#smile-no-matter-wat

[obsesssedblerd]

Part Four (2): “I promise, I’ll make this right.” 

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary. 

final [second] written part of this smau series. 

Pt. 2: Choso, Shiu, and Gojo

Contains: angst to comfort 

a/n: and here’s the last, last part with the remaining characters! again, thank you so much for being so patient! <3 once again, sorry for any mistakes! 

---

CHOSO 

Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were actually ready to confront Choso, but you know that it’s time. You stand in front of the door to his house, and knock. You wait for less than a minute, then the door opens to reveal Yuuji on the other side, rubbing his tired eyes. His pink hair was messy, so you know that he woke up from a nap not too long ago. 

When he registers that it’s you, he gasps loudly, then holds up a hand and smiles nervously. “H-Hi! Um, wait just a minute, I’ll grab him! Please don’t leave this spot.” 

“I won’t leave, Yuuji.” 

His smile falters a bit. “No, seriously, please don’t. Me, Cho, and Megumi couldn’t find you for days.”

You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I promise,” you say slowly, “I won’t leave.” 

“Good. Be right back.” He gives you a thumbs up, closes the door, and you hear him scream from behind it, “Choso!! CHOSO!!! She’s outside, so stop blasting your sad music and get down these damn stairs!! No, I’m not kidding, why would I do that?!” 

You blink in shock, then Yuuji opens the door once more to smile sweetly at you. “He’ll be out in just a moment.” 

“Uh- Alright, thanks.” 

Not too long after, Choso appears. You can immediately tell that he hasn’t been sleeping much the last few days. Other than that, he looks relieved to see you there. He reaches towards you to hug you, then stops himself, remembering the situation. “Hi,” he quietly greets. 

“Hi. Walk with me?” He nods, and you two walk side-by-side to a nearby park. You let the silence drag for only a few minutes before you ask him the question that’s been weighing on you for the last couple of days. 

“Be honest. Before we got together, did you want to date Yuki at one point?” 

Are you only with me because you weren’t able to get with her? 

Choso stops in his tracks, and looks over at you, eyes blown wide with shock. “No. Never. We’re just friends, like I’ve told you before. I know it seems like-” 

You hold up a hand. “Cho, please just understand where I’m coming from. The-” 

“I do understand,” he says desperately, taking a step closer to you. “Of course I do. That's all I’ve been thinking about. I chose to hang out with her instead of you, numerous times. It’s unfair to you, I know, but I swear-”

“I feel like you love her.” Your biggest fear of your relationship flies out your mouth, and tears rush to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “Every single time, it’s her. It feels like it won’t matter how special something is—like our anniversary—because you’ll run to her the second she asks you to hang out and completely forget about me.” You take a breath and exhale slowly, trying not to make yourself look even more pathetic. “I’m tired, Cho.” 

“Listen to me. I do not love Yuki,” Choso says slowly. “Not now, not in secret, not ever. I am in love with you. You’re the one I want to wake up next to every morning, you’re the only one I trust when it comes to helping my siblings, and you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He scoops your hand into his. “There’s no way in hell that I would choose her or any other woman over you, so I’m begging you, please get that out of your head.”

Before you can use a sleeve to wipe your tears, he wipes them for you, then uses his hand to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. You spent so long planning the dinner for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it like it was nothing. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better boyfriend. So, please, let me have another chance.”

You notice that his eyes are also watery. You’re about to point it out, but he hugs you tightly before you can, his body slightly trembling. “These last few days have been killing me, because I’ve messed up so bad to the point where you think I’m in love with another woman, when you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my  life. I don’t want anyone but you. I could never choose anyone over you. I don’t care who they are.” 

He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “Please,” he repeats once more. 

“Never again, Choso,” you mutter shakily. “I mean it.” 

He sighs in relief, then kisses you. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Walk back with me? I have your present back at the house. Then, we can plan another dinner, and something special after that.” 

---

SHIU

When you enter the hotel room, you see Shiu Kong there, leaning in the chair with a light, but nervous smile. “Hey, princess.” 

The door shuts, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone anymore, so I found a different way to track you.”

Your brain whirrs with multiple possible scenarios, then you roll your eyes when you figure it out. “You asked Toji, didn’t you?” Your work partner was the only one who knew your location.

“I had to blackmail him in order to find out where you were. It wasn’t easy.” 

You give him a fake smile. “Well, I don’t really care about that. You should leave.” 

“No.” 

“Shiu. Don’t piss me off,” you warn. “Go.”

“Not until we talk.” 

You cross your arms. “It’s either you leave, or I will handle you the same way I’d handle any person that comes into my room without my knowledge or permission.”

Shiu holds his hands up. “I’ll let you shoot me after I apologize.” 

“You’ve already apologized plenty over text. I already told you that I’m done. I’m better off focusing on work, and you’re better off just hanging out with your friends.” 

“Can you stop saying that shit? Baby, please, I swear that missing our anniversary dinner was a horrible mistake, and I’ll never make it again if you give me another chance.” When you don’t answer, he sighs desperately, taking a chance with his life and walking over to where you’re standing. “I’m sorry, princess. I completely understand why you’re pissed, and like I said, I’d let you shoot me if it’ll make you feel better. However, I will say that I can’t let you go. I love you.” 

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I don’t think you understand how awful it is knowing that your boyfriend chose a random night of drinking with his friends over a romantic dinner that you spent weeks planning. It makes it hard to believe that you even like me, let alone love me.” 

“I understand why you’re doubting my feelings for you. Anyone would after their lover forgets their anniversary. But I promise, I do love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll show you. I’ll make you feel it. Please give me a chance to fix this.” 

“...But what if you don’t?” 

“Then I’ll let you kill me, like you’ve killed your other boyfriend after he fucked up and broke your heart.” When you raise your brow in question, he answers you, “Toji told me about that when he warned me to leave you alone earlier. Not taking his side at all. Heard he was an asshole, anyway. But, I’m serious. If I don’t do better, and I hurt you again, I won’t run or fight back when you come to kill me.” 

“Shiu, I don’t want to kill you,” you say, slightly frustrated. “I just want you to care more.” 

His thumb brushes underneath your eyes. You didn’t even know that you started crying. “I know, princess, ‘m so sorry. I promise, I’ll never make you cry again, and I’ll be better.” He’s relieved when you allow him to hug you. “Come home, okay? We’ll talk more there, and then I’ll start making this up to you.”

You nod, then rest your head on his shoulder. “You do know that Toji’s more than likely going to kick your ass for blackmailing him, right?” 

“You’re in my arms again, so it was worth it.”

---

GOJO

You’re speeding through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. An hour ago, you got a text from Maki, your precious second-year student, telling you that something bad happened and that you need to come to the school quickly. 

“Maki, I’m here! Are you okay?!” You shout as you burst into the empty classroom. You find her, and you tilt your head in confusion. 

She looks fine. In fact, she’s standing next to a Yuuta Okkotsu, who looks like he’s about to vomit. “S-Sensei! I-” 

Maki cuts him off with her usual, sharp glare. “Not. A. Word.”

Inumaki and Panda are also there, and across the room, the three first years are standing stiffly. 

Something’s up. 

“Okay,” you say to the students as you cross your arms. “What on earth is going on?” 

Nobara looks over at Yuuji, who’s sweating nervously, and raises a brow. “Um… Haha,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Kugisaki. H-He should be here any second, I swear!” 

He? 

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo teleports in. “What’s going on?” He asks as he looks over at the students. “I didn’t see a threat outside of the school. Yuuji said something bad happened?” 

“Great!” Nobara claps her hands together. “You’re both here!” 

Satoru goes quiet, and you raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” 

Maki points to you and Satoru. “You two need to talk.” 

“...Sorry?” 

“You two need to talk!” Nobara repeats Maki’s words. “Listen, we can’t stand having our two favorite teachers separated like this. [Y/L/N]-sensei has been gone for days!” 

“Plus, Gojo-sensei, you’ve been super stressed!” Yuuji shouts in defense. “Fushiguro says that you eat a lot more sweets when you’re stressed. You ate two packs of those mini cupcakes, plus the brownie that Nanamin gave me!” 

When Satoru looks over at Yuuta, he throws his hands up. “No, no, please don’t look at me like that! I voted against this! I said that w-we should probably give you two some space to figure it-” Inumaki slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“We’re just… worried,” Megumi mumbles. 

“Yup!” Panda shouts. “Very worried, and that’s why we came up with a plan to get you two back on track. We’re going to lock you two in this room, and you’re not coming out until you’re happy and in love again!” 

“Because you two are supposed to be together forever and get married and invite us to the wedding!” Yuuji pouts, and the rest of the students voice their agreements. 

You can’t believe it. They set you up. Your mouth falls open in shock, and the students all walk outside of the classroom. Maki and Nobara are the last ones out, and they both glare at Satoru. “Geto-sensei said that you missed your anniversary dinner,” Nobara hisses. “You better give her the most amazing, romantic and extravagant dinner after this, or we will deal with you!” 

Behind Nobara, Yuuta chuckles nervously. “...Pretty sure that you won’t be able to get past his infinity-” 

“Shut up, Okkotsu!” The rest of the students shout, then the door shuts and locks with a loud click. You drag a hand down your face, then scoff. Great.

“Wow, they’re really something,” Satoru chuckles, but when you don’t say anything, he turns to face you, his expression serious, even with his usual blindfold on. “Say the word, and I’ll teleport you out of here. Then, I’ll talk to them.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you say quietly as you sit in one of the empty chairs. “We can talk.” 

As you look around the classroom, a few memories from the year before came back. “Wait, this is the classroom where we met, isn’t it?” 

“Looks like it,” Satoru says as he leans against the wall, smiling softly. “Zen’in, Panda, Inumaki, and Okkotsu were first years. You were standing right here. Your first day as a transfer, and you were already teaching these kids as professionals.” 

“Yeah.” You stifle a laugh. “You stayed for the entire lesson, even though you had a meeting with the higher-ups. Suguru and Yaga had to practically drag you out of here so you wouldn’t spend another hour flirting.” 

“They were pissed, but it was worth it. Our newest team member is just so pretty,” he says, then reaches for your hand, your thumb lovingly brushing against yours as his voice dips lower. “The most beautiful woman that my six eyes have ever seen.” 

It’s a nice memory, but when you remember everything else, your smile falters. Satoru sighs, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl. Not just forgetting the annivesary dinner that you planned, but also for leaving you hanging. I don’t blame you for disappearing for a few days. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve been upset, too. I really don’t have an excuse. That was just… wrong.” 

“I appreciate that, Toru, but… are you sure that this even works? All of the chasing, the begging to spend just a few hours together, it’s draining. I know you’re the strongest sorcerer-” 

“You matter more than that,” he says firmly. “So much more than that. If it came down to choosing between you or being the strongest, I’m choosing you in an instant. I meant it when I said that I’d let Toji Fushiguro kill me again before letting you go.” You wince when you remember the gruesome details of that story, but don’t interrupt. “I made a horrible mistake by forgetting that date. I can’t imagine how awful it was sitting at the restaurant all alone. I’m so sorry. I don’t care how long it’ll take to make this up, I’ll prove that you mean the world to me.” 

You consider his words. While you’re still a bit hurt about being forgotten, you miss your boyfriend, and you do believe that he’ll make it up to you, despite you being a bit hesitant. “One more chance, Satoru,” you tell him. “Don’t ever do this to me again.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” he says, lifting his blindfold to reveal the gorgeous, cerulean eyes that you love so much. “You won’t regret this.” When you reach for him, he lowers his infinity fully to let you hug him, a long exhale leaving your body when you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and his scent. “I missed you,” he whispers to you. “I was so worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

He kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you. “Okay, time to go.” 

“Go where?” 

Satoru chuckles. “I owe you an amazing, romantic, and extravagant dinner, otherwise my students will find a way to kill me. Plus, we’re going to be disappearing for a while. I got a trip planned. Flight leaves early in the morning.”

You gasp. “What?! But what about work? Or the students? Or the-” 

He interrupts you with a feather-light kiss against your lips. “All taken care of, pretty girl,” he purrs. “Just let me make this up to you, okay?” 

“Alright, but first you need to apologize to the students for wreaking havoc while you were stressed, and buy Yuuji a new brownie.” 

[pacifistsworstnightmare]

AIR SO SWEET — katsuki bakugo blurb

this one goes out to all the people (me and @moonstonejpg) who wanna baby the shit out of katsuki bakugo lol

MINORS DNI & warnings: uhhh underlying mommy kink (like. it's there but you kind of have to put your thinking caps on to see it), submissive(ish)!katsuki, shower handjob, mostly just soft and very sweet cause i was in the mood

a/n : this is a little something based on this (me being insane) cause i just think he needs it :)

m.list !

when katsuki gets back from a particularly taxing patrol, you bully him into the bathroom to shower. he resists, of course. always tries to.

grumbles something about not needing help, about being fine, about how you’re the one who should be getting pampered, but his voice is hoarse and quiet and his body doesn’t fight you. he lets you guide him down the hallway, lets you peel off his hero suit, lets you pull him into the shower like he’s not half a foot taller and packed with muscle.

“i’m fine,” he says again, weakly.

you press a kiss to his sternum, right on the silvered skin of long-aged scars. “i know.”

the water’s hot, steam curling around you both. he stands there in the spray, blinking slow, letting it soak into his skin while you lather soap between your hands. and when you touch him— when your palms glide over his arms, his shoulders, down the wide expanse of his back— he exhales like it hurts. you’re quiet about it. you don’t coo or fuss like he's broken. don’t tease like he's a kid. you just touch him— with intention, like this is holy. (to you it is.)

you wash every inch of him. the strong curve of his neck. the thick lines of his thighs. the callused pads of his fingers. and he just… lets you. head bowed, water dripping off his chin, jaw slack and silent. finally unclenched for once in his life.

your hands reach his stomach, suds sliding down the firm ridges of muscle.

and he makes a little noise.

you glance up. he’s watching you now, barely— like he’s embarrassed to be seen like this. like he can’t believe you’re doing this so carefully, because he wants it and doesn’t know if he should. so you soap your hands again. and you reach lower.

he twitches when you touch him.

he’s not hard, not yet. but he’s getting there— fast. and not because you’re doing anything rough or filthy. you’re not even moving fast. you’re just holding him. touching him like he matters. like he’s deserving. and that’s what ruins him.

