maybe it was the bags of exhaustion that clung to his eyes, or the way that his gold chain clashed against his tan skin, or even the way his suit perfectly fit his slender form? All you knew was that it took one swipe, one millisecond and you'd made your interest in him apparent.

And in that same millisecond, his interest in you was crystal clear as your screen glowed in victory - you and Richie were now matched. "Oh my god," you mumbled, setting your laptop to the side of you as you flipped your damp hair behind your shoulder.

How does one start a conversation with a man she's attracted to, who just so happens to be significantly older than her?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck - okay," You muttered, sighing as you hastily tapped against your phone screen, the sound of your acrylic nails tapping against the glass, bouncing off of the thin walls of your bedroom.

A pathetic squeal left your lips as you quickly sent the message, before placing your phone face-down on your bed.

hi

-

Richie sat on his worn couch, a spare cigarette tucked behind his ear as he aimlessly ran his finger around the rim of his beer can. The thoughts in his ever so busy mind raced as he stared blankly at his television - his focus a wreck after yet, another intense and draining day at the restaurant. He was sat with his legs spread, his undershirt on full display, courtesy of his unbuttoned dress-shirt as his undone tie laid comfortably over each of his shoulders.

The older man let out a huff as he brought the beer can to his lips, allowing his head to roll back while he downed the rest of the bitter liquid. The abrupt sensation of his phone vibrating against his thigh caused him to slightly flinch as he placed the now-empty beer can onto his coffee table, "shit."

Running his free hand over the scruff of his beard, Richie unlocked his phone to reveal a notification from you. He'd subtly adjusted his back against the couch as he read over your message.

Richie was selfishly drinking you in from the moment his anxiety-ridden eyes fell on your photos. He'd quickly familiarized himself with all three: how plump your lips looked as you pouted for the camera, how perfectly your breasts were cupped by your lace top, and how your eyes bored into his as you posed before what appeared to be a webcam. It was obvious that you were younger than him, and sure, Richie has had his own experience with hooking up with someone younger, but that's all it ever amounted to - a quick fuck that never progressed into anything more.

You enticed Richie, to say the least. You wanted it all, he chuckled. He wasn't much of a devoted romantic, thanks to his failed marriage and seemingly rocky road of relationships that lingered in all aspects of his life.

Would you care that he had a daughter? I mean, fuck, Eva was his entire life - his motivation to keep going, even if everything else around him fell apart at the seams.

The older man cleared his throat, adjusting his hips once more, before typing his response, taking a quick look at the time displayed at the top of his phone screen, before sending.

It was 10:47 PM.

are u awake?

-

The hum of your phone vibrating against your comforter triggered you to pause your typing on your laptop. You couldn't help but blush as you bit down on the tip of your nail. He responded. Once again, your laptop found itself pushed aside as the bright light of your phone screen met your strained eyes. You nails carelessly clicked against the glass screen as you rushed to respond.

yes

Your heart steadily began to race as you watched the text bubble, indicating his impending response pop up on the screen. A small smile tugging on your lips as his response came into view.

are u real?

"That's fair," you mumbled, eagerly typing your next response.

yes ... do you want me to prove it to you?

A flash of nerves filled swirled at your core as you leaned your head against your headboard - what would you do, if he said yes? You were attracted him, despite having your reservations. There was a part of you that already ached for him, despite only knowing of his existence for not even an hour. Though majority of your psyche went rampant with nerves and fear, there was a small sliver of exhilaration and desire that slowly consumed you.

Your eyes widened with excitement as you screen glowed with Richie's response.

yeah ... just wanna make sure

You responded.

video chat?

He replied.

what's ur number.

You quickly typed in your phone number, before placing your laptop onto your lap and allowing some of your damp hair to fall over your shoulder as you adjusted your reading glasses to sit comfortably on the bridge of your nose. You hastily adjusted the hem of your shirt to sit over your thighs as your screen glowed with a video-chat request.

A short breath seeped through your lips as you allowed the call to ring for a few seconds, before allowing the call to connect.

A warm sensation of relief overtook you as Richie's face came onto the bright screen of your laptop. "Shit, let me fix this fuckin'-" you couldn't help, but smile as Richie adjusted himself to have be appropriately shown on camera, "okay, there we go", he spoke, his raspy voice like warm honey in your ears.

"Hi," You waved, breathing out a short laugh.

-

You were even more beautiful than your photos. There was something about the way your oversized shirt clung to your breasts, and the way you managed to adjust your glasses with almost every movement made that allowed Richie to feel his hand grip his phone just a little bit tighter. And your voice, god, your voice was laced with nothing but sweetness - Richie could tell that you were nothing, but good ... and that peaked a bit of fear into the back of his mind.

Clearing his throat, Richie spoke, "So, uh, you're real."

You laughed, "yes, I am real, Richie".

Fuck, he loved the way his name dripped off of your tongue, his perked up ears not missing the slight accent that laced your words. Richie's knee began to bounce - he was so fucked.

The two of you sat in silence for a beat, before you decided to break the tension, "I've never- um, I've never did this kind of thing before," you consoled, Richie's eyes not missing the way yours silently pleaded with him to say one cohesive sentence.

"I have, uh, they just-" Richie pauses, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, "they didn't end up going so well to be fuckin' honest."

You nodded wordlessly, indirectly beckoning him to continue his rant.

"I guess, um, I'm just glad that you're real and not one of those fuckin' nerds who sit on their computers and pretend to be pretty girls online." He thinks that you're pretty. Richie continued, his brash tone bringing a blush to your cheeks and you carefully took in the way his eyebrows furrowed when he voice his displeasure.

"But, uh, you go to college, right? That must be fun?" The older man questioned, doing anything he can just to be able to hear your voice fill the walls of his lonely living room.

"Yeah! This is my last year, so I'm pretty excited."

"Cool- that's cool, uh - d'you live with your parents or,"

"No, I have an apartment pretty close to the city."

A gorgeous and educated 20 something year old girl living alone in the streets of Chicago? Richie could drop to his knees - either he has become the luckiest man on earth, or things are about to go horribly wrong and for his sake - he hopes it's a stroke of luck. However, he immediately felt a need to protect you, to make sure that you're ... good.

You take note of the chest hairs that peek out from Richie's undershirt as he lays back against the couch and lowers his phone a bit, there's a part of you that aches to see more, yet you'll just have to settle for pressing your thighs together for a sense of relief.

Richie wants you and in his mind of minds that is crystal clear. But, he is a realist - he realizes that he is a 45 year old man with a kid and quite frankly, he has no time to waste and is a bit too old to continue playing the game of online dating that leads to nowhere. So, he has to ask you-

"Have you ever been with an older guy?" He speaks, his piercing baby blues searching your eyes for answers as he watches you shift your body.

You're unsure how to answer, the fear of your inexperience with dating older men poking at you, yet you decide on being honest - I mean, what is a relationship without honesty and trust?

"No, I, uh, I haven't." You answer, somewhat firmly.

"Well shit, I guess there's a first time for everything." He counters.

You smile.

The two of you let out awkward breathy laughs - you fiddle with your long nails as Richie runs a hand over his face. It's clear that you are both exhausted, yet neither of you are brave enough to say so ... you're both greedy and want nothing more than to soak in the other's presence. But, someone has to - and it won't be you.

"It's pretty fuckin' late and I'm sure that you have classes that you have to be up for and I gotta go to this fuckin' job in the morning, so I guess I will talk to you ..." Richie drones on, unsure on when you wanted to talk to him again - if you wanted to talk to him again.

"Tomorrow?" You ask.

"Tomorrow, yeah."

You bite your bottom lip with a smile, your voice low and sleepy, "good night, Richie."

Richie's knee stills - he's definitely fucked, "good night."

You disconnect the call, your heart pounding in your chest as you let out a breath that you didn't even realize you were holding in, to begin with. Richie was intoxicating, and you knew that, but you just couldn't seem to get enough of him. You'd just hoped that he'd feel the same way about you too.

Little did you know just how addicting Richie Jerimovich truly was.

-

hi <3 that's part 1 of this series - i hope it was not too long, i just wanted to lay the foundation of their initial reactions to each other so i hope you all enjoyed this - i can't wait to progress this story with you all

[wileys-russo]

Could you write something for Alessia where reader is her sister and gets her first england call up. I feel like less would be such a good older sister, slightly protective and over bearing but also just making sure reader is fitting in and has no trouble.

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

you'd been sat with a few of your club team mates watching a movie together at beths house when you'd gotten the call, shock written all over your face as you glanced down and saw the contact name.

"go! answer it." beth whispered with an encouraging nod as you hurried to your feet and raced out of the living room, hyper aware of the eyes watching as you did so.

accepting sarina's call the dutch woman got straight to the point. you'd seen her in the crowd at a few of the home games you'd started in, and sure enough she advised she'd been impressed with what she'd seen, offering you a spot at the next camp with the senior team.

she was honest in the chances of you getting minutes in the game against scotland were slim, but the opportunity to train with the senior team and absorb and learn was there and waiting as you eagerly accepted, sarina advising she would see you at camp before ending the call.

your first call was to your parents who were over the moon, promising they'd keep it quiet until the squad for camp was officially announced, though within a few seconds your phone lit up with a flurry of notifications as the news was put into the family group chat making you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

you stood to return back to your team mates but your phone lit up with another call, your sisters name and contact photo she despised flashing across the screen making you snicker with amusement at the unflattering 0.5 angle of her with bed hair and a scowl in high definition.

"hi less." you greeted with a chuckle. "you still haven't changed my contact photo have you?" the blonde sighed knowingly as you laughed properly looking at it again.

