#thanks for asking this it was interesting

[fgumi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re�� not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[mssorceressupreme]

Safe With You | K.D.H

———

Pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x reader

Summary: Dae-Ho protects you from bullies <33

Warnings: shy!reader, bullying, protective!daeho, he's so fit ughhh #needthat

———

The tense atmosphere in the room was suffocating, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats. You kept to the edges of the group, hoping to remain invisible. It wasn’t a new feeling—you’d always been the quiet one, preferring to observe rather than engage. Here, in this cruel game, where alliances could mean survival, your shyness felt like a curse.

You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting on the cold floor as the other players talked, schemed, and argued. The sheer chaos of their energy intimidated you. The louder voices, the ones who barked orders or jeered at others, made you feel small. Invisible was safer, or so you thought.

Then came the mocking.

Thanos was the first to notice you sitting there, quiet and still, avoiding eye contact. He nudged Nam-gyu with his elbow, smirking. “Hey, look at her,” he said, his voice carrying across the room. “Little Miss Shy over there. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

You glanced up, startled, but quickly looked away, hoping they’d lose interest. But Thanos was like a shark scenting blood.

“Aw, she’s cute,” Thanos chimed in, his tone dripping with mockery. “Too pretty to talk to us, huh? Or maybe she’s just too good for the likes of us.”

They both laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You tried to focus on the floor, to shrink into yourself, but Thanos crouched down in front of you, leaning in too close.

“Why so quiet?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes sharp. “Come on, say something.” He began stroking your cheek, brushing a strand of hair out your face.

“Please stop,” you whispered, your voice barely audible while you looked down.

Thanos chuckled, leaning closer. “Oh, she does talk. Maybe we should make her talk a little more.”

Namgyu reached out, poking your cheek playfully. You flinched, jerking back, and their laughter grew louder. “Don’t be like that,” Namgyu said, his grin widening. “We’re just having a little fun.”

You stood up quickly, your heart racing. “I said stop,” you said, louder this time, though your voice still wavered.

Thanos grabbed your wrist, his grip firm. “Don’t be so uptight. We’re just getting to know each other." His grip grew harsher, "Form an alliance and much more..." He cooed.

“Let go of her.”

The voice that interrupted was calm but commanding. Dae-ho stepped between you and the two bullies, his expression cold and dangerous. “You heard me,” he said, his gaze locking onto Thanos. “Let her go.”

"Relax man, she'll probably want to be in bed with me by tomorrow." Thanos smirked.

Dae-ho, grabbed Thanos by the collar harshly, lifting him slightly-off the ground, though still holding on to your wrist, "Don't make me ask you again."

Thanos hesitated for a moment, then scoffed, releasing your wrist with a sneer. “Chill, bro. We were just messing around.”

Dae-ho responded by releasing Thanos, his focus shifting to you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded shakily, rubbing your wrist. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Thanos muttered something under his breath, but Dae-ho shot him a glare that silenced him immediately. “Leave her alone,” he said, his tone final.

The two bullies slinked off, muttering complaints, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Dae-ho turned to you, his expression still serious. “Stick with me,” hi voice soft. “They won’t bother you again.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Can I?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean… can I stay with you? I don’t… I don’t feel safe alone.”

His expression softened further, and he nodded. “Of course. I’ll look out for you.”

Something in his voice, a quiet sincerity, made you believe him. He wasn’t just saying it; he meant it. You felt a strange sense of safety settle over you, like a fragile bubble that only he could create.

Dae-ho introduced you to his group, a small but tightly-knit circle of players who welcomed you warmly. They were kind, in stark contrast to the harshness of the others, and you found yourself slowly relaxing in their presence. But it was Dae-ho you felt most drawn to.

He stayed close to you, checking in often, making sure you had enough to eat or drink. His protective nature made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You found yourself watching him, memorising the way his hair fell over his eyes when he leaned in to talk, or the way his lips curved into a soft smile when he reassured you.

And he seemed to feel the same pull. He caught your gaze often, holding it a moment longer than necessary, his eyes warm and gentle. When you laughed—rare as it was—his expression would brighten, as though you’d given him a gift.

One night, as the group settled down to rest, you found yourself sitting next to him on his bunk bed, the quiet stretching between you. “Thank you,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For stepping in,” you said, meeting his warm chocolate eyes. “For… everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He smiled, small but genuine. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t just stand by and let them treat you like that.”

You hesitated, then added, “I feel… safe with you.”

His eyes glistened with a mix of pride and adoration, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But he only nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “Good,” he said. “Because I’ll make sure you stay safe. Always.”

The quiet promise in his words made your cheeks flush, and you looked away, your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You finally felt like you weren’t alone, and you hoped, that this, your newfound friendship with Dae-ho would blossom into something more.

[mggslover]

‘spencer’s “first” time showing you his jealous/possessive side’. bau reader and spencer just started dating and are a bit reserved when it comes to showing affection in the office. a new agent starts flirting/trying to get readers attention and for the first time spencer make sure everyone knows who his girl friend is <3 thank you !!!

the first time spencer gets jealous genre: fluff word count: 965 a/n: oh how i love this prompt!! thanks for the request

Spencer Reid wasn’t big on PDA, so it didn’t surprise you when he suggested keeping your relationship under wraps once it became official. You didn’t mind much—sure, it was a little frustrating when he’d pat your hand away at the round table or create distance the morning after a particularly fun night, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you—but in general, you were glad to keep things private. You had no problem avoiding the “no dating between coworkers” policy drama, and it gave you the opportunity to focus on the cases and enjoy Spencer’s company even more when you’d sneak off home together at the end of the day. 

So, when you found yourself chatting with the new addition to the team—Agent Owen Rogers—you didn’t expect the effect it would have on your boyfriend.

“Of course he’s taken an interest in her. That woman makes everyone fall head over heels,” Penelope half-sighed, her voice a mix of awe and envy as she watched you talk to Owen from the office window. Her words caught Spencer’s attention, and he turned to the scene, spotting you mid-conversation. He recognized the looks his colleagues were giving Owen—those same dreamy, admiring glances they'd had for Hotch’s brother whenever he visited the office.

Spencer’s posture stiffened as the understanding sank in. If he were being honest, he’d liked the new agent when they first met, but now, seeing the way Owen was smirking at you as he moved closer, that initial fondness had quickly morphed into distaste. He could still hear his colleagues gushing over the agent as he quickly got up and headed down the stairs toward you.

“So, I was thinking Italian? Do you like Italian?” Owen asked, his voice upbeat.

Before you could even open your mouth to turn him down, you felt the familiar warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We love Italian.”.

You stood there, completely bewildered, as your boyfriend not only inserted himself into the conversation but also made the boldest display of possessiveness, wrapping his arms around you without a second thought. It was so un-Spencer-like—especially in the office—but you weren’t about to complain, your hands instinctively resting over his arms.

“Actually, Owen—I can call you Owen, right?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation before continuing. “You know, it’s fascinating how often people pick Italian food for a first date. Objectively, it’s a terrible choice. Think about it: you’ve got these long, slippery noodles—spaghetti, for instance—that are practically designed to humiliate you. The odds of splattering marinara sauce all over yourself—or worse, your date—are alarmingly high. And then there’s the garlic. People convince themselves that a mint will magically erase it, but we both know that’s just a delusion. Why anyone still thinks it’s a good idea is beyond me. Kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, struggling to suppress your laughter as Owen’s face crumpled. You truly felt sorry for the poor thing—he really was a nice guy—but seeing Spencer get this sassy, especially when it was all because of you, was strangely entertaining.

“I—uh, yeah.” Owen gives a nervous laugh, his fingers awkwardly brushing the back of his neck. “Pretty stupid.”

“But we’d love to have Italian food with you! Right, baby?” Spencer gives your waist a subtle squeeze, his silent cue for you to play along.

You cough slightly, trying to cover your laugh. “Right! Yes, totally—Italian sounds great.”

“Yeah, that’s cool, guys. But, uh, now that I think about it, I’m swamped. You know, being a new agent and everything.” Roger’s voice wavers just enough to betray his weak excuse.

“So unfortunate. Maybe another time,” Spencer replied smoothly. Owen nodded stiffly, forcing a tight smile before quickly walking off.

You scoffed a laugh as Owen disappeared down the bullpen, the shock still lingering. You turned to Spencer, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“What in the world has gotten into that pretty head of yours?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a little, suddenly aware of how much of a spectacle he had just made in the middle of the office.

“He was asking you out,” he said quietly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You chuckled, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I was just about to say no.”

His arms found their way back around your waist, leaning into your touch as if he’d forgotten where he was. His eyes flickered from your hands to your face, his expression softening. “I know you were. But he should know not to ask you.”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, amused by how the man who’s so intent on keeping your relationship discreet in public is now letting his clingy nature shine through.

“You know he can’t smell that I’m taken, right?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Well, maybe we should change that,” Spencer whispered, his voice low as he leaned in, his face brushing against your neck, causing you to giggle.