“you don’t have to—” he says, breath ragged.

“i want to,” you interrupt, soft and certain. your thumb brushes the head of his cock. “let me, baby. let me take care of you, yeah?”

and he does. he presses a palm flat to the wall. lets his head drop. and lets you jerk him off under the spray and it feels like he’s never been touched before.

you stroke him slow. steady. your soapy hands making it slick and easy. he moans once— low and strained— and then goes quiet again, save for the wet sound of your fist and the water pattering down over his chest. you kiss the underside of his jaw. “feels good?”

he nods, frantic.

“you’re allowed to feel good, y’know,” you murmur, voice low. “doesn’t make you weak.”

his breath catches.

“you’re still strong. even like this.”

his hips stutter, helpless.

“you need this, baby,” you whisper, dragging your fist just a little tighter. “let it happen. let it feel good. you’re allowed to let me look after you.”

he cums like that— shaking, breathless, with a soft grunt and his whole body curling in like he’s trying to hide it. like the release is too much. too good. too real. you keep stroking him through it until he twitches, oversensitive, before finally letting go.

his chest heaves. he won’t look at you at first. but you reach up and kiss him, slow, and he melts into it. hands coming to your hips. forehead resting against yours.

“… you’re an ass,” he mutters.

“mm,” you smile. “and you’re clean now. so you’re welcome.”

he rolls his eyes. but his arms wrap around you after that, pulling you into his chest while the water keeps running. you wash him, you love him, you get him off in the shower, and fuck he's finally starting to understand that maybe he does deserve it all.

— 2025 © pwn. all rights reserved. do not repost, narrate, or translate my works. thanku!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running To You

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You're rescued by a man who you don't even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers

Note: a stressed out steve rogers plus a cutie. it bloomed from the theory of Steve's beard being a symbol of his darker side, or a darker state of mind. In the wat that he would usually pride himself on a neat appearance but lets himself go a bit when he's not at his best.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stumble up over the curb as you check the list on your phone. Oops, you should really look where you're going. You steady yourself and giggle at your own clumsiness. For how precise your inventory is, the rest of you is a bit of a clutter.

You dodge through the onslaught of pedestrians and apologise a deep 'hey, lady' thunders through at you. You quickly dip into the store and shield yourself with the door. You gasp and catch your breath, smiling at the associate nearest to you. The organic shop probably isn't the most exciting place to shop but it has most of the ingredients you need. Raw honey, tallow wax, essential oils...

You greet them with a small wave and 'hi' and turn to look at the shelves along the wall. They don't acknowledge you. Most people don't, not that you mind. You keep to yourself.

The door jingles and another customer enters. They pause by the door and look around. They might be lost. It's not unusual for one more person to wander in but usually they don't stay long.

He clears his throat and you do your best to focus on your list. You're going to need a basket. As you go to grab one from the stack, the man faces you. You shy away and stop short of latch onto one of the mesh baskets.

"Excuse me, miss," he holds up a familiar item; a red wallet with white polkadots. It's yours! "I think you dropped this."

"Oh, my, I did," you give a sheepish smile to his chest. He's an awfully big man. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem," he hands it over.

You accept it and hold it to your chest. You give a tiny shimmy, "thank you so so much!"

You dare to look up and meet his eyes. They're blue but reticent. He scratches his beard as he nods and backs up.

"I think I'm in your way," he grabs one of the baskets and offers it to you.

"Oh, no, but yes, thank you, I need one," you take it.

"Mm, yeah," he smooths out the tuft in his beard that he was pulling on. The hair is thick and coarse; the locks on his head are just as dense, pushed back away from the face, though his chin-length strands try to droop past his ears.

You put your head down and turn back to the shelves. He lingers, seemingly lost as he looks around. What's the odds that in a city like this someone would do something so nice? You look at the list again then peek over at him. He squints at a jar of sourdough starter.

"What do you use in your beard?" You ask then cover your mouth. "I'm sorry, that's not... polite, is it?"

He shrugs, "hm, I just use shampoo, I guess. Face wash?"

"Right. Well, it's pretty shiny." You scrunch up your face. "I'm sorry." You chew your lip in embarrassment. Your cheeks are ablaze. "I'm working on my beard oil. I make it. Um, sell it. But..."

"Beard oil," he repeats thoughtfully. "I don't... I guess maybe I should."

He touches his beard again, a crease between his brows.

"I don't meant to-- I... I'm not... it's cute. I mean. Suits you. I was just--" you show your teeth nervously. "I don't have a beard so..."

"Yeah," he agrees awkwardly and tucks his hair back behind his ears before it can fall forward.

"I ramble..." you drift off and face the shelves again. "I'll stop bothering you."

He inhales and backs up. He turns to the door then stops. You sense his gaze.

"It's a bit busy. Rush hour," he says. "You don't mind if I hide in here with you?"

You glance over. You shrug. "Um, yeah, sure. It's not my store. Not sure how interesting it is."

You fumble between the basket and your phone. You hum and scour the shelves with your eyes, scrunching your nose in concentration. He comes closer.

"What are you looking for?" He asks.

"Soybean oil."

"Soybean oil," he nods. "For..."

"Soap," you cheep.

"Ah. In my day, ma just used fat and lye."

You give his statement a thought. You've seen some recipes from way back. Like long ago. Almost a hundred years now. A lot of people prefer the gentler ingredients.

"Oh, that's cool that she made her own stuff," you muse as you take a canister and tap your spreadsheet to mark off that item.

"Yeah," you feel him trying to see the screen. "You're really organized."

"Can't forget anything," you say.

"Sure." He lurks and looks around before he focuses on you again. "I'm Steve, by the way."

You look at him. He's just as big as the last time you looked. His blue eyes seem uncertain. He can't be afraid of someone like you. You give your name.

"Nice to meet, you, Steve."

"You too," he agrees. "Can I help?"

"Oh, sure. What do you prefer? Rose or Gardenia?"

"Rose is nice," he says.

"I agree," you say and pluck up the small bottle.

"You said you sell stuff?"

"Sure do," you chime. You tuck the bottle into the basket. "You know, you don't have to pretend to care."

"What? I... I'm curious."

You eye him, "well, Steve, I'll believe you, but there's not much to be curious about."

His brows furrow, not so much in agitation, but intrigue. "The beard oil. How much?"

"Oh, you know, I could get you a sample from my hoard. Since you got me my wallet back. You don't have to do all that."

"I want to. I think you right," he runs his hands over his beard. "Needs a bit of taming."

You laugh, "looks good to me. Oh, you can try coconut oil. It's real easy and you can use it in your hair too."

"Coconut oil," he says. "I'll add it to the list. What about yours?"

"Soy wax," you look at your list. "I can use that for lots of things."

He lifts his heads, shoulders wide and straight, looking around on a mission. He strides around the rack behind him and you watch him search a shelf. He picks up two jars. He comes back to you. "Which do you prefer?" He holds up to two different sellers. You take the one in his left hand.

"Thank you," you grin.

"Next," he looks down at your phone.

"Jeez, you sure are helpful," you check again.

"They sell wicks. I need the long ones. Like this." You hold the basket and phone at a length.

He nods again, "on it."

You point him to the corner where they keep the candlemaking stuff and you go back to your own search. He's too quick for you. He has a hole bunch in hand. You have him put half in your basket and he takes the rest back.

Huh, looks like you made a friend.

🎀

Steve holds the door for you. It's so nice you thank him for what must be the dozenth time since you met. Maybe only even an hour ago.

As you get outside, you turn back to him, certain to keep away from the pedestrians who pay no heed to obstacles. "I can take that bag too."

He looks down as the door shuts behind him. "Pretty heavy," he says.

"Oh, I always do that. I forgot my little rolly bag," you shrug. "I can handle it."

"Wouldn't feel right letting you carry it all. Mrs. Rogers didn't raise a punk."

"Is that your mom? I bet she's nice too," you say. "It's alright, Steve. You've done enough. I owe you. My wallet would've been gone with the wind and I never coulda bought all this."

He stares at you, then once more peeks down at the fabric bag. You always bring the reusable; they're much stronger than the paper ones supplied in-store. He chews his lower lip.

"If you owe me, well, you wanna have a coffee? Together?" He asks.

You blink. That's so nice of him too.

"Coffee?" You press your lips together. You feel bad saying no. Not that you want to. It wouldn't be so bad to have someone to sit with. For once. "I don't drink it."

He nods, "tea? Hot chocolate? Water?"

You laugh.

"I'll have a cookie," you offer. "Um," you look up and down the street. "Where..."

"I saw a place. Never been in. Wanna give it a try?"

"Oh, cool. Yeah. I love new places, even if they're scary," you say.

"Here," he takes the other bag from your hands before you can argue. "It's a block back."

"Wait, Steve! I can carry that."

"Not if I'm around," he insists, "come on."

He rolls his shoulder in a gesture for you to follow. You huff and hop into motion. You walk next to him, wary of the oncoming people along the sidewalk. A man nearly bowls you over and you knock into Steve's elbow.

"Oof, I'm sorry."

"Get on the inside of me, doll," he says. "Used to be that people took their hat off when they passed a lady. Now they don't care if... well... you move."

He stops and lets you step across his path. He keeps you between him and the storefronts as he strides on undaunted. You wish you were as brave as him.

"Ah, there it is." He tilts his chin up.

You look ahead. You see the sign sticking out in the shape of a coffee cup.

"Oh, I see it," you hurdle ahead. "My turn."

You pull open the door as he follows. He stops to let another customer out before he enters. You follow him.

"There's a table," he nods.

You follow his gaze to the wall. You lead the way and he trails you. He puts the bags in one of the chairs.

"How about you sit?" He suggests. "What kind of cookie do you want?"

"Oh, Steve, uh," you pull out your wallet, "if they have oatmeal--"

"My treat." He insists.

"You can't do that," you argue.

"You gonna stop me?" He challenges. You gulp and blink at him. You don't think you could stop him from anything. He's quite the figure.

"I guess not." You murmur.

His expression softens, "hey, I'm kidding. I didn't... scare you, did I?"

"N-no," you force a smile. "I appreciate that. Thank you. Oatmeal. That's all."

"Alright. I'll be back." He turns and you see his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath.

You sit and jiggle your leg as you look around. You avoid the coffee shops, even the bakeries. They're always so busy. You are methodical in your ventures but today's seems to have gone off the rails. Not in the worst way. One time, you tried to take the subway and ended up lost in the rain.

There's women who look like they could be on a TV show with their fabulous dresses and perfect waves; a man in a suit with his laptop and a single earbud in, and an older couple near the door. There are many others in the line to get a treat of their own.

You turn in the chair and press your palms to the table. You stare at the wood between your hands. You feel the heat speckling over your scalp, that sense of suffocation burrowing into your chest, the voices swirling around you like a raging wind.

"Here," Steve interrupts your internal panic. He places a large cookie before you and mug. "They had this strawberry cream thing. No coffee."

You look at the pink concoction with a dark red swirl in the middle. "Mmmm," you lean forward to admire it. "Wow. It looks good."

He puts his own coffee down and moves the bags under the table. He sits and unzips his jacket to let the tension out of the fabric. You smile and pick up the cookie. You hide behind it.

"I can't eat this alone. It's as big as my face." You giggle. 

You break it in two and offer him half. He eyes it for a moment then accepts it with a thanks. You take a bite then round your eyes at him. He's staring. Oh no. Is that rude? You chew and swallow quickly.

"What?" You hide your mouth behind your hand.

"Nothing. It's just..." he glances around the shop. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" You make googly eyes and cross them. "Is there something on my nose?"

He snorts. "No. There's not." He sighs. "Just haven't had a nice quiet coffee in a while. It's nice."

Your brows pop up and you smile big. "I'm sorry I'm not a big coffee person. I tried it once and it made my belly gurgle."

"It's fine. Bad habit," he taps the handle of his mug with his index finger. "Are you gonna try that cup of sugar?"

"Not much better, is it?" You pick up the mug and blow over it. You put your lips over the brim and taste it cautiously. You hum. "Mm," you pull it away. "Delicious! This is a tummy ache worth having."

His cheek dimples as he watches you. You fidget against his gaze. He's nice but you never had anyone stare at you so much.

[rainrot4me]

What's the creeps' favorite chill activity with the reader?

✦ . jeff the killer

Playing dumb games on the floor.

Despite the chaos in his soul, Jeff thrives when you’re both laid out on the floor—playing cards, stacking dice, arguing over who cheated in Uno.

He gets competitive in a way that’s just annoying enough to be endearing.

“I’m not flipping the table. I’m strategically removing your ability to win.”

Eventually he ends up lying on top of you, cards scattered, face pressed into your shoulder. He’s warm and quiet like that. Doesn’t need to say it—but he likes this version of himself with you.

✦ . ticci toby

Blanket forts & movies.

Toby LOVES making blanket forts. Like, he will restructure the living room for the perfect space.

Soft lighting, popcorn, horror movies he talks through, your head in his lap as he fiddles with your hair or hoodie string.

“We can wat-watch something else if this freaks you out—but I will judge you a little.”

He feels safe in small spaces, where the world’s shut out and it’s just you. He’s chatty, happy, and full of little giggles in moments like these.

✦ . eyeless jack

Cooking in comfortable silence.

Jack finds peace in the methodical motion of cooking. Even if he’s not cooking for himself, he gladly does for you.

You chop, he stirs. You hum, he listens. He lets you taste test from the pan and press kisses to his shoulder.

“You’re not helping, you know. You’re just distracting.”