"of course not, and i won't be anytime soon unless i take an uglier photo." you teased as she mocked you under your breath. "you're such a little shit. but anyway, why the hell did i have to find out about your call up from luca?" alessia scoffed accusingly and you didn't need to be on facetime to imagine the stern frown which would be plastered across her features.

"because no one in this family knows how to keep anything to themselves, you especially." you rolled your eyes, sending a smile and a thumbs up to beth who poked her head in to check on you, the older girl sending you a warm smile back and retreating to the living room.

"i should have been your first call, i'm your only sister and i'll be at camp too. your first call up to the senior squad is a huge deal!" alessia lectured before dropping tone and congratulating you, the two of you having imagined for years what it would be like if you ever made the senior team together.

you were disappointed not to make the world cup roster but having the extra time to focus on football with your club had benefited you immensely in other ways, and you just needed to consistently remind yourself that everything happened for a reason.

you'd started off your professional career with a short term contract at bristol city, and after a year of starting and a semi successful season you were offered a three year contract with manchester united which had always been your goal.

alessia had already known of the offer before you did of course, ella and mary having to practically hold her down to stop her calling to pressure you into accepting the moment she found out.

but none the less it was an offer too good to decline for any club, let alone your childhood dreams of one day playing for united coming true and to get the opportunity to play alongside and see alessia every day.

the two of you fought tooth and nail growing up as sisters did and always over the most ridiculous of things.

but regardless of that and the near five year age gap you were always close, your relationship only strengthening once alessia went away to college and you weren't living on top of one another anymore.

you'd only played a single season with united, most of it spent on the bench or as an impact sub, but you loved the girls and found yourself falling hard for manchesters charm.

which is why the loan had been quite the shock, no real warning given when the club accepted an offer from spurs on your behalf, both you and grace traded with the hopes of gaining proper game time and starting minutes under your belts.

alessia had kicked off the moment it went public, first at you for not telling her and then at everyone else who would listen to her frustrations which you knew mostly stemmed from a worry of how you would go moving to a different place and a different team all on your own.

only, you weren't alone. with grace by your side you adjusted easily into this new challenge in your life, you and the midfielder growing even closer than you were when you were at united, and now you both found no trouble calling each other a best friend, attached at the hip and practically inseparable.

"-i'll come and pick you up friday for dinner for mums birthday. i love you!" alessia confirmed, clearing pausing waiting for you to say it back. "don't you dare hang up and not say it back you little shit." your sister scoffed as you grinned, forever finding it all too easy to get under her skin.

"love you lessi, see you friday!" with that you hung up, hearing the girls in the other room start to argue over what to order for dinner as you took a moment to let it all sink in.

you'd finally done it.

~

"you've got your kits yeah? and the tracksuits, and the training ones, and your socks, and your cleats, and you need to be careful you're not wearing anything that isn't adidas branded if you're being filmed or there's pictures taken by the social media team-" your sister lectured over the phone as you rolled your eyes and flicked her to speaker.

"-then you'll get the schedule when you arrive but i'll show you where everything is anyway. if we're not roomed near each other i'll still come and find you every morning and we can have breakfast before training and i'll run you through the daily schedules-" you started to tune her out as you flicked through your closet, humming every now and then to appease her.

"-are you even listening to me?" you only hummed again, completely checked out of the conversation now as you wrestled to get your suitcase closed. "oh my god you've got me on speaker and you've left the room again like last time. OI!" you winced and zoned back in as she shouted loudly.

"no! i'm right here idiot. but i know you love the sound of your own voice so who was i to interrupt?" you chuckled, grunting as you sat on top of your case and finally got it closed.

“ha ha ha, very funny. what the hell are you doing anyway? why are you grunting and groaning are you working out right now?” your sister questioned. “no! im trying to close my case, which i now have!” you sighed victoriously zipping it up.

“you haven’t finished packing?” alessia shouted as you rolled your eyes. “less.” you warned, muting her momentarily as she ignored you and started to rant and rave about how you needed to step up and be an adult.

returning a few moments later you unmuted her, catching her mid story of something you really weren’t all that interested in.

“oh no less you’re breaking up I can’t hear you!” you spoke in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm as you scrunched a piece of paper and made glitchy noises with your mouth.

“seriously? you can’t even just say you don’t want to talk anymore? you have to make up some bullshit excuse and-“ her words fell short as you clicked the red end call button with a chuckle, tossing the ball of paper over your shoulder.

you watched the texts fly in from her, unhappy with your attitude and warning you needed to be mature on camp which you silenced with a roll of your eyes, interrupted by your security buzzer going.

“sorry don’t want any.” you grinned as grace’s head appeared in the security camera, the girl pulling a face and flipping you off as you buzzed her in. “cars here! im not comin up, you’re comin down. hurry!” the brunette warned as your eyes widened and you rushed about making sure you had everything.

you jolted in surprise as a knock sounded on your door, flinging it open and frowning when grace stood there with a grin. “aih ya dickhead the car isn’t here yet it’s not even ten, too easy!” your best friend laughed pushing past you as she dumped her own bags by the door.

“you are such a wind up.”

~

“you nervous?” you asked grace, tapping her knee to gain her attention as the car turned into st georges park and she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

“nah not really. you shouldn’t be either! we wouldn’t have been called up if they didn’t think we wasn’t ready, and your sister is here anyway to look after ya.” grace reminded with a smile, pushing your head with a wink as the two of you rough housed for a bit before the car parked up.

“cameras rollin. how’d i look then?” grace fluttered her eyelashes making you grin. “ugly as ever. come on hillary!” you slid out of the car before she could retaliate, groaning at the nickname.

you knew from the way your phone had been blowing up that your sister was already here, having arrived earlier this morning with lotte and beth.

so it wasn’t any real surprise when you’d hardly stepped a foot out of the car and she appeared, hovering at the top of the stairs with ella plastered to her side who sent you and grace a grin and a wave.

both of you grabbing your bags you flashed a smile and fist bumped the media staff who were filming entrances as you and grace ascended the stairs.

“ready for your first camp girls?” you and grace both echoed back a yes, grinning at the camera before someone wiggled their way in between you both and slung their arms over your shoulders.

"big sister gonna look out for you then?" the staff laughed as alessia beamed and squeezed both you and grace tightly. "well she's got big shoes to follow, we've been working on her backheel." alessia joked, the camera crew moving toward the next van which pulled up which was full of the city girls.

"less get off." you huffed, grace wiggling away and tackling ella in a hug, the taller of the two dragging them inside in a headlock as your sister only gripped you tighter.

"absolutely not, roomie." the older girl grinned smugly as your face fell. "oh you've gotta be kidding me!" you groaned throwing your head back in annoyance.

"she's messin with you, we don't share rooms anymore on camp." a new voice sounded behind you as you managed to throw off alessia's arm and charge toward them. "mazza!" you cheered happily, launching at her as she caught you with a grunt.

"baby russo!" the girl cheered in the same tone before dropping you back to your feet. "just my actual name is fine thank you." you shoved her playfully with a roll of your eyes. "not this camp or any camp after, that is your name now. or we could go with B.R for short?" mary teased tugging on your ears.

"i'm quite fond of her childhood nickname." alessia chimed in with a smirk as you sent her a murderous glare. "don't you dare, or i'll spill one of your secrets. and we both know that i have plenty of them to choose from!" you smirked back as her face fell.

"rat." alessia muttered, nodding for you to follow her as she grabbed your bags and headed for the elevator to show you to your room.

"we'll talk later. you spill some of those secrets and theres more where this came from kid." mary whispered, sliding a tenner into your pocket with a pat and a wink.

~

you were mid dream when you first heard it, the repeated thudding which seemed to leak into your subconscious as suddenly you realized you weren't dreaming anymore and someone was knocking furiously on your door.

raising your head from your pillow you blinked groggily and rubbed your eyes so hard you saw stars, stumbling out of bed and tripping over the corner of the duvet where your foot got stuck in bed.

hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt the knocking stopped for a moment and you paused, unsure if you'd imagined it.

"for god sakes hurry up!" nope, didn't imagine it.

"what?" you retorted grumpily, mornings your least favourite time of day as you rubbed your face and your sister barreled in past you without so much as a greeting.

"go away alessia its too early!" you groaned, shutting the door and trudging back toward your bed. "you haven't even hung anything up? for god sakes this is a hotel this isn't your bedroom at home you can't just fling shit around and leave your mess everywhere like a tornado!" your sister lectured with a click of her tongue, busying herself picking things up and putting them away.

"i've not even been here for twenty four hours yet less surely that stick up your ass is gonna sting something terrible by the end of the week?" you grumbled, sliding back into bed as your sister shot you a filthy look at her shoulder.

"hilarious. but you have to be professional here and set a good reputation for yourself, especially your first camp. that means up on time, early for breakfast, one of the first to the pitch, extra reps in the gym-" you tuned her out, quite the expert at it by now, eyes slipping closed again.

"urgh get off!" you moaned as a weight settled on top of you, wheezing slightly as alessia made herself comfortable sitting on your back. "you have...forty six seconds to get up yourself before i drag you out of this bed by your ankles and we both know i will!" your sister threatened seriously, checking her watch.

"you're so fucking annoying. this is worse than when we both lived at home, at least then you also used to hate mornings!" you exhaled deeply, star fishing out on the bed as she wriggled and purposefully bore more of her taller form into you.

"twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." the blonde counted down ignoring your statements. "can hardly get up myself with you on top of me can i bigfoot?" you snapped, alessia rolling off of you and squealing as your leg kicked out to push her off the bed.

