#so I made an introduction for them; got them talking to someone who seems to have helped put them around good people

[medicinemane]

I think it's actually fairly simple to explain why no one wants to hear how exercise or sleep or staying hydrated might help with stuff like mental health

...I think that even when people are receptive to that, and it would help, that usually there's some kind of block in the way or they'd already be doing it

Could be they don't know how and need someone to teach them, could be there's some obstacle like transit in the way, or it could just be a mental block... but regardless, they might even like to do the thing but currently for one reason or another they can't

When you get met with "yeah, but just do it"... that's likely to create some hostility and unwillingness to listen

That's my thoughts anyway

[mrpenguinpants]

Marbled Steps

— Marble requires precision, care, and the right tools for the job. Not so different from people. With too much time, stubbornness, and bandages, even the toughest exteriors can be chipped away.

— Lighter

Light spoilers for Lighter's backstory, I made up most of it. [Masterlist]

When I tell you how long I was uninterested in ZZZ until I got two-hit comboed by Lighter and Harumasa? I went a bit too crazy in the backstory but inb4 zzz rips my headcanon's away from me.

Lighter

When Lighter was first introduced to the Sons of Calydon, you knew he was bad news. It was written all over him. He had the dead-eyed stare of someone just coasting through life on autopilot, a man who moved because he had to, not because he wanted to. His knuckles—split, scarred, and raw—looked more like hardened sinew and calluses than anything resembling normal skin. It was the kind of damage that didn’t come from a single fight but months of them like his fists were tools and nothing more. And then there was his attitude—or lack of it. He didn’t talk much, hardly made eye contact, and moved with an almost mechanical precision. You’d met machines with more personality than that.

You were against him joining from the start. You didn’t care how good of a fighter he might have been or how Big Daddy swore he could be useful. There was something off about Lighter, something unsettling that tugged at the back of your mind like a warning you couldn’t quite articulate. But orders were orders, and Big Daddy’s word was gospel. So you swallowed your irritation, slipped on a pair of gloves, grabbed the man’s rough, battered hand, and dragged him toward your makeshift clinic without so much as a look back. The rest of the group had been watching the newcomer with wary curiosity, but you were more practical. There was no way you’d let those mangled hands spread whatever grime or infection he was carrying to the others. Your first moments with Lighter were marked by the stinging smell of disinfectant and cotton swabs as your audience.

After that disaster of an introduction, you rarely saw Lighter unless it was in brief, passing moments. He never lingered, never stayed to chat, joke, or even let himself absorb the group's chaotic energy. To him, everything seemed to boil down to business, payment, and the next job. He was like a ghost in the group’s midst, always there yet never really present. The Sons of Calydon had their share of larger-than-life personalities, the kinds of people who could fill a room just by breathing, but none of it seemed to leave an impression on Lighter. Everything they threw at him whether it was good-natured teasing, warm camaraderie, or even the occasional shouting match, bounced off him like rain drops against a stone wall. Not a crack, not a chip. For a while, you figured he’d just up and leave, disappearing into the wind in search of whatever suicidal purpose had brought him to this part of the Outer Ring in the first place. It seemed like something he’d do. Pack up without a word, leave everything behind like it didn’t matter, and press forward with the same hollow determination he always carried. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you’d miss him all that much. How do you miss someone who never really lets you know them to begin with?

That’s why the scene you stumbled onto one afternoon caught you off guard and shifted your entire worldview. You’d been walking along the outskirts of Blazewood when you saw a group of thugs closing in on someone. At first, it was hard to tell who they had surrounded, the Outer Ring was full of conflict after all, and gang scraps weren’t anything new. But then you recognized the familiar silhouette. Lighter. He stood in the center of the group, shoulders squared and fists clenched at his sides. The thugs spat words about how “sticking your noses into other people's business,” was against the Outer Ring’s unspoken rules, accusations sharp and heavy with menace. You didn’t catch every detail, but the gist was clear enough. The Sons of Calydon had made enemies and, apparently, Lighter had been dealing with them all on his own. That realization hit you harder than you expected. You hadn’t heard so much as a whisper about conflicts between the Sons of Calydon and the other gangs. Had Lighter been dealing with this on his own? Stepping into fights, taking the heat, and keeping the peace in silence while the rest of you remained oblivious? The thought gnawed at you, unsettling in a way that lingered like a bad taste. It was just like him, wasn’t it? To keep the dirty work quiet, never letting anyone see the mess he was cleaning up.

Naturally—because really, what else could you have expected—Lighter had won the fight, even with the odds stacked heavily against him. It was hard not to feel a flicker of awe watching him fight with nothing but his fists. His movements were raw and unrefined, a brute force approach that relied on instinct and sheer willpower more than precision. Still, there was something almost mesmerizing about it, the way he pushed through every hit like it was nothing, determined to end the fight as quickly as possible so he could move on to whatever errand he thought was more important. But as the group's medic, it made you insane. Watching him use adrenaline like some sort of makeshift painkiller, ignoring injuries that any reasonable person would be on the ground crying about, was enough to make your blood boil. Your medic bay was the only place in the Outer Ring anyone could trust to provide reliable treatment, and Lighter’s insistence on throwing himself into fights like he was made of titanium was testing your patience. Seriously, how the hell was he still walking around like everything was fine after taking a beating like that? The man was a walking contradiction—a fighter who refused to stay down, but also too stubborn to take care of himself afterward. Part of you wanted to stomp over there, shake him until some sense rattled loose, and yell at him to actually rest for once in his life. The other part of you wanted to drag him straight to your clinic and lock him there until he got the idea through his thick skull.

Once the fight was over, the thugs sprawled out and groaning, your patience had enough. You marched over to him, your footsteps heavy with purpose, and stopped just short of planting yourself directly in his way. Lighter, of course, didn’t react to your presence. He probably knew you were there anyway because, on top of being the stubborn wall, he just had to be creepy like that. His knuckles were red and raw, and the bruise already blooming under his eye told you he’d taken a hit harder than he could have if he just stepped back instead of going for that last swing. The blank look he shot you, like nothing was out of the ordinary, only fueled the fire bubbling in your chest.

“Come on, you’re done here,” you snapped, grabbing him by the wrist before he could so much as protest. The man might’ve been stronger than you, but you weren’t about to let him wriggle out of this one. Not today. “We’re going to the clinic, and don’t even think about arguing. You can walk on your own or I’ll drag you, your call.”

Predictably, he grumbled under his breath, his resistance half-hearted at best. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged—he wasn’t about to fight you on this, not when he was already spent. Still, he made it clear he wasn’t happy about it, his muttered complaints trailing behind you as you led him toward your makeshift clinic.

“If you don’t let me patch you up, I swear to Big Daddy I’m ratting you out,” you warned, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. “And you know the girls will overreact. I’ll even sit back with some popcorn and watch the fireworks if that’s what you want. So either you cooperate now, or you deal with them later.”

That finally got him to stop grumbling, though he shot you a glare that might’ve been intimidating if you weren’t already used to it. He let out a defeated sigh, dragging his boots as if to make the walk to your clinic as dramatic as possible. A groan escaped him as he muttered, “Whatever you say, firecracker.”

Despite the irritation brewing in your chest at the nickname, you felt a small flicker of satisfaction. At least he was coming with you—albeit reluctantly. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but deep down, you knew this stubborn idiot needed someone to force him to stop. To take a breath. To realize that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry everything on his own. And if that meant tracking him down to drag him into your clinic every time he came back battered and bruised, so be it. You've been meaning to work on your arm strength.

Of course, because Big Daddy had a knack, almost like a seer, for spotting the potential in people, Lighter eventually began to change. Slowly, he warmed up to the group, and something shifted in those dead eyes of his. A bit of light returned, faint at first, like the flicker of a dying match, but steady enough to notice. He loosened up, no longer wound so tight that you half-expected him to snap at any second. The coiled tension that once defined his every move started to unravel, replaced by something...well- alive. No longer waiting for someone to tell him what direction to throw his hands. Pieces of his old personality, buried under what felt like miles of dust, mud, and bad memories, began to surface. Little green buds sprouting where you hadn’t thought life could grow. It wasn’t anything dramatic, nothing you’d see in some triumphant moment in the movies, but it was there. Small things. Like the way he'd actually sit down beside you around the campfire rather than brooding in the shadows or how his shoulders seemed just a bit less rigid when you needed to patch him up for the nth time.

He still wasn’t good with names, though. Not at all. The nickname "Firecracker" had seemed to stick and you had rightfully assumed he didn't actually know your real name. But for everyone else? It was like his brain short-circuited whenever he had to recall someone’s moniker. He’d stumble over syllables, brow furrowed like it was the hardest battle he’d ever fought until he finally landed on something almost right. You remembered the time he’d called Caesar “Seasaw” one too many times. The sight of watching him fumble, all rough edges and misplaced vowels, had been funny in a way you couldn’t quite explain that you couldn't help but laugh. Funny, but also strangely endearing. There was something about seeing this man, this stoic fighter who seemed born to brawl, turning pink at the ears, tripping over words like a schoolboy, that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t completely unreachable.

That didn’t mean he stopped getting into fights. Lighter was still Lighter. He kept his demons close, dragging them with him like shadows wherever he went. His fists still led him places, often leaving him knocking on your door at all hours of the day or night. He’d show up with a split lip, scraped knuckles that looked like they’d been dragged across gravel and that same hollowed stare that never quite went away, no matter how much light he’d let in. You’d huff, muttering something about how you weren’t running a full-time hospital, but he’d just sit there quietly as you patched him up, his silence heavy enough to drown out the room. Even though he had never "lost", he didn't look like a winner. Still...it was an improvement that he was at least coming to you rather than hiding away to lick his wounds by himself.

Once, you’d joked that he must like the color of his blood with how often he bled for no good reason. You’d expected him to brush it off, maybe fire back some sharp quip of his own, but instead, he’d muttered—deadpan—that he’d thrown up a few minutes ago just at the sight of it. That shut you up quick. You’d stopped making jokes about his health after that. It wasn’t as funny when you realized how thin the line was that he walked every day, or how much of himself he’d chipped away just to keep going. Baby steps, you had to remind yourself. You weren’t sure what exactly you were hoping for—some grand breakthrough, maybe—but you knew better than to expect too much too soon. Every failed attempt at getting him to crack a smile felt like a loss, but you’d tell yourself it was progress just to keep from giving up on him entirely. You weren’t going to admit it out loud, but part of you had started to care. A little too much, maybe.

While it was a slow and steady climb, everyone eventually reached the top. Sure, you haven’t seen Lighter let out a full-blown laugh like the rest of the group does, and honestly, you think you’d be terrified if you ever did. The idea of Lighter laughing, really laughing, feels like something unnatural, like it’d crack the very foundation of who he was. But still, progress is progress, and you can confidently say that Lighter has earned his place among the Sons of Calydon. He’s become a part of your little-found family, even if he fits into it like a jagged puzzle piece. He didn't even run away this time when you tried to take a picture to commemorate this grandiose development!

When Billy was let loose to pursue his own journey, it felt like the end of an era. Billy had been the group’s champion, the one everyone looked to when the fights got hard or the nights got dark. With him gone, the question of who would step up next loomed over everyone like a heavy cloud. Although, wasn't the answer obvious? It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself vouching for Lighter. It made sense, didn’t it? He was the best, after all—undefeated in every scrap, a relentless force that never seemed to break no matter what got thrown his way. His fists were as reliable as clockwork, and if anyone could carry the title of champion, it was him. The decision came easy for the group. A few voices of agreement, some claps on the back, and it was done. Lighter himself didn't agree with the results of the poorly run election, a grimace on his face pulling his mouth at odd angles, but alas, once you get the ball rolling there was no stopping. But the moment felt big, even if no one dared to call it that. There’s something about the way a shift like that cements someone’s place in the group, making them more than just a stray taken in. Lighter wasn’t just there anymore; he belonged.

To mark the occasion, Burnice cracked open a can of Nitro Fuel and passed it his way, the group’s rough equivalent of a ceremonial toast. But it was when you stepped forward, holding out something small but significant, that the moment truly landed. A red scarf—fresh, clean, and carefully presented by you, their makeshift doctor. A memento from Billy, just with a few added accessories to fit the newly appointed champion. You weren’t sure if Lighter even understood the weight of the scarf, but he took it without a word. For a heartbeat, you swore you saw something flicker behind his tired eyes—a spark of gratitude and resolve, maybe, or something close to it.

And then it happened. A sound so quiet you almost missed it. A soft laugh, barely more than a breath, escaped Lighter’s lips. It was faint and rough, like a memory of laughter rather than the real thing, but it was there. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you’d expect—nothing loud or joyful—but it was enough to make the moment stick with you. You didn’t comment on it, though. You just smiled and stepped back, letting the rest of the group crowd around him with their half-joking cheers and pats on the back. For all his deadpan looks and quiet stoicism, Lighter was their champion now. And if the soft laugh was any indication, maybe—just maybe—he was starting to believe it too.

Really, that should have been your first warning. A giant, blaring signal complete with flashing red lights and alarm bells. Seeing those lips part in a husky, unguarded laugh that escaped before he could regret it, and watching that light—soft but unmistakable—return to his eyes should’ve told you everything you needed to know: the next few months were going to leave you an absolute mess. How you didn’t notice it sooner is beyond you. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was because you had your hands full, or maybe you were just being an oblivious mule. Either way, it hit you like a freight train one day: Lighter was… really handsome. Incredibly so. Unfairly so. As the medic for the Sons of Calydon, you’ve seen more than your fair share of half-naked men and women—enough that the sight doesn’t even faze you anymore. A bare chest is a bare chest when you’re stitching someone up or doing routine physicals. And for the longest time, that applied to Lighter too. If he stomped into your clinic bloodied and shirtless, you were all business. It was just work. Professional.

But now? Now that Lighter had started to loosen up, to let himself belong among the group, you were seeing him in a very, very different light. From playing along with Caesar's ridiculous scenarios, staying sober so Lucy could finally stop playing caretaker and let herself relax, to turning the radio's volume down when he noticed Piper about to drift off to sleep. Most importantly, there was no damn distraction to save you when he pulled off that worn biker jacket and undershirt during sparring matches with Burnice. It made sense, you told yourself. He didn’t want his clothes to catch fire. Burnice’s sparring matches weren’t exactly gentle, and leather jackets weren’t fireproof. It was practical, completely logical—nothing more! Certainly not a ploy to make you feel like you are on the verge of seeing the gates of heaven far too early. And yet, there you were. Frozen. Staring. Watching droplets of sweat roll down the sharp lines of his abdomen like they were defying gravity just to mess with you. Forcing yourself to look away was suddenly a task requiring herculean strength. And the worst part? Your brain didn’t even give you a fighting chance. It wandered without your permission, a little voice whispering things like “Oh, so that’s what a body sculpted by fistfights and bad decisions looks like...what were we thinking about again?"