Unbeknownst to you, the whole team had quietly tiptoed their way down the stairs, and gathered around on the other side of the bullpen. They stood there, wide-eyed, like they were watching an episode of their favorite drama.

“Derek… Am I seeing this right?” Garcia whispered, voice dripping with curiosity as she watched Spencer's face disappear into your neck.

Morgan’s chuckle echoed through the bullpen. “Oh yes, babygirl. You’re seeing it just right.”

Spencer’s grip on you tightened as he sensed the peering eyes, but instead of discomfort, he radiated a quiet pride. He wasn’t hiding anymore—he was proud of what you shared, proud to be yours, and for you to be his, and he wanted the world to know it.

[thebestsetter]

Sae's nutritionist has been having a hard time ever since the athlete started a family with you.

Sae has always followed his diets strictly. Never ate chocolate, avoided sugar the best he could and mainly ate only fruits and vegetables. His behavior was always praised by all his nutritionists because of how easy it was working with him.

Sae started to "disobey" his diet when he moved in with you.

It all started when you began to cook him lunch for after morning practice. You knew he had to follow a strict diet, so you never made something too unhealthy. Sometimes, you even sneaked some sweet treats for him, but it was too little to do any harm, so his doctor just pretended not to notice it.

But this?? This was too much.

"Sae-kun" he said, pointing at the pink princess pot on Sae's hands "W-what is this?"

"My daughter packed my lunch today" Sae smiled softly, just like he always did when talking about you or your daughter. The doctor would've thought the whole ordeal was cute, if not for what was inside the pot: a box orange juice you buy on those vending machines (it's orange color was almost radioactive. God knows how much sugar there is in it), a (very) poorly made pink cupcake, with rainbow sprinkles all over it; and scrambled eggs (thank God at least one healthy thing).

"You can't possibly be thinking about eating this" his doctor deadpanned, but quickly added "T-the cupcake and the juice, I mean. The eggs are fine"

Sae's smile instantly fell, and he stared at the nutritionist with a frown

"What's wrong with my daughter's food?" It wasn't a question. Sae was daring the doctor to say something bad about the cupcake his sweet, lovely daughter made, staring at him with a cold and almost dangerous gaze.

The poor doctor should've stopped there. He really should have. But if he let Sae eat this Chernobyl looking cupcake, he might as well just throw his nutrition degree on the nearest trash can.

"It's not good for your health" the nutritionist said, staring at the Cinderella that was painted on the top of the pot "As an athlete, you know it's important to lose old eating habits. You can't eat this."

Sae stared at the doctor for what felt like centuries, but finally looked at the cupcake and carefully picked it up, holding it in his hands like it was the most valuable thing he ever held.

The way his gaze softened just by looking at that sorry excuse of a pantry almost scared the doctor. One second, he was looking at him with what could only be described as pure hatred. The other, he was looking at an ugly cupcake like it was a masterpiece.

Anyways, Sae's doctor was just glad this was over with. Itoshi obviously was going to throw the cupcake away, eat the eggs, and just order something else to compliment his lunch. It would all be okay.

Or so he thought .

"You know" Sae started, peeling the paper that was carefully wrapped around the sweet treat "It's interesting that you talk about losing"

"Why?" The doctor asked, not really liking Sae's voice

Sae stared at the man for a while, then slowly looked at the cupcake and brought it up to his mouth. Just as he was about to take a bite out of it, he stopped and stared at the man again

"Cause you just lost your job"

"What?"

"You're not deaf" Sae said "You're fired. Grab your stuff and get out of my sight"

"You can't do that!" The doctor screamed at him, which only made Sae roll his eyes

"I can and I did. Out. Now."

The nutritionist knew it was useless arguing with the stoic Sae Itoshi. With a sigh, he turned away from the player to go and collect his belongings

"Just one more thing before you go"

He heard Sae say, which urged him to turn around. The moment he laid his eyes on Itoshi, the footballer took a bite out of the pink cupcake

"This is fucking delicious."

The doctor would NEVER eat a cupcake in his life again.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You test out a new lipstick

(Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia)

Tw: smooches! Shield your eyes!

Oh, would you look at that, you bought a new lipstick. You just need to test whether it wears down quickly or leaves any mark. 

✧ Pierro is in a haste. You blurt out that you need a new lipstick once, and the next thing you know, he purchases several high-quality ones for you. Offering you swatches of colors, makeup removers, different shades, and lipstick textures, he observes with analytical admiration as you sit in front of a mirror and apply the lipstick carefully. 

One last step is missing – to try its imprint. The Jester is ready to reach for a napkin to let you try. But you only smiled. Before he can comprehend, your hand reaches to turn his head and gently guides him closer to your lips until you sweetly capture his. It’s not often that The Jester experiences a complete blank out, but when you deliberately trace your lips across his skin and start preparing his face with kisses, how else is he supposed to react? Hold in his hitched breaths? Not deepen the kisses to relish the ambrosia of your lips?

Suffice it to say, you are proud of the imprints on his pale skin. He seems even prouder, wearing them like a badge of honor, despite his stoic appearance.

✧ You asked Il Capitano to evaluate the new shade of lipstick you bought. Like any loving partner, the honorable Captain stated honestly that any hue suits you elegantly. Even if his knowledge of cosmetics is minimal, he felt delighted and proud of your looks.  

But that wasn’t the issue. Now you were standing in front of him, smiling menacingly.  

“What is it, my treasure?”  

You stepped closer.  

“Dear…?”  

You stepped even closer. Oh no, thought the Captain, he’s in danger. His pleas for reason and mercy went unheard. Instead, he faced a bigger battle—a battle that left his helmet not with scratches but with various imprints of your kisses. You stood triumphantly, happy with your lipstick and the numerous marks on his helmet and neck. 

Il Capitano lost the battle that day. 

✧ At last, Il Dottore mused to himself, the perfect hue of lipstick designed scientifically for you. You voiced your issue in finding a suitable shade of makeup for yourself, hence you asked none other than your beloved to find a logical solution. So he took matters into his own hands to find the best chemical solution and accurately create the best shade to match your skin. 

Naturally, it was a success. With his gloves stained in various colorful substances, he proudly handed you a slender tube with a delicate black cap from the table as if it were a casual concoction he could make on a whimsy. Hence, you thanked him and blithely applied it on the spot.

“Dottore, it turned out magnificently!” – you said as you looked into the reflection of your face. But when you turned to look at him, Dottore’s complexion went vaguely blank. “Hm, what is it? Isn't it good? You made it matte, too.” 

He silently stepped forward; even behind his black mask, you could sense his full attention zooming on the beauty of your lips. 

"Well, true... I formulated it to be stain-proof, so it won't smudge as you go about your day. However," - he hummed, his hand cupping your jawline warmly. "Every product requires assiduous testing. We could conduct a few tests of our own to ensure its performance. If I may," 

Of course, he would test it personally. Of course, he then captures your lips in a kiss, his hand on the back of your head, his touch an ardent mix of passion and desire. He explores your mouth, his tongue caressing yours with a fervor, wanting to test how long the lipstick will last under the pressure of his kisses. You should've expected this, as his other hand encloses around you to press you flush against him. 

"Ah... interesting. It's held up quite well. There's no transfer on your skin or mine, but I do think further testing is necessary."

“Enough, enough! That’s plenty of testing from you!” 

✧ Scaramouche dislikes shopping. It’s a hassle, truly. You requested him to accompany you on a leisurely stroll, oblivious of your trap to drag him to some quick shopping. Except this quick shopping turned into a full-blown shopping spree. The question is: was he here to accompany you or to pull you away from wasting all your Mora on fleeting indulgences?

“No, you don't need any more clothes. You have plenty of unworn ones.”

“No, we don't need any more plushies, your bed is already littered with them.”

“And no, you already had some snacks on the way here. Stop buying more!”

You couldn't escape his stern reminders, even if they were practical. However, there was still one shop you left as an ace up your sleeves. Before finishing today's trip, you encouraged The Balladeer to join you in cosmetics shopping. Your innocent smile spoke promises of letting him choose your new lipstick color if he so desired, and the allure of it caused him to halt. 

“... Me? Why must I choose? Can't you pick a simple color and call it a day, huh?” - Scaramouche feigned annoyance when, in reality, he quickly grabbed your arm and led you hastily to the boutique. “We'll quickly buy one, but don't get any ideas that we're staying here for any longer.”

Poor Harbinger; he didn't have to lie to himself so cruelly. The two of you stayed in the boutique for a long while, not because you were indecisive, but because Scaramouche suddenly took the matters with utter seriousness. Should he suggest a carnelian shade? It would match with his own red eyeshade. Or perhaps a darker one would suit your complexion? Especially if you decided to leave contrasting lipstick imprints all over his porcelain skin- 

Scaramouche shook his head. Your voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um… Scara, sweetie? Could we decide already? We spent the whole day in this shop.”

“We'll buy all of them, then,” - he held up your face, his full focus on you as you timidly averted your gaze. “Here. Now let me help you apply it.” 

✧ Pantalone sat behind his desk, fingers intertwined thoughtfully. Silver glasses cast a shadow upon his already darkened gaze. His expression, unfortunately, was far from pleased. 