"right! three, two, one." and with that she flung the covers off, grabbing your ankles and true to her word yanking you out of bed, your body hitting the carpeted floor with a thump as she loomed over you.

"get dressed. if theres no pancakes when we get to breakfast i will be holding you personally responsible and you will pay for it!" your older sister warned, grabbing your top in hand and hauling you up to your feet, shoving a pile of clothes into your hand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

"stop manhandling me hagrid!" you snapped as alessia chose to ignore you, making your bed up and getting herself comfortable on top of it, scrolling through her phone as you snatched yours from the nightstand.

"hurry up!" you were trying to brush your hair back into something more presentable, face still puffy from your half asleep state as her fist thumped loudly against the door.

with a roll of your eyes you gave up, flipping your head and tying your hair up into a messy bun. poking at the bags under your eyes with a sigh, the impatient knocking continuing as you quickly covered them up with a few dabs of concealer.

"i hope you break your hand." you spoke in a monotone as you flung the door open, barely having ten seconds to step outside before her hands grabbed the collar of your jumper and dragged you out of the room.

"let go less! i'm not four years old trying to run away in a shopping centre for god sakes i don't need you to hold my hand i am an adult." you huffed, ripping your hand away from hers and storming off ahead to the elevator as alessia hung back for a second to wait for ella to catch up.

"might need this though? and everyone says you're the genius in the family." alessia held up your key card which was the only thing that allowed you to enter and exit the elevator, holding it out of your reach.

"say sorry for being so grumpy." alessia demanded with a smug smile as you tried to stretch for the card without luck, your sister always having had a head or two of height on you with her ridiculously long limbs.

"no! didn't you make a big song and dance about not being late for breakfast? because the only one making us late is you!" the older girl groaned as you punched her half heartedly in the stomach, snatching the key as she doubled over.

"mary she's tryna kill me!" you hid behind the taller keeper using her body as a shield as she joined you with grace in tow, alessia sending you daggers from across the elevator as mary chuckled but remained a nice protective barrier between the two of you anyway.

"alessia!" you protested as your sister snatched your plate, dumping what you'd already chosen and picking your food for you, pushing you away every few seconds with her spare hand as you tried to intervene.

"why are you such a mum? i can pick my own food!" you demanded which was dismissed with a flick of her hand, too busy chattering away to ella to pay you and your whinging any attention.

"you have to fuel your body properly and that means a balanced breakfast." the blonde lectured, holding your plate hostage in her hands as she walked off.

with your food held captive you were forced you to follow her as you sent grace a pleading look who only smirked and shook her head, sat at a different table than the one your sister sat down at.

"baby russo! where have you been hiding then? i missed you." lucy pulled you into a hug as you took your seat beside her and across from alessia who finally slid your plate over to you. "hiding from her!" you grumbled, stabbing your eggs and shooting alessia a glare who smiled and wiggled her fingers at you in a sarcastic wave.

you sighed and glanced down at your plate which granted was loaded, but not with everything you'd have put on it thanks to your sisters apparent new nutritionist qualifications.

your face lit up as mary joined the table, subtly dumping two hashbrowns and an extra piece of bacon onto your plate with a wink as she sat on your other side squishing you between her and lucy as the three of you fell into conversation.

"oi baby russo, sarina wants to see ya." you'd finished eating as millie suddenly appeared, nodding for you to follow her as your face paled a little, head swirling with a hundred worries of why she might want to see you, all of them negative.

"i can take her mills." your sister stepped in with a reassuring smile as millie headed off to grab breakfast. "come on." she stood with a flick of her head as mary squeezed your shoulder and stacked your empty plate on top of hers.

following after your sister you didn't speak a single word, holding your breath until you stepped out of the cafeteria and the noise and chatter of the team ceased, exhaling shakily.

"come here." your sister spoke softly and opened her arms as you settled into them, your own wrapping around her torso as she embraced you, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i know all you can think of is bad reasons why she wants to see you, but if you freak out and focus on all of the what ifs then you're going to ruin this opportunity for yourself before we even start." alessia murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"she probably just wants to check how you're settling in and go through the motions with you. so stop overthinking because i can hear your tiny little brain going into a meltdown." she teased lightly as you cracked a smile.

she let you go but her arm slipped over your shoulder drawing you into her side as she walked you down to the office, pausing a couple doors down and turning you to face her.

"i love you, sarina loves you, the girls loves you. this is your moment, grab it with two hands and make the most of it yeah? show them why you got called up and why you've earned a place on this team." her hands settled on your shoulders as if trying to charge you up with confidence as you nodded.

she might be overbearing, overprotective and over dramatic at the best of times. but alessia would always be your big sister and secretly, you'd never tell her this, without her you wouldn't be half the human let alone the footballer you were, and it flooded you with relief to take the plunge into this next step of your career with her by your side.

again you didn't dare to tell her that for fear of the relentless teasing that would follow. but you didn't need to anyway, she already knew, because sisters always know.

[coyotes-rules-of-change]

Dappr: Take Pride Filter

Some say a picture is worth a thousand words. We think this picture is a perfect in-progress snapshot of our new photo filter.

Introducing the new Take Pride filter. This may seem like some self-confidence-boosting cosmetic Photoshop effect, but we can assure you that the change goes deeper. What we have to offer is far more real than you can imagine. These guys were five frat bros who didn't have much to offer. Before this, they wore jeans and T-shirts advertising various campus and frat activities. As you can see, they are now shirtless, as we don't want to deprive them of thoroughly enjoying the transition to their new selves.

After removing the shirts, we don't waste much time before moving on to the body transformations. These guys weren't exactly overweight but weren't frequent gym-goers either. Their bodies have been slimmed and trimmed so they can #TakePride in what they have to offer the world.

The best thing about this photo is how well it demonstrates the third and fourth phases of our app's transformative sequences. After all, we encourage our users to #TakePride in themselves and their bodies, but also to #TakePride in their sexuality. Phase three is a change in clothing, and phase four is a change in attitude. The jeans they wore have slowly become shorter and shorter and have transitioned into beachwear. By the end of Phase Two, these gentlemen were all wearing board shorts. As phase four progressed, their swimwear marked their journey of acceptance by becoming speedos.

The first one here is a bit farther behind the rest. The mental changes for him are just beginning, and he is clearly a bit apprehensive seeing what's happening to his friends as they begin to come out to their new lives. Or perhaps he's just now starting to see his friends in a new light. The next three are close. Sometimes, as new homosexual urges take hold on the heels of cosmetic changes, our users have undergone phase four, becoming progressively more enraptured by their idealized bodies, not realizing that the hypnotic engagement is a result of their newfound attraction to men. That focus quickly breaks as it has for the gentleman on the far right. He's already deciding which of these hotties he wants to make out with first.

[ryanmarshallryan]

Pride Pool Party

Here is a vore story inspired by a scenario requested by @malebellyvore987

Nathaniel and Jonathan were having a lot of fun celebrating their first pride month together as boyfriends. They went to the local parade and watched all the fun floats go by, waving to their friends who were marching along among the floats. Nathaniel’s younger brother, Hector, had never been to a pride parade but had always wanted to go, so they let him tag along.

“I think Mario’s hosting a pool party sometime later today,” Jonathan mentioned to Nathaniel as they watched a gay men’s chorus march by blasting Chappel Roan, “did you wanna stop by for a bit? Maybe after we drop off Hector?”

Before Nathaniel could chime in, Hector who had been listening blurted out “Pool party! I wanna come!”

“Hector, this won’t be like one of your college frat parties,” Nathaniel responded, adjusting his sunglasses in the hot sun, “I think the dress code is speedos… or less.”

“C’mon we don’t have a pool, and it is soooo hot. I don’t have a problem with guys there assuming I’m gay,” Hector retorted.

“Yeah, but isn't this like your first pride? We don’t wanna overwhelm you too much,” Jonathan added.

“Guys relax, I can blend in. Anyways I’d spend most of my time under the water, not bothering anybody…” Hector replied, now beginning to pull his sweat drenched shirt off over his head, “but I’ll let everyone enjoy the view.”

“Gross,” Nathaniel joked when Hector revealed his skinny toned frame. Someone on a float whistled at him and Hector spun his shirt around over his head in response.

After making their way back through the crowds and taking the subway, they found their friend Mario’s apartment complex and headed over to the secluded pool area. 

The scene had been decked out in the vomit of a rainbow monster. Multi-colored streamers adorned the fence. A rainbow-sequined fabric was strung up near a box of props for photo taking. The pool was littered with rainbow and pool donuts, and the snack table was arranged as well with donuts adorning rainbow designs. Hector admired some particularly lewd posters hanging by a changing area, and saw a caption underneath that read like “Made by an actual, full-time gay man, not but some money hungry conglomerate that showers the world in rainbows only one month a year.”

Nathaniel and Jonathan found their way into a changing area, visited with Mario and chatted a bit, then dove into the pool to cool off for a bit and socialize with the other swimmers. Jonathan began to remark “where’s Hector,” when they saw a flash above their heads as Hector jumped over them in only his underwear and did a cannonball in the center of the crowd.

“Well, there’s your answer,” said Nathaniel, wiping water out of his eyes.

Hector stayed true to his word and began exploring under the water to get out of the heat. At one point he came up to Jonathan and Nathaniel and whispered, “I’ve never seen so many yahoos in my life!”

“Yahoos? You sound like you're twelve,” Nathaniel replied.

“Hector, maybe don’t stalk guys' junk from under the water,” Jonathan added, “It’s kinda weird.”