But his voice is soft, and there’s a fondness in his movements. Afterwards, you eat together in calm quiet, and he always insists on doing the dishes with you.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Long, quiet walks.

Tim likes taking walks. Doesn’t matter if it’s through the woods, around a lake, or through crumbling ruins of a dead town.

He walks beside you, occasionally brushing his fingers against yours. When you finally take his hand, he just squeezes it and keeps walking.

“This is nice. Being here. With you.”

Sometimes he’ll bring a flask. Sometimes he’ll pause to show you something he remembers. It’s always peaceful with him, even when the world isn’t.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Photographing you.

Brian finds calm in photography. His favorite subject? You.

Candid moments, sleepy moments, “turn your face toward the light” moments. You’ll hear the click of his camera and look over to see him already lowering it with a faint smile.

“Don’t stop what you’re doing. I like seeing you like this.”

Later, he shows you his collection. Each photo is quiet, intimate—a love letter he doesn’t always know how to say aloud.

✦ . kate the chaser

Target practice & then lounging around.

Kate isn’t very still by nature, so her “chill” time usually involves active bonding.

She’ll drag you to do target practice with her—knives, throwing stars, or even just rocks at cans.

But after she’s burned her energy, she’s a limpet. She’ll curl into you with a cocky grin and steal your hoodie.

“Not bad, rookie. Still not as good as mine, though.”

She runs her fingers over your knuckles while you rest, her adrenaline replaced with quiet affection.

✦ . ben drowned

Gaming marathons in bed.

Ben loves lazy afternoons with both of you tangled up in blankets, controllers in hand, snacks everywhere.

He makes dumb jokes, shouts when he loses, and lets you win sometimes just to watch you gloat.

“Look at you acting all smug—fine. Rematch. No mercy.”

After a few rounds, he tosses the controller and turns to you, cheek pressed to your chest, just vibing while the pause screen hums in the background.

✦ . clockwork

Bath time + skincare.

Clockwork loves winding down with self-care rituals and insists you join her.

She’ll run a hot bath for both of you, drop in something that smells like sandalwood or mint, and just let you lean against her.

“You smell like my soap. Good. That’s how it should be.”

Afterwards, she dabs lotion onto your face with gentle fingers, murmuring praise. She’d never admit it, but she cherishes this softness more than anything.

✦ . laughing jack

Drawing together on the floor.

Jack isn’t a quiet guy—but when you break out pens and paper, he gets weirdly focused.

You draw on the floor, trading doodles, laughing at each other’s terrible art. Sometimes he traces your hand. Sometimes he draws your face from memory.

“You’re my best canvas, you know. But I like it when you leave your mark on me, too.”

He ends up covered in glitter, ink, and stickers, laying in a pile of scribbled paper and fake frustration.

✦ . slenderman

Reading together in total silence.

Slender’s favorite activity is the quiet kind. You, him, a dark library or fireside room, curled up on opposite sides of a velvet couch, each with a book.

Sometimes he reads aloud if you ask. His voice is low, calm—hypnotic.

“Rest your eyes if you’d like. I’ll keep going.”

You fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the rustle of pages. He always bookmarks your spot.

꩜ .ᐟ

[wonryllis]

ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375

prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo

JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided

"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.

he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.

look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.

and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.

"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[janeyseymour]

Longing Looks and Stolen Glances- pt 2

part 1.

This was requested a long time ago by @theboreworms and honestly, let me know if you want to see a part 3!

Summary: Your coworkers react to you getting engaged, and you're forced to explain how it happened.

WC: ~1.75k

“You got engaged?” Your coworkers all shout at you.

“Melissa Schemmenti,” Barbara admonishes. “You don’t even tell me, your work wife, that you are romantically involved with someone, and then you walk in engaged?!”

“Surprise?” you try to smooth over. It doesn’t work very well. Your coworkers continue to flounder for words at this news.

Before you can stop them, Jacob and Janine grab for your left hand to inspect the beautiful engagement ring that is now sitting on your finger. It sparkles as the sunlight hits it perfectly.

“Holy shit,” Mr. Johnson lets out as he gets a glance at the ring. “Damn, Red. You did good with that one.”

Your fiancee can’t help the pride on her face.

“Well, I expect to hear all about this now,” the kindergarten teacher hits the two of you with pointed looks.

So, with a sigh, you divulge into the story of how the two of you got together. “One of the camera men was innocently flirting with me.” Green eyes glare at the camera man in question. “And I guess this one got jealous, because the next thing I know, she’s storming into my room and is kissing me.”

“They all knew we were dancing around each other and took matters into their own hands,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “And the only reason I was okay with their meddlin’ is because I got the girl in the end.”

“We started dating quietly, no one knowing except for the camera crew because they had to,” you state.

“And I swore them to secrecy,” Melissa sighs. “Ain’t nobody need to know our business until we were ready.”

“And then… it just became kind of normal, and we forgot to tell youse,” you smile apologetically.

“How do you forget something like that?” Barbara rolls her eyes. “I assume the two of you are moving in together?”

You bite your lip. “Do you remember when I was moving about a year ago?” you ask sheepishly.

“You moved in with Mel Mel?” the redhead’s former roommate asks, brows about as high as they’ll go.

“I did,” you smile shyly. 

“I thought you said you was never gettin’ married again,” Ava states. “Full of shit.”

Your fiancee looks to you. “I think I said it would take a freakin’ miracle, and… Y/N is that miracle for me.”

“Well,” Janine bounces back and forth on her toes in excitement. “How’d it happen? And when is the wedding? And are we all invited? Ooh, is Barb going to be in the-”

“Slow your roll, pipsqueak,” Melissa chuckles with a roll of her eyes. “One question at a time.”

“How’d you get engaged?”

It honestly wasn’t that much different than any other day in your lives. The two of you had woken up yesterday morning and gotten ready for school as you usually would. Melissa made breakfast, and the two of you enjoyed your meal and hot beverages in a peaceful bliss before you had to head out to school. She drove the two of you in, hands resting intertwined on the center console. You sang along to the radio, and it took everything in your girlfriend to not get distracted by your absolute beauty. The school day went on as it usually does, if not filled with more chaos than usual. And when it was time for the teachers to head out for the day, you were stuck prepping for the next day as usual. You’re the last teachers to leave. That isn’t uncommon, so most teachers don’t know that you come in and leave together anyway. But, even those who do know that you live relatively close to each other, so you often carpool (they don’t realize that you actually live together). Dinner was lovely as always, and the wine that was paired with your meal was absolutely perfect. The two of you cleaned up, changed into more comfortable clothes to lounge around in, and then settled on the couch for some relaxation time with another glass of wine and some homemade tiramisu from the night before. You’re watching some corny show about love that the two of you love to indulge in secretly.

“This show gives such unrealistic expectations of love,” you sigh out as you settle a hand on her knee.

Melissa brings a spoonful of the sweet dessert to your mouth, and you smile softly. “What do you mean, hun?”

“They show all the glitz and the glamour and all of that shit,” you chuckle. “But they don’t want to show the everyday realness of the dates that people go on, or the nights in. They don’t show the harder moments. They only want to show the fireworks of a relationship.”

“I guess you’re right,” your girlfriend laughs as she takes her own mouthful of the tiramisu.

You kiss her softly. “Like, I get it… I just think they skew people’s perception of what love is.”

“Do you think we have a realistic love?”

You nod. “Of course I do. We’ve had our own firework moments, but some of the best moments are the everyday life moments.”

“Like?”

“Like… our drives to and from work, or just out to a plain and simple coffee shop where we both focus on getting papers done. Or when we cook dinner together and dance around like fools.”

“Do you miss the big firework moments?”

“Lissa,” you turn to her with warm eyes. “I love everything about our relationship. You know that.”

“You’re not going to miss the engagement, and all of the things that come with a wedding?” she asks you hesitantly.

“When we started dating, I told you that I don’t need all that stuff,” you tell her honestly. “A life with you is complete, whether we have the rings and the piece of paper or not.”

“But like, when you were younger, you dreamed of being married with kids,” your girlfriend says softly.

“I did,” you admit. “But then I met you, and none of that mattered anymore.”

Before you know what she’s doing, Melissa is off the couch and on the ground, propped on one knee. She takes your hands in her own. “Marry me.”

Your eyes go wide. This was not what you were expecting tonight. “Lis, what?”

“Marry me,” she says again. “You’re worth all of my doubts and fears. You’re worth the harassment we’ll get from the group for getting me to change my mind on it all.”

“Mel, you don’t have to do this,” you tell her as you try to get her to get off of her bad knee. And why she chose to kneel down on the knee that she’s always rubbing at is beyond you. “You don’t have to do this because you think it’s what I want.”

“I want this,” she tells you finitely, continuing to kneel. Then she jumps up. “Hold on.”

Your girlfriend runs up the steps and races back down before kneeling back down in front of you and opening a beautiful ring box. “Does this prove to you that I want this? Marry me.”

You look into her eyes for any hints that she’s feeling pressured to do this- that this isn’t what she truly wants. But… for a brief second you think about the fact that you didn’t even know she had gone ring shopping- that you haven’t spoken about marriage in any certain ways since things started to get serious between the two of you.

To your girlfriend, those few moments where you don’t say anything feel like a lifetime, and she almost stands from her place and tells you to forget she ever said anything. Before she can though, you capture her lips.

“Yes,” you mumble against them as you pull her off her knee and onto the couch. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

The redhead smiles into the kiss, and when you pull away she slips the ring onto your finger with shaky hands. “Really?”

You don’t even look at the ring before you place your hand on her cheek and wipe away the tear that threatens to escape from her face before nodding and kissing her again, nodding.

Only once you’ve pulled away for a second time do you take a gander at the ring. It’s stunning, and yet it’s so simple and screams you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper as you admire the sparkling rock that now sits upon your finger. “When did you get this?”

She takes your hand in her own and runs her thumb along your knuckles. “A couple months ago, I started thinkin’ more seriously about us. How I always said it would take a freaking miracle for me to even consider gettin’ married again, and how you happily accepted that answer despite your own desires. I got it about a month ago, and I’ve been thinkin’ about the perfect way to propose, but… I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“This was the perfect way to propose,” you tell her quietly. “Just us alone, in the peace and quiet of our own house. I told you, I don’t need the fireworks to know that I am the happiest I could be with you.”

The entire staff is looking at you with soft, warm eyes as they swoon at the way that the two of you got engaged. Barbara, for as annoyed as she looked when the two of you revealed that you were not only together- but engaged to be married, looks thrilled for the two of you. She nudges her work wife gently.

“Look at you, getting married again,” the kindergarten teacher smiles.

Your favorite green eyes are rolled as Melissa grabs your hand softly and kisses your knuckles.

Janine and Jacob, in their trademarked fashion, begin to bombard the two of you with more questions, but your girlfriend simply puts up her hand to signal them to stop.

“As much as you know I would love to answer all of your questions,” your now fiancee says, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “The lady and I have to get down to our classrooms to prep for today, and hopefully start planning the first Abbott wedding.”

The group immediately starts to protest, but Melissa simply picks up her coffee cup, gestures for you to do the same, and pulls you away.

You throw them all a wink. “We’ll give you details today at lunch.”

“Babe!” Melissa groans.

tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[aothotties]

Sneaky Link w/ Connie

Warnings: MDNI, jealousy, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, hickies, not proof read :)

Word Count: 1257

_______

Once Connie turned 18, he packed up and moved out of his parents home. He wasn’t forced to do it, he’s just always wanted to do his own thing. 

He moved in with his boys, started a small business with them too, and even decided he really fucks with tattoos. 

That is where he met you, his own personal tattoo artist. You’ve done all of his body art since he first started coming into your shop and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Deep down inside, he knew he had feelings for you when y’all first met, but Connie doesn’t “do” feelings. 

Now Connie has never been afraid of anything, but when it comes to you, this man is fucking petrified. He’ll never show it, but you make his heart race like it never has before, of course he can’t tell you that though since he has an “image” to keep up. 

Luckily, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. You can’t deny that he’s attractive, got a great personality and a dick that will fuck you into next week. It’s just that neither one of y’all know how to properly express your feelings.

One thing about Connie though, is that if he wants something he’s going to get it no matter what. He just has to figure out how to get you all to himself. 

His original plan was to walk into the shop and just ask you out, something he’s never done before with anyone. That is until he steps in the shop and sees one of your other clients making you laugh as hard as he normally does. He can’t explain why, but a feeling of anger washes over him. 

You and your client look towards the door, you give Connie your pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees and tell him you’ll be with him in a minute. He nods and goes to sit in your office, staring down the man you’re currently working with. 

He tries to distract himself on his phone, but his attention is back on you when you laugh at something your client says. He rolls his eyes and thanks the gods above when you both walk towards the register.

“Alright, you can slide, insert, or tap your card right here.” You turn the Ipad around and wait for him to complete his payment. 

You turn and give Connie a small wave, he returns the gesture and stands up from his seat and makes his way over to you. 

“Perfect, is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask and he gives you a sweet smile.

“If you really want to make my night, you can come home with me.” He leans on the counter and waits for an answer from you. 

At this point Connie is a few steps away from throwing this man through the front door. He stays silent and waits for your response.

You smile sweetly and place a hand on top of his, Connie rolls his eyes once again and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s really sweet, but I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” 

This time Connie’s eyes lock in on you as he takes your words into consideration. Has he been wrong about your feelings for him this entire time?

“Such a shame, a pretty girl like you should be tied down by now. Have a goodnight sweetheart.” The man kisses the back of your hand and finally exits the shop.

“Sorry that took so long, Antonio is a talker.” You apologize and lock the front doors once you’re sure nobody else is inside. 

“Yeah I can see that.” He sits on the stool behind the register and pulls you in close to stand between his legs.

“How was your day?” You ask him, rubbing your hands along his broad shoulders.

“Fine, then I came to see my girl and it got better.” He responds and rubs his hands along the curves of your body.

“Ah I see, I’m your girl now?” You raise an eyebrow and look down at him.