You were trying to be professional—really, you were—but it was getting harder every single day. Case in point: Lighter had just dropped onto the bed inside the medic bay after another job, peeling off his jacket with that same maddening, careless motion he always had—like undressing in front of you wasn’t a one-way ticket to your complete and utter ruin. And to make matters worse? He didn’t even have any real injuries! There was one—count it, one—itty bitty little cut on the side of his hip. Barely even noticeable. You were convinced he’d probably done it himself just to have an excuse to bother you. How dare he. You dragged in a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle. Because you need to make it clear, this was life and death for you at this point.

“Really?” you said, deadpan, trying not to look directly at him as he lounged with that infuriatingly calm energy. “You’re out here making a scene over this?”

Lighter tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral but with just enough of a smirk to drive you crazy, “Didn’t say it was bad. Figured you’d wanna check.”

“You mean this tiny paper cut sent you crying here?” You let out an exaggerated sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the tiny cut on his hip as if it were a serious injury—though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to believe that. It was just a scrap. A tiny thing. Yet, there he was, acting like he was on the brink of death. You fumbled with the bandages, your hands betraying you as they shook more than they should have. You stared at the spot, trying to ignore how absurd this whole situation was, but still feeling the pressure of his steady gaze. Your fingers weren’t cooperating, fumbling as you tore off a thin piece of tape. This was supposed to be simple, yet here you were, making a bigger deal of it than it really was.

“Still standing, aren’t I?” Lighter cracked one eye open to glance at you, and for a second—just a second—you thought you saw the faintest glimmer of amusement. This cheeky brat.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, finally pulling out the smallest bandage you could find. You crouched beside him, determined to slap it on and get him out of there as quickly as possible. But of course, when you leaned closer to inspect the so-called injury, you realized your mistake. Lighter hadn’t moved an inch, his posture relaxed, like this was just another ordinary moment for him. That lazy confidence of his made everything worse, making it harder to ignore the sharp, defined lines of his stomach, the way his skin felt warm even through the faintest brush of your fingertips. Your breath caught for a split second, but you forced yourself to focus. You swallowed hard, trying not to dwell on the way your pulse was racing, and pressed the bandage over the "wound", not letting your fingertips linger on the soft skin, “There. All better. You’ll live to fight another day, champ.”

You stood up quickly, your movements stiff as you gathered the scattered supplies, and turned your back to him, half out of instinct, half out of necessity. You couldn’t risk him seeing the way your cheeks had flushed, the heat creeping up your neck and settling on your face like an unwanted mark. The last thing you needed was for him to catch on to how much he’d affected you. No, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing. It would be far too embarrassing, and you definitely weren’t ready to face that kind of vulnerability, not with him, not yet.

Lighter let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and maddeningly soft. You hated how it seemed to echo in your chest, stirring something you couldn’t quite name. It'll be imprinting into the folds of your brain labeled specifically for his laughs because you were a psycho who did things like that, “Told you it wasn’t bad.”

“Next time you come in here for no reason, I’m charging you a medic’s fee. Double if you don’t bleed. Someone’s got to keep you in line,” you shot back, but your voice came out softer than you’d intended, almost warm. You couldn’t help it. The way the sunlight caught him just right, casting gentle shadows across the sharp planes of his face, made everything feel… quieter. For a beat, the air hung heavy between you, thick with something unspoken. His gaze locked onto yours, steady and unreadable, and you felt a strange, unexpected pull.

“Yeah, but if I fall, I know you’ll catch me and pull me back," Lighter’s voice was casual, but it was heavy. Af if he was stating a fact or a universal truth. He tilted his head back against the wall, the gesture almost too relaxed for these words, as if time itself had slowed down just for him. His hand brushed over the bandages you’d carefully placed, the motion languid and unhurried like he wasn’t just tending to a simple injury but savoring the quiet, the stillness between you. Each pass of his fingers over the bandages was deliberate, a slow rhythm that seemed to draw out the moment, making it stretch and linger like he wasn’t in any hurry to go anywhere. What the hell? What are you even supposed to say to that? This is so unfair, super unfair.

“Anyway, you’re good to go,” you said quickly, your voice a little more strained than you intended as you tossed the used wipes into the trash, taking a small step back. You found yourself brushing your hand over your ear, almost absentmindedly, as if trying to shake off the lingering warmth of the moment, or maybe just to steady yourself. You couldn’t quite tell. You checked for any heat under your touch, feeling a bit self-conscious, but the action didn’t feel quite as innocent as it should have. “Try not to get into another fight before dinner, would you?”

You can hear Lighter stand, stretching with a deep, satisfied groan that you definitely didn’t file away in your mental catalog for later, “No promises firecracker. Some fights come lookin’ for me. I'll save you a plate, but don't take too long or I'll eat it instead.”

You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips as you waved him away. Damn him. The way he carried himself, so effortlessly fitted into his bones, made your heart do that annoying little flip that you couldn’t quite control. The smile lingered longer than you wanted it to, and you hated how much he could still get under your skin. Baby steps, you'd tell yourself, but still progress.

It wasn’t as if you’d ever expected anything to happen between you and Lighter. Sure, Caesar liked to go on about destiny and how her romance novels always had similar plots, but that didn’t mean anything. You were fine with things the way they were—really, you were. Your feelings weren’t so ridiculous or territorial that you’d go snapping the heads off anyone who talked to him. In fact, you were glad that everyone thought of him fondly. He deserved that. He had a way of drawing people in, making them feel seen, and honestly, it was nice to know you weren’t the only one who appreciated that about him. Still, you just wished everyone would stop trying to play matchmaker. That, quite literally, would be the worst thing ever. Not because the idea of Lighter seeing you as something more wasn’t appealing—it was, and you’d be lying if you said otherwise—but because the Sons of Calydon collectively shared one working brain cell at best. The very thought of them trying to orchestrate a confession or some contrived romantic scenario was mortifying. Caesar, of course, was the ringleader of it all, constantly preaching her philosophy of bold, loud declarations of love, chest puffed up and voice ringing for all the world to hear.

And every time, you’d look her dead in the eye and remind her of the months she spent silently pining over her first love, fantasizing about confessions she never made until it was too late and they’d moved away. That love story had ended not with a bold declaration, but with an awkward goodbye and the realization that she never even liked them in the first place. Besides, the thought of your feelings being laid bare for everyone to see? If that ever happened, you’d find the nearest oil pit and swan dive into it without a second thought. The embarrassment alone would be enough to finish you off. No, it was better to keep things as they were, safe and uncomplicated, even if it meant ignoring the nagging thought of what could be. Some things, after all, were better left unsaid.

Burnice was only marginally better than Caesar. Sure, she wasn’t quite as loud about her “proclaim your burning love and passion” philosophy, but she had her own infuriating quirks—chief among them being her obsession with matchmaking. Maybe all that Nitro Fuel was starting to mess with her brain. She had an uncanny knack for spotting opportunities to stir the pot, and whenever the moment arose, she’d make a scene. Without fail, she’d find some contrived excuse to pull Lighter into your orbit, nudging the two of you together as if proximity alone would somehow spark a whirlwind romance. Never mind the fact that you already knew Lighter well enough—too well, really. You’d seen the man at his lowest, whining like a baby about heatstroke after stubbornly choosing to wear that ridiculous heavy leather jacket in the middle of a blazing afternoon. And yet, Burnice acted like you were strangers in need of a push, her attempts so blatantly obvious that you couldn’t look her in the eye for a week afterward. Those eyes of hers practically sparkled with mischief, and the memory of her smug expression alone was enough to make your skin crawl.

But what made it worse—so much worse—was that Lighter wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t oblivious to the madness unfolding around him, just tripping on the reason why it was happening. Perhaps it was an inside joke at your expense? You’d never forget the moment when he tilted his head, looking at you with that furious concern, about if someone broke your heart and if he needed to knock their lights out. It had been said with such casual sincerity that it had left you utterly speechless, your brain scrambling to decide whether to laugh, cry, or crawl into the nearest hole and never emerge.

Piper and Lucy, thankfully, had a more hands-off approach to the whole situation, though that didn’t mean they left you entirely unbothered. They understood, perhaps better than anyone else, how precarious the balance was. How one wrong step could send everything crashing down. Still, their restraint was only relative. Piper couldn’t resist her playful jabs, her slow teasing remarks always accompanied by that sly, knowing smile. And Lucy, ever the practical one, delivered her opinions with the sharp precision of a scalpel, cutting through your defenses whether you wanted her to or not. You half expected her to whip out a whiteboard filled with colorful markers. They had their arguments ready, like they’d been keeping a running list of evidence to throw at you. Piper, with her casual observations about how Lighter’s gaze lingered a little too long when you weren’t looking, and Lucy, with her unshakable conviction that you were too blind to see what was right in front of you. They’d remind you of the small, unmistakable gestures like the way Lighter’s posture changed when you entered the room, how his relaxed indifference seemed to shift into something sharper, more focused. They noticed how he always managed to save his best, most effortless smiles for you, how he’d offer help to you before anyone else without a second thought. Even your name, spoken in passing, seemed to make him perk up like he couldn’t help but respond to anything that revolved around you. Piper loved to point that out, making it seem like some grand cosmic joke you were too stubborn to get, while Lucy preferred to frame it as a ticking clock. To her, it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed him and decided to take their chances.

A gang of Thirens had made a pit stop in Blazewood, their arrival unexpected but surprisingly uneventful. They’d come seeking nothing more than a place to rest, not to stir up trouble, a rarity in and of itself. Kasa, seeing no problem in lending a hand, had granted them permission to stay, with the firm condition that they kept the peace. To everyone’s astonishment, they honored her terms without so much as a hint of hostility. It wasn’t often rival gangs showed even a sliver of willingness to cooperate, let alone behave like decent human beings. Rarer still were those who managed to charm the locals, but these Thirens were doing just that. Their easy smiles and polite demeanor had disarmed the townsfolk, who quickly warmed up to them. Laughter could already be heard echoing through the streets, strangers turned companions over shared drinks and stories.

But while everyone else seemed content to embrace the unexpected camaraderie, you were about two seconds away from dunking your head into the nearest barrel of cold water. It wasn’t the Thirens’ presence itself that rattled you, nor their good behavior, but something else entirely—an unspoken frustration simmering just beneath your skin. Your nerves felt frayed, stretched taut, and every moment of forced composure only added fuel to the fire threatening to ignite inside you.

You clenched your fists, trying to steady yourself, but the thought lingered: if you didn’t find a way to cool down, you might just explode like one of Burnice’s flamethrowers, leaving nothing but chaos in your wake.

"Wow, what's your workout routine? Your biceps are so defined."

Never mind cooling off, you were going to rip that lynx Thiren’s tail clean off and kick her straight to the curb before you even thought about dunking your head in cold water. The entire time she’d been in Blazewood, she’d grown bolder and bolder with Lighter, testing the limits of your patience with every sly remark and flirtatious gesture. At first, it was casual. A few light touches here and there, a fleeting brush of her hand as she laughed just a little too hard at one of his blunt jokes. You’d told yourself to let it go. She was a guest, after all, and the last thing anyone needed was unnecessary drama. But then she escalated. Full-blown wrapping her tail around his arm under the pretense of "measuring" the circumference of his triceps-to-biceps ratio? That was the last straw. If she was so curious, she could bring all her questions to you. You’d be happy to explain. Preferably while she was running as fast as her legs could carry her out of town.

Before Lighter can even begin to gently but firmly remove the tail from his bicep, another hand comes down with the speed of a strike, swatting the offending limb away with a swift motion—like a cat swatting at an annoying fly. And a cat would be the perfect comparison for how you look at that moment. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed, claws metaphorically out and ears flat against your head in pure, unfiltered territorial instinct. Your hand immediately shoots up to wrap around Lighter’s other arm, the one that hadn’t been tainted by the lynx’s touch, and you pull it to your chest, holding it possessively. There’s no mistaking the intent in the way you hold onto him, the clear message that this one’s taken so back off.

You and the lynx share a pointed, searing glare. Neither of you bothers to mask the silent standoff, both of you sizing the other up in the most primal way possible. There’s no subtlety in this, it truly is an animal kingdom.

"Sorry, miss, but I need to borrow my gang member for some private business. I'm sure you understand," you say, your smile wide and innocent, though the murder in your eyes is as sharp as a blade. You glance up at Lighter with a pointed, almost desperate look, silently urging him to come with you now. Whatever expression you're wearing—serious, frustrated, or somewhere in between—it’s enough for Lighter to nod and start to move. But just as he takes a step, that damn tail wraps around his arm again, yanking him back like some sort of trap. The lynx’s sly, satisfied grin tells you everything you need to know. She wasn’t done playing yet. You grit your teeth. The only thing left to do is bargain with Burnice and make sure that tail goes up in flames. "Accidentally," of course.

"I'm sure your other members can be asked. You're all capable, aren't you?" The lynx sneers, her ear twitching in agitation as her claws come out in warning. You raise your chin, turning your nose up at her in response. You’d like to see her try. If she thought she could take a swing at you without consequence, she was sorely mistaken. The tension thickens, and it’s all too easy to imagine how this might escalate. You can feel your hands already twitching to grab for her, ready to turn this into a full-blown catfight. But before anything hits the boiling point, Lighter tenses beside you. With a quiet, fluid motion, he frees his arm from both your combined grips, gently but firmly pulling away. It’s a perfect, almost effortless escape, and in that moment, he stands between the two of you like the undefeated champion he truly is. Even between two people crying for his attention, he manages to slip by with ease, a subtle reminder that he’s always in control of the situation.

"Sorry, doc's orders," Lighter says smoothly, his voice laced with a calm finality that brooks no argument, "If you need anything, ask any of the Sons of Calydon. Like you said, we're all capable. And if you’re looking to step up your workout, speak to the boss."