“L-lord Harbinger Regrator,” – the Fatui subordinate uttered. “It is with utmost sorrow that I must inform you that- that the cosmetologists you hired have not finished their work. They are still in the process of creating the products you requested.” 

The silence of the office was deafening. The Harbinger granted no mercy with his prolonged pause.

“... I commission the best cosmetologist in all of Teyvat, and they still dare to waste my Mora and time? Is this some frivolous matter for them?” - The Harbinger's hands sternly pressed against the table, his voice raised “My beloved requested a new lipstick! They deserve the best of the best, as soon as possible!” 

“Uh, honey… I am still here in the room.” - your voice interjected awkwardly. Indeed, it's true; you are sitting nearby, blinking in confusion. You waved at the Fatui subordinate to take it easy, signaling sympathetically that your partner was having another one of his ambitious episodes. 

“Honey, my love, this is no fleeting matter! I wanted you to get the highest, custom-made quality for cosmetics. You rarely ask for anything, but when you do, I can't just let you down!” 

“It's just lipstick…! I didn't even say what color or kind I wanted.”

“And that's precisely why you shall get all of them. You there,” - he signaled back to the subordinate swiftly. “Quick, send the letters to those cosmetic chemists to hurry up if they want to make themselves worth the Mora. Delays are not negotiable.”

With the Fatui worker scurrying away in a hurry, Pantalone sighed deeply before plopping down beside you on the sofa of his office. You patted his back, amused by his sudden precedence over something so mundane. 

“There, there, Pantalone. You know it's nothing urgent. It's just lipstick.”

“Not any lipstick. Your lipstick, darling! I need to see you don the most dazzling color on your lips.” He turned to gently trace his thumb across your jawline, his voice softening. “...The lips that should be showering me with kisses and leaving lipstick prints on my skin.”

You laughed heartily – “Oh, so that's what it's all about? You know, makeup or no makeup, I can still kiss y-”

You didn't register how The Harbinger's head bowed lowly in reverence. “I would pay you any amount of Mora for you to do so.” 

Pantalone truly knows how to blow up over the most bizarre things. Either way, as the weeks passed, the newly ordered cosmetics did arrive as instructed. How did people know? Because Pantalone didn’t shy away from flaunting the traces of your delicate lips on his neck and blouse. A testament to stolen kisses and intimate moments behind closed doors. His triumphant grin says it all. 

✧ Your ever-observant boyfriend, Tartaglia, noticed you mulling something over by the mirror. You seemed in deep focus, a new item in your hands as you inspected your visage. You tried on a new lipstick! 

Childe, being the endearing goofball that he is, complimented your new purchase with delight. You appreciated his knack for noticing even the smallest changes, even if you didn't directly tell him you tried on something new. All was well! 

Or was it? For beneath his easygoing smile, in the deepest recesses of his soul, Tartaglia was begging, crying, screaming. He wanted to hold your face in his palms and kiss you senseless. He wished to taste the sweetness of your lips until this adorable color of your lipstick was smeared on both of your faces. He wished to soak in the warmth of your pecks and kisses, dreaming for your touch to litter his face with imprints.  

Did he say all of that? Of course not. He kept beaming at you in adoration, his smile tender while his thoughts devouring. Yet, after days of wrestling with his unspoken desires, Childe devised a plan – a very, very subtle plan.

“Oh nooo,” - he lamented dramatically, leaning against the doorway with a hand draped theatrically over his forehead. “If only my beloved was here to bestow me some loving kisses, especially when they look so alluring in their new lipstick! If only!” 

You raised an eyebrow at Tartaglia’s shenanigans as if asking him: Really? What is this damsel in distress act? Nonetheless, luckily for the 11th, his oh-so-subtle hints hit the mark, because you happily cupped his cheeks and smooched them with fervor, feeling his warm skin under your lips as he chuckled.  

Needless to say, your lipstick didn’t stand a chance.

[afterglowsainz]

out of time | max verstappen

pairing: bsf!reader x max verstappen

summary: your best friend max and you have always been attracted to each other but you just keep dating other people instead of facing your feelings

fc: savannah lee smith

a/n: i’m still at the restaurant AGAIN (qatar 2024) (i’m also trying a new posting time so hopefully this won’t flop)

—

liked by maxverstappen1, bffusername and others

yourusername all the roads 👀🇮🇹

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username who is thattt

username ms girl you’re glowinggg

username obsessed with the outfits 🤩

username fourth pic ??? omg

username not even gonna bother asking who that is cause I know they’re just gonna break up in like a week

username RUDE

username but true

username love that she’s obsessed with hard launching the most random guys she hooks up with because (same) but when is she gonna hard launch max ????

username I think hell will have to froze first

liked by yourusername, gfusername and others

maxverstappen1 🤍

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username boooo that’s not y/n 🍅🍅🍅

username it never is unfortunately 😭

username this is like the fourth gf of the year???

yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

username girl please come get your man

username the most pinterest coded picture and is just with some random chick he’s gonna eventually break up with 😭

username I think the only ones that don’t know max and y/n are into each other are max and y/n

username oblivious babies🥹

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others

yourusername end of the season (cheering for the energy drink team or whatever) 🫶🏽

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maxverstappen1 as you should! 💙

username ugh get a room

username MY QUEEN 🩷

redbullracing always happy to have you💙

yourusername ILY ADMIN💗💗💗

username y/n being there and max’s gf not is … something

lilymhe gorgeous🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

username this is my favorite type of y/n photos

danielricciardo where to now?

yourusername you know the answer to that

liked by yourusername, bffusername and others

maxverstappen1 end of season 🥳

tagged martingarrix, danielricciardo and yourusername

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username WHO TOLD HIM it was appropriate to post the last picture????

username they are suchhhh a couple 😩😩

username max and y/n not being together challenge

username bfr they’re losing in the first five minutes

username atp i’m surprised neither martin or daniel have intervened

username ohhh he looks so cute 🥹

martingarrix 👊🏽😅

username thank god i’m not his girlfriend because i would not be so calm about that last picture

username same

liked by yourusername, f1wags and others

maxverstappen ☀️🌴

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username wtffff another one?

username SO SOON

username oh! and it’s still not y/n

username not interested then

username to know they’re eventually gonna break up once y/n gets a new boyfriend 😭

username those two NEED therapy

username I could write essays about that relationship

username wish you all the best! ❤️ (they’ll split in a week)

username bestie you’re a psychic!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

yourusername new york, new york 🧸

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username okay first of all slay

username that dress omg 😍

username I am no better than a man

username now who the hell is that

username can’t believe I’m losing my woman to some random new yorker

username it’s killing me that they like each other posts about getting a new partner every. single. time.

username why is it that her and max can’t be single for one minute

username bc they would have to face their feelings for each other lol

username and you’re so sure about that how?

username you obviously weren’t there in 2016

maxverstappen1 🍻🎉 (liked by yourusername)

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername tourist activities (and training) with maxie 📸

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username pls tell me you got a tattoo

yourusername unfortunately i did not 😔 next time for sure!

username omg

username the face card is insaneee

username “maxie” 🥹

username I actually cry passed out return to live and died

username pls just get together I’m on my knees you two deserve a happy ending with each other plssss 😩

username I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank you for the last pic

yourusername yw 🫡

username GIRL i know you saw the other comments

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername starting the season with a bangerrr 💥

tagged maxverstappen1

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username wow 😮‍💨

username her face is unreal omgggg

username max verstappen can you fight?

username i was never that close to max anyways

alexandrasaintmleux 😍

username truly the most beautiful woman

maxverstappen1 nice jacket, a bit big for you tho

yourusername I wonder why that is

username are they… flirting…

username openly… on the internet…

username quick! when was the last time they both posted they were dating someone?

username omg

liked by yourusername, martingarrix and others

maxverstappen1 i spend so much time looking for love in different places, i didn’t realize i had it right next to me ❤️ happy birthday my y/n <3

tagged yourusername

view all comments

username OMG WHAT wait hold on

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WTF IS HAPPENING OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN

username I will never recover

username chat is this real or am I hallucinating

username the way everyone wanted this and still no one knows how to act 😭

username because we never thought it’ll actually happen 😭😭😭

username “my y/n” I’m actually gonna go kms

username MY PARENTS FINALLY🥰

username god heard our prayers

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹 thank you my love <3

username romance is alive and breathing

[mahlikes]

#i often hyperbolize but i am dead serious when i say sobbing uncontrollably. this is why i was putting off this assignment. #1000 years of hell to professors who assign self-reflection papers /hj #i dont feel comfy posting the pdf bc its not mine butttt.. i will share it to people who dm me. #edit: pages 80-85 #edit: thank you to everyone who reached out and asked for the pdf!! i wasn’t expecting this reaction #keep reaching out I’ll keep sending it #if anyone is interested but struggles to read academic papers pls ask me for help bc I’ve gotten a lot of practice with them and am Glad to #expand someone’s access to a paper like this

Sobbing uncontrollably reading through a dissertation about the college experience of students with ADHD. It is like reading a report about my life that just says over and over "My experiences are real. My hardships are real. I am not lazy, I am not dumb. My struggles were not my fault, and they were not a moral failing. The failure was with the system, not with me."