He scoffs and leans back so he’s resting against the counter behind him.

“Shit, haven’t you always been?” He mindlessly shrugs his shoulders and this time you give him a chuckle.

“You’re funny Connie.” You remove yourself from his hold and walk to the office to count the change.

Connie watches you walk off and chuckles at your comment. He’s the funny one, yeah okay.

“Am I still funny now baby?” He asks you with a smirk on his face and his cock buried deep inside of you.

You let out a moan in response to his question and he pulls all the way out in return.

“Connie!” You exclaim, reaching for him as he backs away. 

“I asked you a question, am I still funny to you?” He grunts, pushing all the way back into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck! N-no, ‘m sorry papi.” You throw your head back and he takes that as an invitation to suck hickies on your skin. 

You tighten around his dick when his lips make contact with your skin and he bites down on your neck. 

“C-cumming! Please don’t stop!” You grab his arms tightly and arch your back off the desk as your orgasm courses through your body.

“There we go pretty girl, keep your eyes on me.” He leans down and presses his forehead against your own.

You let out a small gasp at the cool feeling of his necklace on your chest. He bites down on your bottom lip and slowly rolls his hips.

“You’re such a pretty girl, maybe I should be the one to tie you down, hm?” He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and bites down gently.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig into the skin on his back. You nod your head at his question and he smiles against your skin. 

“Say you’re mine. I want to hear you say it.” He sits back and pushes your legs up to your chest. 

He resumes the speed of his hips and you grab the sides of the desk below you. 

“I-I’m yours!” You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a mantra of high pitched moans as he continues to bully your cunt. 

“That’s a good girl, f-fuck you’re all mine.” His thrust gradually get rougher and tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

He completely folds you in half and pistons his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, you scream into your hand as you gush around his cock.

Your mouth is wide open, yet no sound is able to come from it. Your toes curl as the shockwaves of your orgasm travel through your body.

“Awe poor thing, cats got your tongue?” He grabs your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours messily.

Your lips fall open as his pelvis grinds against your clit, he sucks on your bottom lip and chuckles.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me come baby!” He fucks into you a few more times before he pulls out and comes all over the tattoo on your lower abdomen.

“You okay sweetheart?” He grabs some napkins from your desk and begins to clean you up.

“Y-yeah most definitely.” You give a thumbs up and he plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You can tell Antonio you’ve been tied down.” He whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

Ari

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 13-Wednesday

Paris couldn't believe what they were seeing: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in Gotham Academy, in uniform! They hadn't see her in four years! What shocked them even more was seeing her arguing with some guy and she wasn't backing down.

The students in Gotham Academy didn't pay them any attention. Everyone ignored the shouting and yelling; they just kept walking as if they didn't see or hear them.

"Shouldn't you get a teacher?" Nino asked a student passing by.

"For what?" asked the brunette.

The class pointed at the arguing students.

"Wat day is it?" the brunette questioned.

"Wednesday." Max answered, "Does it matter?"

"It's their 'Argue Day'." the Gotham student declared.

"Argue day?" Mylene asked, confused.

"Yeah." the student stated, with a shrug, "Like clockwork. Teachers learned to deal with it. They get competitive, too."

"My boyfriend wouldn't put up with this sort of thing." Lila declared, "He hates violence."

"Oh, who is you boyfriend?" the brunette questioned.

"Damian Wayne." Lila smiled.

The brunette started laughing and pointing at Lila.

"Dude?" the blonde nearby questioned.

"This bitch said Damian Wayne is her boyfriend! She also said he hated violence!" the brunette answered and continued to laugh.

The blonde joined, howling with laughter. The Paris class shifted uncomfortably.

"Listen here, Faker," the blonde spoke, "you're not dating our ice Prince. Not to mention Damian is one of the most violent Waynes to roam these halls."

Lila sniffled, "He just doesn't want the media to know. I'm not lying."

"Well, that's lie number two." the brunette counted, "Damian doesn't care about the media. They gave him the title 'Ice Prince'."

"Do you know how many reporters have broken their arms, hands, or fingers trying to get a scoop from him?" the blonde questioned.

"You the ones lying!" Aly shouted, "Lila said he was kind and helpful Damian Wayne does charity work with her, for the environment!"

"It's not that hard to look up." the blonde scoffed, :About every other weekend, he's in the park casually talking to Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and playign with their hyenas as they plan 'How to green up Gotham'."

Lila paled hearing how he associated with rogues. That hadn't been what she expected.

"Supposedly, his mother is just as bad as they are." the brunette declared, "If not worse."

Lila gulped, trying to figure out how to keep her classmates under her control as her lie began to unravel.

"If anything, it sound like you googled 'rich kid+my age in Gotham' and Damian Wayne popped up first." the blonde responded.

"How can you say that about our friend?" Kim demanded.

The boys pointed to Marinette and the boy arguing still.

"That is Damian Wayne." the brunette answered, "By tomorrow, they'll be back to cuddling and kissing, like they have been for the past three years."

"They basically chose one day a week to let their frustrations out on each other." the blonde spoke, "It just happens to be on Wednesday."

The Parisians turned to Lila for an answer.

"I-I'm sure that's not it." Lila declared in a panic.

"Oh, really?" questioned the blonde boy, "Yo, Mari! How many times did Damian drug your coffee and drag you to bed, last week?"

"Four!" she shouted, still glaring at him.

Damian scoffed, "It was three."

"Liar!" Marinette screamed.

The class watched on in confusion.

"Damian, how many times did Mari make you new clothes last month?" the brunette asked.

"Ten!" Damian exclaimed in frustration.

Marinette scoffed, "Like you don't complain about those 'monkey suits' and how uncomfortable they are."

"I didn't ask you to go out of you way, Angel, and make me those things!" Damian rebutted.

"Oh, so now my designs are things?" Mari declared, "I just wanted you to be comfortable!"

"I'm fine!" the young Wayne sighed, "You need to sleep!"

"How long did she stay up?" the blonde questioned.

"She didn't sleep." Damian growled.

Marinette threw her hands up before resting them on her hips, "I slept on the drive over. I drank Tim's coffee. It usually has at least five espressos. Not the most I've had."

"What?" Damian shouted.

"Ah, so that's the reason this time." the brunette spoke.

"Sorry, Liar, but no one in Gotham will believe that you are anything to Gotham's Ice Prince when there are pictures being posted, like this, by his very own brothers." the blonde declared.

He turned his phone around to see Marinette and Damian dressed in pajamas and curled up in bed together.

"Everyone in Gotham Academy knows they live together at Wayne Manor." he continued, "Not to mention, the moment someone tries to touch her or get in her personal space, he threatens to kill them."

"He had five knives taken away this month." the brunette stated.

"Actually, it was eight." the blonde commented.

"Oh, when did I miss those?" the brunette questioned.

"You were sick for a week." the blonde answered.

"Gotha." the brunette spoke, "So, good luck and welcome to Gotham."

"Have a good Wednesday." the blonde spoke as they walked away.

Marinette yawned, "Why am I yawning? I drank Tim's coffee."

"Todd switched his coffee with decaf." Damian smiled, "You just happened to drink it, instead."

"No." she whined, "You did this on purpose!"

"I did not force you to drink Drake's coffee not did I force you to stay up all night." he answered, "If anything, Todd is upset that you ruined his prank."

"But-" Mari yawned again.

Damian smirked and picked her into his arms, "We are going home and you are going to bed."

"School." Marinette replied.

"I already messaged the teachers on the ride over that e would be missing the next two days." the young Wayne answered, "I've also paid Todd $100 for messing up his plan. In exchange, he will bring you lunch and dinner."

Marinette didn't respond and curled up in his arms. Damian just walked out of the school.

"Okay!" someone shouted, "Who had them making up under fifteen minutes?"

"Awww, man!"

"I could have sworn they would argue longer today."

"Didn't expect her to not sleep."

"Or have decaf."

"If she had just had that coffee."

"How much did you lose?"

"$20."

"Lucky; $30."

"50."

Paris watched on as money was exchanged. Marinette and Damian Wayne's couple argument had gotten so common that people were gambling on it. They started to turn to Lila, who obviously had no idea how to explain what had just happened.

"So, you really were a liar." Nathaniel whispered, "Marinette was right, all along."

"I don't think we'll get to apologize to Marinette," Rose sniffled, "But she looks happy."

"Can't say you will be by the end of this trip, Lila." Alix sneered.

Lila was out of her element as Gotham had quickly spread her lie about dating Damian. No one believed her and if she said anything, they would just laugh at her. Not to metion her own classmates were now ignoring her. This hadn't been what she had planned; it was just another Wednesday. Nothing special about it.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[sterredem]

Pretty Boy

Oscar piastri x Famous!Reader

Face claim: random girls on Pinterest

Summery: When Oscar meets a pretty girl he is interested in her and decides to shoot his shot.

Word count: 938

A/N: Sooo this is my first fix. I am very nervous but I hope you like it! I know I made the polls and the results were completely different from this but I need to do a lot of research for that one so I thought that this could be fun.

Also this could be red with everything in mind. It is a female reader but you can read it with whatever job you want!

I did make it with a European singer in mind but chose what you want!

Please give feedback or comment!

Extra info for fic: the note, Insta DM’s

Y/n always felt like she was being watched. Whenever it was by her friends, paparazzi, fans or just people walking by it didn’t matter. She felt it.

But this time it was different, she didn’t know who was swatching her, normally she could figure it out really quick who was watching but now… she just couldn’t figure it out. And it also felt different then normally, this time it didn’t feel like they wanted something from her. Everyone always wanted something from her; a picture, money, publicity anything really. But no this time it felt different. The ‘stare’ felt more caring (for all she could know because stares don’t really have feelings) it felt more intense but in a good way, like they were zoned out or something. But she didn’t know who was watching her or why.

So because she couldn’t figure it out she turend back to het coffee and her work. She took a moment to look around in the cafe to look at if she can see who was staring at her. But she couldn’t figure it out.

Wat she did saw was a very handsome man talking with who she presumed to be his friends. He had brown fluffy hair and brown eyes. She had to admit he looked really pretty.

But now that she was thinking he did look away when she looked at him. And then she realized, he was the person that was ‘staring’ at her. Now she was actually thinking, that was pretty creepy.

But ignoring all that she decided that her work is more important than the pretty boy staring at her. So she turned back to het coffee and work… again.

Meanwhile Oscar or better known as ‘the pretty boy’ was star struck. Not because he knew she was famous no, but because of her beauty. She was the most beautiful girl in the world in his eyes so he couldn’t help but stare at her.

But when she turned around he knew he was caught and quickly turened around back to Lando.

Because if he was being honest it was pretty creeping with him staring at her. He just hoped she wouldn’t find it to creepy.

“Hey you okay mate?” Lando asked after Oscar spaced out for a long time.

“Huh what?” He asked still in a daze from the beautiful girl.

“Are you okay? You were liked zoned out or something.” Lando said a bit confused with how his friend was acting.

“Oh yeah I am fine. Just got distracted.” Oscar said now focusing back on the conversation.

“Okay… you sure? What got you so distracted?” Lando asked with a teasing smile.

“Oh nothing important.” Oscar said blushing a little.

“Okay I will drop it. But if you want to talk about it I’m always here.” Lando said now becoming a little more serious again. “Zak will be here in a minute so if I where you I would figure the distraction out before it becomes a problem.”

“Yeah okay, okay I will. Just wait one second okay?” Oscar said already coming up with a plan to speak with the gorgeous girl.

“Yeah, yeah okay I’ll cover for you if it takes too long” Lando said preparing to cover for his teammate.

Oscar walked away to the bar and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and write something on it.

He then waited for her to go to the bathroom (no he is not a stalker) and then walked to her table and put the piece of paper down by her work stuff and walked back to his table just in time for her to get back and for Zak and a few other members of McLaren to come into the cafe.

When y/n came back to het table from the bathroom she saw the pretty boy walking away and she saw a piece of paper on her table.

She unfolded the paper and smiled at what stood there, she grabbed her phone and goes to her instagram.

She took a quick Look at the note again.

Hey, sorry if this is a bit weird but I think you are really pretty and would like to talk some time. Btw: sorry if the staring was a bit creepy didn’t meen to stare :) if you want to talk you can just DM me on instagram. My user on there is: JackOP81.

She smiled at the note again and logged in on to her alt account and searched the user name. She followed it after she had found it and DM’d him.

Hey coffee shop guy! This is the girl you gave the note to. I am guessing your name is Jack? So hi! I would also like to get to know you.

Instagram

Pop Crave

Liked by: User1, User2 Landonorris and 100.756 others

Pop Crave: @_Y/n_y/l/n seen in cafe working on something new? Possibly new content? We are excited to see what is going to come from this!

Comments:

User1: OMG I AM SO EXCITED FOR NEW CONTENT!

User2: This is so disrespectful! You are basically stalking her!

User3: that’s so true! It is always so disrespectful erom where they take pictures!

User4: ew not her again

User5: why are you being so mean? She is amazing!

User6: YES I LOVE HER!!!

User7: Wait weren’t Oscar and Lando there?

User8: OMG YOU ARE RIGHT!

User9: it is probably nothing! They have never been seen together! We don’t even know is y/n like F1!

JackOP81: @_not_y/n this you

Not_y/n: well we seem to both learn something new!

Would you guys like a 2nd part?

Pls comment, like or repost if you enjoyed it! And let me know any thoughts and feedback!

[thimbleandakiss]

Sweet Like Me

Sevika x Reader

Request by @prettyinpink69: Dumb reader x sevika. Reader has NO CLUE what she's doing and sevika is surprisingly really good at baking 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Summary: When a craving for your favorite childhood donut arrives, you ask Sevika to go grab some. Sevika says "We have donuts at home." Problem is, you don't know the first thing about baking.

Content: Domestic fluff, mild cursing, baking, and mild suggestiveness

Cross-posted to Ao3

Playlist used to write

It seems simple in theory. You’re just craving something a little sweet. Or maybe you just miss all the bakeries of Piltover. Either way, you’re flouncing into Sevika’s office, where she’s bent over and tinkering with her mechanical arm. 