Then, as if to punctuate the moment, he places his hand at the small of your back, his fingers blistering hot against your skin. With a slight push, he leads you away, his steps measured and steady, pulling you effortlessly from the chaos. You resist the urge to glance over your shoulder, but a small, spiteful part of you can’t help but wonder what expression the lynx is wearing. Shock? Disbelief? Maybe even a twinge of jealousy? The thought of her standing there, seething with frustration, gives you a twisted sense of satisfaction. You imagine her, the confident, bold creature who thought she had a chance, now left standing in your wake. But, frankly, you’re too absorbed in the rush you’re feeling—surging through your veins like wildfire. The excitement of the moment, and the subtle victory. It’s intoxicating. You feel like you’re walking on air, every step of Lighter’s guiding hand filling you with a heady sense of power. Maybe seeing the gates of heaven early isn’t so bad after all. The thought flickers in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The world is yours now, and nothing, not even a scorned lynx, can take it from you.

"So, you wanna fill me in on what that was firecracker?"

And just like that, you’re plummeting back to earth, gravity pulling you in hard. What was that? Did you black out for a second? Did some other version of you just take over and make a damn fool out of yourself? When did you get so bold, so… possessive? Your heart pounds in your chest as you replay every move, every look, every gesture, and it makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Mass hysteria, that’s it. That’s the best explanation. Maybe you’re just dreaming, wrapped up in some fevered nightmare. Any second now, you’ll wake up, face buried in a pillow, your heart still racing from the humiliation, and you’ll scream bloody murder into it, swearing never to think about today again. Or… maybe, if you're really unlucky, you’ll throw yourself into the nearest oil pit just to escape this entire disaster. Either way, neither outcome seems particularly comforting, and you’re starting to think maybe both sound equally tempting right now.

"Heat stroke-induced hallucinations. I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," you blurt, the words coming out quicker than your brain can catch up. You force yourself to sound blasé, like you don’t care like it wasn’t a big deal. But deep down, you know it’s a pathetic attempt at saving face. The lie slips off your tongue like water, but it’s as fragile as glass. Lighter’s response is immediate, a bark of laughter that fills the air around you, genuine and light, the kind that could make anyone laugh along, but at this moment, it only makes the pit in your stomach deepens. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He knows you—and here you are, pretending to be clueless.

The silence hangs between you both, a strange mix of relief and tension, and you can’t decide whether it’s a kindness from Lighter—letting you escape the awkwardness—or if he’s just as unsure of what to say next as you are. Either way, it's slowly driving you mad. You can feel your thoughts swirling, like a tornado of "What do I do now?" and "Did I just make a huge mistake?". Hell, you even jumped up from your seat and hissed like some wild animal. You glance at Lighter, his easy stride never faltering, the faintest hint of some satisfied smile still lingering on his lips. It's the perfect opportunity, he doesn't even look freaked out which means even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, he won't run for the hills. Lighter had followed you. He’d walked right alongside you, and then—he put his hand on your back. It’s still there. You can feel the warmth of it, his fingers almost too casual as they rest on you, a small gesture that has your insides doing flips.

Should you just go for it?

The thought of him being swarmed by others, other people constantly hanging around, making it harder to even get a moment alone with him, suddenly makes everything feel urgent. And the weirdest part? You can’t help but wonder if, for once, it’s your chance to actually get ahead of the chaos. But then there’s the other side of your brain, the one telling you to be careful. The one that reminds you that if this goes wrong, you’ll have to live with the consequences of letting things spiral out of control. It's all too much, too fast, but here you are, standing in the middle of the storm, unsure of whether you’re about to leap into it or run the other way.

Ah, screw it. Big Daddy didn't raise a quitter.

"Lighter, I—" You stumble over your words, your thoughts scrambling as you take a shaky breath, trying to summon the courage to say whatever it is that’s been building up inside you. For a moment, the familiar walls you’ve carefully constructed around yourself seem to crumble, and you feel the weight of it all. The hesitation, the fear, and your own uncertainty. You turn to look up at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s already watching you, eyes soft and steady, not teasing or playful as usual. This time, there’s something different, something deeper. Softer, quieter, more malleable. It’s as if he’s been waiting for you for a long time now. Is this what Lucy was referring to when your back was turned?

"Yeah?" he prompts gently, his voice low and coaxing, as if he knows you need a little push but won’t rush you. His eyes remain fixed on yours, unblinking and patient, making the air feel thick with anticipation. You hesitate, but only for a moment. The weight of his gaze doesn’t feel as heavy as it once did. Instead, it makes your heart race in a way that feels... almost comforting. You can feel the nerves slipping away, the words starting to form at the edge of your tongue.

"I—uh..." You pause, taking a steadying breath, and this time the words come easier, "I just wanted to say that... I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but I really appreciate you. More than you probably know. I know I don’t always show it, but...I-"

You glance up at him again, afraid of what you might see. Would he laugh it off? Or, worse, would he back away? Instead, you find his expression unreadable, but not unkind. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place—a flicker of surprise, maybe, or understanding—but you don’t regret it. Not now. Not when you’ve finally let it out.

"I just wanted to say that I li-"

"Yo! There you both are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

You jump away from Lighter as though he’d just set you on fire, a startled screech bubbling up in your throat before you force it down, stamping it out with all the dignity you can muster. Your heart pounds, and for a split second, you feel the world tilt on its axis. You whip your head around to find Caesar jogging toward you, waving her hand in the air like it’s just another day, completely unaware of the moment she’s just walked in on. Oh, sweet, oblivious Caesar...

"The Thirens challenged us to a friendly match! We can’t exactly go in without our Champion! You free to scuffle, Lighter? Oh, and if anything bad happens, I’m counting on you, Doc!" She beams at you both, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her, and just like that, you feel a little bit of the tension slip away. It’s impossible to stay mad at her when she’s looking at you like that. So full of excitement and energy, completely unaware of the chaos she just walked in on. Lighter, for his part, looks like a newborn fawn. His usual confident swagger seems to falter for a moment as he scratches the back of his neck, a slight blush creeping up his neck that he clearly tries to hide behind a forced grin. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly caught off guard by the sudden interruption.

"Uh, yeah, I’m in for a friendly match," he says, but his voice is a little too hesitant, a little too unsure. He glances at you like he's not entirely sure what to do next. “But, uh... firecracker, you're still good to patch me up afterward, right? Just in case things... get out of hand?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, and for a second, you almost want to laugh at how unlike him he seems right now. You can’t help but feel a bubble of laughter rise out of you as the sheer absurdity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. The way Lighter is standing there, all awkward and fidgety, avoiding eye contact and tripping over words. You feel ridiculous, and you can’t tell if you're cringing more at how completely out of character this is or at how you’re both so blatantly fumbling through it.

You’re definitely not the smooth, cool-headed person you thought you were.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be there," you say, stumbling over your words like a clumsy fool. "Making sure you don't... uh, turn into a human pincushion, or whatever."

You wince the second the words leave your mouth. Human pincushion? Seriously? You could've come up with something better, but no, this is what happens when your brain turns to mush. You quickly look away, almost as if you're trying to disappear, but your cheeks are already burning, and there's no escaping it now. Lighter, looking just as silly, rubs the back of his neck in a way that makes him seem a little too much like a lost puppy. He’s not even trying to be smooth. He manages a half-smile, but it’s so awkward that it’s almost endearing.

“Right. Yeah, no one wants that. I’ll... leave the stabbing to the Thirens, I guess,” he says with a half-nod as if that makes any sense at all. It’s like the two of you are desperately trying to play it cool, but you’re both failing spectacularly. But then, like a breath of fresh air, Caesar’s cheery voice cuts through the ridiculousness. She grins, completely unaware of the awkward dance you two just performed.

"Great! Let’s go! We’re gonna show the Thirens who’s boss!"

And just like that, you both get swept up in her energy, still feeling a little bashful but grateful for the distraction. You chance a look at Lighter to see that he is doing the same, instantly averting both your eyes to the very interesting ground. Still, the top of the mountain is within sight.

Baby steps.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Joint Mission Author's Notes: This was supposed to be short but I had an epiphany after I finished Warnings: MDNI, Angst

This was a standard joint mission. Two teams, one task, in and out, and it's done. So why did John Price feel so nervous?

The mission seemed pretty straightforward and the new guys seemed formidable. Not at the same caliber as the 141, but they're getting there.

Really, everything looks fine, so why is he nervous?

But it didn't matter as he pushes his concern to the side as he greets the team of three on the tarmac. After some quick introductions, he guides the trio to the conference room where the rest of his team waits.

As they got closer, John felt his heart beating faster and faster. What was going on with him?

And he wasn't the only one as Johnny also had a bad feeling about this mission. However, unlike his captain, he actually voiced his concerns out loud.

"And why were we paired up with these guys again?" the Scotsman asks for the 5th time today. Ghost glares at him while Kyle groans. Gaz shoots you a quick glance to see if that had caught your attention. It didn't.

"I mean, why couldn't we get Farah and Alex to help us on this or even Los Vaqueros?" Soap adds.

"Laswell's orders," Kyle grunts out.

Honestly, the fellow Sergeant wasn't sure what the concern was. He could tell Price was also feeling something, but what? Laswell has never led them astray so this should turn out fine, right? The last time Laswell sent someone, things started out perfectly. As long as the 141 can act right, then things should go swimmingly.

Well, after first introductions, Kyle realizes that they're not the ones that need to act right. It's the new guys. Gaz caught the extra attention you got from the three.

"Sergeant Keegan P. Russ, at your service."

"Sergeant Kim Hong-jin, but you can call me Horangi."

"Lieutenant Nikto."

That last one would not have been so bad if you weren't the only one who got a handshake from the Russian.

Kyle knew he wasn't the only one to notice as he caught Ghost clenching his fist.

And Ghost was not going to let you go without a fight.

"Isn't there supposed to be four of you? Where's your captain?" he asks. Ghost stands tall and stares them down.

The three don't react as they take a seat at the table. It isn't until the three have settled in their seats that one of them speaks up.

"Our Captain already talked to yours so don't worry about it," Keegan replies. He stares back at Ghost, clearly not intimidated by the British Lieutenant.

"Great, so we're stuck with a Yankee, a gambling addict, and a commie," Ghost groans out.

"That's enough," you bark out. You shoot an incredulous look at the Lieutenant who immediately buckles down. You order everyone to take a seat so you can start your presentation. "The faster we get this done, the faster I can get back to work and you guys can continue whatever this is," you chastise.

The new team immediately voices their agreement which made Ghost's blood boil.

As you go over the details of the mission, Price looks around the room and catches the way the three new soldiers stared at you. Something in their eyes didn't sit right with him. It looked way too familiar, it almost reminded him of his bo... oh hell no.

He calls out your name and says, "you know what, I can take it from here." He pushes his chair out and places his hands on his knees, getting ready to stand up. However, before he can even get up, you immediately speak up.

"What do you think you're doing?" You ask. You're clearly not impressed.

Price feels the energy in the room shift. He looks at you sheepishly and repeats himself. "I can finish it from here."

You scoff. "Captain Price," you slowly say, "what's my position here?"

"The 141's Intelligence Operative."

"Close, the 141's temporary Intelligence Operative," you correct him. John feels his heart clench. You fail to notice his heartbreak and continue, "and what's my role as the Intelligence Operative?"

"Deal with anything and everything that has to do with intelligence. I think I got it, I'm--"

"No, no, no. I'm not done," you bite back. You're obviously annoyed. It seemed like you were annoyed most days here. "And this presentation, what is it about?"

"Intelligence surrounding our newest mission," John grumbles out.

"Okay, okay. So, if this presentation has to do with intelligence, who should do it?" You stare at him, eyes wide, waiting for an answer.

Horangi raises his hand which catches you off guard. "Yes, Sergeant Kim." Now you're sheepish, embarrassed that the new guys had to see you like this.

"Please, call me Horangi," he assures you. Much to John's dismay, that seemed to ease your concerns. "If I may, I think the answer that you're looking for and your captain forgot is that you should be doing this presentation, and I completely agree." Despite your straight face, your eyes glowed with content. You thanked Sergeant Kim and turned your attention back to Price.

"Is that okay with you Captain? May I continue?"

John just nods, feeling absolutely embarrassed and ashamed with himself. What the fuck was he thinking?

As you continue with your presentation, the 141 oscillate their attention from you to the new guys. Ghost catches the gentle look in Nikto's eyes. Johnny recognizes the look of admiration on the Keegan's face and Kyle notices the excitement in Horangi's eyes. And Price finally understands the root of his worries as he realizes that this new task force is looking at you the exact same way that you used to look at them.

It seemed like the one thing that the boys were avoiding could very much happen now and it would all be their fault.

Word Count: 980

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[lacydollette]

⋆˙⟡ BLESSING IN DISGUISE ⋆˙⟡

CHAPTER TWO

PAIRING lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

SUMMARY after reconnecting with your childhood best friend sarah, she introduces you to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes your interest more than he should’ve

WARNING(S) slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit. "Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got. You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious. Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom. As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho. Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot. And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber." Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you." Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out. But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?" Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?" JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out." Kiara groaned, “Oh, come on.” though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ. "Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound. JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now. Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it." He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing. JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?" As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little. Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport. Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?" You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?" You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home. While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question." You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know." Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here." You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

LINKS .ᐟ series masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1247 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Oh,” James pauses, his thumb hovering over his screen as he glances at the phone, his expression shifting to one of mild frustration. “It’s work,” he mutters under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly. “I need to take this.”

“That’s alright,” you smile gently. “I’ll take Henry in, and you can meet us in there when you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” James asks, his gaze flicking between you and Henry, who is gripping both straps of his backpack, his glasses slightly askew as he squints curiously at the classroom ahead.

“Yes,” you encourage, taking a sip of the coffee James made for you this morning savoring the warmth. “If you’re quick enough, I don’t think he’ll even notice.” You nod towards Henry, who is intently watching the family ahead of you greet his teacher, his curiosity piqued.

James presses a quick, hurried kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the line and heading off to take the call. Henry’s teacher greets him with warmth, complimenting his glasses and excitedly telling him about the art projects planned for the day. The exchange is brief but effective, and you can see Henry’s nerves begin to ease. He’s been uncertain about school all morning, but you and James have done your best to ease his worries, sharing stories of your own favorite memories from school to get him excited.

You barely finish telling Henry that you’ll meet the other parents before he’s darting forward, his little legs carrying him with surprising speed toward the corner of the room where the toys are. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you watch him seamlessly slip into a group of kids, his small hands eagerly grabbing a toy train. All his earlier fears seem to vanish in an instant, replaced by the gleam of excitement in his eyes. 

At the back of the classroom, a table is set up with an assortment of pastries, a small sign propped up beside them: We know this may be a tough transition, so enjoy a lemon croissant to brighten your day! You smile softly at the gesture, reaching for one of the croissants just as someone else does, your fingers brushing against each other.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, glancing up at a man who looks equally as surprised as you. The pastry is now long forgotten.