Here's a line that got me in particular:

"Hotez et al.(2022) compared the health, academic, and non-academic capacities of a nationally representative sample of U.S. first-year college students with ADHD and without ADHD. Students with ADHD self-reported lower academic aspirations and more feelings of depression and overwhelm, ranking themselves lower in their general emotional health. The fact that students with ADHD scored in the highest 10th percentile for many non-academic traits, such as artistic ability, computer skills, creativity, public speaking, social confidence, self-understanding and understanding of others, compassion, and risk-tasking, suggests that this population has strengths that are frequently underappreciated in academia."

(the paper is a thesis called "Understanding the Collegiate Experience for Students With ADHD" by Gia Long, 2022)

[feketeribizli]

marci masterpost 🫡 my beloved formula one guy

[endursent]

Hi Ma’am! I’ve recently come across your “my partner turned into a cat” series and it’s wonderful. I was wondering if I could request something similar where reader turns into their partner’s favourite animal? Preferably with Kaveh, Neuvi, and Dottore (if you write for him). If not, that’s all good. Have a nice day!

【 content; established relationship , humour , gn!reader , temporarily turned animal (reader) 】

【 characters; il dottore, kaveh , neuvillette 】

【 note; i haven't actually written for dottore before strangely enough considering how much i love him, so it might take a while for me to get his personality and mannerisms down... thank you for the ask! 】

【 word count; 1.454 | masterlist 】

Il Dottore;

Never had you considered what his “favourite animal” is, mostly because you’re convinced Dottore doesn’t have a “favourite” anything—his interests are too unpredictable and subject to change at any moment. 

  Though you should have seen it coming that one day, his experimentation would strike you—thankfully you’re not dead, you’re luckier than some assistants that have been zapped a time or two and carried out in body bags. However…

  Why are you a fat little platypus, and why does he seem so excited about it?

  You look absolutely ridiculous, you imagine—and feel, having four legs and a beak is peak body horror that is unfortunately eating at your brain right now. And yet, Dottore picks you up like one would a cat and dangles you in front of him with both an excited and thoughtful expression. “How unexpected—and interesting. I made little change to the formula…” he plops you down on the table next to the damned formula he had been adjusting… never will you inhale “experiment fumes” again. Not that you’re supposed to be doing so in any case.

  “A fascinating specimen indeed,” he pokes around your fur and you shake yourself, but he is relentless with his prodding! “One of the few mammals capable of electroreception! I wonder if you've maintained those sensory capabilities... This requires immediate testing."

  He doesn’t leave you alone for a single second that you’re like this, always either checking something—one time you were freaking out about the fact that you had no idea how to eat or drink like this… and Dottore took out a notebook and tried to get you to bite his fingers to “test the venom”... you bite a bit harder than he likely bargained for. 

  Dottore does try to “help” in his own way, while he brainstorms how to turn you back, he creates a “suitable habitat” with burrowing zones and a “pool”. He means well, but he’s also using it to observe you like a specimen so you kick up dirt and splash water on the floor and tables in spite.

  Out of anyone, Dottore is the fastest to get you back to normal… or he could, if he wanted to. But he kind of likes seeing you waddle around trying to walk with webbed feet and seeing you knock your tail into things and make weird noises. He has plenty of experience pressing your buttons and what makes you tick as a human, why not enjoy a new side of you?

Kaveh;

He’s more traumatised than you are when one moment you’re standing next to him—and the next there’s a random ass deer there. He looks around and searches for you frantically, thinking you might have fallen into a creek or rolled downhill… very unaware of that same deer following him around and trying to get his attention. 

  He does love deer, he thinks you’re unimaginably cute but also kind of silly in the way horses are silly but not huge and terrifying. 

  Kaveh almost needs you to headbutt him for him to realise that you are, in fact, in front of him and not soaking around in a nearby river hanging out with the frogs. Thankfully, he’s smart enough to put two and two together after he snaps out of it—but now he’s just confused.

  How? You had just been right there! There wasn’t even a rustle of leaves or anything!

  In any case, he needs to get you back to the city… you walk like a human in a deer suit, unused to the long four legs and strange join positions—and as soon as you enter his and Alhaitham’s home (after getting your antlers caught in the door like an idiot if you have those) you suddenly stop. 

  “What is it?” Kaveh peeps from behind you, confused as to why your ass is just standing in the doorway.

  The house has hardwood floors.

  He doesn’t realise this, of course, and gives your behind a firm push—only for you to slip and slide and nearly tumble inside like a freshly born animal. Kaveh rushes in behind you, apologising for nearly knocking you over and trying to make sure you don’t fall against anything and break things… Alhaitham would never let him live it down if he saw this.

  It’s not exactly easy to… navigate this, you’re not a small animal nor are you yourself particularly knowledgeable about your new proportions. 

  He can barely stop himself from continuously stroking your fur and feeding you crunchy things to be able to watch you munch on them. It does kind of kill the fascination he had with deer, as he’s never really interacted with them so closely until you happened to become one.

  You follow him around like a lost puppy, even as he had a very important client meeting—you didn’t let him get away… and thus, Kaveh had to improvise a bit. 

  The client, an older woman, squints at you standing slightly behind Kaveh and trying to munch on the blueprints in his hands (you haven’t had food for two hours, which is disastrous with this huge stomach you have now). 

  Kaveh clears his throat, pushing your snout away. “Yes, we can change the—no, you see, this is… yes, it’s okay, this is just… a friend.”

  He has no idea how to explain this so he just chooses not to. “Anyway… about that garden idea, if we put a patio by this side—”

Neuvillette;

You can’t believe he’s keeping you in a bowl. 

  Somehow, and for some reason, when you had accompanied Neuvillette for an evening walk along the seaside just outside of Fontaine’s walls—you had stubbed your toe on a shell that stuck out of the ground, and with a sudden zap… you had turned into a blob.

  Neuvillette looks up from his desk as he hears your soft body pound against the bowl next to him—and toss up some water that almost splashes onto the documents splayed out before him—and frowns slightly. “I know it’s not very spacious… I apologise, my love. But I don’t have anything larger at this moment, hopefully the pet store will find a more adequately sized fish tank soon.”

  He doesn’t understand how you had suddenly turned into a jellyfish, you had been behind him for a brief moment before he heard your curse (likely because you stubbed your toe) and then a poof… when Neuvillette had turned around, you were like a deflated balloon on dry land. 

  Thankfully he had created a pocket of water for you from the saltwater nearby to float in as he brought you back to the city, but the situation puzzled him greatly—how could you become such a creature? He wasn’t entirely sure you were fully conscious in that body, but judging by your frustrated movements in the small bowl, he suspected you at least had partial awareness. 

  Neuvillette doesn’t want to leave you alone while you’re like this, he’s both worried you might suddenly transform back, without any clothes—which would be terribly awkward to try and depart his office in that state—or possible hurt yourself if you broke the bowl with the transformation and cut yourself.

  Thus, thankfully after you’re given a larger tank in his office (and at home, he’s not leaving you at his office overnight alone!) there is a smaller one placed in the Opera Epiclese, next to his chair. 

  During a court proceeding, Neuvillette had to present the evidence in a firmer manner than usual, as the representative to the one being judged was being rather contrarian—which was far from productive and consumed far more time than it needed to. 

  Every time he successfully made an argument that couldn’t be refuted or argued with, you released a faint bioluminescent glow—as if applauding his expert navigations of the evidence and arguments. No one seems to notice (it’s difficult enough to see Neuvillette so high up above the stage) but he still feels a bit sheepish when you do it—you’re likely not doing it on purpose, he doubts you would know how.

  Neuvillette is very careful with the temperature and the salinity levels of the water you inhabit for the time being, he creates a careful schedule to check it every few hours as well as adjusting it depending on day and night. He’s very determined to ensure you’re as comfortable as you can be, whether you realise you’re a weird blob with tentacles or not. 

  And he hopes he can figure out how to change you back soon… as cute as it is to watch you twirl around and show off when he stands before your tank, he would rather you show off your moves as yourself—where he can properly talk to and touch you. 

[dragonbabes]

I'm okay, thanks for asking, I was just thinking about this codex entry

then got carried away about how a romanced Lucanis and Viago would meet to discuss just how many enemies Rook made the day they scrambled the Antaam's plans like an egg and the two assassin's would scheme together; how to keep Rook safe once the blight and newly-resurrected-elven-gods contract is complete (because we all know that if they're still cringing over Zevran, they're still foaming at the mouth over Rook) and they both get to the point that they're like "death, death is good" and start to plot the demise of everyone that simply looks at Rook wrong.

How Viago might start making a little more poison than he usually does. How Lucanis would be very interested in what Bellara knows about masking flavors; how he would absolutely bring Bellara to one of their meetings. And Bellara would only ask why they wanted to know once, before offering her services to them any time they needed.