“Vika…” You hum, planting your chin on her shoulder. 

She acknowledges you with an affectionate grunt, tilting her head to nudge yours while still primarily focused on her screwdriver. 

You smile at her. “How do you feel about a trip into Pilt-”

“Not a chance,” She interrupts. 

“...over,” you finish, and she doesn’t need to look up to know you’re already pouting at her. 

She sighs and sets down the screwdriver, spinning her chair so she’s facing you. 

“My next council meeting’s not until next week. What do you want from Piltover?”

You smile sheepishly at her, clasping your hands behind your back. 

“Well…” You start hesitantly before the thoughts in your head spill out of your mouth, “There was this bakery on the corner near my house that had these incredible creme donuts, and- I just got this craving-...”

She huffs a small laugh, shaking her head, her dark lips quirking up into a small smile. 

“You want to make a whole ass trip into Piltover… for some donuts?” She repeats, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Your face scrunches briefly in thought before nodding resolutely. 

“Well, my decision still stands. We’re not going into the city.” She stands, scooping her metal arm off the work desk and easily attaching it to her shoulder. 

Before you have a chance to protest, she gently grasps your chin and continues. “But we don’t have to.”

Your brows furrow. 

“Zaun isn’t exactly known for its baked goods,” you point out.

Sevika plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Doesn’t have to. We can make ‘em.”

She lets go and strides out of the room with the confidence only the head of Zaun could possess, leaving you scrambling after, suddenly rather nervous.

“We don’t- I mean- A trip to Piltover’s probably easier-” You splutter, ignoring the heat creeping up into your neck. 

She ignores you tossing open cabinets, placing bowls, flour, sugar, and more supplies you can’t even name. Her mechanical arm makes a series of clanking noises and suddenly the hand is swapped out with a pair of whisks, spinning and whirring. 

Well. Who’d’a thunk it. Big, strong, scary Councilor Sevika has portable baking attachments. 

“Bullshit, donuts aren’t that hard,” She dismisses, finally turning and catching sight of your sheepish demeanor. 

“You… do know how to bake… don’t you?”

You just smile apologetically and shrug. 

“Growing up, we just… bought them…” you explain, cringing internally at the way it sounds. Like you’re just another spoiled Piltie who didn’t have to do anything for herself. 

Sevika lets out a long-suffering sigh before waving you off. “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, it's not that hard. Grab the measuring cups from that drawer over there?”

You nod and diligently retrieve the tools, placing them on the counter. Sevika very carefully takes you through the process, step by step, saying things like Preheat the oven for just a few minutes to raise the dough and Don’t overmix, otherwise the texture will be completely off. You’d never say it to her face, but you know she’s treating you rather gently. It’s something you greatly appreciate. 

After throwing a kitchen towel over the bowl of donut dough and placing it into the warm oven, you turn to Sevika, grinning. It’s soft, but she’s smiling at you, too. There’s a quiet pride in her dark eyes as she watches you, and the look makes your chest swell with warmth.

You dust flour off your hands. The kitchen’s a mess; you’re a mess. There's flour all over the counters, the floor, the bowls, Sevika's arm, your hands, arms and face. There's a new pile of dirty dishes in the sink. But neither of you really mind. 

“Where’d you learn to bake so well?” You ask, moving over and leaning against her, resting your head against her chest. 

Her chin presses against the top of your head and she slings her arm around your shoulders. 

“My old man,” she explains. “Said we didn’t get the privilege of getting things handed to us, so we had to learn how to make things ourselves.”

Your face clouds with a little guilt, the doubt from earlier festering in your mind once again. 

Sevika sighs, “I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s alright,” You say, shaking your head, feeling your hair brushing against her chin, “I get it. I’m learning.”

She pulls her face back, tips your head up, and gives you a kiss. Her hand lowers to your hip and she smoothly flips you both, so your lower back presses against the edge of the counter. 

You have an hour and a half of rise time to kill, after all. 

~*~*~

It took a long time, and lots of lessons, but you did eventually get the hang of it, shadowing Sevika in the kitchen whenever you got the chance. And, when her birthday rolled around, you woke her up with possibly the messiest cake she’d ever seen. 

She ate the entire thing in bed with you.

[rosedpetal]

Omg I didn’t know u wrote for Robert chase 🙈 I loved ur last fic of his! Could I request a fic of him spending a day off w his s/o? Like going out for breakfast, and then grocery shopping and maybe like a bookstore stop 💗

Hey girl, I'm so SORRY for how long it took me to write this. I'd tried to keep this as sweet as possible. Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 705

Masterlist

The alarm went off loudly on your phone and you groaned, inattentively turning it off. Robert yawned, gently pushing your body away and untucking his arm under you, stretching it.

"Seriously, baby? On my day off?" He half teased, pressing a kiss on the nape of your neck.

"That's what you get for telling me I'm fat." You mumbled, with your eyes still closed.

"Let me guess, I said that to you in your dream?" His lips softly trailed the shell of your ear and you giggled at how ticklish it made you feel, a trail of goosebumps appearing on your arms.

"Hmmm, maybe."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Robert had his fair share of relationships before, and he knew better than to ask you for the details of whatever insecurity your subconscious induced in your sleep, no matter how ridiculous he thought it was – considering you were the hottest thing alive in his humble opinion.

"What are our plans for today?" He asked, his fingers trailing your stomach, eager to change topics. You squealed when he poked at your side.

"I thought we could laze around all day?" You suggested. You weren't a morning person, and the thought of being on his arms all day was a very welcomed one.

"No way." Robert scoffed, sitting up, to your disappointment.

"Why not?" You tried to hide the pout in your face.

"Because, sleepyhead, House is not gonna bother me for 24 hours and I wanna be awake to actually enjoy it. Or you know, I might end up dreaming about patients and-"

"Okay, I get it." You said, huffing slightly and trying to turn away from his grip only to be met with tiny kisses peppered all over your face. "I'm awake!" You hummed in contentment when his lips finally met yours.

Robert pulled back just a little, his blue irises on yours, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Let's have breakfast in that little café you won't shut up about it."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Yes, I'll marry you."

He chuckled when you quickly got up, going straight to the shower and following right after you.

Robert could now understand your obsession with the café. It had the best coffee he drank in a while, and the pastries were delicious. Also, his stomach did that little flip thing it always did whenever he saw your eyes shining at something you enjoyed.

After paying the bill, the two of you took a little stroll in the neighborhood, stopping by the local market to buy some stuff you run out of.

You were picking up some vegetables, already trying to decide what you'd cook tonight. Maybe something with tomato sauce?

Jokingly, you pointed to the strawberries. "Hey, how about those?"

"If you're trying to kill me, go for it." He rolled his eyes playfully, since he had that severe strawberry allergy that could put him in the grave.

"Nah, I'm just kidding. You're way too handsome to die. Specially by my hands." You wrapped your arms around him from behind, standing in your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Except if we're talking about la petit mort."

He suppressed a groan. You could be such a brat when you wanted to. "Keep whispering this stuff to me, and we'll skipping that trip to the bookstore you've been begging me for weeks now."

A little whine, and your hands weren't on him anymore. Smiling to himself, Robert accompanied you to the the local bookstore in the corner.

You weren't even interested in browsing a lot. Most of the popular books you saw on TikTok you've already had read or or didn't finish, so you just picked a coloring book and Robert, very sweetly, paid for it along with some new coloring pens for you.

When you got home, you put the veggies you picked in a bowl with water, spreading your new coloring pens and book on the dining table. Robert, leaning against the wall, cleared his throat. "You're not forgetting about anything?"

You knew that face. His blue eyes fixed on you, gaze a little hazy. You giggled and ran to him, jumping on his lap, and happily, he carried you to your shared bed.

[cosmereplay]

Having just read the Tien scene in Rhythm of War, I'm having many feelings about this shitty stew in chapter 33 of WaT. From Rhythm of War chp 108 Moments:

"I'm not strong enough," Kaladin whispered.

"You're strong enough for me."

"I'm not good enough."

"You're good enough for me."

"I wasn't there."

Tien smiled. "You are here for me, Kal. You're here for all of us."

"And..." Kaladin said, tears on his cheeks, "if I fail again?"

"You can't. So long as you understand."

And now here's Kaladin strong enough to try making a stew for Szeth. It turns out not good enough for Kaladin, but it's good enough for Szeth. Kaladin reaffirms his dedication to be there for Szeth.

He's using every moment, even if it's embarrassing, even if he sucks at it, even if he doesn't see the fruits of his efforts right away. Kaladin, a man who was suicidal a few days ago, and still has dark thoughts saying it doesn't matter, they all die anyway, is purposefully planting seeds, knowing he may never see them bloom. He's willing to fuck it up. He's willing to do what feels to him like a half-assed job. And it's saving him!!! Aaaugh it's so poignant and so brave and so wonderful.

Tien would be proud.

[lnfours]

Hey girl, could you maybe do something fluffy with Lando? Really just anything. Thank you ily🫶

of course i can 🫶🏻

warnings: fluff, language, lando not being sure on how to ask his crush out on a date

lando brainrot? lando brainrot.

max looked over at his friend with raised eyebrows, watching as the boy he had known almost his whole life watched the girl across the room with an expression he only wore when you were around.

unbeknownst to him, everyone knew of lando’s soft spot for you. how he’d open doors for you, insist on paying for your coffee, how he’d show up to the apartment with little gifts from all around the world simply because ‘they reminded him of you’. it was really no secret, but it wasn’t like he was doing a good job at hiding it.

especially right now, his eyes filling with that look as he watched you talk with oscar at the mclaren event he had invited you and max to. you had picked out a stunning dress that hugged you in all the right places and had complimented your skin tone so well. he was half tempted to thank ria for convincing you to splurge on the silk dress.

“would you just go talk to her?” max groaned, taking a sip from his drink.

lando whipped his head around to his best friend, “what?”

“you heard me,” max chuckled, “she’s not going to stay single for long, y’know. plus, she’s into you, what’ve you got to lose?”

lando was more focused on the second sentence coming from his best friends mouth, “she’s into me?”

max rolled his eyes, “anyone with eyes can see the two of you drooling over each other anytime you’re in the same room.”

“i don’t drool,” lando teased back, saying it matter-of-factly.

“yeah? what’s that? right there?” max teased and lando shoved his arm playfully.

“shut up, mate.”

just then, your eyes had landed on your friends, smiling before you made eye contact with the brunette, waving him over, “lan, c’mere!”

max leaned closer to his friend, whisper yelling to him, “this is your chance!”

lando shook his head, walking to where you were laughing with his teammate. you smiled at his presence, motioning over to oscar, “i was just telling him about how i beat you in karting that one time.”

“yeah?” lando asked, turning to his friend, “did she also tell you that she almost crashed at the first turn?”

oscar laughed, a look of amusement on his face as he looked over at your gasping face, “no, she didn’t!”

you slapped his arm playfully, slightly giggling, “no i didn’t!”

“whatever you say, love,” he hummed, looking down at your drink that was almost empty, “want another drink?”

you twisted your lips in thought before shrugging, “sure,”

“i’m gonna go find lily,” oscar said, “ill catch up with the two of you later.”

you both nodded and bid a small goodbye before you looked over at your best friend, a small smile on your face, “accompany me to the bar?”

he smiled, offering you his arm, “it’d be my pleasure.”

you linked your arm with his, hand resting on his bicep as the two of you walked through the crowd.

“you look gorgeous tonight, by the way.” lando stated, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him speak.

your cheeks felt hot, but you looked up at him anyway, “thank you,” your eyes traveled over his suit, “guess you clean up well, too.”

he smiled, looking over his outfit, “you think so?”

you nodded, stepping in front of him as the both of you approached the bar, reaching up to fix his tie, “i know so.”

“fancy another drink?” the bartender had cut the moment short, you turning back around to face the man in front of you who wore a polite smile.

“yes, please. i’ll have another vodka cran,” you smiled, looking back at lando, “and a water for him.”

the bartender nodded, “coming right up.”

you turned back to your friend who was already looking back at you before he spoke up, “you having a good time?”

you nodded, “i am, thank you for inviting me.”

“it’s actually really nice having you here,” he said, “wish you could come to all of these.”

“me too.”

“here you are, a vodka cran and a water for the gentleman.”

you thanked the bar tender, taking the cups from the bar top before you handed the water to the man behind you. he accepted it, you raising your glass to his.

“to another year with mclaren,” you smiled, “and more podiums.”

“and us.” he smiled back at you before the both of you clinked your cups, taking sips shortly after.

“mm,” he hummed, swallowing his drink down before he continued, “i’ve got a question for you.”

you raised an eyebrow, “hmm?”

“would you want to..” he trailed off, his eyes on yours as he suddenly felt the nerves come over him in a rush, “um, did you want to maybe get dinner?”

you looked at him, “as friends or… as in a date?”

he swallowed, trying to suppress his nerves, “a date.”

you smiled again, for what felt like the hundredth time, and each time was because of the boy in front of you. you nodded, taking a sip of your drink.

“i’d love to.”

i’m his nerves washed away, grinning down at you, “really?- uhm, how about friday? when i’m done training?”

you nodded, “sounds perfect.”

he nodded back at you, “okay, cool- i mean, great!”

you laughed softly at his nervous stammering, “pick me up at 6?”

he opened his mouth to speak before getting cut off by the sound of someone calling his name. he looked over to where it was coming from, spotting jon and zak waving him over.

“6 is good,” he nodded, “i’ll catch you in a bit?”

you grinned back at him and nodded, “come find me.”

he smiled and nodded, making his way over to his trainer and his boss, looking back over at you with a smile before turning his attention back to the conversation.

a presence joined you at the bar, watching you watch the man across the room, “did he finally ask you?”

you didn’t have to look at the person next to you to realize who it was, the australian accent giving it away, “yeah, he did.”