“No, no, I’m the one who should be sorry,” the man rushes to say, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as he offers you a sheepish smile. “I got a bit too excited to finally grab some breakfast and didn’t even notice you there.”

“I get it,” You laugh, holding up your coffee cup. “This is all I had time for this morning.”

“The struggles of being a parent,” he jokes, offering you his hand with a wry smile. “Aaron. My kid’s the one who looks like she’s two seconds away from crying. It’s clearly a big day for her.”

You offer your name, smiling sympathetically at the sight of his daughter, who is taking in the classroom with big, wide eyes. “Mine’s the one with glasses, who is very impatiently waiting for a turn at the train table.”

You spend the next few minutes chatting with Aaron, commiserating over the bittersweet challenge of watching your child start school. You both agree that the teacher seems wonderful—kind, approachable, and genuinely invested in the kids. 

“Daddy,” A sweet, soft voice says. “Nobody wants to be my friend.” You watch with a squeeze in your heart how nervous the little girl, Ella, you learned, looks. Aaron sighs, leaning down to talk to his daughter, and your eyes shift to Henry, who is chatting to anyone willing to listen.

You call his name, and when he glances up, you gesture for him to come over.

“Yeah, mumma?” Henry comes to meet you where you’re bent down, slotting himself into your side as he watches Ella sniffle into her dad’s shoulder.

It doesn’t take long after the introductions for Ella’s tears to dry, replaced by infectious giggles as she and Henry build towering block structures, only to gleefully knock them down again.

“Thank you,” Aaron murmurs, his gaze fixed on Ella, sitting on the floor in front of you both with Henry, before he glances at you. “I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to leave for work knowing she was so upset.”

“It was no problem,” you shrug, your voice soft. “I know today’s been tough.”

You’re so absorbed in watching Henry and Ella that you don’t notice Aaron’s gaze lingering on you, appreciatively taking you in, or how his eyes flick to your left hand, searching for any sign of a ring. But James notices. He’s just barely made it in the door after his call, and the moment his eyes land on you and Aaron, a flicker of something dark passes over his face. His jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as he stands in the doorway, feeling the jealousy pool in his stomach.

Aaron leans in, his proximity crossing into uncomfortable territory—you don’t seem to notice, though—as he points to something across the classroom. James, already tense, steps forward, irritation clear in his movements—he’s had enough of watching someone else make an attempt to flirt with you, and it’s barely been thirty seconds.

“I’m sorry, darling. The call took longer than I expected.” He murmurs, his arm slipping around your waist. The warmth in his voice makes your face brighten, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“That’s alright.” You murmur, that lovestruck look settling on your face as you gaze at him. For a brief moment, you forget that you were in the middle of a conversation, so distracted by the feeling of James’ touch.

“Oh! This is Aaron—his daughter Ella is playing with Henry.” You gesture toward Ella before flashing Aaron a smile. “And this is James—”

“—Her husband.” James interjects, his tone sharp as he extends his hand. Your jaw drops in surprise as you turn to him, shock written across your face.

Aaron hesitates for a moment, then takes James’ hand, his expression unreadable. “Nice to meet you, mate,” he says, his voice steady, though there’s an uncomfortable edge to it.

A few minutes of brief conversation pass, and it’s clear Aaron isn’t nearly as warm with James present as he was when it was just you. Sensing the tension, you feel a wave of relief when the teacher announces it’s time for parents to say their goodbyes and head out. You and James shower Henry with kisses and smother him in hugs, reluctant to let him go, before finally saying your goodbyes.

James hopes you’ve forgotten his jealous remark, but as soon as you get in the car, you turn to him, shaking your head with an amused smile.

“My husband? How will you explain that when he finds out you lied?” You snort, glancing expectantly at James.

“Listen, love,” he starts, his tone defensive, “you should’ve seen the way he was looking at you. He checked if you were wearing a ring!”

“I don’t care,” you reply, buckling yourself in with a soft, sincere smile. “The only man I care about is you.” You hum playfully, adding, “Even if he did kind of look like you.”

James scoffs, his eyes flicking to you. “He absolutely did not,” he mutters, his tone defensive. “I’m way better looking.”When you don’t respond, he glances at you again, a hint of panic creeping in. “Right?”

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[temis-de-leon]

When they don't know you as well as they thought they did

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

C/W: the boys are crushing on MC and it's implied MC is crushing as well, but there isn't any established relationship. Just friends feeling things for their friend, very common. Self-insert, perhaps?

A/N: this is just fluff, very silly, a little ooc maybe, but I'm not sure. I just wanted to make something fun and lighthearted after the recent news.

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No one is surprised anymore at the firmness the brothers speak with when they call you part of the family. Between the pacts and the unsolicited free therapy, it’s only fair, and only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the affection running through the House of Lamentation.

Still, there are instances every once in a while where, although it’s difficult at the beginning, the boys have no other choice but to accept the fact that you have a completely different life back in the human world and they may not know you as good as they would like.

It starts with the small things; embarrassing conversations where their ignorance gets you to laugh like a maniac more than a couple of times. There they are, blushing in self-consciousness while you cackle uncontrollably because they believed some urban legend about a faceless suited man with freakishly long arms.

Then, slowly, but surely, it turns into more personal things about you, like your irrational, downright, phobia of lizards or the fictional characters you’re surprisingly attracted to.

(Some of those aren’t human, which makes them all feel a strong sense of hope, but you don’t need to know that).

The brothers learn about your studies, favourite subjects and what you’d like to do with your future, even if it sounds hopeless or unlikely. They also keep every bit of information about your friends and family; little comments that you let go here and there and help them understand why you are someone they love so much.

The whole situation evolves in such a way that inviting them to your birthday party in the human realm seems to be the obvious next step.

‘It’s so I can celebrate it with all my loved ones’ you say, and they really can’t deny your offer after that.

So, after a few awkward introductions and half-truths about their origin, everyone is happily talking to each other and eagerly waiting for their turn to be with you.

.

Lucifer, who has had a special interest in your family for a while, finds himself chuckling in understanding when your mother complains about the occasional mess in your room. In your defence, he feels obligated to partially throw his brothers under the bus and blame them for keeping you in a constant state of disarray, but then she says something that… perplexes him.

You don’t like perfection? His eyes open wide at the revelation and your mother chuckles, misinterpreting his expression. She doesn’t know who he really is or what he represents, after all.

Just how vast is the veracity of that statement? Does it refer only to a state of mind or do you apply it to everything else?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to feel too anxious before he remembers the little details. When your triumphal smile shone in the dimness of his room that time he made a silly mistake in chess, ultimately granting you the win; or when the Anti-Lucifer League managed to leave his hair unkempt for an entire day, which got you to shamelessly look at him for longer than any of his younger brothers would’ve ever liked.

Not being perfect isn’t something he would ever do consciously and he had always found solace in the fact that you like him despite his mistakes. However, knowing you actually like him because of those mistakes? Perhaps letting those cracks show in his façade isn’t so bad as long as it is for you.

.

Not far from him, Mammon chats with your human best friend. There’s an air of competitiveness between them, both wanting to be the ultimate best friend, but it all stays light-hearted. There’s no real threat when Mammon gets to be your first demon, you know? It’s a unique position!

But he still makes sure to assert dominance by stating he would’ve made the perfect party for you, better than the one you’re currently enjoying; with food and decorations from the Devildom and the Celestial realm included, matching outfits and, of course, keeping everything hidden so you can have the best surprise of your life. He had thrown a lot of those with Asmo’s help back home, so he knows you love them!

Or he thinks you do, at least.

Your friend sniggers harmlessly when they hear that last part, pointing at him with an infuriating smartass attitude, and immediately shatters Mammon’s reality.

What the heck do they mean, you don’t like surprise parties? He’d done a lot of those back at the Devildom and you’d never complained, appreciative as you are, even helping him do the same for other’s birthday parties!

Sure, you had always looked dumbfounded by the loud cheering and the confetti after stepping through the door, but that was part of the fun… right? You would tell him if you wanted him to stop, wouldn’t you?

He feels a pang in his heart when the idea of you being uncomfortable for his sake appears in his mind, but it doesn’t make sense. While you undeniably treat him better than anyone else in all of the realms, you still correct him when you see fit and him making you unhappy on your own birthday would be one of those occasions.

He trusts you to confide in him when things are wrong just as much as you trust him to do his best. That’s what friends are for, after all.

.

And where else would Levi be if not hidden in a corner playing with his DDD?

He had tried mingling with people at the party, or at least tried hanging around them, he swears, but conversations became repetitive and boring and then he received a notification for a daily reward from one of his apps, so, of course, he had to sit down to collect it. Then minutes passed as he completed minigames to power up his cards and… you get the idea.

So when a friend of yours walked towards him, complimenting the pins and badges on his bag and the faint music coming out of his headphones, sure, the evening started going way smoother.

He talks enthusiastically, just like any other time his interests are mentioned, wildly gesturing with his hands and letting the little bubble around them be full of their eager exchange. However, a casual lament from his companion stops him right in his tracks.

It’s a shame you don’t like anime…? His first reaction is to laugh, enumerating everything you’d watched, and later commented on, with him under a blanket in the tranquillity of his room, but the utter surprise in your friend’s face leaves him speechless.

You really don’t like it? But… But he’s made you see so many things! Did you like any of them? Did you lie to his face when you said you enjoyed them? He would’ve never chosen a best friend like that; you were not like that and he refused to believe the contrary.

Also, would a liar buy merch on their own like you did? Would they watch the best episodes again or listen to the soundtrack on repeat when they had a bad day? This new revelation only makes him aware he was the one to change your perspective of the fine arts and he’s damn proud of that.

You are still getting an earful when you get back home, though.

.

Satan thinks the kid is a young cousin of yours, but he really hasn’t been paying attention to anything in a long while. How could he, when the enthusiastic toddler had taken their mother’s phone just to show him the family cat’s pictures and videos?

A Mackerel tabby cat, too chubby for his own good but not enough to be actually concerning; playing with feathers, blinking slowly, bumping his head against legs and shoulders, meowing sweetly and, basically, opening his heart in half and making it roam inside his chest like a butterfly.

What a good party.

He mentions all the stray cats behind his house, obviously leaving behind the name of the House of Lamentation and the Devildom, and all the times you’ve gone with him to feed them and play. Satan even shows pictures on his DDD and stops with an adoring expression when you appear on the screen, sitting on your toes with a kitty on your knees and smiling past the camera, straight at Satan.

However, what he hears next takes the air right out of his lungs. He sits down and clutches his pearls and the kid stares at him in anxious confusion, clearly witnessing but not understanding the severity of his distress.

Who, in their right mind, doesn’t like cats?

He remembers the first few times you had accompanied him to his route, intimidated and slightly lingering behind. Initially, he had assumed it was due to the novelty of your friendship or a possible fear of Devildom fauna, but nothing against cats!

Were you afraid of them or just plain uninterested? Why keep going with him if you weren’t as fond of them as he thought you were? Wouldn’t it be because of him, would it?

A warm feeling covers him like a blanket, makes him search for you with his eyes and then immediately blush when you excitedly wave at him, point at the kid and mouth ‘Cute cat!’

Yeah. Very cute.

.

On the other hand, Asmo hangs out with the people responsible for the decorations of the party and compliments them on their work. The colours are well-coordinated, there’s nothing out of place and the distribution was thought with all the guests in mind.

Although he hasn’t been able to help in that regard, he’s made sure you would be the centre of attention that evening; a complicated feature coming from him, but he had never minded sharing the main spot just as long as you were the one by his side; and everyone knows that.

You look cute and pretty and hot in your outfit, a style that both compliments and pleases you. You also worked together in your makeup for hours before getting to the party.

However, taking that much time might have been due to scrolling through social media and gossiping so much, but never mind that. Everyone agrees you look incredible and that is more than enough for him.

It isn’t until one of your friends mentions how weird it is to see you wearing makeup that he dares take his eyes away from you to stare at them in disbelief.

He would’ve never guessed that given that one of your favourite pastimes together is makeup as a whole: going shopping, watching tutorials, following trends, doing your own next to each other, doing each other’s… And, even if he wants to use it, his charming power is useless against you, so he knows you do your makeup because you want to and not because you feel forced by him.

Whether it’s something you share because you enjoy it or something you enjoy because you share it with him, he isn’t sure, but he can swear on his precious damned soul that makeup isn’t a need for you.

It’s just a bonus to your beauty.

.

Sitting at one of the tables, Beel is simultaneously talking to your older sibling while gulping down an entire plate of bite-sized snacks; thankfully, whatever apprehension anyone felt at his hunger died hours ago and now the conversation flowed more naturally, mainly centred around you.

As much as he loves having you near him and his brothers in the House of Lamentation and thinking of you as another member of the family, he is very interested in knowing how your human family is, especially your siblings. It’s another way of relating to you and making him feel closer.

Plus, he gets to know stories from your childhood you may never tell him on your own; anecdotes that will stay at the table he is currently sharing with your sibling.

Unfortunately, they reach a point where, although he wants to keep asking questions about you, doing so with a mouth full of food might end up with Lucifer’s scolding of the year. Also, he really wants to make a good impression.

So your sibling begins asking the questions. Surprisingly, they start with his tattoo; dark red curling around his muscles and almost going unnoticed under the colours of dusk. Beel smiles without giving it any importance because it really doesn’t have it, but forces himself to stop gulping down food when your sibling throws a fun fact about you.

You find tattoos attractive?

He feels an instant burning on his cheeks followed by the rapid beating of his heart and a knot in his stomach, but there’s also a faint unpleasant sour taste in his mouth.

You’ve never asked him about his tattoo, barely sparing a glance at it when you worked out together or he took off his jacket.

He wonders if you don’t like it or if you think it doesn’t look good on him because all he can remember is the focused look in your eyes while looking at his and the curve of your smile growing bigger as you listen to whatever he says, even when it is entirely about food, and…

You know what? He doesn’t really mind. He is fine with things as they are.

.

As both a friend of yours and a fellow younger brother, Belphie respects your sibling’s decision to spill your darkest secrets and thoroughly enjoys the air of comradery between them.

Don’t worry, he won’t let it go past actual serious matters; if you want him to know any of that, he’d rather have you telling him yourself when you’re ready and not get betrayed by your sibling. Silly and harmless pieces of information, however? Those are more than welcome.

And he already has a favourite.

You need to hug plushies to sleep? Tell him more. He doesn’t judge you for feeling the need to hug toys or pillows while sleeping. Actually, he understands.