“Only admiring, don’t worry,” Hector said, then pointing to a guy across the pool, “He’s been doing it, too.”

“I think I’m gonna go dive into the pool,” Nathaniel said, searching for an excuse to leave this uncomfortable conversation. 

Hector nodded goodbye, then went off jumping back underwater and splashing nearby swimmers who were caught off guard.

Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that everything was going great, willing the universe to not let his brother mess up his pride pool party day. Apparently the universe had other plans. For the moment Nathaniel opened his eyes and lept head first to dive into the water, he saw a slim figure approaching from the depths of the pool, that was not his reflection.

It happened very quickly. Hector, who had been playing around sitting on the bottom of the deep end, then coming up for air at the last second, zoomed to the surface and opened his mouth as wide as he could to take in a big gulp of air. But instead he got a face full of his brother, Nathaniel, who slammed hard into the back of his throat, and kept sliding down with astonishing speed into his rapidly expanding stomach. Nathaniel felt his arms crumple against his body, as he was forced to curl up, tightly encased in the balloon of his brother’s stomach. Hector, had the wind knocked out of him from the unexpected gulp of Nathaniel, and experienced a short period of shock as he tried to suck in air but could not pull down his diaphragm. 

Jonathan swam over, planning to greet Nathaniel in the pool, and wiped the water out of his face to find Hector, who was now wheezing with his torso under the water.

“Hector, are you okay? Did you swallow a bunch of water or something?” Jonathan asked, concernedly.

Hector tried to respond but was still too out of breath to form words. But a guttural, mumbled and grumbling sound issued out of his throat. Hector took one more deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but instead found another voice issuing from out of his throat saying, “Oh he swallowed something all right!”

Jonathan looked down in surprise. He assumed the large view of Hector’s gut was simply an illusion of the light refracting in the water. He plunged under the water, opened his eyes to the stinging chlorine, and put his ear to Hector’s deformed and distended belly, which was forming the exact shape of his boyfriend in fetal position. He could hear frustrated grunting.

“Hector, you ate my boyfriend? You ate your brother?” Jonathan yelled in confusion.

Hector replied with a sheepish, toothy smile to show apology. “In my defense he literally dove down my throat,” Hector replied, now rubbing his tight gut.

“Regardless of how it happened, it’s time to get him out. Right now,” Jonathan tried to push on Hector’s stomach, but ended up just pushing Hector through the water to the shallow end. Swimmers they passed by stopped the conversation to gaze at the unexpected view of the tight man-filled belly emerging out of the water. “Nothing to see here people, unless you got some emetic drugs or something.”

Jonathan got Hector up against a wall of the pool and continued pushing, but that just made Nathaniel more uncomfortable, and as he tried to wriggle around to avoid being squeezed too hard by the stomach and added pressure of Jonathan’s hands, Hector moaned in discomfort as his insides were pressed tightly against his spine to make room for the comparatively gigantic mass in his gut. 

Next, Jonathan made Hector open his mouth wide again, and tried to shove his arms down Hector’s throat to grab Nathaniel and pull him out. This not only did not work, it had the opposite result, as Hector’s peristalsis kicked in and he began swallowing Jonathan as well.

Jonathan had just enough time to yell “I need a big strong bear to pull me out of this!!!” before his head was sucked in along with his arms into Hector’s powerful esophagus. 

By the time the bears had been summoned, Jonathan was up past his groin into Hector’s mouth and throat, and his arms and head had reached the stomach. Jonathan and Nathaniel got closer than they ever got before as they were crushed between Hector’s clammy stomach walls, with tingling stomach acid and sweat making it difficult to grip onto one another.

One of the bears reached his arms around the slender waist of Hector from the back and picked him up, with pressure on the lower half of Hector’s belly. Two other bears grabbed hold of Jonathan’s legs, which only the lower half of were showing outside of Hector’s mouth. Mario came over too and started chanting “1… 2… 3… Heave!!!” over and over again. LIttle by little, inch by inch, they pulled Jonathan’s body back out of Hector’s maw. Jonathan was trying his best to hold tight to Nathaniel, but as his head made it past Hector’s face, he felt his hands slipping. Luckily one of the bears noticed, grabbing onto Nathaniel’s wrist and pulling with a great might. 

Once Nathaniel and Jonathan were freed from Hector’s surprisingly powerful and durable stomach, the lot of them waded in the water with the bears, all catching their breath. The guys thanked the bears, who thanked them for an unexpected and interesting experience. One of the bears tickled Hector’s belly and joked that the little’s stomach was much bigger than his eyes it seemed. The other bear that had held Hector from the back gave Hector a slap on the butt, and swam on.

The last of the bears admired Nathaniel and Jonathan saying, “Hey if you two ever wanna have fun inside a gut that’s actually roomy enough to hold both of you, send me a message.” He pulled a sticky note pad and a pen out of his pocket and wrote his number down twice and gave it to each of them. The bear gave them a wink, and swam backwards, letting his belly rise above the water, looking like a whale coming up for air.

“How did that guy have a dry piece of paper in his pocket?” Jonathan asked.

“Honestly a lot of surprising things happened today and that’s the least of my concerns,” Nathaniel replied.

Jonathan held the paper up out of the water to avoid getting it wet, “Well, it could be fun to try something new.”

Mario dove into the water next to them and came to chat. “All right, Hector? Maybe refrain from eating these lads in the future,” he said, patting Jonathan and Nathaniel on the backs, “but if I run into any willing meals I’ll send them your way,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, no, that was all an accident, I didn’t mean to - wait, there are guys willing to - ” Hector began.

“Thanks so much for hosting, Mario. Sorry for my brother. He gets nervous and starts stress eating in crowds,” Nathaniel cut him off.

“No I don’t! Don’t make me - “ Hector began again.

“Well don’t just be food, come eat some! We’ve got a great buffet over by the changing rooms. And I mean eat as much as you can, I do not have the fridge space for all of this,” Mario implored them.

“I think I know a guy who could definitely help with that,” Nathaniel said, just before playfully punching Hector in the gut. “Race ya,” and they were off to the buffet to fill their bellies, and enjoy the rest of the pride pool party.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

jason getting his wisdom teeth out (or generally loopy on painkillers, like maybe post-mission or smth) and rambling abt how much he loves you and his life. adksjkfh sorry he's such a loser i love him to death

This was such a funny/silly idea I swear. Silly goofy cute husband stuff, I need this man 🧍🏽‍♀️

I did this draft at work and I didn’t have chance to look up reference videos, what you see is what you get 🌝

—

Time written - 9:18 a.m

—

“How’re you feeling?” You ask towards the large lump of a man casually sprawled over a majority of your couch, dressed in dark lounge clothes with a bandage tied around his right forearm. “Feeling alright?”

“Mm… No,” he answers. He’s still pretty loopy, his attention split between you and the ceiling above him. Maybe it’s the medication making him feel so relaxed, but he looks… content.

“No, wait. I- I’m fine,” Jason slurs, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “I’m perfectlyy fine.”

It’s funny; in an ideal world he’d be more embarrassed than he is, his words mumbled through small mouthfuls of damp, pink tinted cotton. Yet he’s so out of it he can’t care if you judge him or not.

Whether he would recall being hauled into an apartment elevator by Dick while you watched, probably secretly taking photos and videos would be a complete mystery.

Of all the ways you’ve had him the most vulnerable, this has got to be the best.

“How was work?” He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

Work? You question in your head, huffing a little bit. You rarely call in, but today was such a necessity. Thankfully you had an understanding boss, and an understandably reasonable friendship with the eldest Wayne son, who helped you carry such a large hunk of brawn and brain from your passenger seat towards your living room couch. You weren’t sure to play along or to break character to a play you weren’t aware you were involved in.

“Work was fine,” you say as you settle in between the slim spot available on the couch. He looks pretty comfortable there, but he probably would be happier in bed. “You sure you’re not in pain?”

“Mhm,” he grunts, closing his eyes as he tries to rest his head against the back of the couch. He looks as if he could fall asleep at any second, eyes half closed.

Jason looks up at you through slightly glazed-over eyes, his expression making it obvious that he isn’t paying attention to a word you’re saying. In fact, he looks a little surprised that you’re even sitting here next to him.

Something about you being so close to him is stirring up the medicated fog in his head. He can barely feel the stitches that he got earlier in his mouth, or how difficult it was to smile from all the numbing they’d done.

“You’re… right next to me.”

His murmured words are slurred, and they don’t make a whole lot of sense, but they make you smile.

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Just making sure you’re feeling okay.” Of course—he thinks you’re so beautiful, where did an angel like you come from?

“Just rest here for a bit, alright?” Your hand finds its way to his, squeezing his hand lightly. “Think Dick went to go get something for you to eat. Or maybe Alfred made something for you. I bet you’re really hungry, huh?”

Again, he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. His eyes peered down to his limp hand, seeing your slim, tiny fingers cradled along his open palm. Your skin was so smooth, so—

“Soft…” He mutters, making you scrunch your lips to refrain from laughing.

“Jason,” you attempt again. “You heard me?”

“Mm.. Yeah.” His gaze flicks back to yours, his head raising just a bit as if a teacher abruptly called his name in the middle of class.

“You look, uh, pretty.” He says, blinking once. “Today. Right now.”

Once more, it took everything in you not to laugh, recalling Jason’s insistence that he’d be perfectly capable on this kind of medication last night.

Oh, you were incredibly aware that he’s dealt with various stitches and removing bullets from his body, broken ribs and resetting bones back into sockets. And death. Sure, he’s explained he’s been on hardcore pain medication plenty of times, and how much it would’ve sucked if he was allergic to any of them. He’s Red Hood, he’s handled so much, he could basically handle anything.