Idk it's just kinda cute, makes me kick my feet a lil. Like they would murder for Rook <3

[loves-alibi]

changes

or: you married a butcher, not a martyr.

MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of torture, reader is hashtag depressed, mentions of death (assumed death), simon is a weirdo at the end <3

*****

He’s a butcher, an apprentice actually. Every Monday through Saturday, regulars flock to the shop, where Simon, the gentle giant behind the counter, takes their order with a smile. Kids love him, always excited to see the man who tells droll jokes when their mothers, who are more interested in the way he winks at them after throwing in an extra quarter of a pound of meat, aren’t listening.

Simon is the talk of the block. Every nosy soul wants to know his deal. It’s not like he came out of nowhere. Simon was born and raised on the streets of Manchester, but there’s an intrigue about the young man that was never tapped into until he took up working at that shop, chopping and slicing up people’s dinners while asking 'how's the family?’.

So it’s no surprise when one day an old lady, a regular at the establishment, asks Simon, elbow-deep in raw lamb, if he’s single.

After breaking the news that he wouldn’t like to make a habit of dating customers, she explains that her granddaughter (“She’s about your age and– you’ll see –she’s the prettiest girl in all of England.”) is in town.

Before he even thinks, the woman scribbles on her receipt for three lamb chops an address and 8pm.

Eight hours later he stands outside of her house, a bouquet of flowers in hand and the receipt folded neatly in his back pocket. Before he has the chance to ring the bell, the door flies open, bombarding Simon with the scent of roasting meat and floral perfume. Standing barely at his chest height is the woman from the shop. She calls a name, and round the corner comes her granddaughter.

Simon almost drops the bouquet in his hands. Your grandmother really didn’t lie about how lovely you are. Even as you abscond her (“You didn’t tell me he was actually coming tonight!”) Simon can’t stop staring at you.

Dinner goes by as awkwardly as you could have expected. Your grandmother sits at the head of the table, you and Simon at opposite sides, kicking each other awkwardly each time either of you crossed or uncrossed your legs. She prompts you two with conversation starters.

Darling, tell him about your job.

Simon, I hear you have a brother.

It’s like pulling teeth. The whole night Simon is kicking himself for not meeting you elsewhere, where he could make a real and good impression without watching eyes. It’s over, he thinks when you finally pull the plug on the evening, dismissing Simon with the excuse that you have to work early the next morning. It’s a shame, he really thought that, despite everything, you two had a connection. There were enough fleeting glances and shy smiles from you for Simon to really believe.

You at least have the decency to walk him to the door, thanking him for entertaining your grandmother and for being such polite company. And, with a glance over your shoulder confirming that the coast is clear, you pull Simon in by the lapels for a kiss, it’s chaste and quick, but has Simon’s chest heaving up and down.

“There’s a pub down the street, you know it?” You ask. Simon nods his head dumbly, his lips still tingling. “She goes to sleep early. Meet me there in an hour, yeah?”

He practically skips to the pub. He orders two pints and waits and why did he order you a pint? It'll be warm by the time you get here and he doesn’t even know if you like beer. This was such a bad idea, you’re probably not even going to–

Fifty-two minutes later you walk through the door, chest heaving and hair tousled. You ran. You really ran to see him.

As you down your pint, he sends a silent thank you to whoever answered his prayers because– wow –you’re here and even more beautiful than he could imagine, with a bead of beer slipping out of the corner of your mouth and dripping down your neck.

The next morning, you two wake up naked in Simon’s bed with headaches and a ring on your finger– his nan’s ring to be precise, the one she explicitly told him to give only to the girl. There’s a voice in the back of his head that says he should be mad to have given it away in a drunken stupor to some girl he just met. But then you laugh, saying, “I’m engaged.” And he laughs with you, a sinking feeling telling him that drunk Simon may have gotten it right.

Simon watches you observe the ring glitter in the morning sun. “Do you want to be?”

You scrunch your nose at the question. “Depends,” you say, dragging out the final ‘s’. Simon blanches. “What’s your last name?” You ask, scrutinizing him.

Simon loses his breath as he stares into your eyes. You’re laying naked, halfway on top of him, and yet it’s the way you look at him that makes his world tilt. He barely manages to stutter out, “R–Riley. Simon Riley.”

“Riley… Mrs. Riley.” Your features soften. “Yeah, I think I want to be.”

In three months, you’re married. It’s a real, proper wedding with both sides of the family there. Simon washes the sinew and blood from his hands and gets all dressed up. He’d pick his bloody apron over a suit any day, but the smile on your face when you see him down the aisle is enough to make getting all dolled up worth it.

Your grandmother dies a happy woman shortly after your wedding. She leaves you the house and well wishes for your future (and with the request to name her future great-grandchildren after her).

Marriage suits Simon. He leaves you for work each morning before the sun is up. You wake hours later to a cold bed yet a warm cup of coffee in the kitchen. He comes home at five o’clock on the dot with a pound of meat cut and ready to cook, which he does. It fills some caveman-basal part of him– the ability to provide for his wife, melting away his worries every time you sigh in delight at the taste of the meal he oh so lovingly set out for you.

Three days after your first anniversary, Simon comes home with a pamphlet. Her Royal Majesty's Armed Service. You laugh, tell him there’s no way he wants to enlist. He almost believes you, sounding so sure in your words. Maybe he is being ridiculous, but then he turns on the news and sees the chaos of the world and realizes that chopping meat wasn’t all he was meant for.

He sits you down again. This time you don’t laugh.

“You will not make me a widow, you understand?”

“Of course not.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, love.”

He enlists, joins the infantry, and you wonder if you made a mistake marrying that man. Then 30 weeks later, he comes back and you almost forget the heartache until he’s standing right in front of you, this time without a pound of meat and the smell of blood clinging to his skin.

He fucks you. You fuck him. It’s only natural after so long. He’s missed you. You’ve missed him. And you have plenty of frustration to get out.

It’s when you’re laying in bed, fingers trailing his abs– yes, abs, born out of the weeks of grueling work– that it strikes you how much this means for you. You squeeze what used to be the loving layer of pudge that circled his waist.

“You like it?” he asks, his smirk pressing against your head.

But the energy to lie doesn’t exist in you. You tell him no, that you miss the Simon that walked out of your door thirty weeks ago, that– sure –abs are nice but you liked the Simon with a little fat, that you didn’t want him to do this, that you didn’t want to have to waste away, alone and worrying about him.

Yelling ensues. You cry. Simon cries. You sleep in the guest room. Simon sleeps on the couch.

He’s a good soldier, you learn. Not from him of course, Simon’s too humble to brag about his achievements like that (plus, he’s afraid that his growing accolades would just remind you how you never wanted to marry a decorated soldier, you wanted to marry him). You always come to base to pick him up from deployments. Soldiers give you respectful nods and tell you how good of a sergeant your husband is.

You and Simon had a distinct separation between work and life. As soon as your car is through the base gates, not a word is spoken of his deployments. It always gets you in too much of a fit. So it was agreed upon: you didn’t have to hear about it.

Until one day, work shows up to your front door step. Simon’s on a deployment, and you’re finally unwinding after a long day of your own. As you begin to pour a glass of wine, there’s a clinical knock on the door.

Two men in uniform are on your porch. They hold their hats in their hands, as with solemn voices they try to explain it all to you. It’s strange– you don’t cry. They ask if you need anything and you simply say no. After all, what could they give you– Simon? You have a chuckle at that after you finally send the soldiers off.

You continue your normal routine: finish that second glass of wine, tidy up the house, and cook dinner. You burn your thumb on the cast iron pot. With your finger in your mouth to soothe the burn, you think to dial your grandmother’s number. If anybody needs to know about Simon, it’s her. Except, when you dial her number all you get is a robotic voice explaining that the number you are trying to reach is not available.

Oh, you realize, that’s right– nan’s dead!

You lose it on the kitchen floor. Your sobs are so loud, the neighbors come to check on you. They find you right there on the kitchen floor, dinner burning on the stove, and paperwork from the army on the counter.

People treat you like a widow after that. You don’t consider yourself one. It just doesn’t feel right. He left without a goodbye, and now you’re supposed to accept that he’s gone?

You’re a celebrity around town– poor Simon’s widow. You quit your job, the widow’s pension being enough to get you by for now. Simon’s old boss starts giving you cuts for free– not even the shitty ones. You get filet mignons from him, aged wines from neighbors, extra pastries from the bakery, and pitying stares from strangers.

In three years you went from a complete stranger to Simon Riley’s widow. Three years and that man tore your life apart. The six month mark is approaching. It’s funny, really. That’s twice the time it took for you two to get hitched.

There isn’t even a body to bury, only a plain gravestone with his name and dates. You don’t visit it. There’s no point. What’s there to mourn? Instead you dig a hole in your back garden. It isn’t very deep, and the garden’s long dead. You don’t dare touch the shovel, it had been Simon’s– used when you needed a hole dug for flowers or bushes. Instead the hole is dug with your bare hands, like a dog searching for something.