Do you have a favourite? Is it in the human realm or is it in your room back at the House of Lamentation? While he can recall seeing that ugly zombie iguana on your bed, he’s never seen you cuddling it while sleeping and, other than that, he doesn’t remember seeing one, so he wonders if you hide it somewhere when you know he’s going to your room; but what about those times he enters uninvited?

Does that mean you left your preferred plushie in your room in the human realm? Does that mean that you don’t actually need to hug anything to sleep?

Whenever you share a bed, which is pretty frequent, Belphie can sense an invisible barrier between you that he’s dying to break. It’s nothing physical, given that only he knows how truly comfortable your lap and your chest are, but it’s obvious in the way your hands hesitate to bring him closer.

Shy and indecisive, while you don’t reject his advances, he’s still unsure what your feelings on the matter are. He’d initially thought you weren’t used to having anything so close to you while sleeping, but… now… Maybe he has to assure you that you can hug him as hard as you want.

Belphie is just as good as any plushie, after all; if not better.

.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[amorchai]

𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓 ─ f.o

pairing(s): finnick odair x female!reader

summary: after the beginning of the 75th hunger games, finnick loses sight of you, driving him insane with worry.

words: 1792

warnings/tags: reunion, slow-burn lovers, mentions of violence + death.

“who’s that?” katniss had asked, your frame shy and sad on the screen they all watched as you volunteered in front of mags announced name. finnick odair eyes snapping towards the pair as they hugged, his jaw tense.

haymitch watched the screen, effie cooing behind him, “y/n y/l/n.” he’s blunt and to the point and peeta’s observant eyes pick up on finnick poking your hip as you stand beside one another. “they seem close.”

“they are,” haymitch continues as the screen continues to the next tribute introductions, “before your requited romance wooed the capitol audience, that pair were quite the talk, not only in the capitol but everyone could see it.”

“see what?” katniss asked, curious with furrowed eyebrows. “they are in love!” effie claps, squealing happily and ignoring haymitch flinch and glare back at her. “yes… that. five years after finnick won, y/n came along. while the games carried out, finnick did everything he could to help y/n win the games.”

“and i mean everything. he got capitol to donate through speeches just so he could send her personalised letters and water almost all the time. capitol went crazy for them.”

katniss scoffed, the egotistical finnick had a heart? doubtful. from what katniss saw for the past few years, finnick was nothing but a man wanting to flirt with everyone to get what he wanted. it was clearly a rouse for the screen.

“tut all you want but they were the first to steal the people’s hearts before your time came along. when y/n won, snow wanted there to be a broadcasted reunion where finnick got to see her again. was quite the show.”

she had shook her head in disbelief, “but surely having two couples this year will be too much, i mean, they should know they can’t both win together.” peeta’s eyes flickered at the mention of ‘couple’, and haymitch smirks.

“that’s the thing, you two might be a couple in the capitol’s eyes. but they still have that ‘will they, won’t they?’ going on that the people of panem fawn over. if they have that chemistry during the games, there’s no doubt their donations will go through the roof.”

effie claps once again, the thought of seeing you and finnick on screen so ecstatic and exciting. “so i strongly suggest you make alliances with them, their donations will benefit you just as much.”

however, the start of the games was a whirlwind, katniss aimed to ally with the opposite types of people – far away from career districts and finnick odair with his love life. but before she knew it, katniss went from wanting him dead to watching him save peeta’s life.

she had her hand in peeta’s, tight and emotional from nearly losing him as her tears dry against her warm cheek. finnick was leading them down the quiet forest as several drums sounded in the distance each time someone died. katniss noticed the sudden loneliness beside finnick, every time the drums announced, the more tense he would get.

“where’s y/n?” katniss asked, squeezing peeta’s hand as they approached an open spot. finnick stopped, turning around, and for a moment his eyes looked desperate before he cleared his throat and looked around. “i don’t know. career tried to kill me when i first saw her and then she vanished.”

they exchange sympathetic looks, peeta looking to katniss before replying, “well, let’s find her.” finnick chuckles, feeling pitied, “that’s what i planned on doing.” katniss thought maybe their romance was for the screen, the anticipation of finally getting together to please the audience but she was doubting herself by the expression of worry on finnick’s face.

katniss had planned on a small group to rely on, peeta by her side throughout but then johanna accompanied alongside wiress and beetee which made her progressively more agitated. the more people the worse, finnick was out of sorts, everyone could tell.

any noise in the distance, finnick was standing warily, hoping for it to be you. but it never was. every night when the arena would light up with the fallen tributes, he would hardly breath in fear that your face arrived. but it never did.

you were alive, finnick just had no idea where, and katniss could tell while they all worked together, the plans he made was all an attempt to get you back next to him.

he hated this. what if one of you died before you met once more? finnick regrets not telling you how he feels, how irretrievably in love he was with you. he thought it was always obvious, within the way he presented himself, he would do anything and everything to protect you but now he feels he has failed.

and if he sees you again – god, he hopes he sees you again – then he will finally let you know. forget the slow pace, finnick was ready and desperate to have you in his arms.

when the sound of prim’s voice arrived, katniss left screaming for her sister. at first she was unaware that she was being followed, looking to the sky in horror to find a jabberjay.

she shoots it mercilessly, beyond terrified and finnick runs from the trees and she sighs, finding some comfort in a companion. “you okay?” finnick asked but before katniss can answer, there was another scream in the distance.

finnick’s expression drains, almost turning chalk white when your voice breaks through the trees with a scream of his name. katniss knew it was fake, jabberjays were surrounding this part of the woods.

however, prim wasn’t in the arena and you were. she tries to plead with finnick, “it’s not her!” but finnick is already running past at a brutal pace, pushing every branch out of the way as he follows the sound of your pained voice shouting, ‘finnick!’

he shouts for you, stopping in his tracks when the sound feels like it’s all around him, multiple versions of you begging for him to save you. “it’s just a jabberyjay it’s not her!” katniss says, a comforting hand on his shoulder but finnick shakes his head.

“well how do you think they got that sound? jabberjays copy.” somewhere out in the arena you will have been begging for his help, fighting against another tribute and finnick was nowhere near to help. he felt pained.

at least during your first game, finnick saw everything you did and could aid you with donations and ensure your safety. this time was much worse, he had no idea where you were even though you were in the same arena. and finnick felt he was starting to lose his mind.

but he was certain he had when the jabberjays all swarmed around him and katniss, screaming voices turning him into a soulless life as he sat on the ground and tried to hide until the hour was up and the mutts disappeared.

they tried to comfort him, johanna placing a hand to her friend’s shoulder and assuring him but finnick could only picture you. it was all he cared about, getting you back.

“let’s go back to the cornucopia,” beetee suggests and they all agree, aiding finnick and katniss to the river. katniss believed their romance was real now, her doubts dissipating slowly considering how sad a state finnick was as they walked to the river. she was thankful to have peeta beside her.

his head is down as they approach, his thoughts not relaxed since the jabberjays attacked and finnick feared it would never end.

“finnick!” he heard your voice and all his thoughts stopped. it was silent as they all stood, and finnick sighed and shut his eyes, “i can’t do this again.” finnick begged, tears threatening to fall as he fears he has to face the pain all over again.

“no, finnick, look!” peeta begs, a chuckle of happiness from him as he pats finnick’s shoulders and he finally looks forward and his breath is knocked from his lungs. your standing on the sand, outfit slightly teared and hair a mess but you were there and finnick was sure he must have passed out and this was all a dream.

or another sick nightmare sent from snow, “is this real of fake?” finnick says quietly, blinking as you stand a bit away, crying in disbelief. they’re all smiling, looking at you from a distance and peeta replies, “real. that’s her.”

“y/n?” finnick says in disbelief and you nod before taking a couple of steps forward, laughing through your tears, “finnick!” the tears are falling from his eyes now, blinking to escape the blur and see you as clear as he could, it was real. it was you.

“y/n!” he drops his weapons and sprints towards you, your arms open and lips smiling at him and finnick knows everything will be okay. “oh, god. oh my god,” finnick murmurs as he collapses against you, arms around your waist and face hidden in your neck.

he can smell your perfume, still lingering but faint, and your skin as soft as finnick remembers. you both forget you’re in the arena for a moment, feeling completely safe in each other’s arms and finnick sobs against your collarbone as he desperately holds on to you.

“are you okay? are you hurt? god- i was looking for you since the second the game started, i couldn’t find you!” finnick pulls back when he speaks, hands moving to hold your face. he’s looking deep into your tear-struck eyes and everything you’ve endured up until this point is worth it to be back beside him.

“i’m okay, i’m okay. i got chased off by the male tribute in district one immediately, i tried finding you the moment i lost him.” finnick laughs, sniffling but so happy to finally see you after all this time, the probability of not finding each other because you were both searching was inevitable.

“i love you, never leave me again, yeah?” finnick begs, thumbs running across your cheeks as he finally confesses how he feels. the terror of losing you was enough for him to not hold back anymore and you fawn, more tears when you reply, “i love you, finnick.”

he kisses you, immediately crashing back into you as he holds you as close as possible, lips moving desperately against yours. his kiss is passionate and fast, but his touch to your face gentle and kind. your mind was dizzy when finnick pulls away.

katniss watches with the rest, watching their saddened yet loving reunion and every belief that their love was fake is killed on the spot. too busy smiling with peeta as you both laugh and kiss one another, back in each other’s arms. there was no doubt that it wasn’t real.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[forever-rogue]

i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕

how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared

AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't drunk.

Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.

So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach. 

You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you. 

You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help. 

Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him. 

“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”

You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”

He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.

He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else. 

It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”

“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”

“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”

You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”

Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.

“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy. 

So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.

“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”

“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”

Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.

This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.

You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.

“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”

Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.

“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”

“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever. 

“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”

“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”

He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.

“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”

“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”

“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”

“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”

“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”

“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”

“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.

The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?

You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.

Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.

Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again. 

It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest. 

“Hey-”

“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”

“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”

“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.

“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”

“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”

“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”

“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”

They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now. 

“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.

“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it’ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”

“It was too long.”

“Definitely.”

[solar4seekstron]

Sorry if my English is bad, it is not my native language.

What do you think about this scenario, Orion in one of his archive searches, he meets one of the most important archivists of Iacon and when he sees him interested in the history of this place, he helps him to sneak to show him which are the best archives of history, with time, a little chemistry is created between them, the end is left to your taste (it would be nice a reunion between reader and the now Optimus Prime).

That sounds so sweet I’ll definitely try it!

Archives

Transformers One!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Cogged!Reader OneShot

Content: SFW

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

TW/Tags: Fluff, Orion is such a gremlin, Optimus is silly, Sentinel just wants attention, reader is saaaaaad for a good while, I think that’s all? Enjoy!

You were an archivists. You’ve worked in the archives for a very long time since you online. You always felt with sentinels flirting as well. But he never went further when he was around you.

On day when you were walking alone in the archives you heard someone. You peaked your head out the corner and saw a mining bot. He was…adorable..so small and curious as he looked around the place. So when he was looking at some old records you made it behind him. When he back up about to turn around his back hit yours. His cervos then touching behind him feeling your arms, hips, and waist.

”You need help there?” You asked in a soft voice. He then backed up. “Oh uh no- well you see-“ His hips and aft then hit the records table. That must've hurt.

You tried to not chuckle. “You alright there?” He nods. His voice is a bit high pitched. “Yes-“ You’d then hand him a few records from your cervo. Boy you loved that look on his face. The way his eyes widened and beamed up at you as he looked at the records and took them. That’s how it’s been since then for a while. He’d visit the archives. Well more like sneak in. And you both would look at old records. And he would look at your work as well. Even at times you would help him escape when the other guards would come in. It was like this for a few months.

At times you would make sure to keep your little secret. Even Sentinel noticed something a bit different from you. But he didn’t care much as long as you gave him attention. Orion wasn’t so secretive.

At least when it came to his best friend D. D always made sure to shut up Orion so no one knows.

After some time Sentinel called for you to help him out with polishing. You couldn’t say no and this caused you to miss Orion.

The whole time you thought of him as sentinel complained and talked about how you must live a boring life. When Orion made it to the archives he wondered where you were. But you must also be really busy. And so he carried on and will make sure to visit tomorrow before his shift again. Let’s just say Sentinel almost got handsy but Airachnid had came in with news of their mission. Causing him to have to leave. And you made your way back to your work.

After that you didn’t hear from Orion until the race. Seeing him on the TV as you had dinner with your friends. You were surprised and yet amazed at the same time. Watching as he almost won the race. But…When the news came of his death by Sentinel. You were heart broken. You honestly hoped to court the small miner. Even despite the size and class.

But as time went by. You just didn’t seem the same. Not that Sentinel noticed. And so after some time. You still haven’t felt like moving on. Until…the battle.

You saw everything once you ran out of the archives and with the crowd of bots as you all watch Orion fight his best friends. To see him die and then to die. Falling into the planet.

But then as the decepticons started to destroy the city and you almost died in the collapse….He came back… You watched as he fought his best friends. And when the battle was over. He and the other many cogged bots who came here left with him to the surface. From then on. It’s announced that he is your new leader. This made your spark sink a bit.

After that it never was right to go up to him. He was your cities new leader. And but he never forgot about you. One day as you made your way to the dark room where you met Orion. As you looked through the records you didn’t notice a larger bot behind you.

Once you turned around. Your helm bumped into a chest. When you looked up its- HIM?!?!

”O-Orion??!!” You backed into the records. Your back hitting them causing a few records to fall from the ground.

”Woah sorry. Thought it be ya know cute and funny? If I scared you and uh…” You chuckled. “I know what you meant.” You two stand there for a moment in silence as you two definitely blushed.

”O-Orion I heh, I was so sorry I thought I’d never see you again..” He had a gentle smile on his dermas as he leaned down. His hands against the shelves with the records as his helm is closer to yours. Man you were blushing so hard right now as he leaned his helm against your audio sensors. “Wanna be my Conjunx?”

He had the MOST ADORABLE SMILE EVER on his dermas. You tried your best to not laugh. Primus you love him so much. And you didn’t mind that he was a lot bigger than you. You nodded “Yes..OPtimus..I’ll be your Conjunx” his forhelm rested against yours as you both looked at each other. And his larger cervos gently held yours. When his dermas were about to touch yours. You stopped him, putting one of your cervos on his lips.

”Now now Prime. I waited for you for a loooong time. You can go through the courtship ritual.” Your digit booped his nose.

He chuckled as his cervo takes yours once more. You both leaned closer and finally your dermas meet. This song was long over due and the embrace was so much better. You to chose to stay in that spot…for a good while.

You are so happy.