“thank god,” oscar sighed, “you’re all he talks about, y’know.”

you smiled over at the aussie next to you, “i know,”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running To You 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You’re rescued by a man who you don’t even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers

Note: a stressed out steve rogers plus a cutie. it bloomed from the theory of Steve’s beard being a symbol of his darker side, or a darker state of mind. In the wat that he would usually pride himself on a neat appearance but lets himself go a bit when he’s not at his best.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The door hits the frame, waking you from a fraught slumber painted with dreams of sludgy shadows. You sit up and the cot rocks slightly, knocking on the wall as you steady it. Your heart races before you recognise Steve and the night before comes flooding in. The smell of jasmine is still overwhelming.

Steve sighs and jiggles the handle. He keeps trying to make the door stick. You rub your eyes as you turn your legs over the edge of the cot.

"Is it broken?" You ask.

"Looks like. Didn't even notice last night," he lets it go and faces you. "With everything else... good thing I stayed."

"Um, yeah. Thanks," you scratch your shoulder. "Sorry you had to sleep on the floor."

"No problem. Like I said, could be worse. You could be seriously hurt."

"Uh, I guess," you stand up. Your shorts stick and you tug the legs free from between your thighs. You should put on real clothes. "I'll call the landlord."

"You said it took him a while before to fix it." He tuts.

"Sure but, this is worse, I'm sure he'll come right away," you shrug. "You've done enough. Really. I feel bad."

His eyes wander around and his forehead creases. "I can fix the door. I'd rather make sure it's done."

"Steve--"

"It's easy. Won't take much."

"Well, er, Steve, I appreciate that but I have some stuff to do."

"Oh yeah? I can help," he offers.

You sigh. "No, you shouldn't. I-- I already feel awful waking you up--"

"You'd feel worse if you didn't," he insists. He grips his hips as he stares you down. "I still mean what I said last night. This place isn't safe for you."

"There's people worse off."

"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you."

You shrug. He's impossible to argue with but you know he means well. You appreciate that he worries yet you feel bad for the same thing.

"I gotta take these packages down to the post office." You change the subject.

"Great, I'll go with you," he says.

You look at him. "If you want. I'll get dressed."

"Mind if I try to freshen up in the bathroom?" He asks.

"Erm, sure."

You open the small set of drawers next to your cot. You take out a pair of denim capris and a square neck tee. The bathroom door clicks and you check to make sure he's gone. You quickly change then look around.

Your phone. Last night, you never went to find it. It fell out in the hall during your struggle with Mike. You chew your thumb as you look at the door. You're nervous at the thought of seeing him again.

You grab your purse instead and check your wallet. There's that at least. You take out your rolling cart and focus on filling it with the small packages.

Steve emerges. "Your turn."

"Oh, yeah," you smile and cross the apartment. "Thanks."

You flit past him into the bathroom. You wash your face, brush your teeth, moisturize. You tidy your hair and skip the mascara, only smearing on a layer of gloss.

As you come out, Steve stands at the small kitchenette. He shuts the mostly empty cupboard. You cringe.

"You looking for something?" You ask.

"I was going to try to make you breakfast," he turns and leans on the short counter.

"Oh don't worry about that."

"Clearly you're not. There's a can of beans and half a bag of rice in there." He rebukes.

You wince, "Steve, I'm fine. I don't eat breakfast."

"And is that a choice or a necessity?"

You huff and hug yourself. "You're making me feel bad."

"I'm not meaning to. I'm concerned." He once more frames his hips in disapproval.

"It's nice that you care, really. It's just food."

"How much does it cost to do all this? You breaking even on that pine soap?" He wonders.

"I do okay. I keep the lights on," you march to the cart and shoulder your purse. "I have to get this in the mail or I won't get paid."

He sucks his teeth but doesn't argue further. He nears and puts his hand on the cart handle next to yours. "At least let me get this."

"Uh, okay," you crinkle your nose. The smell of jasmine is starting to really bother you. It almost smells like burning plastic.

You go out into the hall. You glance around but don't see our phone. If it wasn't smashed, it was probably snatched. Steve rolls the cart out and turns to the door. He uses one of the mixing sticks you use to jam it shut.

"It will have to do. There a hardware store near here? I'll grab the lock while we're out."

"Sure. On the way back," you say.

He follows you outside. The cart rattles loudly. Your nerves too.

You're embarrassed. He's seen more of your life than anyone has. He just doesn't get it. You'd rather scrape by on your own then go back to before. The idea of another boss breathing down your neck, feeling up your skirt-- No, that's not going to happen.

"You okay?" He asks, startling you out of your gloom.

"Oh, yeah. Thinking."

"About last night? Mike?" He suggests.

"A little. More about the candles I wanna make with the beeswax I ordered." You drone. "Oh, and reusable food wrap."

"Huh," he clucks. "You got a lot of ideas."

"I like making things. It's peaceful."

"Fair. I always enjoyed drawing." He says. "Before... well, it's been a while."

"Really? You draw?"

"Novice at best," he snorts.

"Hey, Rogers, how's it goin', guy?" A man passes by and salutes. Steve offers him a tense smile and his throat bobs.

You look back as the man struts on. That was strange.

"You know him?" You ask.

He shakes his head, "can't remember from where."

"Oh, yeah, that's always awkward."

You continue down the block and make your way to the post office. You hold the door as Steve pulls in the cart. He brings it to the counter and helps you unload the labeled parcels. The employee behind the counter scans them.

"New customs policy, there's an amount owing, miss," the clerk stands at the till. "Two-hundred and seventy three."

"What? I paid online? How can they change?" You squeak.

"I don't make the prices," he shrugs.

"Oh..." you blink. You don't have that much money. You don't even have two dollars and seventy three cents."

"No problem," Steve reaches into his back pocket. "American Express?"

"Yes, sir," the clerk stares at Steve before he points to the swipe machine.

"No, Steve--"

Too late. The machine chirps as his payment goes through. He slides the card away and tucks his wallet into his pocket.

"Receipt?" The clerk asks.

"Sure," Steve waits then takes the slip. "Have a good day."

"You too, Cap."

The reply tugs at your brain. Cap? That's an odd epithet.

You leave the post office, stewing in a new boil of humiliation. He just had to do that. You wring your hands behind your back anxiously.

"Thanks for that. I'll pay you back."

"Oh, you will. And I know exactly how," he declares. "You are going to eat a proper breakfast."

He points across the street to the small diner on the corner.

"No, that's not--"

"That's what I want. Fair trade."

"You must think I'm a real loser," you murmur.

"I don't. I think you're in hard times but a little help isn't a bad thing," he counters. "Besides, I'm trying to show you I'm listening. You want this business to work so I'm making an investment. Because I trust you." He reaches up with his free hand and touches his beard. "And I know you make quality stuff."

🩷

You walk out of the diner with leftovers. Breakfast was much more than you expected and you hate to waste food. Steve drags the cart with no uneaten bounty of his own. A man his size could easily clear at least another plate.

"Thanks, Steve. That was really good," you preen.

"I like the local places. You can tell they use real ingredients."

"Oh, yeah," you agree. If only he knew the amount of ramen you eat...

"Coffee's decent too. That's what really gives it away," he continues on. "Oh, the hardware store, where was that?"

"Not far," you assure him.

You guide him to the small shop with a bunch of plants outside and a spinning rack of seeds. You go inside, single file as the narrow aisles crowd Steve's large figure. He finds the right section and browses intently. He grabs a handle and a deadbolt. You mull the price tags. That's another line in the ledger.

He pays. Again. You don't even try to pretend you can. He's probably already figured you out.

Back on the street, you're hit with the stench of smoke. You scrunch up your face and look at Steve. He lifts his nose.

"Fire," he says.

"Oh... no." Sirens blast by you as a fire truck honks. Traffic honks back, inconvenienced by the emergency. You watch the big red engine turn the corner, toward you building. "Must be close by."

"Must be," he says as you cross the street.

The cart bounces, empty so it jars over each crack. As you come in sight of your building, your heart plummets. The fire engine is right in front of the apartment. The thick grey smoke billows up from the windows, curling around the brick walls.

"No," you gasp and hurry forward. "It can't be."

"Hey, sweetheart, don't get too close," Steve grabs your arm. "Smoke inhalation is dangerous."

"My apartment! My stuff!" You squeal and drop the container, fighting him to no end. He's strong. Inhumanly so. You look at his hand. "Steve, let me go."

"I can't. You'll get hurt."

"I'm not going to go inside. I'm not stupid."

"Let them work. They're the only ones who can do anything," he argues. "You'll just be in the way."

You pout. He's right. That doesn't make this any easier.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he clings to you.

You shake your head and gape up as flames lick outside and furl around the brick. You stagger and press your palms to your cheeks. Even if they do put out the fire, it's too late. After last night, you just can't believe this. Why does everything have to go so wrong?

🩷

"They'll have to keep investigating. That much damage, they can't permit entrance," Steve explains from your vantage.

You stay clear of the other residents, crowded around the firemen and other emergency personnel. They're a hoard, raging at the innocent. You're upset but not angry.

"It's a structural hazard. Same as you need a permit and inspections according to the building code," he continues on. "These things..." he sighs.

You drop your head. You stare at your shoes. You almost laugh. What a waste of time. The profit you make from those packages won't make a dent in surviving this. If you hadn't been so adamant about getting them shipped, you might have been able to save your apartment, or at least a few things.

"I got room. You can crash with me."

"Steve..." you utter.

"Well? Unless you got somewhere else?"

"No," you confess weakly. "I don't."

He's quiet for a moment. "Sorry. I know how that feels and that's not what I meant. But you got me now, doll. Not everything is lost, right?"

"Cap?" A fireman approaches. "Hey, you here about the fire? You hear something?"

Steve's jaw ticks and he looks over tersely at the man in his heavy helmet. "No, I--"

"This isn't some terrorist stuff, is it?" The fireman asks. "I mean, why else they sending you?"

"I was passing by," Steve twitches. "I'm not working right now."

"Ah, gee, I'm sorry. I just figured..." the man looks between you. "Sorry for bothering."

Steve purses his lips and rolls his eyes. He's irritated. You fidget next to him.

"Sorry, about that--" he begins.

"Are you a fireman?"

He shakes his head as his mouth slants. "Not exactly. I... I deal with emergencies though."

"Right..." You think. There's something you're missing and it feels so obvious.

"Mama," a child's voice trickles through. "It's Captain America."

You peek over to a young child points in your direction. You look back at Steve as he rubs the back of his neck. He smiles sheepishly.

"Really, I'm just Steve," he says.

[haveihitanerve]

Ze Blackberry Is Here. Back with more commentary. Y'all know the drill, hope you enjoy :)

“Its gonna be OSCAR nominated! BAFTA award winning!” I believe it! (truthfully, i have never seen this skit before, so this will be my first time watching it, I know, I know, shame, i've been a fan for a little under a year and i've never seen Ze Blackberry? But im here to remedy that now, and I believe it'll be beautiful and oscar winning)

Tom making eye contact with AJ and grabbing his chair and AJ just following suit- they communicate without words i love it

Also side note- Aj has hair..... anyway now carry on

“Captured by ze germans!” AJ’s side glance over his shoulder at Luke as he says it- cheeky little shit :)

“Look at ‘em, the Aryan look.” Sam enjoyed that one :) Aj chuckling at his own joke too

“Oh! If he was only a foot and a half taller he’d be a perfect nazi!” Of course we have to go for the cheap shot, love it!!- also- Aj already cracking before he finishes the joke, beautiful, he knew where it was going

Luke’s smile and side eye- gorgeous boy

Tom and Aj cracking when they see Sam- honestly wow, they were much more relaxed with laughing on stage from what i can see lol- Aj literally looks to the heavens like “give me strength!!”

“Oh my god! Its Hanz van Purple Buerer!” stellar joke AJ, really: 10/10

Luke laughing in the corner

The person who screeched with laughter in the audience that it sounded like a door being opened has my heart- so real

“The blackberry himself has come to deal with us.” AJ's snort of laughter, Luke’s slow smile, and Sam’s resigned grin as he looks at his outfit

“JA! Ze Blackberry is here.” Perfect quote. 10/10

“Hello my little pocket sized aryan” i knew he loved the joke- also idk what Luke does just then, but it looks really cool- the little foot tap together of a soldier standing at attention or smth idk

Luke just reciting his NPC German phrases he knows XD (as a german tho, decent accent, pretty good)

Tom and AJ absolutely baffled XD- genuinely asking “did he just sniff his ear?” with such concern- priceless lol- “i think he wants to fuck him” idk why aj emphasized, or rather didn't, fuck, but it really adds something... je ne sais quoi

“Just flying a plane, over berlin-” Aj chuckling because he knows damn well that was a bad excuse wtf Tom’s gonna make it sooo much worse XD “just normally!” there it is!

“During ZE SEKOND VORLD VAR!?!?!” Sam- woah

“I call it a good time to goooo…” Hes really looking for an excuse here- “parachuting” nailed it, perfect delivery- he wont suspect a thing

“Les frere parachutes!” Ok Aj, flaunt that french i see you

Sam smacking Tom(not literally, they havent gotten to that point yet- but just wait until Old Lady Margaery) and Aj also flinching- grinning before Sam even says anything because he knows, he just knows he shouldn't have

“ZHAT IS HOW YOU ZLAP ZE MASTER WAY!!!” The slap was so good Sam had to break the fourth wall lmaooo

“Von ponte!” Idk why thats funny- but AJ laughed immediately after saying it, so its probably a french joke of a location or smth??? Or not at all?? Idk im not french

AJ’s genuine look at concern over to Tom when sam said “staler and harder” 

“Don't- don't let them make me get hard!” AJ has given up and is now just looking down trying not to break- real

“Oh i think he wants- *uncontrollably afraid head nodding* they both want the fucking-” 

“In many ways thats better, its better as a two way street” Tom our consensual king… that sounded wrong- but consent matters!