However, as truthful as you understood, seeing him in such a state after removing one wisdom tooth was so … funny. Their were hundreds of other amusing descriptions to describe it, but in the end, it was all so very funny, seeing him all giddy like a little boy holding his schoolgirl crush’s hand.

Even though you’ve been dating for about five years. With a year break in between, give or take.

Maybe it’s because he’s so out of it. Maybe it’s all the meds they gave him messing with his brain. As funny as it was, it was also a relief to see him so relaxed, not as tense as he usually was. Especially during off days when he’d insist he was calm and collected, but the tension in his shoulders never dissipated.

“You look so pretty… Your hair, your eyes.”

His soft comment melts your heart, making you squeeze his hand. “Aww. You think I’m that pretty, Jason?”

Jason nods, smiling lazily at you. You lean your head against his shoulder for a short moment, mindful of his slightly swollen cheek.

“I’m sure you already know that, but… Yeah.” His hand raises yours upwards, a brief flush of heat spreading across his face as he plants a weak kiss along the back of your palm.

“Mm… you’re so gorgeous. I wanna tell you every day.” His voice trails off, eyelids getting heavier by the second, nearly hiding his heart eyes from you. There’s no hesitancy in his voice, no doubt to what he says. Just a simple answer, simple truth.

“So, are you feeling hungry?” You try again, reminding him of what you said earlier. If he was paying any attention. “Dick might be here any minute. He might’ve brought some froyo.”

He has a quiet hum, glancing back up at the ceiling again. “Dick. Dick’s always so thoughtful, y’know? Not as, uh, as much as you though. He’d never be.”

You cock a brow, fighting back any amused response. There it was, something unusually unexpected that Jason Todd would say about someone he insists he can’t tolerate about eighty percent of the day.

Dick being thoughtful? You’re positive the man is now in possession of lots of photos and videos of Jason during the car ride home after the dentist.

“I’m not hungry… but I’d love if you fed me.” His voice is soft, just slightly louder than a whisper.

Your eyes widen considerably, finally releasing a giggle after so long. You gave it your best shot, but your response was enough to make your boyfriend lightly laugh. His face winces, a low grunt leaving his mouth as his hand cradled his cheek.

“Awww,” you take his hand, feeling a little guilty for making him hurt. “I’m sorry, handsome. You can’t laugh for a while, did that hurt a lot?”

Jason gives you his best smile, which is admittedly a slightly goofy grin as he shakes his head, putting on a brave front despite the pain coursing through his head. “Nuh-uh. Not at all… Your hands are so soft, babe.”

You resort to a soft chuckle, trailing your fingers up to ruffle and smooth along his hair. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s slow to reply, clearly lost in thought with genuine, furrowed brows. If not for the medication, he’d probably kiss you right now.

The doorbell rings, giving you a chance to get off the couch and invite Dick in, who carried with him bags of food and frozen yogurt. Jason had no problem staying where he was, his eyes fully closed as his body sank back into the cushions, seemingly content with couch life.

“Catch him saying anything stupid?” Dick mutters to you as you ladle some soup into a bowl, hellbent on capturing any sort of evidence to use against the man for future purposes.

“Other than him believing I’m still his favorite woman, he thinks you’re a thoughtful older brother.”

“Oh yeah??” Dick chuckles, peering his head over towards the slumped man. “I’d think if roles were reversed, he would’ve left my ass on the curb.”

“Don’t be mean,” you scoff, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “You know he’d at least take you back home.”

“Inside a trash bag in the trunk,” Dick muses, casually leaning beside you on the kitchen counter. “You catch it on video?”

“Left my phone in my purse,” you shook your head, reaching into a drawer to get a spoon. “Stay for a while. See what happens.”

“Babe??” You hear Jason call from the living room. You peer your head out this time, seeing him fully sitting up from the couch, his head turned towards you with focused vision and deep concern written all over his face.

“Wait… weren’t you working today?”

[javiersprincess]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝚬.

tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, established relationship, pro soccer player kunigami, closet sex, fingering, making out, penetrative and oral sex hinted, jealousy and possessive themes, mention of unwanted flirting and physical touch - let me know if i missed something !

synopsis: what is kunigmai rensuke’s is kunigami rensuke’s, and nothing will change that even your stupid co-worker who can’t keep his hands to himself.

If Kunigami had it his way, he'd make it so you would never have to lift a finger. He’s overpaid doing what he lives for - going pro was everything he wanted, and it soothes an ugly green part of himself that knows he can provide for you. But you are too kind for that kind of life, you still try to pay for things despite how he always pre-pays for dinners or straight up takes your cards out of your wallet when you go out shopping. You work a normal job, something usual and consistent. You like it that way and he tries to respect that very much. 

He thinks he’s done an excellent job of it until you bring him to a corporate party and all that goes out the window. It starts normally enough, you show him around your office and it makes him smile that you have a framed jersey with his number on it, a poster of his team, and a framed photo of him holding you at a championship game - the first one of his pro career. It’s sweet, it fills him with such pride to know you carry him with you each day you clock into the office. He meets your co-workers - most are older than you as you are one of the newer hires and they all gawk over him with wide eyes and gasping lips.

You had told your office your boyfriend was a pro athlete but didn’t explicitly say your boyfriend and Kunigami Rensuke were the same. It didn’t bother him in retrospect, you’ve always been the quieter one between the two of you - all attempts for privacy came from you, and you never wanted Kunigmai to feel as if you were with him for fame or money.

You love Kunigami Rensuke with all your soul and it is there in the most subtle of ways that exist only for the two of you to bear witness to. The polaroid of your blacked-out silhouettes from New years on the back of your phone case and the locket around his neck that holds the photos of your engagement shoot that he kisses before he’s out on the pitch. The way you have a homemade book filled with recipes for when he goes on his diet to help him bulk up or slim down when the soccer season rolls around. The way he has a list of which chocolate and jam spread brands you like for when you have your cravings. 

These things, these actions are eternal in an otherwise epithermal world and Kunigami knows damn well that he does not stand for on the international stage to play for something like his country’s pride. He plays for you and for you alone, for the beading of tears that shine in your eyes whenever he succeeds - his pride is yours and his joy is yours too. And for the most part, you two have had your relatively peaceful love lives, your e  waits for the two of you in the summer of next year and it’s blissful in a way that he doesn’t have the words to describe. Maybe that’s why you always nagged him to pay attention in his Classics class, then he would have the words to describe all that he feels for you the way you always know what to say to him whenever he needs it.

And he would have all the words to say what he feels when he hears what your co-worker, a relatively handsome man your age, calls you - “Hey work-wife”. Kunigmai already does not like him, he feels the way you tense from where your arm is tucked into his elbow - he was raised to be a gentleman by a strict mother and an even stricter older sister who has been handed too many douchey men so she made sure to raise him right (He hears her bragging to you about his manners too many times to count when he brings you over for family dinners). He can see why you tense up because the minute you're on your own - you wanted to get something to drink and when he offered to get it instead, you gave him that pout that speaks to your want to do things on your own. It never fails to be cute to him so he laughs softly and lets you go with a nod of his head and a final squeeze of your hand. Any joy evaporates and tastes of ash when he sees your younger co-worker come up to you and place his arm around your shoulders - tugging you close, too close in his opinion which sours further when he sees how you tense under his touch.

He knows you, and he knows how much you hate anyone’s touch other than his own.

Kunigami is on his feet faster than ever and your work best friend sputters after him as their polite but meaningless conversation goes to dust as he leaves with a barely-there excuse. He is at your side faster than you can blink, long legs and speed training make it so. His hand is warm and familiar - firm as he loops it around your waist, tugging you until you are flushed to him, free from your co-worker’s touch.

“Wow, easy tiger - is this the infamous famous boyfriend? I thought you were fibbin’ about him bein’ a pro soccer player?” The man grins at you in a way that was supposed to be charming but looks more like a grimace and his accent reminds Kunigami of Karasu so he concludes he is from Osaka. Auburn eyes light into a blaze as he tilts his head, sizing up his prey and he is glad when he sees the other swallow thickly at the sight of him. Kunigami has always been imposing - with each centimeter he grows and each kg he gains it only adds to how easily he can intimidate the people around him.

So he delights when he sees how the other man’s confidence withers and dies, turning to bone and ash before his very eyes - it worsens when Kunigami can see the familiar glint of jealousy that burns like acid when Kunigami tightens his hold on your waist; drawing you closer to his side until he feels your warmth through your clothes. Kunigami’s ego only soars on two occasions when he scores and when he has you in his arms in front of someone who so badly wants what is so rightfully his.

Kunigami doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t have to, the other man knows the battle is lost. He never had a chance to begin with, not when your man is Kunigami Rensuke himself. You let him take you to the lobby of the building, far from the party and there is a look of distress on your face that Kunigami can’t stand - he has half the mind to go back to the party and punch your shitty coworker himself. With a quick sweep around the lobby, he snorts when his gaze lands on the opened coat closet that would be the perfect place to take this to where he wants. Still leading the way he pushes you inside it, locking the door behind him and he finds that it isn’t as cramped as he thought. It still lets him push himself up against your smaller form - crowding you against the wall in a way that he knows makes you tongue-tied.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask and he says a quick no because he’s not - jealous and possessiveness dance along his spine but that can wait until you are comforted.

“Does he always talk to you like that - touches you like that? When you don’t want to be?” He asks and he tilts his head so you can see a single searing auburn eye among the shadow of how his hair falls. You nod, bringing a hand to your face, and rub at your temples in exhaustion.