[wcnderlnds]

drive ins and twinkie kisses | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: peter takes you to the movies and uses his favourite snack to make a move ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: none really. just kissing. ・❥・ authors note: i haven't wrote in a week because i've been sick but this idea came to me after some shenanigans in the evanverse server so <3

The new drive-in opening had been the latest buzz around town. Anywhere you went, everyone was talking about it to the point that you needed to go check it out yourself. All your friends had already been and were raving about it but you? Well, you didn’t exactly have anyone to go with. The night your friends had gone, you’d been on a mission with the X-Men so, although they’d invited you, you’d had to decline. The frown on your face anytime someone brought the drive-in up was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts including Peter Maximoff. Now, he wasn’t heartless – not at all but he wasn’t one to cave in just by seeing a pretty face. He had resisted for as long as he could but he couldn’t take it anymore when he saw you sat looking miserable when you had yet to pass up another opportunity to go.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed heavily, arms folded across his chest as he appeared in front of you in a blur of silver. “I’ll take you but don’t make a big deal about it or anyth- oof.”

Peter stumbled back slightly as you threw yourself at him, arms wrapping around his midsection while you hugged the life out of him. His hands hovered in the air, awkwardly wondering what the hell to do with them. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone - other than Kurt because for some reason he liked to tell him everything - Peter wasn’t the best when it came to physical affection or relationships. Maybe it was the lack of experience. Or maybe he was just a complete idiot whose brain short circuited at the feeling of another person touching him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in relationships before. He had but they hadn’t lasted longer than a few months before he lost interest or they got fed up with his consistent need to be moving. With you, you seemed to have captivated his interest the moment he met you. He remembered the day so vividly – how you’d walked into the mansion looking lost, almost scared. He’d been zooming through the halls but had come to a comedic halt when he spotted you. Introductions had been made thanks to him worming his way into Hank who had been giving you a tour of the place and it had gone from there. 

Peter found himself wanting to make you smile. On those dark, dreary days where he got lost in his own mind, the image of you smiling could always make things seem a little brighter. The fact you’d been moping around the mansion for the last week just didn’t sit well with him at all. If he had to take you to the drive-in himself then so be it. He could totally sit through a movie with you. Totally.

…so, maybe he couldn’t. Being in a car in the first place was enough for him to go on a rant about how he was much faster and cars were pointless to him but then there was the fact that he had to sit still for at least two hours. It was enough to drive the poor man crazy. A form of torture. His eyes darted around the place, the car full of all the candy wrappers the two of you had been eating since you’d first drove in. His deep brown eyes zoned in on you, the corners of his lips quirking up into a soft smile. Just watching you focus on the movie was enough to calm him, the knee he’d been bouncing up and down slowly coming to a halt. How was it you could make him such a mess yet so calm at the same time? Realising he should probably stop staring at you before he seemed like a creep, he eyed the last Twinkie sitting in the middle of you both.

His hand reached out to grab it but you must have had the same thought because he felt your fingers brushing against his. Peter instantly looked up, his eyes catching yours. “You tryna steal the last Twinkie from me, huh?”

“You were trying to steal it from me!” You protested, cheeks flushing. The feeling of his fingers touching your skin still sending shockwaves through you.

“Me, steal? Never. Can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing.”

“Okay, Mr Kelpto.”

Using his super speed, Peter quickly snatched the Twinkie, unwrapping it. “Okay, here’s an idea. I’ll eat from one end and you eat from the other. I won’t even cheat and use my super speed to eat more than you,” Peter stuffed one end in his mouth before you could reply, his hand gesturing for you to take the other end.

Peter could feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he began to chew the sugary treat. The closer the two of you got to the middle, the more he realised how stupid of an idea it was. Like, really? What did he think was going to happen? That was the problem – he didn’t think. Peter got an idea and rolled with it without really thinking next. He was almost certain his heart was about to beat out of his chest and fall into his lap as his face got closer to yours. Then he felt it, your lips gently brushing against his as the two of you ate the final piece. That was all it took for his brain to once again short circuit. Throwing all caution to the wind, his hand reached behind the back of your neck to pull you closer, eyes closing at the sensation of your lips against his. The kiss was cautious at first, Peter’s soft lips moving slowly against yours but when he felt your hand resting on his thigh, he gained the confidence to test the waters a little bit more. His tongue darted out across your bottom lip hoping and praying you wouldn’t push him away. When you parted your lips, he felt like he was actually going to ascend into the heavens. There was no way this was actually happening. Was he about to wake up and find out he was dreaming the whole time? He damn well hoped not.

Peter finally, eventually pulled away. His forehead rested against yours, a breathless laugh passed his lips. He took in your face, the slight red tint to your cheeks, your swollen lips and messy hair – he was making sure to take a mental photograph to look back on. This wasn’t something he wanted to forget anytime soon. Not that he wanted to ruin the moment but he had to speak. The silence unsettled him.

“Lady and The Tramp ain’t got nothin’ on us, babe,” he finally pulled away. He gently smoothed your hair down, reluctantly pulling his hand away from you. The music playing in the background caught his attention. His eyes darted to the movie screen seeing the credits rolling. “Oh, shit. We missed the end.”

“...eh, I’m not complaining,” your hands rested on the steering wheel as if you needed to ground yourself from that Earth shattering kiss. The only thought in your brain was how badly you wanted to do it again.

“Yeah? Should I start carrying Twinkies around with me everywhere now?” He raised his brows, leaning back against his cheek with a smirk.

“Yeah, you definitely should.”

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ldydeath @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @bohnerrific69 @lacucarachapisser @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

[yanderefarm]

yandere omega cultist introduction

more bad art. more disjointed thoughts. i hope i don't contradict myself when i write his part 2.

cw;; religion, omegaverse, yandere tendencies, nsft

Nephite is a very devoted and proud follower of Happy Homes. he loves his church, he loves his pastor, he loves his god.

he's always so happy to prepare the sacrament and take care of the youngest members of the church. absolutely anything he can do to help makes him happy.

his father is a very strict and rigid in his beliefs kind of man. his beliefs aligned nicely with the founder's so he and his wife joined when they had just gotten married. all their children have been raised in the cult and they don't know about anything outside of the compound.

Nephite's family along with a few others are technically considered lowest in the church hierarchy because they entered the church after marriage. they don't get treated poorly it just means they're in charge of providing food for the compound.

the coming of age omegas were promised that if they brought new alphas to the cult they would raise in rank with their new families.

Nephite was especially looked at favourably for this due to being a "dominant" omega. he was promised that his new family would be able to rise to the level of elder right under the founder's own family.

his family was more excited about the new power than he was, he just wanted to serve the church.

after meeting you the promise that elders were allowed to go into the city made the raise in rank more appealing to him.

he wants to go to all of your favorite places. he wants to go to the movies and eat popcorn. he wants to play games at the arcade. he wants to try sweets at the cafe. he's never wanted to go to the outside world before he met you.

the church never teaches that the outside world is some ominous and dangerous threat. just that impure omegas have convinced people to disrupt the natural order. if you showed any member of the cult omega/omega couples they would combust.

thats why Nephite has to save you. he has to pull you away from the wickedness of the outside world before you become ruined. if you told him you'd been in alpha/alpha relationships he would combust.

honestly if you tell him about your dating history or experiences he'll combust. he knows it's wrong for an omega to be angry and aggressive but he can't help himself. the idea of any impure hands touching you sends him spiraling.

he could easily be convinced someone else in the cult wants you for themselves. especially if his pastor says so.

he trusts anything his pastor tells him even if it was utterly ridiculous. he was the kind of kid who believed in santa until adulthood. he would believe you if you said the sky was red.

you're the only one who overrides the pastor's words. if the pastor tells him to leave you because you don't love him he wouldn't believe it.

honestly if you started saying you don't love him he could probably justify to himself why you're lying. lying is a sin but its ok he forgives you.

he loves wearing dresses. at first it might seem like a religious thing but the other male omegas in the community usually only wear dresses to church. he wears them all year round.

if you buy him a sundress he'll be so happy he'll wear it every chance he gets. he flaunts it to all his friends how his alpha got him something pretty.

buy him anything and the whole commune will know about it baring few exceptions. you bought him a new bible? he takes it with him everywhere. you bought him some jewelry? its always on to show off at a moments notice. you gave him a cool rock? its his lucky rock and has to go everywhere with him.

he adores pet names. call him anything even if it doesn't sound that cute and he's thrilled. he calls you husband and alpha and dearest until he can't talk anymore.

if you call him wife he'll probably start crying. he likes husband too but he was taught all omegas are wives so he'll probably be confused at first if you call him that.

nsfw

his dad was in charge of making his account and monitoring his messages so unfortunately for you if you ever sent something dirty. the pastor probably also saw it. sorry.

Nephite definitely smells like blackberries and honey. its sweet and warm and permeates through everything he owns.

he has a breeding kink. major breeding kink. after your first night together its like he's constantly in heat (his actual heats are so much worse). he knows it's a bit naughty but he won't be satisfied until he's pregnant.

he'll be understanding if not a bit sad if you don't want to have kids but still tell him you're gonna get him pregnant every night anyway.

one of the few things he wouldn't go around letting everyone know you gifted him is lingerie and toys.

you'll need to explain toys to him a little bit but he understands lingerie. he loves lingerie. if you buy him some he'll wear it under his dresses all the time. it feels a bit naughty but he doesn't mind.

definitely secretly has a corruption kink. he's devoted his whole life to being a pure innocent soul so when his husband who he's equally devoted to starts making him be naughty he gets such a thrill.

he'll cry and beg you to not turn him into a pervert but he's just talk. nothing makes him squirt harder than being told he's dirty.

and he is a squirter. you have to work him to it but the moment your knot pops inside of him its over for him.

the cult doesn't believe in modern medicine like heat suppressants or birth control so everyone in the compound uses natural remedies for everything. except that doesn't work for dominant omegas. most modern heat suppressants don't. Nephite's first heat was absolutely brutal for him and he was stuck in bed for two weeks before they finally let him see a doctor in the city. that's when he learned about his status and he was put on some of the strongest heat suppressants. it works but it did make him feel weaker sometimes.

luckily now he's married so he threw all that out. he doesn't let you take any rut inhibitors either. when it's time for either of you he just politely tells the pastor that he'll be gone for the next two weeks. they don't always last that long but he likes to get extra cuddles in while the last of it fades.

its during his first heat with you that you mark him. its a weird marriage ritual the cult has where the pastor distributed heat inducers into Nephite. the elders of the cult along with the pastor watched you guys. it really ramped up the creepy cult vibes. but Nephite was happy.

he knows you can't mark him more than once but he always wants you to bite him again. he likes if you leave any marks on him. claw his hips, bite his neck, leave hickeys on his chest. he doesn't care how hard it is to cover up he'll be happy.

loves to steal your clothes. he'll remake his nest about once a week and give you back your clothes so you can add your scent again. and the ones that dont pass the nest test he wears to bed until they lose their smell.

he'll welcome you home like "do you want dinner, a bath, or me?" and if you don't say him he'll pout all through dinner.

[prismuffin]

Sorry I don't request much but can I get a miles x male reader please. Where the reader doesn't talk much but when miles finally hears his voice he shocked.

If you can't do this I'll understand 😊

A/n: This seemed like a good little request to dust off the old writing skills. This might be a bit short since it's my first time writing in a while.

Grateful

Miles Morales x mute!male!reader

( summary: Though Miles was curious about how you sounded he knew you had your reasons for being mute, so it shocked him when he heard you speak for the first time since he'd met you. )

Warnings?: just some light swearing!

!-!more under the cut!-!

Miles smiled at the sight of you in the hallway, he met you a few months ago when you'd first come to Visions. He was tasked by one of his teachers to show you around. Now being more comfortable at his prestigious school, he took it upon himself to make you feel welcomed, giving you a friendly introduction to the school that he wish he had when he first joined. At first, he thought that would be a bit challenging after discovering the fact that you were mute but it turns out actions do speak louder than words.

The sound of the bell made him snap back to reality as he noticed you walking up to him, the same smile you always wore present on your face. "Hey y/n, what's up man?" He smirked, dapping you up as your body jolted in a silent laugh. "Your weekend good?" He asked, and you nodded, your arm going around his shoulder as you both started walking down the hallway. He started rambling about his weekend, glancing at you every now and then to determine your reaction. Your smile could only widen as you heard stories about Miles and his family, he always looked so happy to talk about them. Your eyes softened as they scanned over his face, he'd been so kind to you since the day you two met. You were understandably anxious about joining a new school but Miles made it all so much easier. The carefree attitude that radiated off of him made him seem so cool to you. Before meeting him, you were in a much darker place. Being selectively mute made making friends somewhat difficult. Not everyone understood exactly why you did it. They often questioned you and found you a bit weird or just thought you were shy and awkward. But Miles saw deeper than that, he didn't let your silence deter him from getting to know you as a person, most people never even bother to try. When you were with him you didn't feel like an outcast, you just felt like a regular guy. "Y/n, you listening?" Miles suddenly asked, and you snapped out of your trance, nodding quickly as you gave him a rushed smile. He didn't seem totally convinced, "Am I boring you?" you shook your head, furrowing your eyebrows and he smiled. "Good, well anyway like I was saying-" You blinked, his words dying on your ears as you were forced back into your thoughts. You were just so grateful to have someone like Miles in your life who saw you as an actual person, who talked to you like an actual person, just someone who saw you for you. You'd wanted to thank him for it all, even if to others it seems like the bare minimum.

You unwrapped your arm from around Miles' shoulder as you saw your classroom in sight. "Oh damn we got here kinda fast," You nodded, stopping in front of your classroom door. Miles dapped you up again, "Alright bro, I'll see you at lunch kay?" He gave you a smile before turning to leave but stopped as you grabbed his arm. Turning back around, he raised an eyebrow, looking at you in confusion. You felt yourself start to sweat as you inhaled sharply. Opening your mouth, you hesitated slightly, struggling to find the words you randomly felt the need to say. For the first time in your life you felt as though actions couldn't possibly speak louder than words could. Your eyes darted around his face as you attempted to gather the courage to actually do it. He stopped, looking at you with even more confusion than before as you seemingly froze in front of him. He reached down, getting ready to pull out his phone in case you felt the need to say something more than yes or no but stopped in his tracks as he heard you.