In the pathetic pit in that dead garden, you put your ring– the one Simon gave you, that his nan gave him –wrapped in his apron.

The backyard burial doesn’t make you feel better. It just puts dirt under your nails that won’t wash away no matter how hard you scrub at it.

You consider selling the house. That leads to another breakdown. You were supposed to raise your kids there– Simon’s kids. Nan wanted you and Simon to have that house. Now nan’s gone. Simon’s gone. But for some reason you’re left to wander the ruins.

Six months finally comes. People stopped giving you free shit by month three. It’s not like you ever wanted their gifts. It’d come to you with a smile and some bullshit about how we get it or we’re here for you. You laugh at the notion when you wake up on the six month anniversary of your fucking husband’s death alone and…

It’s not the anniversary. Not the real one, at least. It’s only been six months since those men showed up at your door, like the grim reaper dressed up for Queen Elizabeth. He had to have died some time before then.

You don’t even know when your husband died.

It has to be on the paperwork they gave you. Six months after however many days since your husband’s death, you tear apart your house. Every drawer is pulled out, every cabinet yanked open in the hopes that you can find the paperwork that has Simon RIley’s death date.

Not on the pension form.

Not on the letter from the crown.

Not on the invitation to the fucking widow’s club.

When the hell did he die?

You fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, surrounded by every piece of paperwork you could locate. It’s still dark when you wake up, mind clouded with exhaustion. You almost fall back asleep right there on the floor, but when you let your head fall back down on the hardwood, you feel rhythmic vibrations travel through the wood to your cheek. Footsteps.

“Love?”

Only one man has ever called you that.

It’s like you lose the ability to speak. Any thought you could have dies on your tongue as two familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you into a lap. He holds you on the floor, lets you cry it out until the sun comes up.

The first words to come out of your mouth: “You said you wouldn’t make me a widow.”

He holds you tighter, “And I didn’t.”

Simon doesn’t tell you what happened. All you know is that he had been taken, tortured, and somehow rescued. 

He looks different. He’s gots lots of scars now. They bother him, he covers up in long shirts and pants more often than not, no matter how much you tell him he doesn’t need to. He says that he doesn’t want to worry you with them.

It’s not the scars that worry you. Simon’s different. Whatever happened to him back there had made him needy. He doesn’t let you out of his sight. At night, you’re adhered to his side by an impossibly strong grip. He whispers in his sleep, don’t leave me, as though you could possibly escape his iron grip. Maybe needy isn’t the right word. Obsessive, more like.

He digs the ring up just like you did– all bare hands and fury. You don’t know how he found it– you never told him. You just wake up one morning to him pawing furiously at the ground. He pulls it out and presents it to you like a cat with a dead mouse. He puts the ring on your finger before even rinsing the dirt off.

In bed he consumes you. Where once sex was fun and playful, it now is a ritual, like Simon is claiming you. It’s enjoyable, yes, but overwhelming. You don’t think he blinks anymore. It’s like he’s worried you’re going to be ripped away from him, like every time is the last time.

Two months after he comes home, papers arrive for him in the mail. He’s being deployed again. You’re worried. It’s too soon. You can’t lose him again, and you tell him as much.

Simon placates your worries with a kiss on the head. As he pulls you into a hug, he utters, “Love, I crawled out of the grave for you once. You best bet I’ll do it again.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s lying.

[hannieehaee]

hello i love your works! could i please request svt with a shy crush? like how would they interact with them or something (especially the more shyer members) bc their crush is even shyer and probably won’t be the one initiating the confession (unfortunately). thanks!

their crush being shy

content: crushes, introvertedness, crushes, pure fluff, etc.

wc: 872

a/n: i wrote way more for some than others this time it was purely accidental lol but i hope u enjoy!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's not usually super shy but you'd kind of be an exception to the rule. would become super giggly and flustered and shy whenever he was around you, creating a mixture of incomplete sentences and stolen glances any time you were around each other. however, he'd sometimes have moments of truth in which he'd be able to flirt with you or make his interest clear.

jeonghan -

he'd find you super cute and adorable. would even get cuteness aggression over you lol. wont put you out of your misery, though. he'll tease you and take advantage of your crush to fluster you. eventually he'll make a move, but he'll have fun with it for a while.

joshua -

similarly to jeonghan, he'll think it's super cute you like him but are too shy to do anything about it. he'll coo at you to your face, chuckling under his breath any time you got flustered at him. would plan on putting you out of your misery and confessing at some point, but would enjoy your crush far too much to do it right away lol.

jun -

i am a shy!jun truther, so i think he'd be extra shy when it comes to someone he likes. he'd be aware that you're just as shy (if not even more), though, so he'd have to work within himself to get the balls to actually try and approach you and ask you out. likely it'd get to a point where you'd just be two people avoiding eye contact to the point where someone else has to intervene.

soonyoung -

he might seem outgoing but im convinced when it comes to things like these, he'll be very shy. he'll know about your crush but he'll be too terrified that his crush is super obvious to do anything about it. it'll just be an endless cycle of the two of you blushing any time you make eye contact.

wonwoo -

contrary to popular belief i think he's got crazy game and wont be shy around someone he's interested in. he'll probably get a little extra confidence at knowing you liked him, maybe even making a few slightly flirtatious comments or attempting to be in your vicinity in order to get you to get flustered.

jihoon -

he'd kind of be at a loss. if you're shy, and he's shy .. then who's driving the bus?? would not really know how to approach you despite being pretty sure the feelings were mutual. his friends would have to gas him up, making it so that he was left alone with you quite often in order to force proximity between you so one of you would FINALLY confess.

seokmin -

would be incredibly endeared by you (even more than he was before realizing you liked him back). he wouldnt confess right away though. no, he'd wanna enjoy your flustered state any time he paid you extra attention or how you'd shyly look away when he'd smile at you.

mingyu -

similarly to seokmin, he'd mostly want to enjoy the reactions he'd get out of you any time he was nearby or any time he flirted with you. would love your shyness, thinking it creates a great contrast to his insane outgoing tendencies (he'd befriend a tree if it could talk). would try and make it obvious he likes you back but wouldnt confess straight away, enjoying the between friends and lovers stage.

minghao -

would be incredibly endeared by you!!! would even get some cuteness aggression from how flustered you'd be any time he looked your way, looking away or blushing at him. he'd wanna sort of court you?? would do a slow process of gaining your affections (even though he knew he already had), eventually asking you out. he'd be super romantic about it, taking into consideration how shy you were and not going too far with it to ensure he didn't scare you away.

seungkwan -

i don't think he'd even realize you were shy or that you liked him at first. he's so outgoing and so friendly with everyone that sometimes he doesnt notice that others may not be as outgoing as him!! he'd probably rush it and ask you out as soon as he realized his crush was mutual though lmao. he'd unknowingly intimidate you with his outgoing demeanor but it'd be endearing overall!!

vernon -

would probably not even be aware that you liked him. sometimes things can go over his head if they're not explicitly stated, so the fact that you're shy and unable to confess to him would make the whole situation difficult lmao. however! if he knew you liked him, he'd wanna be calm about it. would not play games and instead just ask you out, generally just happy his feelings were mutual.

chan -

he'd be in constant agony knowing you liked him and there was nothing he could do about it ... lol but really, i think he'd hesitate in approaching you out of fear of scaring you away or coming off to strong. he's pretty outgoing and self-assured, so he'd feel confident in you liking him back. however! he'd feel kinda guilty by how much he made you blush and stutter and look away when he tried being flirty with you lmao.

[trustmypoison]

SVT with a low-maintenance partner

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hieee, can you please do a seventeen reaction to this significant other being low maintenance? Thank you ❤️❤️’

Drives him crazy!! - Seungcheol, Woozi, Seungkwan

Sometimes, he grabs you by the shoulders and begs, ‘Please let me spoil you!!’ It drives him nuts that you want for so little, and when you do, it’s usually practical things. Let him buy you jewelry, or designer clothes, or a new bag, or a car, or, or, or. He respects that you’re not materialistic, really. He even admires it. But he wants you to know you never have to want for anything. So trust that the moment you mention that you like something, it’s showing up the next day. Like, you could say, ‘Maybe I should get my nails done,’ and he’s booked an appointment and paid ahead of time. 

Doesn’t mind it - Jeonghan, Joshua, DK, Minghao, Chan

Doesn’t have strong feelings about it either way. Would he like to get you nice things sometime? Of course! Would he just get some things now and then just because? Of course! But if you really have no interest in something, that’s okay with him, too. Like, if you’re into thrifting or things like that, he’s supporting that just as much as the occasional designer purchase. He just likes to get you things you like, and there are really no wrong answers. 

Sort of lives for it - Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon

Sort of loves that you find a lot of the high-maintenance things superfluous. I kind of get the impression that these guys tolerate things like that because of the requirements of their career and ambassadorships that they’re asked to do, but it wouldn’t always be their preference if it were up to them. So he goes to thrift shops and second-hand stores with you, and if he sees something that you might like, cost (especially if it’s cheap) means nothing to him. But, best believe that if you showed any interest in something more expensive, he’d have his credit card ready saying ‘Okay, baby.’ 