“Y-yeah he does - I thought it would go away if I started talking about you but when that didn’t work I started bringing some of your merchandise from home to here, you know to show that I’m dedicated to you and stuff.” You pause to take a shuddering breath as you remember how the man’s touch felt on your skin - stinging like acid rain and rancid like sulfur, you only wanted Kunigami to be able to touch you like that. He hums, leaning back against the door so that he can hear it creak a little under his weight.

“I thought - I already wanted to bring you along but I thought if you came he’d finally give up his stupid delusion of always flirting with me, calling me stupid things like his work wife and stuff.” You finish and your shoulders are by your ears like they do when you are about to cry so he draws near, wrapping a bulky arm around your tense shoulders. You are brought in close to where you can almost taste the notes of his cologne and all it does is make you nuzzle into his skin in the way you know tickles him. He chuckles into your ear and his hand that rubs at your shoulders relaxes you into his body.

“Guys like that are assholes, they don’t give up - thought you would have known that from being around me all the time and the team,” Kunigami mutters, throwing a tease in there to make you laugh. It’s to his relief that it does and you snort into the color of his shirt, your voice muffled against his strong body.

“You aren’t an asshole,” you defend him and he huffs amusedly at your claim.

“The others are - and I’m not an asshole to you.” He remarks pulling away just to look at you with a barely there smile that was a little too proud of what he is saying. You look at him with a stern expression, though there is some amusement in your eyes and he’s glad he still can cheer you up.

“Your teammates aren’t that bad, and neither are you.” Kunigami smiles slightly and butts his head with you like the way dogs do when they want your attention and your affection.

“That’s why guys like that always think they’ve got a chance with you - always so sweet even to shitty losers who don’t deserve it.”  You pull away to look up at him, raising a finger to point in his face with something stubborn in your eyes.

“You better not be put in that category of a shitty loser Kunigami Rensuke, you hear me?” You warn, voice firm and he smiles a little wider - the sort of self-satisfied and dripping in ego that he most reserves for being out on the field but he gives it to you too sometimes. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I got you, there's no way I’m a shitty loser when I get to take you home every night.” His smug reply and the rolling of your eyes are cut off by the heated kiss he presses to your lips. It tastes of him - the snowy peaks of his hometown and the fire of his veins you can only latch onto the front of his shirt when you feel his tongue slip into your gasping mouth. It feels right, it feels true Kunigami is the only man who is allowed to touch you, to taste you and that is how it must be. His hands don’t keep to themselves, they slip under the skirt of your dress. A simple long-sleeved dress but it makes him hungry all the same, gluttony and greed paint his hands as you feel them come up to the curve of your ass - his fingers follow the lace trail of your panties, stockings, and garters with the same worshiping haze of a devoted acolyte.

Devotion can be tasted and love can be felt as your hands do not remain idle, they are in his hair and cradling his jaw. When he pulls away Kunigami hates that he can’t sustain himself on you alone but your lipstick is on his lips and your perfume coils around him like a fog and he thinks that’s good enough for now. You’re panting, his hands haven’t stopped just because the kiss has and you whine something startled when you feel his fingers trace the gusset of your panties with something wicked in his autumn eyes.

“I thought you said you weren’t mad -”

“I’m not,” He says with certainty but there’s evil in the way he half smiles at you, “just competitive.”

 What you wish to say never comes as you gasp when you feel the skirt of your dress being rucked up and the too-cool air of your office dancing around your heated lower half. The garters squeeze into the plush of your skin and Kunigami can’t stop the groan that tugs from his chest even if he wants to. Rough fingers pull back the soft satin material of your panties, and your cunt weaves its silk webs of wanting that follow the damp fabric until they snap and his fingers are tracing the petals of your pussy with newfound hunger. The curls of your pelvis part and cling to your slick, Kunigami fights the urge to drop to his knees to lick you clean but this isn’t the place for that - the closet is too narrow and the walls too thin, they can barely conceal what it is he is doing to you now. Strong fingers find your puffy clit and you hide your whine into his beck, your form crumpling and shaking under the sudden but all-encompassing pleasure that laps at your ankles up to your neck. 

“You’re mine, yeah? Doesn’t matter what any shithead calls you - you’re mine.” His words are like magma that course through the earth and you can only nod and whine and nod some more with each declaration he murmurs into your ear as you lose more of your sanity in the flow and ebb of having your cunt played with. Kunigami is nothing but demanding and now that he’s shed his polite outer layer all he is left with is the beast within. He ensures to ensnare you with his claws as if there is anywhere else you would rather be.

 You feel his hair tickle your temples as his head turns - Kunigami twisting his head until his mouth is level with your neck - tender is the flesh and ripe for his white teeth to dig into the skin. You gasp, a third finger has slipped it along with the burning sting of his teeth digging into your neck you can’t help but sigh his name in utter adoration - “Rensuke!”

The fingers inside you curl and Kunigami sucks at your neck, the flesh darkening and flushing the same color as the lust shared between the two of you. Your chest aches, from your heart to the peaks of your nipples that grow tight still confide in your dress because this isn’t enough despite the burning twine of pleasure in your stomach.

You want for more - his tongue, his cock, and then his fingers again, it all feels so good; this does not feel like enough. Your words are clipped and breath but they reach him, your prayers for your lover of a god.

“Please - please Rensuke! I want more, please give me more!” You whisper to him, nerves fried and everything feels like a blur except for how your thighs tremble as the pleasure becomes more and more unbearable. His fingers, thick and long and so very cruel, keep their pace, curl inside of you the final time and you cum with his tongue in your mouth. It feels dirty and indecent - it could be because the setting of where your cunt was finger fucked into a haze is finally setting in but you can’t even put two in two together until you feel Kunigami’s hard-on pressed up against you. Your stockings feel soaked through from sweat and slick, your heels make you feel unstable and you can only blink up at him barely as he pressed his mouth to your ear again.

“You’re gonna go out there - say your goodbyes like the sweet thing you are with your cute cunt fucked by my fingers and with my marks on your skin. Get your things, take longer than ten and I won’t let you come all night long.”  A promise whispered, made with the following action of his hands following the curve of your ass as Kunigami smoothes down your pretty dress to give some decency after the indecent things both said and done in this small space. The prospect of punishment weighs heavy on the tongue but a part of him is delighted in your choppy nod and starry eyes. He opens the door but not without pressing a final kiss to your bitten lips and with a final reach of his hand to sweep your hair to the side - where the mark of his teeth screams all the possession he carries in his heart.

As you walk out of the closet with unsteady steps he can’t help but let his palm meets your behind in a quick swipe - it makes him half grin, a cruel tease as you jump and rub at your ass. Kunigami holds up the car keys and tilts his head in the direction of the parking lot.

“I’ll be outside - don’t keep me waiting.”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

DADDY'S BOY..

House - the episome of chaos and real meaning of messy Christmas. SAM MONROE lounged on the couch, with no care in the world, yet watching his mother zip Vinnie into the cutest little reindeer onesie you could ever imagine. Complete with tiny antlers on the hood and a jingly red nose.

Dear heavens above..

“There,” she stepped back to admire her work. “Doesn’t he look precious?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Precious isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Don’t be a Grinch,” his mom said, and before he could protest, she plopped a reindeer headband with matching antlers onto his head.

He immediately yanked it off as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. “No. Absolutely not. That’s embarrassing.”

His mother just gave him a small smile, now used to Sam's not-so-great behavior, before turning back to Vinnie, who was happily wobbling around, stealing all the hearts of his family. Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further - he knew he didn't exactly win arguments with her anyway.

After the Christmas dinner, house was quieter, more calmer. Sam sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, wrapping paper and ribbons scattered around him like a mountains of mess. Vinnie in his lap, still in his reindeer onesie, now playing with a small wooden train Sam had gotten him for Christmas - the greatest gift Sam ever saved money for . The antler headband—yes, the antler headband—was perched crookedly on Sam’s messy hair.

None was watching him anyway right?

“Alright, little guy,” he muttered, setting the presents he’d hidden earlier on the bed. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

He helped unpack each one carefully, moving those tiny, puffy hands of Vinnie over the wrapping paper before showing what's inside to the boy who was wide-eyed and giddy despite being on the verge of sleep. A wooden train set, a stuffed bear, and a few colorful building blocks—all things Sam had picked out himselfm

“Like these?” he asked softly, holding up the train. Vinnie babbled something and reached for it with grabby hands. Sam handed it over, watching as his son inspected it with intense and oh so precious focus.

At some point, without realizing it, Sam grabbed his phone and started snapping pictures, one after the other. Close-ups, full-body shots, candid ones of Vinnie laughing.

He had to admit, the kid was so cute it was almost criminal.

"Look at you, little dude," he murmured, watching as Vinnie babbled and clumsily pushed the train along the floor. "Cutest reindeer I’ve ever seen."

“You’re gonna hate me for these when you’re older,” he stole a kiss to Vinnie’s cheek. He clicked another photo, then another, then leaned in to press another kiss to his son's chubby face - not being able to help it all.