"Thank you,"

His eyes snapped to yours at the sound of your voice, it was deeper than he'd expected and was a little hoarse from lack of use. You slightly cringed at the harshness of your voice, holding back a laugh at the shocked look on Miles' face as you gave him an awkward smile before deciding to clarify a bit more. "For being my friend, and..stuff..." your voice trailed off as you looked away from him in embarrassment. His face suddenly broke out into a large smile, "Wow, I made you break your oath of silence just to thank me?" He teased, giving you a friendly shove as you smiled back at him, your eyebrows still awkwardly furrowed. You nodded and he groaned, "Aww come on I just got you to start talking and then you go silent on me again?" You waved your hands in front of you dismissively making him laugh, "I'm joking I'm joking, but- you know you don't have to thank me for stuff like that right?" He said, his head cocked in slight confusion. "You're a cool dude Y/n," He placed his hand on your shoulder and you smiled softly, glancing at his hand for a moment. You simply nodded like you had many times before.

Even if the whole thing was a little awkward at least now he knew how grateful you were to have a friend like him.

----!----

( I'm a bit iffy on this- it's my first time writing in a while so excuse me if it's a bit bad )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are CLOSED !!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[chaoticfishie]

While I sip on my apple tea and eat my apple pie, let me tell you another my opinion of Calebs storyline.

Warning: Spoilers!

First of all, I was always a Caleb stan the moment I saw him and chapter 4 broke me back then. My worry was, how the devs will handle him in the story. It is hard writing a character who is suppose to be dead in MCs eyes.

His introduction was🥵 him in uniform and then using his evol against an assassin had me feel things and then the scene where the fleet landed and him in his sunglasses AHHHHHH!

The interrogation was also hot af! But that’s not my point, I could go on for days talking about how sexy Caleb is lol When they hugged you could actually feel the relief on both sides. Let me say this but MC in this story was better than before in my opinion.

And I know a lot are creep out by his possessiveness but knowing that he also lost his parents as a young child he probably was already traumatised and then MC came into his life, someone who gave him warmth, that little boy wanted to start protecting his sun so bad. In his anecdotes there is a hint that Caleb was already possessive like he is now. He almost lost his life too during his training as an aerospace pilot but the only thing that kept him fighting was the thought of MC. And now after the explosion he took the sacrifice to be an experiment so that MC won’t have to go through that. In his mind it’s better to be alive than letting MC fight on her own.

And that chip??? Every soldier seems to have in the fleet where they basically become cold and emotionless soldiers? Or when that kid was crying for his sister’s death and the chip realised an error? MC in his myth was implementing one into herself (Might be wrong but I think it is heavily implied) and the chip made her go crazy. She thought there is no tomorrow! Maybe that chip also makes Calebs fear even bigger and that’s why he’s like that now. And possessiveness might not be count as a “weak feeling” by the system.

His possessiveness throughout the main story makes more sense now if you keep that in mind. Am I still mad that he drugged us? Edit: A friend of mine told me that the english translation once again sucks ass. In Chinese it was just cold medicine and he just took the chance since MC was already sick to his advantage. Absolutely! But it shows me how easy it is for love turning into possession, the fear he feels makes him do things he normally wouldn’t act out. He wants to protect his sun so bad.

MC however wants to go back in time where everything was still alright. She sees that Caleb is in pain, that someone who had no secrets with her suddenly is not telling her everything. Unlike Zayne, who MC met again as basically “a stranger”, Caleb was constantly in her life and both of them didn’t want to be separated ever. It is understandable that she can’t grasp the “new Caleb” yet.

Both of them yearn for each other so badly and want whats best for the other one but they need to understand that none of them is the same as before. MC is not a child, she knows things about herself which she can’t ignore anymore and Caleb needs to accept that. MC on the other hand needs to accept that after the explosion, Caleb due to circumstances is not the Caleb she knew before.

I was so happy when the start of his myth told us that they found a way to coexist but you could feel that they don’t fully accept it 100%. Yet both of them are ready to die for each other.

And let’s not forget that MC is possessive herself. In his 4* where MC kisses his cheek, the story was about how MC thought he got a love letter and knowing how Caleb never accepted one before, she got curious. She vaguely asked Caleb in 3rd person and he thought she had a crush on someone. Both of them were restless and who tf gets restless not knowing your best friend crush?? UNLESS you yourself are possessive for that person. And the promise they both made at the end? “You promise to not ever get a girlfriend!” That is one cruel promise to make UNLESS again, you are possessive if each other and deep down you know you’ll end up together😂Crazy finds crazy😂

I really like how the devs wrote this story. It is exactly how I thought the vibe would be between those two and I can’t wait for the next story cards and main story.

What is your thought, dear reader?

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Match my Freak - Gaz x Reader

3.5k

Content Warnings - BDSM Dom and Sub relationship, impact play, breath play, a collar and leash are used, oral (m receiving), degradation, praise, PiV, multiple positions, spit, anal fingering, masochism and sadism

Summary - You finally take the plunge and download an app at the recommendation of a friend. On it you meet Kyle.

You stare at the text on your phone, a simple ‘here’ from Kyle. Your mind goes over the moments that led you to this moment. Talking to your friend about the fact you fantasize about that time you were fucked like a rag doll often, that you would love to relive that moment again. Of course, god bless your friend, they recommend you an app. “Plenty of freaks in the sea.” They said between sips of their drink. You’re not ashamed to admit that you had downloaded that app the moment they had mentioned it. As usual in apps like this, there are the ones who are clearly not there to seriously find what the app was created for. You met a few long distance guys and now your gallery has a nice wall of nudes and videos to send at least but it wasn’t what you wanted. You needed something to quell the ache between your legs, to rip you from your mind which ran a million miles in a minute. You still curse yourself for not taking your toys with you when moved but that’s beside the point now.

Then you found ‘Gaz’. That was the name on his profile, admittedly it made you kind of snort but you had already wasted some of your time, what's a few more minutes of hazing another guy? Even better was the fact that he was close. So yeah, you took the chance and by god are you happy that you did. After looking over his bio, which you did religiously with every guy you came across on this app, you sent him a message based off his bio. It had mentioned that you know where you belong, on your knees at his feet. So the next step was obvious. ‘I would love to be kneeling at your feet.’ You had thought to yourself after looking at his pictures that he had to be catfishing. Because there was no way someone as pretty as him was on this app, he probably got approached so often he had a million numbers filling up his phone. So you set your phone to the side and went to sleep, thinking that you’d probably not hear back from him.

So needless to say that you were NOT expecting to have first arranged a coffee meet up (vibe check). Even more needless to say that you were expecting his pictures to be exaggerated if not completely faked. But no. He is even more pretty than his pictures and the two of you talked until the coffee shop closed. Mostly about your interests outside of wanting to be dicked down or in his case, to be dicking someone down. Turns out he has three cats, loves to make music in his spare time and more importantly, once in his car, explained that he is experienced in this kind of community. Something that relieved some of your anxiety, you gave him your phone number and he dropped you back off at your place. You set a date and time for the first session after establishing basic boundaries. Do’s and don’ts for this session.

Now he was here to pick you up. Your heart couldn’t help but pound against your chest as you slipped on your shoes and walked out the door. The car ride was anxiety filling, at least for you. Your hands tremble a little so you keep them on your phone to hide that and he plays his favorite music. You keep reminding yourself that he knows what he’s doing, that he knows that you’re new to this kind of thing. You’re not completely inexperienced in BDSM but the things you’ve tried haven’t gone too far. But you want to go far, you want to know more about this and about yourself. Kyle seems to be the perfect introduction into the more… masochistic… side of yourself.

He brings you inside of his house, passing by his three cats who meow happily at their cat dad’s return and sniff at your legs before he leads you into his room. He had mentioned that he prefers a clean and organized space. As you take off your shoes and place them out of the way, you look around and realize you underestimated how clean and organized he liked it. He had wipe boards on the walls of his bedroom, each with lists of things he needs to do or get. Each one gives you a further glimpse into his personality. You’re seriously doubting he does music as a hobby because he seems rather serious about it. You glance at him as he mutters something to himself, “I might’ve pulled it out already.” He wanders over to the bedside table and opens the top drawer. You get only a glimpse in there, you spot what you think is a vibrator of some kind, some lube (thank god) and finally a collar and leash. That is what he pulls out. Your stomach does a flip as you force yourself to look away from it.

Right, you had mentioned wanting to try having a collar on and a leash. You can feel your cheeks warming up and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Instead he stands in front of you, lifting your head with two fingers under your chin. “I’m gonna freshen up and when I’m done, I expect you to be out of these.” He touches your outfit like it personally insulted him. You nod, unable to form words and watch him go into his bathroom. You don’t wait, you don’t know how long it’ll take, you strip yourself down to your underwear. For a moment you hesitate. Does he want this off as well? You decide he likely does and even if he doesn’t, he’s already seen your cunt in the pictures he requested. You place the clothes in the corner, unsure where you should put them, then sit back down. Thankfully for your poor beating heart he finishes up not that much longer after. He comes out of the bathroom and looks at you appreciatively. He grabs the collar and leash combo, looks to you for confirmation and you nod, words still unable to form in your mouth.

He puts the collar around your throat, he tightens it and checks the space between the leather collar and your skin. Seemingly satisfied, he wraps the leash in his fist, “Kneel.” You’re quick to comply, quickly getting off the bed and kneeling on the carpeted floor. Kyle forces your head up and mouth open, it strikes you then that he’s inspecting you. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip and presses onto your tongue. “Up, lay on the bed facing me and spread your legs.” Again you comply, you’re thankful he doesn’t comment on the fact you’re trembling. You can’t help it, you’re excited like some kind of small dog. Eager for this to be happening. You force yourself to look at the ceiling as your face heats further as he spreads the folds of your cunt and presses his finger in slightly and pushes a gasp from your lips. He gives it a light slap, your hips jerk involuntarily and your eyes immediately shoot to him. You don’t need to know him down to the depths of his soul to know that slightly smug look on his face, his lips quirked up and a glint in his eyes. 

“On your stomach.” You flip over and he spreads your ass cheeks, you bite your lip as he inspects that hole. His hands run over the fat of your ass appreciatively, he grabs a handful and releases it to watch it jiggle. “When I do this,” He speaks suddenly and you snap back from that slightly cloudy space he had already started to push you into, “I am inspecting your holes. Face me.” You turn around and look at him, meeting his dark brown eyes and then your eyes dart to his hand as it grips something you hadn’t noticed earlier. A riding crop, your mouth waters as the phantom sting of pain dances across your skin at the idea of that leather hitting your skin. “Kneel.” As you sit on your knees and look up at him, the leash wrapped around his fist and the crop in the other he asks you, “How much do you like pain?” You hesitate for a second and he adds, “On a scale of one to ten.”

“A six?” You say but it feels like your own question. Honestly, you only know that you like pain. You like the bite of it, the lingering sting that comes with a slap or hit. You adore how hot your skin gets after contact.

“Then I’ll take it easy on you.” You don’t amend your previous answer even though a part of you is telling you to. Learn where the line starts first before trying to find the end of it you tell yourself. The strike from the crop doesn’t quite sting even though it lands on its target, your breast. He corrects this with the second strike to the other one and you let out a gasp. Kyle takes this information and uses it for the next three strikes, each one leaving behind that familiar sting that sinks you back into that cloudy headspace. He tugs on the leash, you’re only half aware when your eyes find his hard cock. At some point while you were floating in that fuzzy space he had rolled on a condom and you don’t need to hear his words to know what you need to do next. Your mouth opens on instinct and his cock slides into your mouth. It's a beautiful thing, his cock. You normally don’t think like that, usually cocks are weird things. With their mushroom heads and the way they just look. But Kyle’s? God it's beautiful and some part of you wants to thank him for the chance to have it in your mouth even if there is a protective layer of rubber.

You feel bad for not having enough salvia and make a mental note to drink more fucking water. You do your best to work with what you have, you swipe your tongue on the underside of his cock and while you don’t hear him, you feel him pull on the collar to push his cock further down your throat. You force your throat to relax, you’re not going to gag as violently as you normally do. You nearly protest when he pulls his cock from your mouth but he cuts it off swiftly when he tells you to get on bed, face towards the ceiling. Your eyes fix directly on him as he grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, he glances up at you from under his lashes, his hand still wrapped around the leash connected to the collar around your throat as he slides his cock between your folds. The head of it grazes your clit and you feel an electric shock go through you, his lips quirk up again and he releases your leash. Kyle reaches over to the bottle of lube and pops open the cap before lathering a generous amount on his cock before he lines himself up. The initial push is difficult and you try your best to relax as his thick cock pushes itself into you. Forcing the tightness that’s come about from simply not being laid in a while to mold to his dick’s shape, your lips part as he bottoms out.

Your head falls back and you blink up at the ceiling, swallowing hard against the collar wrapped around your throat. “Look at me.” Your eyes snap back to him, his free hand is around your thigh and the other still holds that riding crop. His hand makes contact with your cheek, the sting is immediate, your skin heats from the force of it and your cunt clenches around him. He does it again three more times, twice to the same spot and once to the other cheek as that haze settles over you. Finally he moves, pulling his hips back before snapping them back to yours. It pulls a moan from you and he strikes your tit with the riding crop at that exact level he had established earlier making your eyes flutter.

The pace Kyle sets is brutal. Each snap of his hips, each thrust has your hands gripping the blanket beneath you. It has you moaning despite your attempts to keep quiet, you think he might have a thing against you trying to be quiet. He uses the crop a few more times; once hitting directly onto your hardened nipple which pulls a shriek from you at the same time his cock hits that space inside of you that makes your back arch off the bed. “You like this don’t you?” You nod and choke out a ‘yes’ to which he growls, “It's sir to you.”

“Yes sir.” You moan, his well groomed patch of hair just barely grazing your clit. 

Just enough to drive you insane. You nearly sob when he pulls out but he barks out, “On your hands and knees.” You comply immediately, scrambling to fulfill his order. You arch your back as well as you can for him, pressing your chest to the mattress as you feel it sink beneath his weight behind you. He smacks your ass and you bite your lip to swallow the sound that pulls from you. Burying your face into the blanket at the same time he buries his thick cock back into your weeping hole. You moan into the blanket, your mouth falling open as he smacks your ass once again and readjusts his position. He plants one foot flat on the bed and that changes everything. The force he uses for the next thrust not only punches an unfamiliar sound from you but pushes you up the bed just a little. One of his hands tightens around your waist while the other trails up your back. For the moment, you think he’s going for the leash until he laces his fingers into your hair and pulls.

You gasp into the open air as he doesn’t break pace. You claw at the bed, your ah-ah-ah’s fill the room and you feel yourself clenching around him. Fuck, he just needs to keep going and you might just cum. You’ve never cum from just penetration before, god wouldn’t that be something else? “What a good fucking slut. Are you a good slut?”

“Y-yes sir!” You reply between moans, barely able to catch your breath at this point as his hand comes down hard on your ass.