[alotofpockets]

Fun facts | Grace Clinton x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Do you ever run out of fun facts?”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. For the past hour you had been debating your outfit, switching between a top every five minutes. But, the knock on your door meant that Grace was here to pick you up for your first date, so the top you were currently wearing had to be the one.

You quickly make your way to the door, not wanting to leave her waiting for too long. When you opened it, Grace’s face lit up. “You look amazing.” You feel your cheeks flushing, already by even such a small compliment. “Thank you, so do you.”

Grace moved into your apartment building a few weeks ago. The thick Liverpool accent had caught your attention instantly when you were making your way downstairs. None of the neighbours that you knew had that accent, so your curiosity was instantly triggered.

What you hadn’t expected to find around the corner was the contents of a moving box scattered over the hallway floor. “A single cardboard box can be reused 5 to 7 times before it starts to break down and lose its strength, yet here I am on my first use with my stuff scattered all across the hall.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected commentary as you stepped around the corner. “I think you might’ve gotten the one box that has a vendetta against moving. Clearly it wasn’t cut out for this life.”

The girl looked up, startled but amused. “Ah, so it is the box’s fault, is it? Not my fault for not using proper packing rules, and putting more weight in it than you’re supposed to?”

Within ten seconds of meeting this stranger, you already loved her humour. You crouched down to help her pick up the scattered items. “I mean, who am I to argue with a moving box expert?”

She laughed at your joke, the sound of her laughter like music to your ears. Never had you imagined you’d be able to fall for a stranger so quickly. The way she so effortlessly joked around with you, made you want to get to know her better.

“Oh, I’m full of fascinating facts about boxes, and well just random facts in general. Stick around long enough, and you’ll learn loads!” She stood with her hands now filled with her items.

“Well, if this is how you introduce yourself to your new neighbours, I am definitely interested in sticking around for more. I’m y/n, by the way. Your neighbour who now knows more about moving boxes than she ever planned to.”

The girl chuckled. “Grace, the neighbour who might’ve just exposed her weirdest talent way too early.” With a smile and a shake of your head you say, “I think it’s cute.” You noticed the light flush of her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away from you. “What floor are you on? I’ll help carry your stuff up.”

Since that day the two of you have been chatting every day, whether it was face to face or over text, the two of you were connecting. It was instantly clear to the both of you that it wasn’t just a neighbourly or even just friendly connection, and you wanted to explore it more. 

So, Grace asked you out on a date and now here she is standing in front of your door. All your nerves faded away as you walked down together, and she started talking.

“Did you know that dates involving outdoor activities create stronger connections?” If you had learned one thing over the past few weeks is that Grace had a fun fact on just about every topic. “I didn’t, but it makes sense if you think about it.”

She agreed, “It’s why I wanted to grab some coffee to go and walk through the park on our way to what I have planned.”

“That sounds lovely, and also very adorable, telling me you want to have a stronger connection with me.” You smiled at her as you walked out of the apartment building.

Grace paid for your coffee, even if you told her that wasn’t fair because she was already paying for the rest of the date. “You can get them next time.”

“Oh, you already know that there will be a next time?” You said with an amused smile. “Around 66% of people say that they know within the first thirty minutes if they’re interested in a second date.”

You chuckled, of course she had a fun fact for that too. “Thirty minutes sounds doable for getting the vibe of a person, but Grace we’ve been out for like five minutes.” She smiles and shrugs, “I already knew before I knocked on your door.”

Gosh she was a smooth talker. “I think I may need the remaining twenty five minutes to decide.” You joked back, and the glint in her eyes was enough to make you cave in. “Fine, you got me. I was already thinking of what I could plan for our next date before you knocked on my door as well.”

You continued on your walk, sipping on your coffee, and talking with Grace. If you had only done this for the duration of the date, you would already have considered it a good date. Grace had more planned though, as she led you into town and you stopped in front of one of the buildings.

“Are we going to make pottery?” You asked as you took in the shop’s window. “Close, but no. We’re painting pottery.” Her smile grew when she saw the excitement on your face.

Once you were inside and you were all settled in at one of the tables, surrounded by a bunch of different pottery dishes, paints and brushes, Grace started speaking excitedly about pottery. “Did you know that pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, with the earliest known pieces dating back over 20,000 years?”

With a shake of your head you say, “Wow, that is so long. Isn’t it cool how some things stick around for so long?” She nodded, “Yeah, I love it.”

You decided on a mug for your first pottery piece, while Grace went for a bowl. You thought for a moment on what you wanted to paint on the mug, deciding on some tulips. After dipping your paint brush into the green paint, you fill the mug with the stems and leaves, leaving room to add the flowers in different colours.

“Did you know in the 17th century, tulips were so valuable in Holland that they were used as a currency?” At this point you weren’t even surprised by Grace’s random knowledge on all topics anymore. “That’s crazy, imagine getting coffee somewhere and just paying with tulips.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird to think about, right? They even named the period Tulip Mania.” With the new knowledge about tulips, you fill the already painted stems with red, orange, and pink tulip flowers. 

When you looked over to Grace’s bowl, she had filled the outside with small watermelon pieces, and she was now working on painting the inside of the bowl like the inside of a watermelon. 

“Yours looks so cool!” You say in awe. “Thank you! I love it, and yours too. Did you know that watermelons belong to the cucumber family? Technically they are classified as both a fruit and a vegetable!”

“Do you ever run out of fun facts?” You say with a soft chuckle. Amazed at her excitement over the classification of a watermelon.

“Oh, is it too much? I can stop.” She says taken back. You’re quick to reach out your hand and place it over hers. “Please never stop, I love it.” Her smile grew again. “Yeah?” You nod, “It’s so cool that you have all this random knowledge, and I love that you want to share it with me.”

The rest of the date was amazing, and like you had already said at the beginning of the date, a second date was definitely happening, and you couldn’t wait to plan something for her.

-----

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[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

i really need a fic of this bad and i am not a good writer at alllll. okay just imagine with me real quick. also this is completely imaginative don’t come for me lol

!jealous joe !bengals fan bf !cheating

your boyfriend is a really big bengals fan. i mean has so much bengals memorabilia, friends and family love the bengals. he even grew up in the good old land of chili cheese coneys and graeters ice cream. well you never really were into football. it was kinda boring, kinda long, and could have your boyfriend in a sucky mood the whole day.

until…

you saw him.

joe burrow. he’s gorgeous, humble, and is so passionate about the game and his team. you were obsessed. so when your boyfriend one day invited you to an event where you may be able to meet him and have him sign something, you said yes.

you didn’t really have bengals merchandise at the time, so you borrowed your boyfriend’s bengals hat and scarf, and just wore a black outfit to match. you were standing at the fence, waiting for the team to come out to practice. you felt kinda antsy. you really hoped you would be able to meet joe. all of a sudden him and his team came out and everyone started screaming to get his attention. joe was signing jerseys and footballs. it was all a bit overwhelming. he got to you and your boyfriend, and did a double take a bit. your boyfriend was asking him to sign his poster, which he did, and you took out a little notebook. he smiled and looked you in the eye. your boyfriend didn’t notice this as he was already facetiming his friends about his interaction. joe didn’t give you his regular signature, but rather, wrote his name legibly and his phone number right underneath.

your eyes went wide. he laughed and headed to practice.

you went home and laid in bed. it was about 9 pm and you were still staring at the number. you decided not to tell anyone, as you didn’t want joe’s privacy to feel invaded. you put the number into your phone and texted him.

“hi. is this joe burrow? i am y/n. we met earlier today at your practice”.

he immediately texted back, you kinda freaked out.

“hey this is joe. it was nice to meet you earlier, y/n. your bengals hat was cute”.

you screamed into your pillow. you texted back.

“thank you! it wasn’t mine cause im just kind of getting into football haha”. you cringed at yourself, not really knowing how to respond.

“well, maybe i can teach you a few things sometime. maybe you can come to my house?”.

flash forward a few weeks later, you’re in joe burrow’s lap, with an oversized bengals jersey on and no pants, in his huge living room.

he’s kissing your neck and squeezing your ass, as he rocks you back and forth on his underwear clad dick. your phone is ringing on the coffee table. it’s your boyfriend.

“joe-“ you tried to say, but he’s trying to distract you with his tongue on your neck.

“joey!” you say exasperated. he pulls back and halts his movement.

“i gotta take this phone call”. he furrows his brows and looks to the side.

“you don’t even like him!” he responds, aggravated.

“i know, but i want to give him the news in a way where he won’t throw a fit. it’s not the right time” you respond.

here’s the thing about joe. he really likes you. ever since he gave you his number, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. he liked how interested you were in learning about him, whether it was about his football career, or who he was as a person. he didn’t care that you had a boyfriend, because he knew he wanted you.

but joe is a jealous guy. there’s only so much he can put up with. i mean, you’re sitting there in his lap, wearing HIS jersey. you have HIS hickeys on your neck, and your wetness is on his underwear. he’s not gonna put up with it anymore.

you’re on the phone saying hello as he pushes your back onto the couch. you had been making out for hours so you were fully ready for what was about to happen. your eyes grow wide at him as he takes your underwear off and pushes your knees to your shoulders. you’re so wet he audibly grunts.