Vinnie squealed in delight, and Sam couldn’t help the smile treating to spill over his mouth. He kissed the boy’s chubby cheek again, his slim finger teasingly tickling him under the chin to escalate the full blown giggles he secretly loved so much to hear “You’re gonna break hearts one day, kid. But you’re not allowed to date till you’re thirty. Not on daddy's watch"

When Sam was flopping through all the pics and videos he just took, teasing yet proud smirk crossed his pink lips “And you’re definitely gonna hate me when I show these to your first girlfriend,” he whispered mostly to himself before lowering the phone to steal yet another kiss to Vinnie’s cheek.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed movement by the door - slight light peeking over his wooden floor, some features in the doorframe. He looked up to see his mom standing there, the door cracked open, her face glowing in some kind of pride, as if her all years of raising Sam finally gave her some peace, some feeling of achievement

“Mom!” Sam yelped, ripping the headband off his head and tossing it across the room as if it were incriminating evidence. He looked like a deer caught in headlights—ironically fitting. “No, get out! What the hell?”

“I wasn’t—” she started, clearly holding back her laughter.

“Out!” Sam groaned

His mom closed the door with a soft chuckle, and Sam sighed, turning back to Vinnie, who was now gnawing on the train.

Sam collapsed on the floor in all embarrassment and shame he felt. He closed the damn doors...right? He always does.

He sighed, before standing up to take the headband again and settling it back over his head before laying down again He couldn’t help but smile when Vinnie so clumsily managed to reach up and pat his cheek "Yeah, yeah. I know. Your dad’s a sucker.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @r0b-in

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Vil, Jack: a Strength that Shines

Ayyy, it’s the childhood friends (?) from the Shaftlands!! It feels like forever since we last got any significant interactions between Vil and Jack. Nice to see them chatting again~

bdjwvsjsGuabs THAT GROOVY THOUGH… Vil looks so judgmental and dismissive 😭 Channeling all his Mean Girl energy to diss Neige Snow White, lol

A Tale as Old as Time.

Four sides drew together to form a glittering box. A lovely maiden rested within the coffin-like casing of the photo frame. Her lips as red as blood, her hair as dark as ebony, and her skin as fair as snow.

She was circled by foliage, her sun-dappled face tilting up, disarmed by some distant call. The girl cupped her dainty hands together, housing a small baby blue bird in her palms. Kindness, goodness, grace—she exuded all of them.

Vil scoffed, tossing golden hair over his shoulder. Her smile was reminiscent of a rival celebrity, one pure as a dove's feathers.

So carefree, so cheery.

How irritating, he sighed.

"One ought to be more cautious in the woods. Who knows what dangers might lurk nearby, wishing to enact harm upon her.

"For a glamour shot though... Hmm, yes. This composition is acceptable. The sunlight is angled upon her face in a pleasing way—it casts a golden glow on her pale visage and highlights the highest points: cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. The impression is one of total innocence.”

A soft grunt sounded from beside him.

"She's... shining," Jack commented plainly. His critique, clipped. “Didn’t you do a photo shoot like this recently? Similar place and everything.”

Vil’s beauty was momentarily marred by a grimace. “Yes, as promotional material for an upcoming film. However, the feel of it was completely different than what you see here.”

Shadows instead of sunlight. Temptation in the place of innocence.

He, poised amid the creeping branches and dark leaves, a tatter cloak clinging to his curves. A single, crimson apple in his grasp, a sultry look directed at the camera.

He tried to picture himself like the girl in the frame countless times over. Kneeling among the woodland creatures, smiling so serenely. Any pro could pull it off—he included.

But the image never turned out right in his mind.

Not the right amount of sweetness, not natural enough.

Not quite the same.

Not at all.

Blood, sweat, tears. Sacrifices made at the altar. Yet still, the world yielded nothing but broken promises and shattered dreams. The splintered parts and shambles of them, he gathered, forming his own makeshift hope and determination.

He couldn’t give in here.

Vil’s perfectly groomed brows scrunched up.

“I shall have to endeavor to work even harder. I’m not satisfied with things as they are now.”

“Heh.” Jack cocked a small, lopsided grin. “Keeping on the grind… That’s just like you. You've got this."

“Obviously. Nothing will get accomplished otherwise.” Vil’s eyes passed over to the beastmen. “Presumably, you are doing the same."

"Yeah. Haven't skipped a day of my training regimen." Jack slapped a hand on his bicep, which fit snuggly in his glittering white sleeve. "We'll take out RSA next track and field meet!"

"I'd certainly hope so. If I am to taste sweet revenge, I'd prefer it be by my own hand... but I trust you to deliver in my place. I expect good news when next we speak. Do not disappoint me."

"Yessir!" Jack's tail wagged enthusiastically. He stood alert, saluting like a loyal knight. “I'll do my best!"

“Then it looks as though we both have our long-term goals set.” The dorm leader planted his hands on his waist—slim, cinched.

"Yours is...?"

"To surpass myself." Vil jerked his chin toward the girl in the painting. "To shine so brightly that my name not only goes down in history, but overshadows that which was written before."

"That's some big dream you have." Jack shook his head. "The scale's beyond what I can imagine. But knowing how stubborn you are, Vil-senpai... You seriously won't quit until you make that dream come true."

"My, my. Stubborn, am I?" He smirked, arms crossed. "I do believe it takes one to know one.

"You stand back and watch. I'll show you just how dazzling I can be."

His eyes held a steeliness to them. It was matched only by the same in Jack’s. Two strong men and their wills, meeting on equal grounds.

Jack simply nodded—an acknowledgment, an acceptance, of his upperclassman’s confidence. Overwhelming, like a powerful wave, a strong storm, a blazing inferno. He almost felt compelled to drop to one knee, to kneel before such a presence.

Vil turned away from the painting, his arms unraveling from one another. His movements were graceful, nearly ballet-like. And his expression—

Jack caught him mid-laugh. The snooty, airy kind, half-sincere, half-sarcastic. Brows upturned, mouth twisted in a faux sympathetic smile. Flaxen waves framing his lovely features.

His lips moved.

“I’ll topple you from your throne,” Vil vowed.

It was then that Jack noticed.

Vil-senpai's shining like the fair maiden.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, hope you'er having a good time. Whatever time it is right now. I wondered if I can request 141 team x male reader who is a mercenary like in the game hitman for example. So they meet up or there are searching for him. Maybe just escapes everytime or outsmarts them. Working together with reader and they are scared of him. Because he can throw Ghost around and is very stealthy. Has perfected his craft and kill them with anything he can get his hands on. I hope good and have a nice day.

Okay, so never played hitman, but I have seen it so I know what you are talking about. I think I might have to play it. Who knows.

Summary: (Y/N) is the nightmare of 141 task force

Warning: author didn't play hitman but watched it, guns, violence, everything that goes with Modern Warfare, (C/N) = code name

Price sighed as he walked towards the meeting room. Laswell had some information on their enemy. He was a mercenary, one of the best in the world.

" Hello everyone. Lets get started. " Laswell said as Price sat down. She pulled up (Y/N)'s photo.

" We might have known whereabouts about (C/D). I have to warn you, the chances of finding him are slim. Somehow he always gets out. I don't think I need to tell you to watch out. " Laswell said, taking a cigarette out.

" Just how much we know about him? " Ghost asked, looking at the only confirmed photo of (C/D) on the screen. Those eyes seem empty and calculating.

Ghost had no doubts that (C/D) wouldn't hesitate to kill them all.

" We don't know anything about him, but one thing is certain. " Price said, looking at his team. " He won't hesitate to kill us. He has perfected his craft. " Price said, a solemn silence falling around the room.

" Where do we think he is? " Soap asked, tapping his fingers against the table. The energy has fallen very low, almost to gloomy levels.

" Mexico. Nowhere near Las Almas, thankfully. Alejandro and Rudy are busy so they won't be able to help you. " Laswell said, taking a long drag and coincidently the last drag of her cigarette.

" We are going in a couple of hours. " Price said, rubbing his beard with his hand.

" Any special advice to prepare for this mercenary? " Gaz asked, worry evident his voice. Soap nodded, agreeing with Gaz's question.

" You have to be there mentally. " Price said. Everyone nodded, knowing that there was no way to prepare themselves. It was going to be very dangerous and there was no way to tell how this mission was going to end.

The silence was heavy in the plane. Nobody dared to say anything, everyone was nervous. Soap was bouncing his leg, Gaz was sweating like never before. Ghost was, maybe for the first time ever, was scared in the field. And Price?

There was a bad feeling brewing from within him. Everyone witnessed in some way how brutal and efficient he could be. How ruthless... Merciless...

John shook his head. It wasn't good to think about. Despite the fact that he could use everything as a weapon... That was kind of concerning.

But they could persevere. They could win. All they need is some faith and a miracle to do so. The chopper dropped them off near a house. Well, it was more houses, but they were apart, around 10 meters from each other.

They would have to split.

" Gaz, you are with me. We will have to take the first house. You two take the other. " Price said, getting out of the chopper.

There was a chorus of yes sir and they split up. Everyone was on high alert. They watched their backs, knowing how (Y/N) could be a stealthy bastard. It was quiet over the comms, everyone knowing that they needed to be quiet.

A single mistake could cost them their life.

Gaz and Price moved quietly through the house, stopping at the basement door where they saw blood. Gaz and Price looked at one another. They gripped their rifles tighter and Price slowly opened the doors. The stairs were covered in blood and the smell was just horrid.

They both wanted to gag. Gaz called it in and they moved down. One of their targets from another mission was here. Their target was supposed to be dead. What was he doing here?

" Be careful Gaz. " Price whispered, moving deeper into the basement.

" Rog sir. " Gaz confirmed quietly.

Eventually Price managed to reach the light switch. He turned it on and it was a ghastly sight. Bodies just laying down dead. The worst of all, there were no signs of struggle.

Gaz felt a shudder go through his body and both of them freeze when they hear somebody walk above them. Ghost and Soap would have called it in. Gaz and Price shared a look before moving upstairs, back on the ground floor.