AJ’s scream of genuine terror XD

“Then maybe you'll have a, you know, you'll come in like 70 years for a bit and it'll be weird and then you'll fuck off again!” Tom getting into actual history, love when they do that, adds intentional and unintentional humor- also love how the girl(sry idk her name) has just decided she does not want to be a part of whatever the fuck this is and is just watching

AJ’s singing!!!!! YAY!!! (actually one of the most compelling reasons why i wanted to watch this lmaoo) also the way he makes eye contact with Luke and immediately breaks mid song

Sam being a random unidentified animal as Tom casually strokes his back- for absolutely no reason but they couldn't let Aj be the only weird one in the scene- solidarity ig??? Whatever the reason its fucking hilarious

“Im- in the wrong place.” yes AJ wtf are you doing XD???

“How are you Sarah?” YES UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN!!! MAKE LUKE FEMALE!!!

The eruption of laughter as Luke contemplates how to handle this new piece of information about himself

“Well he didn't come ‘ome so!” Fair point, fair point

“You're being- ridicule.” the casual slipping in of random french words they picked up from duolingo, or, y'know, AJ ig, is beautiful

“I know of an admirer” Audience member: oooh Luke: *shoots them a glance, eyebrow raised* idk man any interaction with the audience and im a sucker for it-

“Ok Xavier will have to wait until Jean-Luc is “officially dead” then” idk who this girl is but shes funny XD-

“She said i would also meet a man called Javier.” *does quick calculations of how many people are already characters and how many more plots they can afford to fit into the already moving script….* “But I already met him and he was… very ugly.” Luke- lmaoo

Aj- my king i love you

THE WAY THE GIRL LITERALLY HAS TO TURN AWAY WHEN TOM ENTERS

REAL

Can i just mention real fast- when AJ collapses, faints, wtv- Tom tries to catch him before realizing that “oh its part of the bit ok” -like??? His arm swings back because he was trying to be a support for Aj to lean against, not expecting him to completely swoon to the floor- anyway they're cute

“No no no no-” oh here comes the scene *the writer is giddy with excitement* “i will give her, ze kiss of life.” *then genuinely surprises Aj with a kiss because his hand twitches with the movement XD* “I could ‘ave mimed it, but i deed not” Tom you absolute king-

*licks Luke’s hand like a weirdo* like lol Tom what was that???

“I don't know the french word for mice-” *AJ has been summoned* i just love how he spawns in, so ready to share his native language, its too cute 

And Tom promptly picking up on it :)))))) so cute

“To keep me satisfiiiiiiied.” The chair tilt- ughnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn *deceased*

Also- Luke is completely at ease. He’s a bit surprised, sure, but he keeps his legs floating, crossed, has complete faith that Tom will keep him steady and is not worried at all about finding stability himself- they’re so fucking adorable help-

Toms hand on his neck 😭

“Do not be afraid. Xavier is here.” Well i've never felt safer in my life so-

“Im just a bit lonellyyyy” lmao this girl is fun! “Make sure you get the right buttock, its the good one! But the left one is good as well!” Ofc it is Xavier, of course

“III am a man.” thank you for making sure we know that Xavier…

SAM AND AJ!!!! WHAT !!!! XD IM DYING!!! They planned out, and then actually went through with, meeting on opposite sides of the stage, wearing their medieval helmets, and decided to charge at each other, in that exact moment- fuck i love them sm omg- XD

AJ’s little finger flick to indicate Tom to come over 😭 subtle things and i love them so much-

Tom: *casually yeets himself across stage*

“I can feel it in the… breeze.” smooth aj, makes sense, yes yes ofc ofc, very airtight reasoning

“Its- its the- nazi looking guy!” LMAOOO poor luke XD

“FRANCOISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” AJ has a lot of breath support damn

The silence as Sam continues clopping along, debating whether or not to point out that girl- i really should learn her name- just casually jumped onto a moving wagon or smth idk lol

AJ: *just casually starts sobbing* Sams wife: if you’re thirsty you could just drink it!!! LMAOOOOO

“By the way while you were captured,*AJ smiling already because he knows what's coming* the nazis occupied us.” both laugh. cuties

“BIG HANDS! This is big Hans.” Sam not being able to speak in order to not burst out laughing. I know AJ is so glad to have a pumpkin covering his face so he can laugh lmaooo

“Well you could have surrendered better.” Sam having to look down to laugh XD

“No zey, zey really couldn't.” Luke- you're german yeah? Not french…

“We are French, we are very good at surrendering.” poor AJ lmaooo XD

“That joke would be dated, but its 1942 so…” setting a time period, nice work Tom lol

“Les coqs! Hah!” Luke just wants to be French atp lmaooo

Tom walking right through the stagecraft horses. Tsk tsk

“Reach in there, grab a big coq and eat it.” he saw the joke and he took it, golden. 

Luke: *casually stroking AJ’s hair and entire face without any regard* love them so much omg-

I said it once and ill say it again: their slow motion stuff is sooooo good, especially because usually only one person starts it- like AJ- and its subtle at first, but the others pick up on it so fast it quickly becomes noticeable but like they notice it before the audience- anyway…

“Lets go- fuck!” …. “What???” "WHAT???" “It doesn't matter!” No i think it does aj what were you going to say????

*speedy horse noises*

Sam and Aj moving in time together as they transition to the next scene 😭they're always so in sync it hurts

The way the camera angle only sees Luke, and then Tom’s leg just appears. Beautiful cinematography. the cameraman knows what the people want😏

“I am an improvised comedian, it does not pay well *pouts*” I feel like you're bringing a lot of reality into this scene Frankie…

Luke cant even laugh, its true 😭

Damnnnnn. Like i've seen Xavier edits ofc, but now i've seen the play and now i know- gawddddsss

“If you are such a man zen why are u not fighting ‘or francez freedohm?” Oh damn Sarah does not play- yes Jean-Luc your wife still has faith in you… i hope. Pls give me a luke/aj relationship- pls(so far they haven't even been in one scene together as a married couple 😭)

“Chat got your tongue?” … i laughed wayyy too hard at that and Luke looks wayyy to proud of it too…

“Im doing a lovely job ‘ere.” yes you are queen, yes you are

“Thought you said it wasn't dirty- its horrible.” yes queen!!! Tell him!!! “Look at it!” she sounds so genuinely disappointed. “Its dust! You know what dust is? Its skin. Human skin and rat poo.” girl you keep monologuing till your heart is content this is wonderful

Tom and Luke are too stunned to speak :0

“Are you quite finished?” damn Luke… tt. “I mean im not if im honest about it..” yes queen!!!! Don't let him interrupt you XD

“Do you want to know what-” *blinks in trilingual* “am i german am i french?” shakespeare ok

DAMN that slap was perfect! And this is a time when its still fake, i see i see lol

“Viva la france!” Audience member: viva la france! Loving this solidarity lol

“Im off now.” “oh fuck off already!” Sarah is done  lmaooo

Aj coming in with the French… what is it called? Battle cry of France? Slogan? Whatever Fraternity, Egalite and Eternite is for France… i should truly know what its called… slogan… ok whatever i'm digressing-

“That is right. I was tortured by.. *thinks back to very beginning of play* two men… getting... with each other next to me..” *said while looking at one of said men and having just ridden other said man into the scene* also wow- how did, whoever suggested it, suggest that idea???? Anyway-

“They are always doing that the nazis.” Casually Sam and Luke being the ones to say it…

“I just wanted to tease ‘im a little bit. I’m french its in my nature!!!” even Sam is flabbergasted that he said it right to AJ’s face lmaooo

“So where is your kni- awww.” Tom was so ready lol

“When i say knife… I mean HUGE katana.” *laughs* idk why but this sentence just tickles my brain properly for some reason 

“Ye-es?” Sam i cant. Aj struggling not to laugh, Tom questioning how he can hit Sam without messing up the scene, and Luke just going for the joke- “where did you get my dildo?” priceless XD

“Thats a good… whatever you are.” thats what we all want to know too, but its safer not to ask…

Sam singing epic fight song. Glorious

The blood- i cant breathe- XD

This just might be the best possible kiss scene in all of SFTH history omg- the way Luke walks to AJ- cups his cheeks, then wraps his arms around his neck as AJ hugs him completely, turning so that Luke is dipped low, and Luke’s legs go limp, trusting AJ to hold him up without any fear, its so cute and so tender and omg i love them sm-

ANyway that was Oh My God, Is This A Joke? Very glad i finally got around to watching it, absolutely beautiful play as always boys, wow, and AJ still had hair, anyway gorgeous. 

Also i feel the need to point out that in this one every single person was trying to get with Luke at one point or another. Thats all. Byebye now!

@dawn-speckled @snek-of-eden

[lethalchiralium]

White Carnations | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: HNNNGGG THE BRAINROT IS BACK ITS REAL. (thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for help with this and to @halfmoth-halfman for the lovely missus art they made 🥹)

warnings: mentions of doctor’s offices, hospitals. mentions of intense grieving, mentions of miscarriage and pregnancy.

summary: Two more days until Simon has to leave his home, and he wants to spend as much time as he can with his oldest daughter.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Rain in England is normal.

To Simon, it makes him feel safe. The rain means calm, the rain means cover, the rain means his daughter sleeps through the night. He doesn’t ever go outside when it’s raining and he’s home, he’s usually inside with a squirrely Winnie, wanting to play and have fun - but today was different.

The forecast said a chance of rain, it had rained for a few days straight - the sun was shining when he walked out of the house, Winnie holding his hand, chirping about her pretty blue dress. She wanted to wear her ladybug rain boots, and Simon could never say no to her. They walked to the tram, he picked her up so she didn’t run off as they waited.

It was warming up, Winnie begged and begged to wear her dress and her boots, and now she was happy. She watched as little bugs flew around while her father gazed at her little face, brushing away a curl that failed to remain in her ponytail. She didn’t even notice, it was an infinitely small detail in her grand scheme of her little world, but it was important to Simon that she could see everything his world had to offer - so he pushed the strand behind her ear. He would never shy her away from telling her the truth about what really happens, but he wanted to keep her like this - wide eyed with a toothy smile that only admired the beauty in his ugly world.

Two days. He had two days until he tucks his five year old into bed, kisses her good night, and leaves her for the hundredth time. Two days until he puts down his almost one year old, kisses her little head, and leaves her for the first time. People needed saving, the world needs people to shove their hands into the bloodbath of war to wash the rest of humanity of their sins. He has to put on the mask his oldest never feared but his youngest will, he has to pick up the rifle that has killed men with daughters like his own. He may pretend the blood doesn’t stain, but it leaves burns underneath his skin when he checks their wallets; when he sees a picture all too similar to one he’s taken of his own children.

The tram slowed to a stop, it was packed full of people, just like it always was. He stepped on, Winnie settled her head on his shoulder as he found a place to stand - against the window, watching everyone on the train and making sure he had enough space between himself and the three people around him. There has never been such a thing as being too careful.

Winnie’s leg was digging the pack of cigarettes in his pocket into his side, a habit he’s been trying to quit since Winnie was born. He was close to finally being done with it, but sometimes he needed to clear his head - even with all of the anxiety settling into his stomach, he wouldn’t dare light one once he stepped off the tram. His daughter’s health was much more important than a stupid Marlboro.

“Dad,” She murmured, he moved his head a little to hear her better.

“What’s up, duckling?”

“Can we get Mummy something?”

He settled his cheek against her head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “What would we get her?”

His daughter shrugged a little. “Pretty flowers.”

“Pretty flowers.” He echoed, a smirk tugged at his lips underneath his medical face mask. “We can get Mum pretty flowers once we’re done with the doctors and with our ice cream, okay?”

She nodded, he patted her back. No matter how old she gets, he hoped she would still let him hold her - even when she’s got little ones of her own, she’s always going to be that little baby he stood by the window with, watching the rain and letting her be soothed by the sound of it. She will always be that little pink baby in the NICU, when her cries finally silenced as soon as her father held her. She will always be the girl Simon Riley had changed his life for.

“Pink flowers an’ red flowers an’ blue ones too, Dad.” Winnie whispered, her fingers curled around the collar of his leather jacket. He nodded, moving his head from hers as the tram alerted to their stop. He moved forwards a little, free hand held onto the rail next to the door as the tram began to slow down. “Are you getting strawberry ice cream?”

“Yes, baby.” He chuckled a little, stepping out of the tram as soon as the doors opened. People rushed past and into the crowded transportation, he didn’t have much care about it. All he was focused on was his daughter and potential threats to her safety. He held her a little closer as he crossed the street when every other person did, he was speed walking to make it to the hospital. Maybe he was a little late, it didn’t matter to him but it did to you. I’m trying to keep her healthy, you said. Get my baby to her appointment.

Winnie didn’t speak much when he entered the hospital, even when they were alone in the elevator. He was half convinced she had fallen asleep, but he dismissed it when she raised her head at the reception desk.

The lady behind the desk was one he’d seen before. She was always nice, she looked young. Isn’t a threat. Shut up. “How can I help you?”

“Winter Riley, appointment at 10 with Dr. Hughes.” Simon spoke with a calm tone, much quieter than his normal voice. Winnie buried her little face into his neck again as the receptionist typed away on her computer.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “She’ll be right out if you want to take a seat.”

Two exits. Stop.

“Dad.”

Before he knew it, he was sitting on an exam room guest chair, Winnie still curled up in his hold. He had tried to get her to sit on the exam table, but he understood why she didn’t want to. Simon couldn’t sit up there with her, so Winnie decided that being poked and prodded while cuddled in her father’s everlasting safety was much better than a cold padded table.

“Yeah, Win?”

“I want you to stay.”

Simon’s been stabbed before, shot, waterboarded, burned - but nothing had ever felt so painful as his daughter wanting him to stay home. He looked down at her head, her hands still clinging to him. She picked at the metal zipper teeth, head down like she was avoiding his gaze. He kissed her head and patted her leg with his hand.

“Just one more trip, lovie.”

“You say that every time.”