“Thats fucking right. And you’re my slut.” You nod, eager to please him. To make him continue, god you’re so fucking close. “Gonna cum?” You reply with a nod which gets your ass a slap, “Speak when I talk to you.”

“Yes sir!” You slur out, fingers digging further into the blanket. You feel a sob building up in your throat as he only doubles down. The fingers digging into your waist move as his bulky arm (you want to bite it so bad. You had looked at his profile pictures just to stare at them) wraps around your hips and his fingers immediately find your hardened clit, begging for stimulation. Your orgasm is like a brick wall, fuck you haven’t cum for months. Your legs start to cramp and begin shaking, you actually let out a choked sob as you clench around his cock like you’re trying to choke the life out of it. You're fully submerged in that cloudy state, words just falling out of your mouth at this point. “Thank you thank you thank you.” You repeat, a few tears dripping from your cheeks onto the blanket.

You don’t even fight, wouldn’t want to anyways, as he pushes down on your back and forces you to lay on your belly. When he pushes his cock back into you, there’s a slight burn and you know you have clenched down on him hard. Your mind is still spinning from the orgasm, you’re not even down in your body when he thrusts. The sound you make is somewhere between a scream and a moan, to be honest you can’t really tell because you’re too busy focusing on the hand that wraps around your throat to force your head back up. “Fucking slut.” He grunts out and you can only attempt to nod in agreement. You are. You know you are. Only sluts like to be fucked like this, like that sting on their skin. That bite of pain that makes your head fuzzy. You’re vaguely aware of his other hand wandering over the expanse of your ass before it dips in between your cheeks. You’re pulled just slightly out of that haze as he spits down on you, the glob of saliva landing near where he intends before he swipes it up with his thumb. Your eyes widen and you feel your pussy gush at the realization of what’s happening. Slowly, he pushes his thumb into your puckered hole and you can’t hold your head up at the pressure. It makes your legs kick just a little until he’s down to the knuckle. He hooks it in you, using it like fucked up leverage. It makes your skin prickle with heat and push you back into that haze, pushing you further than you were before.

When his hand moves from your throat you gulp down some air for only a second before it's replaced by his arm. Your moans are cut short but he doesn’t seem to mind, fuck he seems to like it more when you try to moan but can’t. Each one being cut off by a different sound he’s punching out of your lungs each time his cock bullies back into your weeping cunt. With a grunt, you feel it against your back; the rumble of his chest as his hips still and he fills the condom. You mourn the lack of warmth within your cunt when he pulls out. You know it's for the best, at least for now while the two of you figure things out and push your limits. But fuck you would love to have his cum seeping out of you.

You roll over, trying to catch your breath when you see him rolling on another onto his still hard cock. You can’t decide if your stomach plummeted or if it flipped. This time, he doesn’t hide that smirk on his face and it flips something in your brain. Makes you want to bare your throat so he can push his teeth into the delicate skin until there’s blood. Until your blood coats his lips and teeth, until the tang of iron is on his tongue. He crawls over you, pushing your legs up so his hips can settle between them. His fingers hook under your collar as he pushes his cock back into you. It dawns on you that he hadn’t been all the way in at first. He must have left a few inches out because when he pushes all the way this time, you feel that delightful pinch in your stomach and that burn from your hole. Next time, you decide, you’re going to really get a look at his cock. Really admire it. Because you can feel how he thickens at the base, you can feel how the tip of him pushes against your unyielding cervix.

He pulls your head up towards him, his mouth by your ear as he begins his pace again. You have to brace your hands against the headboard, slightly worried you might hit your head against it with the way he’s rutting into you. Kyle pulls moans from you like it’s his right and for now, it is. You completely surrendered your body to him for this, you told him to his face on the car ride home from the coffee shop that you like to be used. You want to be fucked like a doll. And by god, he was fulfilling that request. “When you’re with me I own you.” He growls out. His words take you by surprise and you look at him, your eyes wide like prey caught in the sight of a predator. Kyle’s beautiful brown eyes have darkened and he looks at you like he is a predator, like a fox licking its chops as it spots a bunny. “Your mouth. Your ass. Your cunt. I own them now.”

You nod and swallow down the sob nearly tearing its way from your throat, “Yes sir.”

“Thats fucking right. I own you, your holes are mine to use.” And he slams his cock back in, one hand shoots to his arm and you claw, choking yourself on the collar as you throw your head back.

You blink up at the ceiling, his thumb rubs against your skin in a soothing manner. A request you had made when it came to aftercare. You time your breaths and slowly bring yourself back to your body. You glance at him, unable to form words and he seems to be lacking them too despite the fact he had repeated what he said. His words still echo in your head, making your insides all fuzzy when you think about it. “So,” He finally says a minute later, “are you usually free on weekends?”

[dontexpectmuch]

“hello, i am jude bellingham and today i will be interviewing my partner in crime, the love of my life, the straw to my berry, the-“ judes long and exaggerated introduction was interrupted by you, who was sitting next to him on the couch, “don’t overdo it, bellingham.” rolling your eyes and trying to hold back your smile, you lightly hit his shoulder, thus, a smile creeping on his lips.

“right.” he clears his throat, “sorry, darlin’”, shortly looking at you, jude leans closer and softly headbutts you, like a cat would to show its affection to someone.

“today, jude has the opportunity to ask me anything he always has wanted to know.” you continue to explain, not fighting back the smile on your lips anymore.

“this is brought to you by 1&1.” he quickly adds, before looking down at the questions he wrote on the card in his hands .

after dating for one and a half year, your relationship finally public, judes football club, bvb, asked if you two wanted to do a couples video, the football club known for always doing something to bring footballer and fans closer together.

jude was really excited, he finally had an excuse to ask you everything he never really got a clear answer to, while your leg was shaking, nervous from what your boyfriend would ask.

“okay, love.” jude begins, quickly adding, “be honest, though.”

“promise.” you replied, looking at his face as he smirks.

well, fuck.

“wait!” you cut him off before he had even started, “why is he the only one asking me something? what about me?” you look at the people behind the camera, all of them looking at you with an apologetic smile.

“it was judes idea.” daniel, the video director answered.

“judeth.” narrowing your eyes, you look at your boyfriend, him not being sorry at all.

instead of saying anything, jude decides to begin with the first question, “who, besides me, is your football crush?”

“pedri gonzalez.” you answer without any hesitation.

jude, thinking you wouldn’t say a name, looked at you with shock writing over his face. “that was fu- i mean, really fast, babe, like, straight out.”

“you wanted me to answer honestly.”

“i thought i was your football crush?” he, being the oh so well-known drama queen he was, placed his hand on top of his heart, eyes wide.

“well, you can’t be my crush now, can you? you’re my boyfriend.” is all you say, shrugging with your shoulders. “i have thing for spanish men, like, have you seen him?”

“moving on!” jude tries to change the topic as fast as he could, “we will talk about this later, though.” he mumbled under his breath.

“pardon?”

“what would be a break up reason for you?” he asks, putting the question sheet down, legs crossed and upper body turned to you.

“you mean, like, with you? or in general?” you ask, head angled to the left, as you look at his face.

“in general.”

“easy,” you start, sitting up properly and facing the camera to explain everything, “i really like the movie trilogy ‘how to train your dragon.’ like, so much, i can’t even explain it, you just have to put it on whenever i have a bad day and i immediately feel better. but, if the person i’m dating says something like, ‘oh, ew why would you watch this blablabla.’ i’d immediately leave them, i don’t care.” your face was serious, eyebrows knitted together.

“nah, for real.” jude nods, agreeing with you, “that film is an absolute banger.”

“i know, right!” you know turn to face him, happy that your boyfriend seems to enjoy the films just like you do.

“but that’s a child movie.” someone behind the camera voices out, causing yours and judes head immediately to snap to the direction the voice came from, offended looks painted on your faces.

“take it back!” you exclaim.

“for real, i even cried when i saw that scene in the last part.” jude quickly comes to your aim, his hand sneaking behind your waist to draw faint shapes on your hip/waist area.

hearing him say that made you giggle, leaning against his side and putting your elbow on his knee.

and it is true, you guys really were partners in crime, he was the apple to your pie, the smoke to your high.

—————————————

hiccup could like, get it fr

[tr4gictea]

True Meaning: Prologue

Isekai teen!reader + Genshin Impact

❥Masterlist

Tags: none

Including: Introduction to the reader

word count: 1,309 words

A/n: Imma be honest, I thought I posted this story on Wednesday but apparently I just saved it to my drafts 😭.

This is a series that I want to start if you guys want me to, if not then I will still be posting this story along with my regular one-shots, headcanons, and stories but not as regularly. But if do want this to continue leave a note down below so I know that you guys like this and want more content of this story. :P

Next...

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

Your head was pounding, it felt like someone took a sword and stabbed it right through your head. Around you were tall trees with glowing blue flowers surrounding the bases of the trees. You don't know how you got here, one moment you were playing genshin in bed, then a voice called out to you.

"(Y/n), your soul is not of this world, you must move to the next," And all of a sudden you were lying on the muddy grass.

You got up and looked around, there was none in sight other than two slim foxes in the distance. Where were you? Exploring the area ahead you saw a small rock formation that looked like a little bear, and next to it was a bundle of lit candles. 

Continuing on you follow the stream next to you. On your way you pass by some small statues that you could compare to puppies or bear cubs. The path looked oddly familiar to you, it felt like you had walked down it before. You walk for about ten minutes passing by Japanese style gates before you spot an... electro seelie?! 

These only exist in genshin?! This cant be real! Wait. This can't be real, because it is a dream! That's why that path seemed so familiar! You smiled to yourself, proud that you “figured” it out. 

But if you are dreaming of the world of genshin that means you can explore the real Inazuma yourself! You've explored the Inazuma area hundreds of times so trying to find Inazuma City shouldn't be hard too. Plus the Raiden Shogun's home is so big that you could see it from miles away.

You walk down the path careful not to alert the hullichurl camps of your presence and make it to the village homes right outside of Inazuma city. When walking in you are greeted by a large tree with pink leaves falling down onto the ground.

As you pass by the villagers give you weird looks. They look you up and down then turn away from you. What's up with them? You wonder as you dust off your baggy black shirt that says 'return of the vampurrr' with a woman screaming at a giant cat and then shoving your hands in your teenage mutant in turtle pajama pants pockets. Wait, you have your sleeping clothes on. Maybe that's why they're giving you weird looks. The only thing that would maybe be okay for you to wear is the Vivienne Westwood Necklace you got off of amazon for 15 dollars. The orb in the middle of the necklace which was originally silver turned into a clear ball almost as if it was made of glass. Well, this is a dream so these people can deal with your choice of clothing.

You continue down the path and head up stone stairs where you see Yoimiya's firework shop and Hajime's blacksmith. He looks hard at work and for the first time you see him move away from the anvil and head to the fire.

I guess my dreams took a little creative liberty you thought as you walked past them. Everything in the city felt more lively than in the games. You saw more kids running up and down the streets, adults talking in groups, and even a pack of doushin traveling out of the city with Kujuo Sara leading them. You had a more creative imagination than you thought.

You walked by so many iconic places in the games that amazed you. Like the sango detective agency and Yae Publishing House. You even passed by Shouta, the little boy who's always offering stuff to the archons.

It couldn't hurt to talk to him and besides he had his hands clasped together and aggressively saying “pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” over and over again. "Whatcha doing?" You ask about appearing behind him. 

"I've heard that I can make a wish to the archon once I have placed the offering in the shrine. If the archon likes my offering, my wish will definitely be granted." he excitedly points to the shrine which has Konpeito candies placed at its base. He sounds exactly like he does in the game. You wonder how realistic your dream is. "I have brought all of my snacks here today, and I'd like to wish that the archon will cancel the exam tomorrow!"

"Have you gotten your wish yet?" You question. You know what he's gonna say but you're just curious to hear his voice lines.

"Hmm... It works about once in a dozen times... Last time, I wished bad luck upon someone who bullied me, and then he flunked his exam, haha!" He kept talking and brought up Yoimiya offering him fireworks and Itto as he describes 'big guy with the horns'.

Once he finishes talking he goes off script and asks "Why are you dressed like that?"

This question catches you off guard which causes you to stutter. "I, um well... I... bye." And with that, you turn on your heel and walk in the other direction leaving him with a confused look on his face. You didn't know how to answer that so you just left. Besides this wouldn't affect you as this was all a dream, you told yourself.

You continue walking past the Inazuma Katheryne staring lifelessly at nothing. You continued through Inazuma, still getting weird looks from the locals, but you finally made it to the place you wanted to see all this time. The Raiden Statue.

She was so much taller than she was in the game. Her hands were about as big as the two of you. The wings had glowing visions on them, you could only assume that the vision hunt decree was still in effect.

Looking at all the visions had you thinking about elemental power. If I'm here and not technically from this world does that mean that I can gain elemental powers by touching the statute of seven? Am I the traveler frfr?!?! As soon as the thought crossed your mind you raced to get to Ritou. You almost nearly catch the attention of some hilluchurls but are quick to get away from them. Arriving at Ritou you waste no time in looking at the shops around you and head straight to the Statue of Seven. It looks worn down and beat up. You go up to it and reach your hand out as the traveler did in the games and touch it. As you do, a crackle of electro power pops out of the statue and falls into your body. Looking down you see the originally clear orb of your Vivienne Westwood pendant now glowing electro-light.

"Woah," You reach your hand out and imagine a burst of electro coming out of your fingers and then... Nothing? Your hand remains the same and no elemental powers come out of you.

"Hmm... Maybe I'm supposed to say something... Uhh, aberacdabera!"

BOOM!

A large sudden burst of electro energy burst through your hands and hits a nearby tree, splitting it in half

"S-shit!" I hope none heard that...

"It came from over the wall, let's go around," 

Nope they definitely heard that, I have to go.

You set off running on the opposite side of the path you came up from. You snuck your way back into the Ritou market. And you spent the rest of your dream walking around Ritou until you started to feel tired.Hmm, that's weird, can you get tired in dreams? Maybe this is the dream's way of telling me it's over... But I don't wanna go... I still haven't seen Liyue or Fontaine yet... You try to steady yourself on a nearby tree when you fall over in exhaustion. Even if it was only for a day you still enjoyed your time here. Maybe you'd have another dream like this again…

More Genshin Impact Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

This is a series that I want to start if you guys want me to, if not then I will still be posting this story along with my regular one-shots, headcanons, and stories but not as regularly. But if you do want this to continue leave a note down below so I know that you guys like this and want more content about this story :P

Thank you for reading <3