(C/D), standing there, nursing a cup of something.

" Captain. Sergeant. " (C/D) said, raising his cup.

" All right, drop down on your knees and show us your hands! " Price said, making (Y/N) look at him blankly.

" You two realize that I can kill you with this cup, right? " (C/D) said, clearly not impressed.

" What do you want? " Gaz asked, making (Y/N) put the cup down.

" I have a proposition. But I need the other two here too. " (Y/N) said, leaning back on the kitchen counter. Price could see a knife strapped to his thigh, not to mention a gun, tucked in the lower back of (Y/N).

Gaz called Soap and Ghost and those two came in record time. Ghost and (Y/N) stared at one another. Ghost wanted to jump him, but he knew better. (Y/N) was better than him, better than the four of them combined.

" What is happening? " Soap asked, confused to see (Y/N) so relaxed. It was eerie.

" I wanted to give you guys a proposition. " (Y/N) said calmly, looking at the task force.

(Y/N) waited for a moment before continuing, " I will work together with you guys. I will live on the base under your supervision, but there is one condition. " (Y/N) said, watching various reactions. Shock, suspicion, wonder...

" And what would that be? " Price asked.

" I get to have my privacy. I will be on base, but I want my privacy. "

" And what do we get in return? " Price asked.

" You won't be afraid of me anymore. You don't think I didn't see the fear in your eyes when you saw me? Not to mention that you will have a great asset on your team. " (Y/N) said.

Everyone looked at one another, clearly thinking. (Y/N) wasn't wrong in any way shape or form. They feared him and the fact that they might have him on the team...

" Okay, you are coming with us, now. " Price said, nodding his head towards the chopper outside.

" Just don't cuff me and we will be fine. "

Everyone entered the chopper and started flying. It was definitely tense and Gaz broke the silence.

" Is true that you could kill us with the mug? " Gaz asked, gathering attention from everybody.

" Yes. Everything is weapon. I could kill you with a bobby pin. " (Y/N) said, shrugging his shoulders.

The chopper fell into silence once more. This was going to be interesting... Partnership.

" Price, remind me again, why do we have to spar with (Y/N)? " Soap asked, watching as (Y/N) got ready to spar with Ghost. It was going to be the showdown of the decade. And the biggest showdown in the history of this base.

" Because you need to know what you need to work on. Believe it or not, he knows a lot. " Price explained.

" Oh my God. " Gaz said. (Y/N) turned his head to look at Ghost, looking at the weak spots that the big man might have.

" Wait, why did you kill our previous target? " Gaz asked, remembering the bodies.

" I went rouge. He was... A problem to me. So I got rid of him. He died slowly, just like he deserved. " (Y/N) explained, looking at Gaz.

Gaz nodded, moving away from the ropes. Ghost and (Y/N) walked into the ring. Ghost would rather die than admit this, but he was very nervous.

Price whistled and the two started sparring. Well, (Y/N) sparred. Ghost was thrown across the ring with absolute ease. Soap's jaw fell down onto the floor.

Oh my God.

Price didn't know what to say. He tried to, but no words came out. Gaz had to sit down on the floor. And poor Ghost? He just laid there... In pain... Not physical, no. His pride was hurting. And so was his reputation.

(Y/N) just wiped his hands.

" Okay, I think that this cooperation is going to go well. " Price said, clapping his hands together.

Ghost just grunted from the mat. Soap sighed and Gaz stayed silent. (Y/N) snickered quietly. Yeah, it's going to go well.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Pining Katsuki | BKDK Headcannon 💚💥

It's 3am and Katsuki can't sleep.

He's thinking back to training earlier, when the two were sparring in one of the school's gyms. Izuku had tripped backwards over some debris from one of Katsuki's explosions. In a rush, Katsuki reached forward and caught Izuku around the waist.

Time had seemed to slow down. Katsuki remembers that he had instinctually wrapped an arm behind Izuku's head to cushion the fall. When they had hit the ground, Katsuki felt the hard impact on his arm and elbow, but luckily Izuku was safe and sound - wrapped in his embrace.

They had stared at each other for a moment - nose to nose. Izuku's face burned brightly - his adorable freckles lost in his flushed cheeks.

"Hey guys - get a room!" Denki called out from the sidelines, breaking the moment of tension. Katsuki roughly disentangled himself from Izuku, shoving his green haired classmate away, as he had stumbled to get to his feet.

"Watch it, Deku! Pro Heroes can't be clumsy as hell." He scowled, waiting for Izuku to get to his feet so they could resume their mock fight.

"Thanks for catching me, Kacchan!" Izuku had sputtered out, getting to shakily to his feet and starting to power up again.

Katsuki had ultimately won the fight.

He turned over the moment again in his mind - the way his hand had felt gripping Izuku's slim waist. The way tucking Izuku into his chest had felt so natural as they were falling.

Now, in his dorm room in the middle of the night, his face burns hot as he thinks about laying over his childhood friend - nose to nose in the heat of battle. What would have happened if he would have...

Katsuki shakes the thought from his mind before it can fully form. He whips out his cell phone and quickly opens up one of Izuku's social media pages. He does this every once and a while - when his feelings are all mixed up and he can't decide if he likes Izuku, or if he hates him. He likes scrolling through Izuku's Instagram page the most. He always rolls his eyes as he types in his classmate's IG handle - AllMight89. "So lame, Deku." He whispers under his breath as the page loads onto his phone screen.

Katsuki starts to scroll through image after image of Izuku. There are so many photos from the past year at UA - pictures of Izuku with classmates and Pros. Katsuki scrolls back a few months to one of his favorite pictures - a close up of Izuku at the beginning of the Sports Festival after he had won the obstacle course.

He loves the way Izuku's face shines with pride as he looks out into the stadium full of people, basking in the glory of his win. His curly green hair is absolutely wild and his UA uniform is charred from navigating the minefield. He looks so...goddamn heroic. Looking at this picture makes Katsuki's heart squeeze in a way he doesn't like.

When he's too tired and can't police his thoughts, he imagines Izuku looking at him that way - proud, exhilarated. What would it be like, to be the sole focus of his friend's intense gaze? To have it be just the two of them, alone. Would the world fall away? Would all of the unspoken things that Katsuki wished he could say come tumbling out of his mouth? Would he be able to apologize to Izuku for all of the goddamn bullying he had subjected his friend to in order to hide his terrifyingly intense feelings? He wonders if Izuku knew how he felt...could he ever forgive him?

Katsuki keeps scrolling through the page. Every once and a while, he clicks on an image to expand it and see Izuku's bright face as it takes up the length of his phone screen. He does this for a bit, zoning out as he clicks through the images. He's pulled from his mindless scrolling when his phone buzzes with a new text...

...It's from Izuku.

Katsuki checks the time - 3:45am. Why would Deku possibly be awake at this hour!? He hastily clicks open the text to read -

Um Kacchan - why did you just like one of my photos from 8 months ago on Instagram?

Katsuki's heart plummets. The hell? Hastily, he scrolls back up on the Izuku's profile grid. His eyes dart across the screen until he finds it. There - he's accidentally hearted a picture of Izuku celebrating his last birthday with his mother. The image is sweet - Izuku is blowing out a cake full of candles as his mother looks on with pride. They are both adorned in triangular All Might party hats. Just a few minutes earlier, Katsuki had thumbed through the picture and briefly smiled at the look of joy on Izuku's face. Now he looked down at his phone screen in abject horror at the tiny pink heart his tired fingers had accidentally awarded to the image.

DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT

Hastily, he unlikes the image - but it's too late! The damage has been done. He thinks the best way to get through this is to deny everything.

The hell you talking about nerd? Leave me alone it's 4 fuckin' AM.

Katsuki's rolls over in bed, panicking as he sees the three dots pop up on the screen to indicate that Izuku is typing. An image appears on the screen - a screenshot of an Instagram alert "Katsuki99 liked your photo."

"SHIT!" Katsuki yells out angrily, tossing his phone to the ground. He doesn't know what to do. He's embarrassed and mad and secretly happy that Izuku has texted him in the early morning when the rest of their class is no doubt asleep.

He sits in his bed, glaring at his phone that is now laying on the carpeted floor, abandoned. What the hell should he do!?

Suddenly, the phone screen lights up, casting a fuzzy glow in the pitch black room. Katsuki scrambles out of his nest of blankets and drops to the ground, grabbing the device up in shaky hands.

It's not a text this time, but an Instagram alert.

"AllMight89 liked your photo."

Fingers quaking, Katsuki clicks the alert and it takes him to Instagram. A few moments later, he sees that Izuku has liked one of his own posts from earlier in the year. It's a photo of Katsuki standing in front of UA on one of his first days of school. He's staring down the camera - mean mugging in his brand new school uniform. The caption simply says "Pro Hero in the Making."

Katsuki remembers making the post - he had been so excited to put on his crisp new uniform and to start taking classes at his dream school. He had made his mother take the photo, happy in the moment even as she roasted him for having such a nasty look on his face.

Katsuki clicks back to his alerts. AllMight89 liked your photo. His chest fills with warmth at the statement. His phone buzzes with a new text - from Izuku again.

That's my favorite photo of you.

Katsuki's heart does double time in his chest as he stares at the message. He has no idea what to do or say. After a few agonizing moments, he taps a hasty reply back.

He types out "You damn nerd." But what he means is: "I love you."

Izuku doesn't reply, and Katsuki is unable to get a wink of sleep for the rest of the night.

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Thanks so much for reading!! Check out my other 🌶 <spicy> 🌶 BakuDeku fics on My Master List :)