A hot knife slammed into his chest, the cold blood that thrummed through his heart as it began to sizzle, causing him pain. His entire chest filled with agonizing pain like the knife had stabbed him repeatedly. All he could do was force a smile, push her stubborn curl away from her face, and softly speak to her,

“I know.”

Simon went through the motions of pretending to be a human being. Speaking with the doctor, listening to her advice and her notes. He held his five year old as she got two immunization shots, let her scream and cry into his neck as he spoke to her in a soothing tone. She made him kiss her bandaid before the doctor put it on, listening to her as she babbles on about it being good luck. He memorizes his daughter’s face as she talks and talks, memorizes how heavy she is as he carries her out of the office, out of the hospital, and to the ice cream shop. Simon memorizes how little his daughter’s hand is as she stands on her toes, reading the ice cream flavors out loud so he can know what they are too.

He snapped back into his headspace like a freshly broken rubber band as he put down five quid on the counter, he took his bowl of strawberry ice cream as Winnie took her cotton candy swirl with both of her hands. He opened the door for her, the little girl stepped out onto the street and looked up to him, waiting for him to tell her where to go. Simon looked around before nodding his head to a bench only a few feet away. She instantly scampered away, jumping up to sit on it as Simon sat down beside her. Winnie instantly dug into her ice cream, completely unbothered by the cold breeze that breathed through the city streets.

He was quick when he took the picture of Winnie, knowing she doesn’t like to have her picture taken. He sent it to you, then slipped his phone back into his pocket before he softly spoke, “I’ll be home soon this time, I promise.”

Winnie paused in her eating, eyes not moving from her paper bowl and spoon. “I know.”

“Dad has to go away to work, duckling, you know that.” The pain in his chest hadn’t subsided yet, he hoped trying to get her to understand would help ease his mind. “Dad has to go be a hero.”

“I don’t want you to be a hero.” She murmured, sticking her spoon in her ice cream before scooping out a large portion of it. “I want you to be home with me and Mummy and Melsie.”

“Baby, you know Daddy loves you, yeah?”

She nodded.

His cup of ice cream settled in his lap as he gently pet his daughter’s head, she didn’t dare move. “And I’d do anything in the world for you. You know that too, right?”

“Mama tells me that.” She sniffled a little before shoving the spoon of ice cream in her mouth.

“Whatever Mum says, it’s true. But duckling, Daddy has to go. Do you know why?”

The girl shook her head as she pulled the spoon from her mouth, shoving it back into her ice cream.

“Because there are many little kids like you who don’t have a Mummy or Daddy to care for them. And big scary men make the world not safe, which means those kids aren’t safe either. That’s why I go.” He fixed her ponytail, one of her hands swatted his away. “The faster I get rid of the bad guys means the faster the world is safe, which means you’re safe. And when you’re safe, Daddy gets to come home. Does that make sense?”

Winnie shrugged, he grabbed his own ice cream.

“I promise that I’m gonna be gone on trips less, I’ll be home for a long time in a few months.”

“Why?”

After taking a bite of the ice cream flavor he hated, he responded. “Aunt Kate said so. I have a question for you, duck.”

She nodded, finally looking up to Simon, which made his cold heart full of sizzling pain suddenly become calm. There would never be a day where he wouldn’t love his daughter.

“How do you feel if Mum has another baby?”

The girl looked away, digging back into her ice cream. “I dunno.”

His shoulders slumped a little, worry settled deep into his bones like a curse. “Would you be…happy? Sad? Angry?”

She shrugged, spoon stirring the melting delicacy. “Happy, I guess.”

“You guess?”

His daughter looked up to him, a sad look on her face that hurt Simon deeper than he’s even known. “I don’t want Mummy to be sad again.”

Nevermind. That’s worse. Oh god, that’s worse.

Simon’s lips were pulled into a tight line as he took his daughter’s ice cream, setting both his and her cups beside him on the bench before he picked up Winnie. He placed her on his lap so he can look at her face, his hands then held her little ones, squeezing them gently.

“That’s true, little love. We were very sad for a bit, you remember, right?”

The little girl with dark hazel eyes looked up at her father with a hopeful look.

“Does Mummy have a baby in her belly?”

Simon Riley’s chest tightened, but his hands did not. He gently brushed his thumbs on the backs of his daughter’s hands.

“…She might. We’re not sure yet. Mummy needs to go to the doctors, just like you did today.”

“A different baby?”

He nodded. “Right. S’not the same baby as before.”

“Will this one go away too?”

“Plea-Please, please…” Sobs wrecked your body as Simon held you to his chest, you fought him. You fought his comfort, you fought his love because how could you do this? How could you break his heart?

“Baby, it’s okay,” He spoke into your ear, your nails dug crescents into his scarred skin. “It was just a bad dream, you’re okay.”

“I want my baby.” Those were the words you spoke almost every night for days and Simon never understood how those four words could keep shattering his heart. You kept dreaming of your son, your beautiful son who loved to play in the water, who loved to run and squeal and play fire truck with his sisters. The boy that you’ve wanted all your life, now that you have the two daughters you’ve dreamed of when you were little. You were in mental and emotional agony, Simon could feel it. And God, did he wish that pain could be given to him. He would do anything to make your pain subside, to take it away; but he knew he couldn’t. So he has laid beside you, for days on end, holding you and putting pressure on where it hurt like it was an oozing wound. His forehead in your shoulder, holding where his son used to be. He imagined pressing a dressing to a wound, trying to take himself out of the equation to neutralize the pain of it all. He was sure that son of his left a gaping wound in your chest and Simon had to choose which wound was worse - where his son was warm and loved oozed like a deep gash from a knife, or where his wife’s grief was gushing blood from a gunshot wound she didn’t even inflict.

You squeezed his hand, sobbing so hard you could barely breathe.

Simon watched as your tears fill the ocean that was drowning him. He can fix anything, he has fixed many problems in his life and he was begging somebody, anybody, to allow him to fix you. But he can’t; he hated that he couldn’t place a kiss to your cheek and have everything become right - that’s not how any of this works.

He pressed his lips to your shoulder blade as you stilled, his arms hot from the nightly hours he spent under the covers with you, his stomach curled with hunger. Your cries had stopped, your young and bashful heart causing you more pain as it flickered with life every second. The hand that had sat on your heart since he got back into bed after putting his daughters to sleep moved, ever so slowly, towards your cheek - resting on your hairline before gently moving, petting your head ever so carefully.

You bobbed in the ocean with him, breaching the waves and taking in greedy breaths of oxygen before being pulled under again. His hands always so desperate to hold onto you, to help you, could only reach so far before he had to take a breath of his own to dive deep, deeper, and to the deepest point of his core. He would force your head above water, even if it meant he would drown. He’s always been sure you could be better off without him.

Simon spent six days taking care of his grief-stricken wife, navigating the sea of mourning, trying to pull your head above the inky waves. With every crest of the waves of tears in his body, his strength would dwindle. But with every slow descent of Simon, came the rising phoenix that was you.

“I don’t know, love.” Simon bit his tongue for only a moment, just to rid his mind of the dark ocean he found his soul in for a moment.

He shouldn’t have to explain this to his child, he should be explaining about which room will change into her big girl room so he can switch the kids around. He should be talking with his daughter about how he is going to stay home after these next few missions. Explain that she will lose a little sleep too. But he isn’t. He’s sat on an old bench in front of an ice cream shop, eating his least favorite flavor of ice cream to please his daughter, and having to tell her that not every baby dies. He has to explain that her beautiful mother won’t have to be sad again.

“Sometimes that happens. Babies go away and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”

“Do we get to keep this one?”

He smiled at his daughter, even when he didn’t have the answer. Even when he felt a drop of rain on his head, reminding him how close he was to going beneath the waves in his mind. “I hope so. Do you want to keep this one?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you want a brother or sister?” He whispered, his hand grabbed her ice cream and settled it on her lap. Her hands instantly grabbed it, holding the small cup and spoon before whispering back.

“I want a brother like before.”

“Okay.” He nodded at his daughter before taking his ice cream cup back in his own hands. “Will you like the baby if it’s a girl?”

“Yeah. I just want a brother.” She shrugged, now more interested in her ice cream. He leaned forwards, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“Well, the baby decides that, okay? They’ll tell us when Mum gets a bit bigger.”

Winnie nodded again, before looking up at her dad again. “I love you, Daddy.”

His heart swelled, his smile didn’t falter as he spoke, “I love you too, my darling girl.” He set his most hated ice cream flavor down on the bench before picking Winnie up, placing her on her feet on the ground. “You ready to go home?”

He tossed two half empty cups into the trash next to the bench, making sure it made it into the food waste slot. He picked up his darling girl in her raincoat and rain boots, then made his way towards the tram as specks of rain dotted his head.

He watched the rain as it splattered against the tram windows, he helped his daughter into her blue raincoat he had kept in his own jacket, he huddled with the crowd of people under the station shelter when he had to change trams. Winnie hummed to herself, little fingers curled around the collar of his jacket.

“Daddy.”

He kissed her head. “Yes, my love?”

“Are we still getting flowers for Mummy?”

He sighed a little, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet before he muttered, “We can’t be in the rain for too long, you will get sick. I don’t think we should go today.”

The girl in his arms practically deflated. “But… But her flowers, Daddy… I want to get her flowers…”

“Flowers aren’t as important as you, my darling girl.” His large hand patted her back, hearing the squeak of her raincoat as the rain fell harder. He was under the shelter just enough, but the mist still coated his daughter’s hair and his face. “I want you to be home and healthy, not bundled up with me and poorly.”

“But… I want the flowers so I can tell Mama she’s pretty like you do.”

The tram rolled to a stop as his mental state was yanked above the waves it had been drowning in, his feet could barely touch the water as he felt his heart soar.

Kind. His mind sung, his heart singing along. My daughter is kind.

He quickly walked onto the tram, he grabbed an empty standing place as the tram became more full by the second. Winnie moved her head from his shoulder, eyes gazing at his face.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?”

The medical mask had sat in his pocket, so his daughter could watch how his lips grew a smile so wide. “You don’t need flowers to tell Mummy she’s pretty.”

He had counted the amount of people in the tram by that point, and without failure, he noticed the small crowd of people around him staring at him and his daughter. Even though he knew it wasn’t safe, he ignored them all. He focused on his daughter’s button nose, those hazel eyes that are glazed over with fatigue.

“I don’t?”

“No, my love,” He whispered, hand gently petting her head. “You tell her every time you think so, just for me. Can you do that?”

She nodded vigorously, his heart beat with such golden pride for his wonderful Winter.

“We’ll go get her flowers, my love. Just so you can tell your mummy she’s very, very, very pretty.”

The five year old giggled as he pushed the button for the next stop.

Winnie demanded to hold the bouquet on the way home. The flower shop with many options for the colors his daughter chose was a tram ride in the opposite direction of home, so now that the public transportation journey was over, all Simon had to do was walk home.

Much easier said than done.

The thunder was loud, lightning glimmered in the sky as the rain poured, but Winnie barely cared. Her little hood up, her ladybug boots squeaked with every step. His phone was strapped somewhere dry on the inside of his coat, the flowers Winnie was so excited to hold were clutched against her chest as he held her other hand, hurrying along his daughter as their home came into view. The porch light on, soft lighting casted upon his windows from inside his warm home. He squeezed Winnie’s hand. She squealed with laughter as she squeezed back, jumping into a puddle and drenching his jeans.

Simon used to be an angry man. Every little thing that went wrong would turn him into a ball of rage, everything that used to get him punched by his father made him angry. He ignored help, shunned people who wanted nothing more to help him feel okay. He remembered the days when he used to play in the rain and drench his father’s pants in muddy water. Those nights ended with four year old Simon in tears in his closet, blood oozing down his face from a cut on his forehead from his father’s rings. Simon remembered those moments with perfect detail. Every age, every time he hid himself under his bed, in his closet, in the fox hole behind the house, Simon was nursing wounds that should have had him in the hospital since he was two years old.

Simon Riley looked at his daughter and the sky blue hood over her head, the large bouquet of flowers clutched to her chest as her ladybug boots stomped in the puddle, splashing his jeans more and more.

He doesn’t feel anger. He doesn’t feel upset. He held his daughter’s hand as they finally walk up the lane to their home, helping her up the stairs to their porch and into the dry house his true family called home. He didn’t feel upset that she didn’t put away her shoes like he had taught her for months on end, he isn’t angry that she left her sopping wet raincoat on the carpet. He toed off his own shoes, taking off his jacket while he watched her fly into the living room, where you sat on the recliner with his ten month old baby. Your arms cradled your baby Mellie, holding her head up to feed from your breast as you turned your head to see Winnie in her pretty blue dress.

His heart felt warm as he walked into the living room, smiling as Winnie began to speak.

“Mummy.”

Your smile lit up the room, he has always told you that but you never believed him. If he could show you through his eyes how he saw you, you would never doubt him again.

“Yes, my love?”

“Daddy bought me flowers so I can give them to you.” The five year old placed both of her hands on the plastic outside of the bouquet, rain dropped off of the side of it as your eyes widened.

“For me?” You looked up to your husband, whose heart jumped to his throat. “Daddy thought to buy me flowers?” He has bought you flowers almost every two weeks, the bouquet of roses he brought home a couple days ago sat on the kitchen counter in your favorite vase.

“No no!” Winnie giggled, dropping the sopping wet bouquet onto your lap as she cheerfully said, “I wanted to buy you flowers so I can tell you how pretty you are, Mama.”

You looked back at your beautiful five year old daughter, tears instantly falling down your face as you removed an arm from underneath Mellie to reach for Winnie. Mellie made a grunt of disapproval as Winnie laughed, climbing onto the recliner to be held by her mother.

Simon could never lie and say that he could try and put himself in his father’s shoes, not when Simon witnessed moments of true love like this.

He had two days. But with how you were laughing and pressing kisses to both of his daughters, he felt a pang for warmth in his belly. Simon knew you would be alright.

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