“where are you at?” your boyfriend asks.

joe’s mouth is so close to your pussy it’s kinda hard to make up a lie.

“the grocery store?” you reply like you didn’t believe it yourself.

“oh okay cool”. he brushes it off. nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him as he only really wanted to rant to you about how the season is going so far with the bengals.

you let out a sigh and before you know it joe was sucking on your clit. you cover your mouth trying to avoid moaning on the phone, but joe removes your hand and holds it by your side. he’s licking long stripes up your hole to your clit, making you want to scream.

as good and toe curling joe’s mouth is, you’re able to keep some composure to keep the phone call normal. he’s still talking with no chance of stopping soon. you roll your eyes at the conversation and then see joe taking his underwear off. you can’t help but ogle. he’s longer than average and so so girthy. he always has to go slow putting it in so that you don’t go insane.

well he thinks you’re ready to go a little faster, and he’s desperate to be all the way in you.

your knees are still to your shoulders as he sticks his tip in. you bite your bottom lip hard as to not let out your moans. everything is fine.

until he puts himself all the way in in one swift motion, bottoming out in you. a moan escapes you.

“fuck you’re so tight” joe moans out.

your boyfriend catches on.

“what was that? are you at a guy’s house?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before joe is pounding into you hard and fast. his face is right above yours, and all you can do is moan. you drop the phone, not even caring because all you want is for joe to fuck you dumb.

“p-please daddy”. you have tears pricking the corners of your eyes. you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you just want him to keep fucking you.

“you like that baby? are you gonna cum on daddy’s dick?” he can feel you pulsating on his cock. he keeps hitting your g-spot.

“yes daddy i’m gonna cum” you grab the back of his head and he kisses you sloppily. you unravel beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he continues using you, chasing his own high.

he’s grunting. mumbling how good you feel.

“please cum in me daddy”. you start to feel yourself wanting to unravel again. he fucks you with deep long strokes, until finally he cums deep inside of you, letting out a long moan. you cum again too, tears streaking your face. he kisses you again. foreheads to each other, all you can hear is each others breathing. smiling at each other, until you hear something coming from the phone on the floor:

“WHAT THE FUCK”.

[witherby]

I really want to see Littlest Wayne having more interactions with the justice league, especially Hal! That bit of him getting emotional after the baby says his name was adorable 😭

You don't have to tell me twice. Get ready to get a lot of uncles and aunts 🤭 featuring more Bruce x Hal because I'm shameless

Slightly spoilerly warning: ⚠️ Emetophobia ⚠️

The Littlest Wayne: Meet the Team

Masterlist is Here!

"Oh! No. No, I don't — I'm good, actually. No thanks."

Clark gives Hal a curious look, but doesn't try to pass you over to him after that initial rejection. He smiles down at you and goes back to gently tracing the tip of his finger up and down the bridge of your nose. Your eyes droop almost immediately, then you're asleep a minute later.

"They're beautiful, Bruce," Diana says, clapping a hand against his back. Bruce, to his credit, barely stumbles.

"No names in costume," he says.

"You literally brought us your infant child to coo at," Barry chimes in, cracking open a bag of chips. "They're in a Cookie Monster onesie. I think we can let it slide just the once."

"Hnn," Bruce mutters. He lets the edges of his cape fall over his chest, cloaking his limbs and torso until he looks like one, solid shape. "Only the once."

Barry grins, zipping past him to stand in front of Clark and gush over your snoozing form. Oliver held you for a minute when Bruce first showed up to introduce you to the team, then Dinah stole you from him and peppered kisses all over your face until you were squealing with laughter. J'onn carefully held you how he was instructed and told everyone you were thinking about how colorful they each looked. Arthur jokingly asked if Bruce wanted him to baptize you. Arthur swiftly lost his baby privileges. Then Diana held you kind of like someone weighing a ham, nodded once, called you "phenomenal," and handed you off to Clark, where you currently remain.

It was a little curious to see Hal so vehemently refuse to hold you when, as far as Bruce can see, he hasn't taken his eyes off you the whole time you've been in the Watchtower. Even more curiously, before Clark did that little nose trick to get you to sleep, you'd been staring right back at him.

Bruce could go Full Investigation Mode on this, but he understands that it might be a bit much to do to someone he's only been seeing for, like, ten weeks. They haven't even talked about labels yet.

So he does a small guilt trip instead.

Just a small one. Microscopic, really.

Completely harmless.

When he holds out his arms for you, Clark reluctantly surrenders, and you snuggle up to your father with a soft huff. Bruce delicately thumbs over your cheek, taking a moment to admire you, then carries you over to Hal and puts his very harmless plan into motion.

"It's a shame you hate my baby."

Hal looks like he got shot. Guilt Trip Plan: 6/10, too traumatizing. Refine for future use.

"I'm kidding," Bruce says, trying to cushion the blow. "Calm down."

"Jesus, Spooky," Hal mutters, rubbing his temples, "do you ever just ask normal questions outright?"

"Of course I do," Bruce says. "Last night, when we were both free, I asked you if you were interested in having se—"

"Okay!" He waves his hands, glancing at you with panicked eyes, which Bruce finds absurd. You're barely old enough to comprehend the fact that you have a body, let alone the ability to start processing language. You don't even know your name. You do kind of recognize Bruce's voice, but mainly when he's changing or feeding you, and only by his tone. It's all just senseless noise for you, otherwise, stimuli you allow to wash over you without putting conscious thought to it.

Bruce sighs and takes a smaller step closer to Hal. Hal takes a step back.

"I'm very curious about where this is coming from," Bruce says, choosing to be blunt. "You're fantastic with children, in and out of costume."

He takes another step forward. Hal takes another step back.

"Yeah, sure — kids and stuff — not babies," Hal says. "Kids can walk and talk and aren't...y'know, breakable."

"The baby isn't made of glass, Lantern."

One step forward. One step back.

"I know that! But they're also, y'know...just there. Kids are just tiny people. Babies are babies."

One step forward. One step back.

"I feel obligated to inform you that babies are also classified as people. They have social security numbers, birth certificates —"

One step forward. One step back.

"You know what I meant, don't get smart with me."

"I'm trying to know what you mean, actually. It's not like you don't want to hold them, I can see in your face that you do. The question is why you won't."

One step forward. One step back.

"Bruce, I need you to turn that gorgeous detective brain off for ten seconds and realize how intense you're being. I'm literally being backed into a corner."

Bruce stops walking. Hal can't walk back anymore because he's flush against the wall. Oops.

He acquiesces with a step back and turns his focus back on you. Your eyes are twitching under the lids. He wonders what you're dreaming about.

"This child is mine," Bruce says quietly. "I'm not asking you to step up and play stepfather, Hal, but this is a package deal. Them, and my boys. If that's too much...if that's a deal breaker —"

"Oh," Hal says, "no. Hey, no, of course it isn't! I'm not like that, B, I'm just — I've never — ugh."

He wills the domino mask away so he can rub his eyes, groaning, then shakes his head.

"They always puke!"

Bruce pauses. Thinks. Comes up empty. "Elaborate."

"Babies! Every time I hold a baby, they vomit on me. It's like some horrible magic trick or something, but I swear to you, I've never held a baby and it be able to keep its formula down."

Hal looks very distressed as he admits this, gesturing emphatically to get his point across. Bruce finds it endearing.

"Babies are the most adorable things on the planet. You think I don't wanna take them from you and snuggle up on the couch all day? I do! But they're gonna hurl about it!"

"Okay."

"I swear I'm not lyi— okay?"

"Okay," Bruce says. "I don't want you to get puked on, and I don't want to clean up more baby vomit than I have to. It stains absolutely everything it touches. It's a nightmare." He shifts his weight, rocking you slowly when you start to fuss. Is it a bad dream, or do you feel stuffy in the onesie? He'll take you home and get you down in the crib, soon. "But that's good to know. We'll figure something out."

"We will?" Hal says. "You aren't upset?"

"No. In fact, thank you for admitting it. I would have been pissed if you made my baby spit up and didn't warn me ahead of time."

Hal snorts. Bruce cracks a small smile, looking back down at your sleeping form. You seem to be settling again.

"So you'll have to wait a little longer to say hi to uncle Hal," he murmurs. "That's fine."

"Sorry for eavesdropping, but if he's Uncle Hal, can I be Uncle Clark?" The Kryptonian asks, almost shyly as he floats over. "Also, I didn't make the baby spit up. Can I hold 'em again?"

"We get to be uncles?? Hell yesssss," Barry says, pumping his fist.

"I will be the most impressive uncle among you," Diana declares, cracking her knuckles. "How do we battle for such a title?"

"You're an Auntie, Di."

"Then I will be the most impressive auntie among you."

"I think we're all just gonna let you have that one. You win."

Diana smiles, triumphant.